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FAUST
BY
\NN WOLFGANG VON GOETHE
TRANSLATED, IN THE ORIGINAL METRES, BY
BAYARD TAYLOR
TWO VOLUMES IN ONE
VOL. L \
Wer die Dichtkunst will verstehen, Muss ins Land der Dichtung gehent Wer den Dichter will verstenen, Muss in Dichters Lande gehen.
GOBTHB
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BOSTON AND NEW YORK HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY
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COPYRIGHT, 1870, BY BAYARD TAYLOR,
COPYRIGHT, 1898, BY MARIE HANSEN TAYLOR,
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
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PREFACE,
IT is twenty years since I first determined to attempt the translation of Faust, in the origi- nal metres. At that time, although more than a score of English translations of the First Part, and three or four of the Second Part, were in ex- istence, the experiment had not yet been made. The prose version ' of Hayward seemed to have been accepted as the standard, in default of any- thing more satisfactory : the English critics, gener- ally sustaining the translator in his views concern- ing the secondary importance of form in Poetry, practically discouraged any further attempt ; and no one, familiar with rhythmical expression through the needs of his own nature, had devoted the ne- cessar)' love and patience to an adequate repro- duction of the great work of Goethe's life.
Mr. Brooks was the first to undertake the task, and the publication of his translation of the First Part (in 1856) induced me, for a time, to give up my own design. No previous English version ex-
'O oa / ^.r^
iv FAUST.
hibited such abnegation of the translator's own tastes and habits of thought, such reverent desire to present the original in its purest form. The care and conscience with which the work had been performed were so apparent, that I now state with reluctance what then seemed to me to be its only deficiencies, — a lack of the lyrical fire and flu- ency of the original in some passages, and an occasional lowering of the tone through the use of words which are literal, but not equivalent. The plan of translation adopted by Mr. Brooks was so entirely my own, that when further resi- dence in Germany and a more careful study of both parts of Faust had satisfied me that the field was still open, — that the means furnished by the poetical affinity of the two languages had not yet been exhausted, — nothing remained for me but to follow him in all essential particulars. His exam- ple confirmed me in the belief that there were few difficulties in the way of a nearly literal yet thor- oughly rhythmical version of Fausf, which might not be overcome by loving labor. A comparison of seventeen English translations, in the arbitrary metres adopted by the translators, sufficiently showed the danger of allowing license in this respect : the white light of Goethe's thought was thereby passed through the 'tinted glass of other minds, and assumed the coloring of each. More- over, the plea of selecting different metres in the hope of producing a similar effect is unreasonable, where the identical metres are possible.
PREFACE. V
The value of form, in a poetical work, is the first question to be considered. No poet ever understood this question more thoroughly than Goethe himself, or expressed a more positive opin- ion in regard to it. The alternative modes of translation which he presents (reported by Riemer, quoted by Mrs. Austin, in her " Characteristics of Goethe," and accepted by Mr. Hayward),* are quite independent of his views concerning the value of form, which we find given elsewhere, in the clearest and most emphatic manner.t Poetry
* " ' There are two maxims of translation,' says he : ' the one requires that the author, of a foreign nation, be brought to us in such a manner that we may regard him as our own ; the other, on the contrary, demands of us that we transport ourselves over to him, and adopt his situation, his mode of speaking, and his peculiarities. The advantages of both are sufficiently known' to all instructed persons, from masterly examples.' "
Is it necessary, however, that there should always be this alternative ? Where the languages are kindred, and equally capable of all varieties of metrical expression, may not both these " maxims " be observed in the same translation ? Goethe, it is true, was of the opinion that Faust ought to be given, in French, in the manner of Clement Marot ; but this was undoubtedly because he felt the inadequacy of modern French to express the naive, simple realism of many pas- sages. The same objection does not apply to English. There are a few archaic expressions in Faust, but no more than are still allowed — nay, frequently encouraged — in the English of our day.
t " You are right," said Goethe ; " there are great and mysterious agencies included in the various forms of Poetry If the substance of my * Roman Elegies ' were to be ex-
vi FA UST.
is not simply a fashion of expression : it is the form of expression absolutely required by a cer- tain class of ideas. Poetry, indeed, may be dis- tinguished from Prose by the single circumstance, that it is the utterance of whatever in man cannot be perfectly uttered in any other than a rhythmical form : it is useless to say that the naked meaning is independent of the form : on the contrary, the form contributes essentially to the fulness of the meaning. In Poetry which endures through its own inherent vitality, there is no forced union of these
pressed in the tone and measure of Byron's ' Don Juan,' it would really have an atrocious effect." — Eckermann.
" The rhythm," said Goethe, " is an unconscious result of the poetic mood. If one should stop to consider it mechan- ically, when about to write a poem, one would become be- wildered and accomplish nothing of real poetical value." — Ibid. '
" All that is poetic in character should be rhythmically treated ! Such is my conviction ; and if even a sort of poetic prose should be gradually introduced, it would only show that the distinction between prose and poetry had been completely lost sight of." — Goethe to Schiller, 1797.
Tycho Mommsen, in his excellent essay, Die Kunst des Deutschen Uebersetzers aus neueren Sprachen, goes so far as to say : "The metrical or rhymed modelling of a poetical work is so essentially the germ of its being, that, rather than by giving it up, we might hope to construct a similar work of art before the eyes of our countrymen, by giving up or changing the substance. The immeasurable result which has followed works wherein the form has been retained — such as the Homer of Voss, and the Shakespeare of Tieck and Schlegel — is an incontrovertible evidence of the vital- ity of the endeavor."
PREFACE. vii
two elements. They are as intimately blended, and with the same mysterious beauty, as the sexes in the ancient Hermaphroditus. To attempt to represent Poetry in Prose, is very much like at- tempting to translate music into speech.*
The various theories of translation from the Greek and Latin poets have been admirably stated by Dryden in his Preface to the " Translations from Ovid's Epistles," and I do not wish to con- tinue the endless discussion, — especially as our literature needs examples, not opinions. A recent expression, however, carries with it so much au- thority, that I feel bound to present some consid- erations which the accomplished scholar seems to have overlooked. Mr. Lewes t justly says : "The effect of poetry is a compound of music and sug- gestion; this music and this suggestion are inter- mingled in words, which to alter is to alter the effect. For words in poetry are not, as in prose, simple representatives of objects and ideas : they are parts of an organic whole, — they are tones in the harmony." He thereupon illustrates the effect of translation by changing certain well-known English stanzas into others, equivalent in meaning, but lacking their felicity of words, their grace and melody. I cannot accept this illustration as valid, because Mr. Lewes purposely omits the very qual-
* " Goethe's poems exercise a great sway over me, not only by their meaning, but also by their rhythm. It is a lan- guage which stimulates me to composition." — Beethoven.
t Life of Goethe (Book VI.).
viii FAUST.
ity which an honest translator should exhaust his skill in endeavoring to reproduce. He turns away from the one best word or phrase in the English lines he quotes, whereas the translator seeks precisely that one best word or phrase (having all the re- sources of his language at command), to represent what is said in another language. More than this, his task is not simply mechanical : he must feel, and be guided by, a secondary inspiration. Sur- rendering himself to the full possession of the spirit which shall speak through him, he receives, also, a portion of the same creative power. Mr. Lewes reaches this conclusion : " If, therefore, we reflect what a poem Faust is, and that it contains almost every variety of style and metre, it will be tolerably evident that no one unacquainted with the original can form an adequate idea of it from translation,"* which is certainly correct of any translation wherein something of the rhythmical variety and beauty of the original is not retained. That very much of the rhythmical character may be retained in English, was long ago shown by Mr. Carlyle,t in the passages which he translated,
* Mr. Lewes gives the following advice : " The English reader would perhaps best succeed who should first read Dr. Anster's brilliant paraphrase, and then carefully go through Hayward's prose translation." This is singularly at variance with the view he has just expressed. Dr. Anster's version is an almost incredible dilution of the original, written in other metres ; while Hayward's entirely omits the element of poetry.
t Foreign Review, 1828.
PREFACE. ix
both literally and rhythmically, from the Helena (Part Second). In fact, we have so many in- stances of the possibility of reciprocally transfer- ring the finest qualities of English and German poetry, that there is no sufficient excuse for an unmetrical translation of Faust. I refer especially to such subtile and melodious lyrics as " The Cas- tle by the Sea," of Uhland, and the " Silent Land " of Salis, translated by Mr. Longfellow ; Goethe's " Minstrel " and " Coptic Song," by Dr. Hedge ; Heine's " Two Grenadiers," by Dr. Furness, and many of Heine's songs by Mr. Leland ; and also to the German translations of English lyrics, by Freiligrath and Strodtmann.*
I have a more serious objection, however, to urge against Mr. Hayward's prose translation.
* When Freiligrath can thus give us Walter Scott : —
" Kommt, wie der Wind kommt, Wenn Walder erzittern ! Kommt, wie die Brandung Wenn Floiten zersplittern ! Schnell heran, schnell herab, Schneller kommt Alia ! — Hauptling und Bub' und Knapp, Herr und Vasalle ! "
or Strodtmann thus reproduce Tennyson : — •' Es fallt der Strahl auf Burg und Thai, Und schneeige Gipfel, reich an Sagen ; Viel' Lichter wehn auf blauen Seen,
Bergab die Wasserstiirze jagen ! Bias, Hiifthorn, bias, in Wiederhall erschallend : Bias, Horn — antwortet, Echos, hallend, hallend, hallend ! "
— it must be a dull ear which would be satisfied with the omission of rhythm and rhyme.
X FAUST.
Where all the restraints of verse are flung aside, we should expect, at least, as accurate a reproduc- tion of the sense, spirit, and tone of the original, as the genius of our language will permit. So far from having given us such a reproduction, Mr. Hayward not only occasionally mistakes the exact meaning of the German text,* but, wherever two phrases may be used to express the meaning with equal fidelity, he very frequently selects that which has the less grace, strength, or beauty.f For there are few things which may not be said, in English, in a twofold manner, — one poetic, and the other prosaic. In German, equally, a word which in
* On his second page, the line Mein Lied ertont der un- hekannten Menge, '* My song sounds to the unknown multi- tude," is translated : " My sorrow voices itself to the strange throng." Other English translators, I notice, have followed Mr. Hayward in mistaking Lied for Leid.
t I take but one out of numerous instances, for the sake of illustration. The close of the Soldier's Song (Part I. Scene 11.) is : —
" Kiihn is das Miihen,
Herrlich der Lohn !
Und die Soldaten
Ziehen davon." Literally :
Bold is the endeavor,
Splendid the pay !
And the soldiers
March away.
This Mr. Hayward translates : —
Bold the adventure. Noble the reward — And the soldiers Are off.
PREFACE. xi
ordinary use has a bare prosaic character may receive a fairer and finer quality from its place in verse. The prose translator should certainly be able to feel the manifestation of this law in both languages, and should so choose his words as to meet their reciprocal requirements. A man, how- ever, who is not keenly sensible to the power and beauty and value of rhythm, is likely to overlook these delicate yet most necessary distinctions. The author's thought is stripped of a last grace in passing through his mind, and frequently presents very much the same resemblance to the original as an unhewn shaft to the fluted column. Mr. Hay- ward unconsciously illustrates his lack of a refined appreciation of verse, " in giving," as he says, " a sort of rhythmical arrangement to the lyrical parts," his object being "to convey some notion of the variety of versification which forms one great charm of the poem." A literal translation is al- ways possible in the unrhymed passages ; but even here Mr. Hayward's ear did not dictate to him the necessity of preserving the original rhythm.
While, therefore, I heartily recognize his lofty appreciation of Faust., — while I honor him for the patient and conscientious labor he has bestowed upon his translation, — I cannot but feel that he has himself illustrated the unsoundness of his ar- gument. Nevertheless, the circumstance that his prose translation of Faust has received so much acceptance proves those qualities of the original work which cannot be destroyed by a test so vio-
xii FAUST.
lent. From the cold bare outline thus produced, the reader unacquainted with the German language would scarcely guess what glow of color, what rich- ness of changeful life, what fluent grace and energy of movement have been lost in the process. We mustj of course, gratefully receive such an outline, where a nearer approach to the form of the origi- nal is impossible, but, until the latter has been demonstrated, we are wrong to remain content with the cheaper substitute.
It seems to me that in all discussions upon this subject the capacities of the English language have received but scanty justice. The intellectual tendencies of our race have always been somewhat conservative, and its standards of literary taste or belief, once set up, are not varied without a struggle. The English ear is suspicious of new metres and unaccustomed forms of expression : there are critical detectives on the track of every author, and a violation of the accepted canons is followed by a summons to judgment. Thus the tendency is to contract rather than to expand the acknowledged excellences of the language.* The
* I cannot resist the temptation of quoting the following passage from Jacob Grimm : " No one of all the modern languages has acquired a greater force and strength than the English, through the derangement and relinquishment of its ancient laws of sound. The unteachable (nevertheless learn- able) profusion of its middle-tones has conferred upon it an intrinsic power of expression, such as no other human tongue ever possessed. Its entire, thoroughly intellectual and won- derfully successful foundation and perfected development
PREFACE. xiii
difficulties in the way of a nearly literal translation of Faust in the original metres have been exagger- ated, because certain affinities between the two languages have not been properly considered. With all the splendor of versification in the work, it contains but few metres of which the English tongue is not equally capable. Hood has famil- iarized us with dactylic (triple) rhymes, and they are remarkably abundant and skilful in Mr. Low- ell's " Fable for the Critics " : even the unrhymed iambic hexameter of the Helma occurs now and then in Milton's Samsofi Agonisies. It is true that the metrical foot into which the German language most naturally falls is the trochaic, while in English it is the iambic : it is true that German is rich, involved, and tolerant of new combinations, while
issued from a marvellous union of the two noblest tongues of Europe, the Germanic and the Romanic. Their mutual relation in the English language is well known, since the former furnished chiefly the material basis, while the latter added the intellectual conceptions. The English language, by and through which the greatest and most eminent poet of modern times — as contrasted with ancient classical poetry — (of course I can refer only to Shakespeare) was begotten and nourished, has a just claim to be called a lan- guage of the world ; and it appears to be destined, like tne English race, to a higher and broader sway in all quarters of the earth. For in richness, in compact adjustment of parts, and in pure intelligence, none of the living languages can be compared with it, — not even our German, which is divided even as we are divided, and which must cast off many imperfections before it can boldly enter on its career.- — Ueber den Ursprung der Sprache.
xiv FAUST.
English is simple, direct, and rather shy of com- pounds ; but precisely these differences are so modified in the German of Faust that there is a mutual approach of the two languages. In Fausi^ the iambic measure predominates ; the style is compact ; the many licenses which the author allows himself are all directed towards a shorter mode of construction. On the other hand, Eng- lish metre compels the use of inversions, admits many verbal liberties prohibited to prose, and so inclines towards various flexible features of its sister-tongue that many lines of Faust may be repeated in English without the slightest change of meaning, measure, or rhyme. There are words, it is true, with so delicate a bloom upon them that it can in no wise be preserved ; but even such words will always lose less when they carry with them their rhythmical atmosphere. The flow of Goethe's verse is sometimes so similar to that of the corresponding English metre, that not only its harmonies and caesural pauses, but even its punc- tuation, may be easily retained.
I am satisfied that the difference between a translation of Faust in prose or metre is chiefly one of labor, — and of that labor which is success- ful in proportion as it is joyously performed. My own task has been cheered by the discovery, that the more closely I reproduced the language of the original, the more of its rhythmical character was transferred at the same time. If, now and then, there was an inevitable alternative of meaning or
PREFACE. XV
music, I gave the preference to the former. By the term " original metres " I do not mean a rigid, unyielding adherence to every foot, line, and rhyme of the German original, although this has very nearly been accomplished. Since the greater part of the work is written in an irregular measure, the lines varying from three to six feet, and the rhymes arranged according to the author's will, I do not consider that an occasional change in the number of feet, or order of rhyme, is any violation of the metrical plan. The single slight liberty I have taken with the lyrical passages is in Marga- ret's song, — "The King of Thule," — in which, by omitting the alternate feminine rhymes, yet re- taining the metre, I was enabled to make the trans- lation strictly literal. If, in two or three instances, I have left a line unrhymed, I have balanced the omission by giving rhymes to other lines which stand unrhymed in the original text. For the same reason, I make no apology for the imperfect rhymes, which are frequently a translation as well as a necessity. With all its supreme qualities, Faust is far from being a technically perfect work.*
* " At present, everything runs in technical grooves, and the critical gentlemen begin to wrangle whether in a rhyme an s should correspond with an s and not with sz. If I were young and reckless enough, I would purposely offend all such technical caprices : I would use alliteration, assonance, false rhyme, just according to my own will or convenience — but, at the same time, I would attend to the main thing, and endeavor to say so many good things that every one would be attracted to read and remember them." — Goethe^ in 1831.
XVI FAUST.
The feminine and dactylic rhymes, which have been for the most part omitted by all metrical translators except Mr. Brooks, are indispensable. The characteristic tone of many passages vi^ould be nearly lost, without them. They give spirit and grace to the dialogue, point to the aphoristic por- tions (especially in the Second Part), and an ever- changing music to the lyrical passages. The English language, though not so rich as the German in such rhymes, is less deficient than is generally supposed. The difficulty to be over- come is one of construction rather than of the vocabulary. The present participle can only be used to a limited extent, on account of its weak termination, and the want of an accusative form to the noun also restricts the arrangement of words in English verse. I cannot hope to have been always successful ; but I have at least la- bored long and patiently, bearing constantly in mind not only the meaning of the original and the mechanical structure of the lines, but also that subtile and haunting music which seems to govern rhythm instead of being governed by it.
The Second Part of Faust has been translated five times into English (by Birch, Bernays, Mac- donald, Archer Gurney, and Anster), but not one of the versions has ever been published in the United States. Inasmuch as this part was in- cluded in Goethe's original design, the First Part, although apparently complete as a tragic episode, is in reality but a fragment, wherein the deeper
PREFACE. xvii
problems upon which the work is based are left unsolved. I consider, therefore, that the Second Part is necessary (as necessary, indeed, as the Paradiso to the Divina Commedia of Dante) ; and my aim, in the second volume of this translation, will be to make that necessity clear, alike to the English reader and to those who follow various German and English critics in disparaging the original.
CONTENTS
An Goethe
Dedication
Prelude on the Stage .
Prologue in Heaven .
Scene I. Night {Faust's Monologue)
II. Before the City-Gate
III. The Study (The Exorcism)
IV. The Study ( The Compact) V. Auerbach's Cellar
VI. Witches' Kitchen
VII. A Street ....
VIII. Evening
IX. Promenade
X. The Neighbor's House
XI. Street
XII. Garden
XIII. A Garden-Arbor .
XIV. Forest and Cavern .
Page xxi
I
3 II
17 34 49 62 84 100
"3 117 123 126 135 138 146 148
XX CONTENTS.
XV. Margaret's Room 154
XVI. Martha's Garden . . . . 156
XVII. At the Fountain 163
XVIII. Donjon {Margaret's Prayer) , . 166 XIX. Night [Valentine's Death) . . .168
XX. Cathedral 175
t5'^*<'C\ XXI. Walpurgis-Night 178
XXII. Oberon and Titania's Golden Wed- ding 195
XXIII. Dreary Day 203
XXIV. Night 206
XXV. Dungeon 207
NOTES . . . ... . . .217
APPENDIX.
I. The Faust-Legend 337
II. Chronology of Faust .... 345
III. Scene from Marlowe's " Faustus " . . 354
AN GOETHE.
"PRHABENER Geist, im Geisterreich verloren /
Wo immer Deine lichte Wohnung sey^ Zum hoh'ren Schaffen bist Du neugeborerty Und singest dort die volVre Litanei. Vonjenem Streben das Du auserkoren^ Vom reinsten JSther^ drin Du athmest fret, O neige Dich zu gnddigem Erwiedern Des letzten Wiederhalls von Deinen Liedern /
IL
Den alien Musen die bestdubten Kronen Nahmst Du, zu neueyn Glanz, mit kUhner Hand : Du lost die Rdthsel dltester ^onen Durch jUngeren Glauben, helleren Verstand,
xxii AN GOETHE.
Und machst, wo rege Menschengeister wohnen. Die ganze Erde Dir zum Vaterland j Und Deine Junger sehn in Dir, verwundert, Verkorpert schon das werdende Jakrhundert.
III.
Was Du gesungen, A Her Lust und Klagen, Des Lebens Wiederspriiche, neu vermdhlt, — Die Harfe tausendstimmig frisch geschlagen^ Die Shakspeare einst, die einst Homer gewdhlt^ — Darf ich infremde Kldnge iibertragen Das A lies, wo so Mancher schon gefehlt f Lass Deinen Geist in meitier Stimme klingen, Und was Du sangsf, lass mich es Dir nachsingen I
B. T.
DEDICATION."
AGAIN ye come, ye hoveling Forms ! I find ye, As early to my clouded sight ye shone ! Shall I attempt, this once, to seize and bind ye ? Still o'er my heart is that illusion thrown ? Ye crowd more near ! Then, be the reign assigned ye, And sway me from your misty, shadowy zone ! My bosom thrills, with youthful passion shaken, From magic airs that round your march awaken.
Of joyous days ye bring the blissful vision ;
The dear, familiar phantoms rise again,
And, like an old and half-extinct tradition.
First Love returns, with Friendship in his train.
Renewed is Pain : with mournful repetition
Life tracks his devious, labyrinthine chain.
And names the Good, whose cheating fortune tore them
From happy hours, and left me to deplore them.
They hear no longer these succeeding measures, The soulSj to whom my earliest songs I sang : Dispersed the friendly troop, with all its pleasures, And still, alas ! the echoes first that rang !
VOL. I. 1
2 FA UST.
I bring the unknown multitude my treasures ; Their very plaudits give my heart a pang, And those beside, whose joy my Song so flattered. If still they live, wide through the world are scattered.
And grasps me now a long-unwonted yearning For that serene and solemn Spirit- Land: My song, to faint vEolian murmurs turning, Sways Hke a harp-string by the breezes fanned. I thrill and tremble ; tear on tear is burning, And the stern heart is tenderly unmanned. What I possess, I see far distant lying, And what I lost, grows real and undying.
\J*''
PRELUDE ON THE STAGE.
Manager. Dramatic Poet. Merry-Andrew.
MANAGER.
You two, who oft a helping hand Have lent, in need and tribulation, « Come, let me know your expectation Of this, our enterprise, in German land ! I wish the crowd to feel itself well treated. Especially since it lives and lets me live ; The posts are set, the booth of boards com|)leted,3 And each awaits the banquet I shall give. Already there, with curious eyebrows raised, They sit sedate, and hope to be amazed. I know how one the People's taste may flatter, Yet here a huge embarrassment I feel : What fhey 're accustomed to, is no great matter, But then, alas ! they 've read an awful deal. How shall we plan, that all be fresh and new, — Important matter, yet attractive too? For 't is my pleasure to behold them surging, When to our booth the current sets apace, And with tremendous, oft-repeated urging. Squeeze onward through the narrow gate of grace : By daylight even, they push and cram in
4 FAUST.
To reach the seller's box, a fighting host,
And as for bread, around a baker's door, in famine,
To get a ticket break their necks almost.
This miracle alone can work the Poet
On men so various : now, my friend, pray show it.
POET.
Speak not to me of yonder motley masses,
Whom but to see, puts out the fire of Song !
Hide from my view the surging crowd that passes.
And in its whirlpool forces us along !
No, lead me where some heavenly silence glasses
The purer joys that round the Poet throng, —
Where Love and Friendship still divinely fashion
The bonds that bless, the wreaths that crown his passion!
Ah, every utterance from the depths of feeling The timid lips have stammeringly expressed, — Now failing, now, perchance, success revealing, — Gulps the wild Moment in its greedy breast ; Or oft, reluctant years its warrant sealing, Its perfect stature stands at last confessed ! What dazzles, for the Moment spends its spirit : What 's genuine, shall Posterity inherit.
MERRY-ANDREW.
Posterity ! Don't name the word to me ! «
If /should choose' to preach Posterity, Where would you get cdtemporary fun ? That men will have it, there 's no bhnking : A fine young fellow's presence, to my thinking. Is something worth, to every one. Who genially his nature can outpour. Takes from the People's moods no irritation ; The wider circle he acquires, the more
PRELUDE. 5
Securely works his inspiration. Then pluck up heart, and give us sterling coin ! Let Fancy be with her attendants fitted, — Sense, Reason, Sentiment, and Passion join, — But have a care, lest Folly be omitted !
MANAGER.
Chiefly, enough of incident prepare !
They come to look, and they prefer to stare.4
Reel off a host of threads before their faces,
So that they gape in stupid wonder : then
By sheer diffuseness you have won their graces,
And are, at once, most popular of men.
Only by mass you touch the mass ; for any
Will finally, himself, his bit select :
Who offers much, brings something unto many,s
And each goes home content with the effect.
If you 've a piece, why, just in pieces give it :
A hash, a stew, will bring success, beHeve it !
'T is easily displayed, and easy to invent.
What use, a Whole compactly to present ?
Your hearers pick and pluck, as soon as they receive it!
POET.
You do not feel, how such a trade debases ; How ill it suits the Artist, proud and true ! The botching work each fine pretender traces Is, I perceive, a principle with you.
MANAGER.
Such a reproach not in the least offends •, A man who some result intends Must use the tools that best are fitting. Reflect, soft wood is given to you for splitting. And then, observe for whom you write !
6 FAUST. ^^
If one comes bored, exhausted quite,
Another, satiate, leaves the banquet's tapers,
And, worst of all, full many a wight
Is fresh from reading of the daily papers.
Idly to us they come, as to a masquerade,
Mere curiosity their spirits warming :
The ladies with themselves, and with their finery, aid,
Without a salary their parts performing.
What dreams are yours in high poetic places ?
You 're pleased, forsooth, full houses to behold ?
Draw near, and view your patrons' faces !
The half are coarse, the half are cold.
One, when the play is out, goes home to cards ;
A wild night on a wench's breast another chooses :
Why should you rack, poor, foolish bards,
For ends like these, the gracious Muses ?
I tell you, give but more — more, ever more, they ask :
Thus shall you hit the mark of gain and glory.
Seek to confound your auditory !
To satisfy them is a task. —
What ails you now.-* Is 't suffering, or pleasure ?
POET.
Go, find yourself a more obedient slave !
What ! shall the Poet that which Nature gave,
The highest right, supreme Humanity,
Forfeit so wantonly, to swell your treasure ?
Whence o'er the heart his empire free ?
The elements of Life how conquers he ?
Is 't not his heart's accord, urged outward far and dim,
To wind the world in unison with him ?
When on the spindle, spun to endless distance,
By Nature's listless hand the thread is twirled,
And the discordant tones of all existence
In sullen jangle are together hurled,
PRELUDE. 7
Who, then, the changeless orders of creation
Divides, and kindles into rhythmic dance ?
Who brings the One to join the general ordination,
Where it may throb in grandest consonance ?
Who bids the storm to passion stir the bosom ?
In brooding souls the sunset burn above ? ; :^^..
Who scatters every fairest April blossom
Along the shining path of Love ?
Who braids the noteless leaves to crowns, requiting
Desert with fame, in Action's every field ?
Who makes Olympus sure, the Gods uniting ?
The might of Man, as in the Bard revealed.
MERRY-ANDREW.
So, these fine forces, in conjunction. Propel the high poetic function, As in a love-adventure they might play ! You meet by accident ; you feel, you stay, And by degrees your heart is tangled ; Bliss grows apace, and then its course is jangled ; You 're ravished quite, then comes a toucli of woe, And there 's a neat romance, completed ere you know ! Let us, then, such a drama give } _Grasp the exhaustless life that all men live ! Each shares therein, though few may comprehend : Where'er you touch, there 's interest without end. In motley pictures httle light, Much error, and of truth a glimmering mite, Thus the best beverage is supplied. Whence all the world is cheered and edified. Then, at your play, behold the fairest flower Of youth collect, to hear the revelation ! Each tender soul, with sentimental power, Sucks melancholy food from your creation ; And now in this, now that, the leaven works.
8 FA UST.
For each beholds what in his bosom lurks.
They still are moved at once to weeping or to laughter,
Still wonder at your flights, enjoy the show they see :
A mind, once formed, is never suited after ;
One yet in growth will ever grateful be.
POET.
Then give me back that time of pleasures,
While yet in joyous growth I sang, —
When, like a fount, the crowding measures
Uninterrupted gushed and sprang !
Then bright mist veiled the world before me,
In opening buds a marvel woke,
As I the thousand blossoms broke,
Which every valley richly bore me ! /t nothing had, and yet enough for youth — \ Joy in Illusion, ardent thirst for Truth. \ Give, unrestrained, the old emotion, "' The bliss that touched the verge of pain, f The strength of Hate, Love's deep devotion, — \Oy give me back my youth again !
MERRY-ANDREW.
Youth, good my friend, you certainly requir«
When foes in combat sorely press you ;
When lovely maids, in fond desire,
Hang on your bosom and caress you ; . When from tfie hard-won goal the wreath i Beckons afar, the race awaiting ;
When, after dancing out your breath.
You pass the night in dissipating : —
But that familiar harp with soul
To play, — with grace and bold expression,
And towards a self-erected goal
To walk with many a sweet digression, —
PRELUDE.
This, aged Sirs, belongs to you,^ And we no less revere you for that reason : Age childish makes, they say, but 't is not true ; We 're only genuine children still, in Age^s_season !
MANAGER.
The words you 've bandied are sufficient ;
'T is deeds that I prefer to see :
In compliments you 're both proficient,
But might, the while, more useful be.
What need to talk of Inspiration .?
'T is no companion of Delay*
If Poetry be your vocation.
Let Poetry your will obey !
Full well you know what here is wanting ;
The crowd for strongest drink is panting.
And such, forthwith, I 'd have you brew.
What 's left undone to-day. To-morrow will not do.
Waste not a day in vain digression :
With resolute, courageous trust
Seize every possible impression, ^
And make it firmly your possession f
You '11 then work on, because you must.
Upon our German stage,'' you know it.
Each tries his hand at what he will ;
So, take of traps and scenes your fill,
And all you find, be sure to show it !
Use both the great and lesser heavenly light, —
Squander the stars in any number.
Beasts, birds, trees, rocks, and all such lumber,
Fire, water, darkness. Day and Night !
Thus, in our booth's contracted sphere,
The circle of Creation will appear.
And move, as we deliberately impel,
. to Hell! 7 1*
^
PROLOGUE IN HEAVEN.«
The LoRp. The Heavenly Hosts. After- wards Mephistopheles.
(7%<? Three Archangels come forward.)
RAPHAEL.
THE sun-orb sings, in emulation, 'Mid brother-spheres, his ancient round : His path predestined through Creation He ends with step of thunder-sound. The angels from his visage splendid Draw power, whose measure none can say ; The lofty works, uncomprehended, Are Iwight as on the earliest day.
GABRIEL.
And swift, and swift beyond conceiving, The splendor of the world goes round, Day's Eden-brightness still relieving The awful Night's intense profound : The ocean-tides in foam are breaking, Against the rocks' deep bases hurled, And both, the spheric race partaking, Eternal, swift, are v'>nward whirled ! -~^
xn
J 2 FAUST.
MICHAEL.
And rival storms abroad are surging From sea to land, from land to sea. A chain of deepest action forging Round all, in wrathful energy. There flames a desolation, blazing Before the Thunder's crashing way : Yet, Lord, Thy messengers are praising The gentle movement of Thy Day.
THE THREE.
Though still by them uncomprehended, From these tTTe'SHgels draw thetrpower, And all Thy works, sublime and splendid, Are~bright as in Creation's hour.9
MEPHISTOPHELES. W^
Since Thou, O Lord, deign'st to approach again And ask us how we do, in manner kindest. And heretofore to meet myself wert fain. Among Thy menials, now, my face Thou findest. Pardon, this troop I cannot follow after" With lofty speech, though by them scorned and spurned : My pathos certainly would move Thy laughter. If Thou hadst not all merriment unlearned. Of suns and worlds I 've nothing to be quoted ; How men torment themselves, is all I 've noted. The little god o' the world sticks to the same old way, And is as whimsical as on Creation's day. ■-^ife somewBaf better might content him, But for the gleam of heavenly llght_ whicli Thou hast
lent him :
He calls it Reason — thence his power 's increase^, To be far beastlier than any beast. • Savin"- Thy Gracious Presence, he to me
PROLOGUE IN HEAVEN. 13
A long-legged grasshopper appears to be, That springing flies, and flying springs, And in the grass the same old ditty sings. Would he still lay among the grass he grows in ! Each bit of dung he seeks, to stick his nose in.
THE LORD.
Hast thou, then, nothing more to mention ? Com'st ever, thus, with ill intention ? Find'st nothing right on earth, eternally ?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
No, Lord ! I find things, there, still bad as they can be. I Man's misery even to pity moves my nature ; 1 Pve scarce the heart to plague the wretched creature.
^,;^ ^c^: cc^xA^ \^ ^ ^'j^ LORD.
Know'st Faust ?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
The Doctor Faust ?
THE LORD.
My servant, he !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Forsooth ! He serves you after strange devices :
No earthly meat or drink the fool suffices : (j\
His spirit's ferment far aspireth ;
Half conscious of his frenzied, crazed unrest.
The fairest stars from Heaven he requireth.
From Earth the highest raptures and the best,
And all the Near and_Far that he desiretk-
Fails to subdue the tumult of his breast.
THE LORD.
Though still confused his service unto Me, I^soon shall lead him to a clearer morning. Sk
14 FAUST.
Sees not the gardener, even, while buds his tree, Both flower and fruit the future years adorning ?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
What will you bet ? There 's still a chance to gain him. If unto me full leave you give, Gently upon tny road to train him !
THE LORD.
As long as he on earth shall live,
So long I make no prohibition.
While Man'sdesires and aspirations stir.
H e cannot choose but err."
MEPHISTOPHELES.
My thanks ! I find the dead no acquisition.
And never cared to have them in my keeping.
I much prefer the cheeks where ruddy blood is leaping,
And when a corpse approaches, close my house :
It goes with me, as with the cat the mouse.
THE LORD.
Enough ! What thou hast asked is granted.
Turn off this spirit from his fountain-head ; i<'(M
To trap him, let thy snares be planted.
And him, with thee, be downward led ;
Then stand abashed, when thou art forced to say :
A good man, through obscurest aspiratiQn,
Has still an instinct of the one true way.'^
^ MEPHISTOPHELES.
Agreed ! But 't is a short probation.
About my bet I feel no trepidation.
If I fulfil my expectation.
You '11 let me triumph with a swelling breast :
PROLOGUE m HEAVEN. 15
Dust shall he eat, and with a zest,
As did a certain snake, my near relation.
\ THE LORD.
Therein thou 'nt free, according to thy merits ;
The hke of thee have never moved My hate, j Of all the bold, denying Spirits, I The waggish knave least trouble doth create.
Man's active nature, flagging, seeks too soon the level ; /"-^^
Unqualified repose he learns to crave ; V^
Whence, willingly, the comrade him I gave,
Who works, excites, and must create, as Devil.
But ye, God's sons in love and duty,*3
Enjoy the rich, the ever-living Beauty !
Creative Power, that works eternal schemes.
Clasp you in bonds of love, relaxing never.
And what in wavering apparition gleams
Fix in its place with thoughts that stand forever !
{Heaven closes : the Archangels separate.)
MEPHISTOPHELES {solus).
I like, at times, to hear The Ancient's word, And have a care to be most civil : s^ /.^x-^'^
It 's really kind of such a noble Lord y^^ So humanly to gossip with the Devil !
FIRST PART OF THE TRAGEDY.
NIGHT,
\A lofty-arched^ narrow^ Gothic chamber, Faust, in a chair at his desk, restless.)
FAUST.''*
I'VE studied now Philosophy And Jurisprudence, Medicine, — And even, alas ! Theology, — From end to end, with labor keen ; And here, poor fool ! with all my lore I stand, no wiser than before : I 'm Magister — yea. Doctor — hight, And straight or cross-wise, wrong or right, These ten years long, with many woes, I 've led my scholars by the nose, — Arid see, that nothin^jcan be known ! That knowledge cutsjiie to the Spne. ^
I 'm cleverer, true, than those fops of teachers. Doctors and Magisters, Scribed and Preachers ; Neither scruples nor doubts come now to smite me, Nor Hell nor Devil can longer affright me. ^
' or this, all pleasufe am I foregoing ; I do not pretend to aught worth knowing,
i8
FAUST.
t
I do not pretend I could be a teacher To help or convert a fellow-creature. Then, too, I 've neither lands nor gold. Nor the world's least pomp or honor hold — No dog would endure such a curst existence ! Wherefore, from Magic I seek assistance, That many a secret perchance I reach Through spirit-power and spirit-speech, J\.nd thus the bitter task forego Of saying the things I do not know, — That I may detect the inmost force [Which binds the world, and guides its course; 'Its germs, productive powers explore. And rummage in empty words no more !
(/.full and splendid Moon, whom I "^ave, from this desk, seen climb the sky
/ So many a midnight, — would thy glow Yox the last time beheld my woe !
/Ever thine eye, most mournful friend, O'er books and papers saw me bend ;
/But would that I, on mountains grand, Amid thy blessed light could stand, ^
With spirits through mountain-caverns hover, Float in thy twihght the meadows over. And, freed from the fumes of lore that swathe me, To health in thy dewy fountains bathe me !
Ah, me ! this dungeon still I see. This drear, accursed masonry, Where even the welcome daylight strains But duskly through the painted panes. Hemmed in by many a toppling heap Of books worm-eaten, gray with dust, Which to the vaulted ceihng creep.
SCENE I. v 19
\ And t\gainst the smoky paper thrust, — No cWith glasses, boxes, round me stacked, ClouAnd instruments together hurled. The riincestral lumber, stuffed and packed — Tb ' Such is my world,: and what a world !
And do I ask, wherefore my heart
Falters, oppressed with unknown needs ?
Why some inexplicable smart
All movement of my life impedes ?
Alas ! in living Nature's stead.
Where God His human creature set, ] In smoke and mould the fleshless dead ' And bones of beasts surround me yet !
Fly ! Up, and seek the broad, free land ! 's And this one Book of Mystery From Nostradamus' very hand,'^ Js^t not sufficient company ? When I the starry courses know, And Nature's wise instruction seek, With light of power my soul shall gloWj As when to spirits spirits speak. 'T is vain, this empty brooding here. Though guessed the holy symbols be : Ye, Spirits, come — ye hover near — , Oh, if you hear me, answer me ! -> -xCted, {He opens the Book, and perceives ■"'
Ha! what a sudden --ust.
I view, through 3' I endure not thee !
I feel a youthf
In every vei spirit.
Was it a ' chine aspiration,
With ca^ear, my countenance to see;
20 FAUST.
My troubled heart to joy unsealing.
With impulse, mystic and divine,
The powers of Nature here, around my path, reve?
Am I a God ? — so clear mine eyes ! '
In these pure features I behold
Creative Nature to my soul unfold.
What says the sage, now first I recognize :
" The spirit-world no closures fasten ;
Thy sense is shut, thy heart is dead :
Disciple, up ! untiring, hasten
To bathe thy breast in morning-red ! "
{He contemplates the sign.)
How each the Whole its substance gives,
Each in the other works and lives !
Like heavenly forces rising and descending, K
Their golden urns reciprocally lending,
With wings that winnow blessing
From Heaven through Earth I see them pressing,
Filling the All with harmony unceasing ! , / ow grand a show ! but, ah ! a show alone. . ^
I /S^, boundless Nature, how make thee my own ? ^^ I / Am.o you, ye breasts ? Founts of all Being, shining,
( With n hang Heaven's and Earth's desire,
, Float i our withered hearts aspire, — / J. And, frtp feed : and am I vainly pining ?
I To health in cx.^
■ ^-hatiently, and perceives the sign of tht
Ah, me! this dungeon "^J'^^''''''^-)"
This drear, accursed masonr_, this sign ! ^
Where even the welcome dayhgrer : \^
But duskly through the painted paarer ; i
Hettimed in by many a toppling hea; | Of books worm-eaten, gray with dust, Id incite mlp.
Which to the vaulted ceiling creep, > me, fj
SCENE I. 2X
And though the shock of storms may smite me,
No crash of shipwreck shall have power to fright me !
Clouds gather over me —
The moon conceals her light —
The lamp 's extinguished ! —
Mists rise, — red, angry rays are darting
Around my head ! — There falls
A horror from the vaulted roof,
And seizes me !
I feel thy presence, Spirit I invoke !
Reveal thyself !
Ha ! in my heart what rending stroke !
With new impulsion
My senses heave in this convulsion !
I feel thee draw my heart, absorb, exhaust me :
Thou must ! thou must ! and though my life it cost me !
{He seizes the book, and mysteriously pronounces the sign of the Spirit. A ruddy flame flashes : the Spirit appears in the flame. )
SPIRIT.
Who calls me ?
FAUST {with averted head). Terrible to see !
SPIRIT.
Me hast thou long with might attracted, Long from my sphere thy food exacted, And now —
FAUST.
Woe ! I endure not thee !
' SPIRIT.
To view me is thine aspiration.
My voice to hear, my countenance to see ;
2 2 FAUST.
Thy powerful yearning moveth me,
Here am I ! — what mean perturbation
Thee, superhuman, shakes ? Thy soul's high calling-,
where ? Where is the breast, which from itself a world did bear, And shaped and cherished — which with joy expanded. To be our peer, with us, the Spirits, banded ? Where art thou, Faust, whose voice has pierced to me. Who towards me pressed with all thine energy ? He art thou, who, my presence breathing, seeing, Trembles through all the depths of being, A writhing worm, a terror-stricken form ?
FAUST.
Thee, form of flame, shall I then fear ? Yes, I am Faust : I am thy peer !
SPIRIT.
In the tides of Life, in Action's storm, ''^
A fluctuant wave,
A shuttle free.
Birth and the Grave,
An eternal sea,
A weaving, flowing
Life, all-glowing. Thus at Time's humming loom 't is my hand prepares The garment of Life which the Deity wears ! ^ V
FAUST.
Thou, who around the wide world wendest, Thou busy Spirit, how near I feel to thee !
SPIRIT.
Thou 'rt like the Spirit which thou comprehendestj
■^- Not me ! l
{Disappears.) '
SCENE I.
23
FAUST (overwhelmed). t
Not thee !
Whom then ? (^
I, image of the Godhead ! •
Not even like thee ! \
{A knock.)
0 Death ! — I know it — 't is my Famulus ! '^ My fairest luck finds no fruition :
In all the fulness of my vision
The soulless sneak disturbs me thus !
{Enter Wagner, in dressing-gown and night-cap^ a lamp i** his hand. Faust turns impatiently. )
WAGNER."
Pardon, I heard your declamation ; 'T was sure an old Greek tragedy you read ? In such an art I crave some preparation, Since now it stands one in good stead.
1 've often heard it said, a preacher Might learn, with a comedian for a teacher.
FAUST.
Yes, when the priest comedian is by nature. As haply now and then the case may be.
WAGNER.
Ah, when one studies thus, a prisoned creature, That scarce the world on holidays can see, — Scarce through a glass, by rare occasion, How shall one lead it by persuasion ?
FAUST.
ou '11 ne'er attain it, save you know the feeling, "Pq ,ave from the soul it rises clear, jyjy erene in .primal strength, compelling
24 FA usr.
The hearts and minds of all who hear.
You sit forever gluing, patching ;
You cook the scraps from others' fare ;
And from your heap of ashes hatching
A starveling fiame, ye blow it bare !
Take children's, monkeys' gaze admiring,
If such your taste, and be content ;
But ne'er from heart to heart you '11 speak inspiring,
Save your own heart is eloquent^
WAGNER.
Yet through delivery orators succeed ; I feel that I am far behind, indeed.
FAUST.
Seek thou the honest recompense ! Beware, a tinkling fool to be ! With little art, clear wit and sense Suggest their own delivery ; And if thou 'rt nioved to speak in earnest. What need, that after words thou yearnest ? \Yes, your discourses, with their glittering show, Where ye for men twist shredded thought like paper,= Are unrefreshing as the winds that blow The rustling leaves through chill autumnal vapor !
WAGNER.
/Ah, God ! but Art is long,23 "\^ And Life, alas ! is fleeting.
\And oft, with zeal my critic-duties meeting, In head and breast there 's something wrong. How hard it is to compass the assistance Whereby one rises to the source ! And, haply, ere one travels half the course Must the poor devil quit existence.
SCENE I.
25
FAUST.
Is parchment, then, the holy fount before thee, A draught wherefrom thy thirst forever slakes ? No true refreshment can restore thee. Save what from thine own soul spontaneous breaks.
WAGNER.
Pardon ! a great delight is granted When, in the spirit of the ages planted, We mark how, ere our time, a sage has thought, And then, how far his work, and grandly, we have brought.
FAUST.
O yes, up to the stars at last !
Listen, my friend : the ages that are past
Are now a book with seven seals protected :
What you the Spirit of the Ages call
Is nothing but the spirit of you all.
Wherein the Ages are reflected.
So, oftentimes, you miserably mar it !
At the first glance who sees it runs away.
An offal-barrel and a lumber-garret,
Or, at the best, a Punch-and-Judy play,=*
With maxims most pragmatical and hitting.
As in the mouths of puppets are befitting !
WAGNER.
But then, the world — the human heart and brain ! Of these one covets some slight apprehension.
FAUST.
Yes, of the kind which men attain ! Who dares the child's true name in public mention ? The few, who thereof something really learned, VOL. I 2
26 FAUST.
Unwisely frank, with hearts that spurned concealing, And to the mob laid bare each thought and feeling, Have evermore been crucified and burned.^s I pray you. Friend, 't is now the dead of night ; Our converse here must be suspended.
JWAGNER.
I would have shared your watches with delight.
That so our learned talk might be extended.^^
T(3-morrow, though, I '11 ask, in Easter leisure, \
This and the other question, at your pleasure. |
Most zealously I seek for erudition : L
Much_do I know — but to know all is my ambition;
--- ■ _ j^^^.^
FAUST {solus).
That brain, alone, not loses hope, whose choice is To stick in shallow trash forevermore, — Which digs 'with eager hand for buried ore. And, when it finds an angle-worm, rejoices !
Dare such a human voice disturb the flow,
Around me here, of spirit-presence fullest ?
And yet, this once my thanks I owe
To thee, of all earth's sons the poorest, dullest !
For thou hast torn me from that desperate state
Which threatened soon to overwhelm my senses :
The apparition was so giant-great,
It dwarfed and withered all my soul's pretences !
I, image of the Godhead, who began — Deeming Eternal Truth secure in nearness — To sun myself in heavenly light and clearness, And laid aside the earthly man ; — I, more than Cherub, whose free force had planned To flow through Nature's veins in glad pulsation,
SCENE I. 27
To reach beyond, enjoying in creation
The life of Gods, behold my expiation !
A thunder-word hath swept me from my stand.^7
With thee I dare not venture to compare me.
Though I possessed the power to draw thee near me,
The power to keep thee was denied my hand.
When that ecstatic moment held me,
I felt myself so small, so great ;
But thou hast ruthlessly repelled me
Back upon Man's uncertain fate. iD
What shall I shun .? • Whose guidance borrow ?
Shall I accept that stress and strife ?
Ah ! every deed of ours, no less than every sorrow^
Impedes the onwaj;d^march of life.
Some alien substance more and more is cleaving To all the mind conceives of grand and fair ; When this world's Good is won by our achieving, The Better, then, is named a cheat and snare. The fine emotions, whence our lives we mould, Lie in the earthly tumult dumb and cold. If hopeful Fancy once, in daring flight.
Her longings to the Infinite expanded, -^
Yet now a narrow space contents her quite, Since Time's wild wave so many a fortune stranded. i
Care at the bottom of the heart is lurking : Her secret pangs in silence working. She, restless, rocks herself, disturbing joy and rest : In newer masks her face is ever drest. By turns a> house and land, as wife and child, pre sented, —
As water, fire, as poison, steel : (^H)
We dread the blows we neverjaely
Aiid what we never lose is yet by us lamentedj
v
r
28 FAUST.
I am not like the Gods ! That truth is felt too deep : The worm am I, that in the dust doth creep, — That, while in dust it lives and seeks its bread. Is crushed and buried by the wanderer's tread. ''
Is not this dust, these walls within them hold.
The hundred shelves, which cramp and chain me,
The frippery, the trinkets thousand-fold,
That in this mothy den restrain me ?
Here shall I find the help I need ?
Shall here a thousand volumes teach me only
That men, self-tortured, everywhere must bleed, —
And here and there one happy man sits lonely ? ^^
What mean'st thou by that grin, thou hollow skull.
Save that thy brain, like mine, a cloudy mirror.
Sought once the shining day, and then, in twilight duU,^
Thirsting for Truth, went wretchedly to Error ?
Ye instruments, forsooth, but* jeer at me
With wheel and cog, and shapes uncouth of wonder ;
I found the portal, you the keys should be ;
Your wards are deftly wrought, but drive no bolts
asunder ! Mysterious even in open day. Nature retains her veil, despite our clamors : That which she doth not willingly display Cannot be wrenched from her with levers, screws, and
hammers. Ye ancient tools, whose use I never knew. Here, since my father used ye, still ye moulder : Thou, ancient scroll, hast worn thy smoky hue Since at this desk the dim lamp wont to smoulder. 'T were better far, had I my little idly spent. Than now to sweat beneath its burden, I confess it 1 What from your fathers' heritage is lent. Earn it anew, to really possess it ! 3°
SCENE /. 29
What serves not, is a sore impediment : The Moment's need creates the thing to serve and bless it!
Yet, wherefore turns my gaze to yonder point so lightly ? Is yonder flask a magnet for mine eyes? Whence, all around me, glows the air so brightly, As when in woods at night the mellow moonbeam lies ?
I hail thee, wondrous, rarest vial ! I take thee down devoutly, for the trial : Man's art and wit I venerate in thee. Thou summary of gentle slumber-juices. Essence of deadly finest powers and uses, • Unto thy master show thy favor free ! I see thee, and the stings of pain diminish ; I grasp thee, and my struggles slowly finish : My spirit's flood-tide ebbeth more and more. Out on the open ocean speeds my dreaming ; The glassy flood before my feet is gleaming, A new day beckons to a newer shore !
A fiery chariot, borne on buoyant pinions.
Sweeps near me now ! I soon shall ready be
To pierce the ether's high, unknown dominions,
To reach new spheres of pure activity !
This godlike rapture, this supreme existence,
Do I, but now a worm, deserve to track .^
Yes, resolute to reach some brighter distance,
On Earth's fair sun I turn my back ! 3^
Yes, let me dare those gates to fling asunder.
Which every man would fain go slinking by !
'T is time, through deeds this word of truth to thunder :
That with the height of Gods Man's dignity may vie !
Nor from that gloomy gulf to shrink affrighted.
30
FAUST.
Where Fancy doth herself to self-born pangs compel, —
To struggle toward that pass benighted,
Around whose narrow mouth flame all the fires of Hell, —
To take this step with cheerful resolution,
Though Nothingness should.be the certain, swift con- clusion !
And now come down, thou cup of crystal clearest ! Fresh from thine ancient cover thou appearest, So many years forgotten to my thought ! Thou shon'st at old ancestral banquets cheery, The solemn guests thou madest merry, When one. thy wassail to the other brought. The rich and skilful figures o'er thee wrought, The drinker's duty, rhyme-wise to explain them, Or in one breath below the mark to drain them. From many a night of youth my memory caught. Now to a neighbor shall I pass thee never. Nor on thy curious art to test my wit endeavor : Here is a juice whence sleep is swiftly born. It fills with browner flood thy crystal hollow ; I chose, prepared it : thus I follow, — With all my soul the final drink I swallow, A solemn festal cup, a greeting to the morn !
YHe sets the goblet to his mouth.
( Chime of bells and choral song.)
CHORUS OF ANGELS.3^
Christ is arisen ! Joy to the Mortal One, Whom the unmerited, Clinging, inherited Needs did imprison.
SCENE I. 31
FAUST.
What hollow humming, what a sharp, clear stroke,
Drives from my lip the goblet's, at their meeting ?
Announce the booming bells already vroke
The first glad hour of Easter's festal greeting ?
Ye choirs, have ye begun the sweet, consoHng chant,
Which, through the night of Death, the angels minis-
trant Sang, God's new Covenant repeating ?
CHORUS OF WOMEN.
With spices and precious Balm, we arrayed him ; Faithful and gracious. We tenderly laid him : Linen to bind him Cleanhly wound we : Ah ! when we would find him, Christ no more found we !
CHORUS OF ANGELS.
Christ is ascended ! Bliss hath invested him, — Woes that molested him, Trials that tested him. Gloriously ended !
FAUST.
Why, here in dust, entice n\e with your spell,
Ye gentle, powerful sounds of Heaven ?
Peal rather there, where tender natures dwell.
Your messages I hear, but faith has not been given ;
The dearest child of FaithJsLMJracle.
I venture norto"soar to yonder regions
Whence the glad tidings hither float ;
32 FAUST.
And yet, from childhood up familiar with the note,
To Life it now renews the old allegiance.
Once Heavenly Love sent down a burning kiss
Upon my brow, in Sabbath silence holy ;
And, filled with mystic presage, chimed the church-bell
slowly. And prayer dissolved me in a fervent bliss.33 A sweet, uncomprehended yearning Drove forth my feet through woods and m.eadows free, And while a thousand tears were burning, I felt a world arise for me.(
These chants, to youth and all its sports appealing, Proclaimed the Spring's rejoicing hoHday ; And Memory holds me now, with childish feeling, Back from the last, the solemn way. Sound on, ye hymns of Heaven, so sweet and mild ! My tears gush forth : the Earth takes back her child !
CHORUS OF DISCIPLES.
Has He, victoriously, Burst from the vaulted Grave, and ail-gloriously Now sits exalted ? Is He, in glow of birth. Rapture creative near ? 34 Ah ! to the woe of earth Still are we native here. We, his aspiring Followers, Hyn we miss ; Weeping, desiring. Master, Thy bliss !
CHORUS OF ANGELS.
Christ is arisen,
Out of Corruption's womb :
SCENE I.
Burst ye the prison, Break from your gloom ! Praising and pleading him, Lovingly needing him, Brotherly feeding him, Preaching and speeding him. Blessing, succeeding Him, Thus is the Master near, — Thus is He here !
33
34
FAUST.
w
II.
BEFORE THE CITY-GATE.35
{Pedestrians of all kinds come forth.) SEVERAL APPRENTICES.
HY do you go that way ?
OTHERS.
We 're for the Hunters'-lodge, to-day.
THE FIRST.
We '11 saunter to the Mill, in yonder hollow.
AN APPRENTICE.
Go to the River Tavern, I should say;
SECOND APPRENTICE.
But then, it 's not a pleasant way.
THE OTHERS.
And what •^'■CiS.you ?
A THIRD.
As goes the crowd, I follow.
A FOURTH.
Come up to Burgdorf \ ' There you '11 find good cheer, The finest lasses and the best of beer, And jolly rows and squabbles, trust me !
SCEATE //. 35
A FIFTH.
You swaggering fellow, is your hide
A third time itching to be tried ?
I won't go there, your jolly rows disgust me !
SERVANT-GIRL.
No, — no ! I '11 turn and go to town again.
ANOTHER.
We '11 surely find him by those poplars yonder.
THE FIRST.
That 's no great luck for me, 't is plain. You '11 have him, when and where you wander ; His partner in the dance you '11 be, — But what is all your fun to me ?
THE OTHER.
He 's surely not alone to-day :
He '11 be with Curly-head, I heard-him say.
A STUDENT.
Deuce ! how they step, the buxom wenches ! Come, Brother ! we must see them to the benches. A strongjj)J^beerj^ajgi£e that stingsjL,nd bjt^s^ X"^ in Sunday clothes, — these three are^ iey.delights.
citizen's daughter. Just see those handsome fellows, there ! It 's really shameful, I declare ; — To follow servant-girls, when they Might have the most genteel society to-day !
SECOND STUDENT (to the First).
Not quite so fast ! Two others come behind, — Those, dressed so prettily and neatly.
3 6 FAUST.
My neighbor 's one of them, I find, A girl that takes my heart, completely. They go their way with looks demure, But they '11 accept us, after all, I 'm sure.
THE FIRST.
No, Brother ! not for me their formal ways. Quick ! lest our game escape us in the press : The hand that wields the broom on Saturdays Will best, on Sundays, fondle and caress.
CITIZEN.
He suits me not at all, our new-made Burgomaster !
Since he 's installed, his arrogance grows faster.
How has he helped the town, I say ?
Things worsen, — what improvement names he ?
Obedience, more than ever, claims he.
And more than ever we must pay !
beggAr {sings). Good gentlemen and lovely ladies. So red of cheek and fine of dress. Behold, how needful here your aid is, C; And see and lighten my distress ! Let me not vainly sing my ditty ; He 's only glad who gives away : A holiday, that shows your pity. Shall be for me a harvest-day !
I ANOTHER CITIZEN.
On Sundays, holidays, there 's naught I take delight in,
Like gossiping of war, and war's array,
When down in Turkey, far away.
The foreign people are a-fighting.
One at the window sits, with glass and friends,
SCENE II. 37
And sees all sorts of ships go down the river gliding : And blesses then, as home he wends At night, our times of peace abiding.
THIRD CITIZEN.
Yes, Neighbor ! that 's my notion, too :
Why, let them break their heads, let loose their passions.
And rriix things madly through and through.
So, here, we keep our good old fashions !
OLD WOMAN {to the Citizen's Daughter). Dear me, how fine ! So handsome, and so young ! Who would n't lose his heart, that met you ? Don't be so proud ! I '11 hold my tongue, And what you 'd like I '11 undertake to get you.
citizen's daughter. .Come, Agatha ! I shun the witch's sight Before folks, lest there be misgiving : 'T is true, she showed me, on Saint Andrew's Night,36 My future sweetheart, just as he were living.
THE OTHER.
She showed me mine, in crystal clear, 3? With several wild young blades, a soldier-lover : I seek him everywhere, I pry and peer. And yet, somehow, his face I can't discover.
soldiers. Castles, with lofty Ramparts and towers. Maidens disdainful In Beauty's array. Both shall be ours ! Bold is the venture. Splendid the pay !
38
FAUST.
Lads, let the trumpets
For us be suing, —
Calling to pleasure,
Calling to ruin.
Stormy our life is ;
Such is its boon !
Maidens and castles
Capitulate soon.
Bold is the venture,
Splendid the pay !
And the soldiers go marching,
Marching away !
Faust and Wagner.
FAUST.
^ Released from ice are brook and river 38 By the quickening glance of the gracious Spring; The colors of hope to the valley cling. And weak old Winter himself must shiver, Withdrawn to the mountains, a crownless king : Whence, ever retreating, he sends again Impotent showers of sleet that darkle in belts across the green o' the plain. But the sun will permit no white to sparkle ; Everywhere form in development moveth ; He will brighten the world with the tints he loveth, And, lacking blossoms, blue, yellow, and red, He takes these gaudy people instead. Turn thee about, and from this height Back on the town direct thy sight. Out of the hollow, gloomy gate. The motley throngs come forth elate : Each will the joy of the sunshine hoard. To honor the Day of the Risen Lord !
SCENE II. 39
They feel, themselves, their resurrection :
From the low, dark rooms, scarce habitable ;
From the bonds of Work, from Trade's restriction ;
From the pressing weight of roof and -gable ;
From the narrow, crushing streets and alleys ;
From the churches' solemn and reverend night,
All come forth to the cheerful light.
How lively, see ! the multitude sallies.
Scattering through gardens and fields remote,
While over the river, that broadly dallies,
Dances so many a festive boat ;
And overladen, nigh to sinking.
The last full wherry takes the stream.
Yonder afar, from the hill-paths blinking,
Their clothes are colors that softly gleam.
I hear the noise of the village, even ;
Here is the People's proper Heaven ;
Here high and low contented see !
Here I am Man, — dare man to be ! o
WAr' -'"-^ g care. -, f 11 , »nany a man stands hving here, /ed by your father's skilful hand, p. , .hat snatched him from the fever's rage 'And stayed the plague in all the land. Then also you, though but a youth,f Went into every house of pain : Many the corpses carried forth, But you in health came out again. No test or trial you evaded : A Helping God the helper aided.-
ALL.
Health to the man, so skilled and tried, That for our help he long may bide !
Sinr Th' I 1
40 FA UST.
Around the linden lass and lad Already footed it like mad :
Hurrah ! hurrah !
Hurrah — tarara-la !
The fiddle-bow was playing.
He broke the ranks, no whit afraid, And with his elbow punched a maid,
Who stood, the dance surveying : The buxom wench, she turned and said : " Now, you I call a stupid-head ! "
Hurrah ! hurrah !
Hurrah — tarara-la !
" Be decent while you 're staying ! "
Then round the circle went their flight. They danced to left, they danced to right : Their kirtles all were playing. ByThev first grew red, and then grew warm, The colorsted, panting, arm in arm, — ^ And weak old I hurrah ! )
Withdrawn to the mountaiho, .
Whence, ever retreating, he sends again
Impotent showers of sleet that darkle
In belts across the green o' the plain.
But the sun will permit no white to sparkle ;
Everywhere form in development moveth ;
He will brighten the world with the tints he lovc
And, lacking blossoms, blue, yellow, and red.
He takes these gaudy people instead.
Turn thee about, and from this height
Back on the town direct thy sight.
Out of the hollow, gloomy gate,
The motley throngs come forth elate :
Each will the joy of the sunshine hoard.
To honor the Day of the Risen Lord !
SCENE II.
Among this crowd of merry folk,
A highly-learned man, to stray.
Then also take the finest can,
We fill with fresh wine, for your sake :
I offer it, and humbly wish
That not alone your thirst it slake, —
That, as the drops below its brink.
So many days of life you drink !
FAUST.
I take the cup you kindly reach. With thanks and health to all and each.
( The People gather in a circle about him.)
OLD PEASANT.
In truth, 't is well and fitly timed, That now our day of joy you share, Who heretofore, in evil days. Gave us so much of helping care. Still many a man stands living here. Saved by your father's skilful hand, That snatched him from the fever's rage And stayed the plague in all the land. Then also you, though but a youth,f Went into every house of pain : Many the corpses carried forth, But you in health came out again. No test or trial you evaded : A Helping God the helper aided.-
ALL.
Health to the man, so skilled and tried, That for our help he long may bide !
41
42 FAUST.
FAUST.
To Him above bow down, my friends, Who teaches help, and succor sends !
{He goes on with Wagner.) WAGNER.
With what a feeling, thou great man, must thou
Receive the people's honest veneration !
How lucky he, whose gifts his station
With such advantages endow !
Thou 'rt shown to all the younger generation :
Each asks, and presses near to gaze ;
The fiddle stops, the dance delays.
Thou goest, they stand in rows to see.
And all the caps are lifted high ;
A little more, and they would bend the knee
As if the Holy Host came by.
FAUST.
A few more steps ascend, as far as yonder stone ! — Here from our wandering will we rest contented. Here, lost in thought, I 've lingered oft alone, When foolish fasts and prayers my life tormented. Here, rich in hope and firm in faith, With tears, wrung hands and sighs, I 've striven. The end of that far-spreading death Entreating from the Lord of Heaven ! Now hke contempt the crowd's applauses seem : Couldst thou but read, within mine inmost spirit, How little now I deem That sire or son such praises merit! My father's was a sombre, brooding brain, Which through the holy spheres of Nature groped and wandered.
/
SCENE II. 43
And honestly, in his own fashion, pondered
With labor whimsical, and pain :
Who, in his dusky work-shop bending.
With proved adepts in company,
Made, from his recipes unending,
Opposing substances agree.
There was a Lion red, a wooer daring,-*^
Within the Lily's tepid bath espoused.
And both, tormented then by flame unsparing,
By turns in either bridal chamber housed.
If then appeared, with colors splendid.
The young Queen in her crystal shell,
This was the medicine — the patients' woes soon ended,
And none demanded : who got well .''
Thus we, our helHsh boluses compounding,
Among these vales and hills surrounding.
Worse than the pestilence, have passed.
Thousands were done to death from poison of my giving;
And I must hear, by all the living.
The shameless murderers praised at last !
WAGNER.
Why, therefore, yield to such depression ? | A good man does his honest share In exercising, with the strictest care. The art bequeathed to his possession : Dost thou thy father honor, as a youth ? Then may his teaching cheerfully impel thee : Dost thou, as man, increase the stores of truth ? Then may thine own son afterwards excel thee. /
/ FAUST. (S^
O '°T?py he, who still renews
T"^^hope, from Error's deeps to rise forever !
which one does not know, one needs to use ;
',nd^
44
FAUST.
And what one knows, one uses never.
But let us not, by such despondence, so
The fortune of this hour embitter !
Mark how, beneath the evening sunHght's glow,
The green-embosomed houses glitter !
The glow retreats, done is the day of toil •,
It yonder hastes, new fields of life exploring ;
Ah, that no wing can lift me from the soil,
Upon its track to follow, follow soaring !
Then would I see eternal Evening gild
The silent world beneath me glowing.
On fire each mountain-peak, with peace each valley
filled. The silver brook to golden rivers flowing. The mountain-cloain, with all its gorges deep. Would then no more impede my godlike motion ; And now before mine eyes expands the ocean With all its bays, in shining sleep ! Yet, finally, the weary god is sinking ; The new-born impulse fires my mind, — I hasten on, his beams eternal drinking, The Day before me and the Night behind, Above me heaven unfurled, the floor of waves beneath
me,— A glorious dream ! though now the glories fade. i^U|) Alas ! the wings that lift the mind no aid Of wings to lift the body can bequeath me. Yet in each soul is born the pleasure Of yearning onward, upward and away, When o'er our heads, lost in the vaulted azure, The lark sends down his flickering lay, — When over, crags and piny highlands 'f he poising eagle slowly soars. And over plains and lakes and islands The crane sails by to other shores.
SCENE II. 45
WAGNER.
I 've had, myself, at times, some odd caprices,
But never yet such impulse felt, as this is.
One soon fatigues, on woods and fields to look,
Nor would I beg the bird his wing to spare us :
How otherwise the mental raptures bear us
From page to page, from book to book !
Then winter nights take loveliness untold.
As warmer life in every limb had crowned you ;
And when your hands unroll some parchment rare and
old. All Heaven descends, and opens bright around you !
FAUST.
One impulse art thou conscious of, at best ; O, never seek to know the other ! rTwo souls, alas ! reside within my breast, An^ each withdraws from, and repels, its brother. One with tenacious organs holds in love And clinging lust the world in its embraces ; i /
The other strongly sweeps, this dust above, /
Into the high ancestral spaces. If there be airy spirits near,43
'Twixt Heaven and Earth on potent errands fleeing. Let them drop down the golden atmosphere. And bear me forth to new and varied being ! Yea, if a magic mantle once were mine. To waft me o'er the world at pleasure, I would not for the costliest stores of treasure — Not for a monarch's robe — the gift resign.
WAGNER.
Invoke not thus the well-known throng,
Which through the firmament diffused is faring.
And danger thousand-fold, our race to wrong,
46 FAUST.
In every quarter is preparing. Swift from the North the spirit-fangs so sharp ^^ Sweep down, and with their barbdd points assail you*, Then from the East they come, to dry and warp Your lungs, till breath and being fail you : If from the Desert sendeth them the South, With fire on fire your throbbing forehead crowning, The West leads on a host, to cure the drouth Only when meadow, field, and you are drowning. They gladly hearken, prompt for injury, — Gladly obey, because they gladly cheat us ; From Heaven they represent themselves to be, And lisp like angels, when with lies they meet us. But, let us go ! 'T is gray and dusky all : The air is cold, the vapors fall. At night, one learns his house to prize : — Why stand you thus, with such astonished eyes ? What, in the twilight, can your mind so trouble ? ''■'■' ''•■■,
■ j FAUST.
Seest thou the black dog coursing there, through corn and stubble? 45
WAGNER.
Long since : yet deemed him not important in the least.
FAUST.
Inspect him close : for what tak'st thou the beast ?
WAGNER.
Why, for a poodle who has lost his master, And scents about, his track to find.
FAUST.
Seest thou the spiral circles, narrowing faster. Which he, approaching, round us seems to wind ?
SCENE II. 47
A streaming trail of fire, if I see rightly, Follows his path of mystery.
WAGNER.
It may be that your eyes deceive you slightly ; Naught but a plain black poodle do I see.
FAUST.
It seems to me that with enchanted cunning He snares our feet, some future chain to bind.
WAGNER.
I see him timidly, in doubt, around us running,
Since, in his master's stead, two strangers doth he find
FAUST.
The circle narrows : he is near ! I
WAGNER.
A dog thou seest, and not a phantom, here ! Behold him stop — upon his belly crawl — His tail set wagging : canine habits, all !
FAUST.
Come, follow us ! Come here, at least !
WAGNER.
'T is the absurdest, drollest beast. Stand still, and you will see him wait ; Address him, and he gambols straight ; If something 's lost, he '11 quickly bring it, — Your cane, if in the stream you fling it.
FAUST.
No doubt you 're right : no trace of mind, I own, Is in the beast : I see but drill, alone.
48 FAUST.
WAGNER.
The dog, when he 's well educated, Is by the wisest tolerated. Yes, he deserves your favor thoroughly, The clever scholar of the students, he ! ( They pass in the city-gate.)
SCENE III. 49
III. THE STUDY.
FAUST. {Entering, with the poodle.)
BEHIND me, field and meadow sleeping, I leave in deep, prophetic night. Within whose dread and holy keeping The better soul awakes to light. ,^ |^
The wild desires no longer win us, The deeds of passion cease to chain ; The love of Man revives within us. The love of God revives again.
Be still, thou poodle ! make not such racket and riot !
Why at the threshold wilt snuffing be ?
Behind the stove repose thee in quiet !
My softest cushion I give to thee.
As thou, up yonder, with running and leaping
Amused us hast, on the mountain's crest,
So now I take thee into my keeping,
A welcome, but also a silent, guest.
Ah, when, within our narrow chamber The lamp with friendly lustre glows, Flames in the breast each faded ember. And in the heart, itself that knows. Then Hope again lends sweet assistance,
lUd Reason then resumes her speech : 5- *^
>ne yearns, the rivers of existence,
'he very founts of Life, to reach. VOL. It. 3 D
l-^JlAyK. A^^AM^
50 FAUST,
Snarl not, poodle ! To the sound that rises,
The sacred tones that my soul embrace.
This bestial noise is out of place.
We are used to see, that Man despises
What he never comprehends.
And the Good and the Beautiful vilipends,
Finding them often hard to measured
Will the dog, like man, snarl his displeasure ?
V
/ But ah ! I feel, though will thereto be stronger. Contentment flows from out my breast no longer. Why must the stream so soon run dry and fail us. And burning thirst again assail us ? Therein I 've borne so much probation ! And yet, this want may be supplied us ; We call the Supernatural to guide us ; //
We pine and thirst for Revelation, /
Which nowhere worthier is, more nobly sent, / Than here, in our New Testament. I feel impelled, its meaning to determine, — With honest purpose, once for all. The hallowed Original To change to my beloved German.
[He opens a volume, and commences.)
'Tis written: "In the Beginning was the JVord."'^^
Here am I balked : who, now, can help afford ?
The Word? — impossible so high to rate it ;
And otherwise must I translate it.
If by the Spirit I am^'tfuTy^taught. "" '\
Then thus : " Jn.the Beginning was th« Thought.'"
This first line let me weigh completely,
Lest my impatient pen proceed too fleetly.
Is it the Thought which works, creates, indeed .?
" In the Beginning was the Power^y I read.
SCENE III.
Yet, as I write, a warning is suggested, That I the sense may not have fairly tested. The Spirit aids me : now I see the light ! In the Beginning was theAct" I write.
51
/^I must s
I must share my chamber with thee, Poodle, stop that howling, prithee ! Cease to bark and bellow ! Such a noisy, disturbing fellow I '11 no longer suffer near me. One of us, dost hear me ! Must leave, I fear me. No longer guest-right I bestow ; The door is open, art free to go. But what do I see in the creature ? Is that in the course of nature .'' Is 't actual fact ? or Fancy's shows ? How long and broad my poodle grows ! He rises mightily : A canine form that cannot be ! What a spectre I 've harbored thus ! He resembles a hippopotamus. With fiery eyes, teeth terrible to see : O, now am I sure of thee ! For all of thy half-hellish brood The Key of Solomon is good.-*'
SPIRITS (m the corridor). Some one, within, is caught ! Stay without, follow him not ! Like the fox in a snare. Quakes the old hell-lynx there. Take heed — look about ! Back and forth hover. Under and over,
52
FAUST.
And he '11 work himself out. If your aid can avail him, Let it not fail him ; For he, without measure, Has wrought for our pleasure.
FAUST.
First, to encounter the beast, ,
The Words of the Four be addressed;'*^'' Salamander, shine glorious ! ■iisA.y^ Wave, Undine, as bidden ! vv/V/^'t Sylph, be thou hidden ! <^-^- ^ a
Who knows not their sense (These elements), — Their properties And power not sees, — No mastery he inherits Over the Spirits.
Vanish in flaming ether,
Salamander !
Flow foamingly together,
Undine !
Shine in meteor-sheen.
Sylph!
Bring help to hearth and shelf.
Incubus ! Incubus !
Step forward, and finish thus '
Of the Four, no feature
Lurks in the creature.
Quiet he lies, and grins disdain :
Not yet, it seems, have I given him pain.
SCENE III. 53
Now, to undisguise thee,^ Hear me exorcise thee ! Art thou, my gay one, Hell's fugitive stray-one ? The sign witness now, Before which they bow. The cohorts of Hell !
With hair all bristling, it begins to swell.
Knowest and fearest thou The One, unorigiiiate,5° Named inexpressibly, Through all Heaven impermeate. Pierced irredressibly !
Behind the stove still banned.
See it, an elephant, expand !
It fills the space entire,
Mist-like melting, ever faster.
'T is enough : ascend no higher, —
Lay thyself at the feet of the Master !
Thou seest, not vain the threats I bring thee :
With holy fire I '11 scorch and sting thee ! •
Wait not to know
The threefold dazzling glow !
Wait not to know
The strongest art within my hands!
MEPHISTOPHELES 5»
r* < {whiie the vapor is dissipating^ steps forth from behind the stove^
in the costume of a Travelling ^/Juilar) . Why such a noise ? What are my lord's commands ?
54 FAUST.
FAUST.
This was the poodle's real core,
A travelling scholar, then ? The casus is diverting.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
The learned gentleman I bow before :
You 've made me roundly sweat, that 's certain !
FAUST.
What is thy name ?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
A question small, it seems, For one whose mind the Word so much despises ; \ Who, scorning all external gleams, hThe depths of being only prizes.
FAUST.
With all you gentlemen, the name 's a test,
Whereby the nature usually is expressed.
Clearly the latter it implies
In names like Beelzebub, Destroyer, Father of Lies.s^
WhqjuUhOil^hen ?
' ~ \ ^ "
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Part of that Power, not understood, Which alwayl wills the Bad, and always works the Good.
FAUST.
What hidden sense in this enigma lies ?
\ i MEPHISTOPHELES. (\ 4 )
J am'tFe Spirkjhat Denies ! 53 ^''-^
And justly so : for all things, from the Void Called forth, deserve to be destroyed :
SCENE ///. 55
'T were better, then, were naught created. Thus, all which you as Sin have rated, — Destruction, — aught with Evil blent, — That is my proper element.
FAUST.
r
Thou nam'st thyself a part, yet show'st complete to me ?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
The modest truth I speak to thee.
If Man, that microcosmic fool, can see
Himself a whole so frequently,
Part of the Part am I, once All, in primal Night, —
Part of the Darkness which brought forth the Light,
The haughty Light, which now disputes the space,
^nd claims of Mother Night her ancient place.
And yet, the struggle fails ; since Light, howe'er it weaves,
Still, fettered, unto bodies cleaves :
It flows from bodies, bodies beautifies ;
By bodies is its course impeded ;
And so, but httle time is needed,
I hope, ere, as the bodies die, it dies !
FAUST.
I see the plan thou art pursuing : Thou canst not compass general ruin. And hast on smaller scale begun.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
And truly 't is not much, when all is done.
That which to Naught is in resistance set, —
The Something of this clumsy world, — has yet,
With all that I have undertaken.
Not been by me disturbed or shaken :
From earthquake, tempest, wave, volcano's brand,
56
FA (JST.
Back into quiet settle sea and land !
And that damned stuff, the bestial, human brood, —
What use, in having that to play with ?
How many have I made away with !
And ever circulates a newer, fresher blood.
It makes me furious, such things beholding :
From Water, Earth, and Air unfolding,
A thousand germs break forth and grow,54
In dry, and wet, and warm, and chilly ;
And had I not the Flame reserved, why, really,
There 's nothing special of my own to show !
FAUST.
So, to the actively eternal ^^
Creative force, in cold disdain v'v
You now oppose the fist infernal, Whose wicked clench is all in vain ! Some other labor seek thou rather. Queer Son of Chaos, to begin !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Well, we '11 consider : thou canst gather My views, when next I venture in. Might I, perhaps, depart at present?
FAUST.
Why thou shouldst ask, I don't perceive. Though our acquaintance is so recent, For further visits thou hast leave. The window 's here, the door is yonder ; A chimney, also, you behold.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
I must confess that forth I may not wander, My steps by one slight obstacle controlled, — The wizard's-foot, that on your threshold made is.ss
SCENE III. 57
FAUST.
The pentagram prohibits thee ?
Why, tell me now, thou Son of Hades,
If that prevents, how cam'st thou in to me ?
Could such a spirit be so cheated ?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Inspect the thing : the drawing 's not completed. The outer angle, you may see. Is open left — the hues don't fit it.
FAUST.
Well, — Chance, this time, has fairly hit it ! And thus, thou 'rt prisoner to me ? It seems the business has succeeded.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
The poodle naught remarked, as after thee he speeded; But other aspects now obtain : The Devil can't get out again.
FAUST.
Try, then, the open window-pane !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
For Devils and for spectres this is law :
Where they have entered in, there also they withdraw.
The first is free to us ; we 're governed by the second.
FAUST.
In Hell itself, then, laws are reckoned? That 's well ! So might a compact be Made with you gentlemen — and binding, — surely? 3*
58 FAUST.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
All that is promised shall delight thee purely;
No skinflint bargain shalt thou see.
But this is not of swift conclusion ;
We '11 talk about the matter soon.
And now, I do entreat this boon —
Leave to withdraw from my intrusion.
FAUST.
One moment more I ask thee to remain, Some pleasant news, at least, to tell me.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Release me, now ! I soon shall come again ; Then thou, at will, mayst question and compel me.
FAUST.
I have not snares around thee cast ;
Thyself hast led thyself into the meshes.
Who traps the Devil, hold him fast !
Not soon a second time he'll catch a prey so precious.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
An 't please thee, also I 'm content to stay,
And serve thee in a social station ;
But stipulating, that I may
With arts of mine afford thee recreation.
FAUST.
Thereto I willingly agree. If the diversion pleasant be.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
My friend, thou 'It win, past all pretences, More in this hour to soothe thy senses, Than in the year's monotony.
SCENE III.
That which the dainty spirits sing thee, The lovely pictures they shall bring thee. Are more than magic's empty show. Thy scent will be to bliss invited ; Thy palate then with taste delighted, Thy nerves of touch ecstatic glow ! All jinprepared, the charm I spin : We 're here together, so begin !
SPIRITS.S^
Vanish, ye darkling Arches above him ! Loveliest weather, Born of blue ether, Break from the sky ! O that the darkling Clouds had departed ! Starlight is sparkling, Tranquiller-hearted Suns are on high. Heaven's own children In beauty bewildering, Waveringly bending. Pass as they hover ; Longing unending Follows them over. They, with their glowing Garments, out-flowing, Cover, in going, Landscape and bower. Where, in seclusion, Lovers are plighted, Lost in illusion. Bower on bower ! Tendrils unblighted !
59
6o FAUST.
Lo ! in a shower Grapes that o'ercluster Gush into must, or
r~.
Flow into rivers 1 1^^^
Of foaming and flashing ^^
Wine, that is dashing
Gems, as it boundeth ' ♦
Down the high places,
And spreading, surroundeth
With crystalHne spaces,
In happy embraces,
Blossoming forelands,
Emerald shore-lands !
And the winged races
Drink, and fly onward —
Fly ever sunward
To the enticing
Islands, that flatter,
Dipping and rising
Light on the water !
Hark, the inspiring
Sound of their quiring !
See, the entrancing
Whirl of their dancing !
All in the air are
Freer and fairer.
Some of them scaHng
Boldly the highlands,
Others are sailing,
Circhng the islands ;
Others are flying ;
Life-ward all hieing, — ■
All for the distant
Star of existent
Rapture and Love !
SCENE III. 6 1
MEPHISTOPHELES.
He sleeps ! Enough, ye fays ! your airy number
Have sung him truly into slumber :
For this performance I your debtor prove. —
Not yet art thou the man, to catch the Fiend and hold
him ! — With fairest images of dreams infold him, Plunge him in seas of sweet untruth ! Yet, for the threshold's magic which controlled him, The Devil needs a rat's quick tooth. I use no lengthened invocation : Here rustles one that soon will work my liberation.
The lord of rats and eke of mice, Of flies and bed-bugs, frogs and lice. Summons thee hither to the door-sill, To gnaw it where, with just a morsel Of oil, he paints the spot for thee : — There com'st thou, hopping on to me ! To work, at once ! The point which made me craven Is forward, on the ledge, engraven. ,
Another bite makes free the door : So, dream thy dreams, O Faust, until we meet once more !
FAUST {awaking).
Am I again so foully cheated ? Remains there naught of lofty spirit-sway, But that a dream the Devil counterfeited, And that a poodle ran away ?
62 * FAUST.
A
IV.
THE STUDY.
Faust. Mephistopheles.
FAUST.
KNOCK ? Come in ! Again my quiet broken ?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
'T is I !
FAUST.
Come in !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Thrice must the words be spoken.
FAUST.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Thus thou pleasest me. I hope we '11 suit each other well ; For now, thy vapors to dispel, I come, a squit*e of high degree,s7 In scarlet coat, with goFden trimming, A cloak in silken lustre swimming, A tall cock's-feather in my hat, A long, sharp sword for show or quarrel, And I advise thee, brief and flat,
SCENE IV. dT^
To don the self-same gay apparel, That, from this den released, and free, Life be at last revealed to thee !
FAUST.
This life of earth, whatever my attire, J^-;^^^ Would pain me in its wonted fashion.s^ Too old am I to play with passion ; ^-^ Too youn^, to be without desire. QT!
What from the world have I to gain ? Thou shalt abstain — renounce — refrain ! Such is the everlasting song Irhat iiTtlie ears ot alTmen rings, — That unrelieved, our whole life long. Each hour, in passing, hoarsely sings. In very terror I at morn awake, Upon the verge of bitter weeping, To see the day of disappointment break, To no one hope of mine — not one — its promise keep- ing : — That even each joy's presentiment With wilful cavil would diminish. With grinning masks of life.prevent My mind its fairest work to finish ! Then, too, when night descends, how anxiously Upon my couch of sleep I lay me : There, also, comes no rest to me,59 But some wild dream is sent to fray me. The God that in my breast is owned Can deeply stir the inner sources ; The God, above my powers enthroned. He cannot change external forces. So, by the burden of my days oppressed, Death is desired, and Life a thing unblest !
64 FAUST.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
And yet is never Death a wholly welcome guest.
FAUST.
O fortunate, for whom, when victory glances, The bloody laurels on the brow he bindeth ! Whom, after rapid, maddening dances. In clasping maiden-arms he findeth ! O would that I, before that spirit-power, Ravished and rapt from life, had sunken !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
And yet, by some one, in that nightly hour, A certain Uquid was not drunken.
FAUST.
Eavesdropping, ha ! thy pleasure seems to be.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Omniscient am I not ; yet much is known to^ m^.
FAUST. ^
Though some familiar toae, retrieving ^^ Q\
-■ My thoughts from torment, led me on,
£^ And sweet, clear echoes came, deceiving
A faith bequeathed from Childhood's dawn. Yet now I curse whate'er entices And snares the soul with visions vain ; With dazzling cheats and dear devices Confines it in this cave of pain ! Cursed be, at once, the high ambition Wherewith the mind itself deludes ! Cursed be the glare of apparition That on the finer sense intrudes !
SCENE IV. 65
Cursed be the lying dream's impression
Of name, and fame, and laurelled brow !
Cursed, all that flatters as possession,
As wife and child, as knave and plow !
Cursed Mammon be, when he with treasures
To restless action spurs our fate !
Cursed when, for soft, indulgent leisures,
He lays for us the pillows straight !
Cursed be the vine's transcendent nectar, —
The highest favor Love lets fall !
Cursed, also, Hope ! — cursed Faith, the specttS-L
And cursed be Patience most of all !
CHORUS OF SPIRITS {invisible),^
Woe ! woe !
Thou hast it destroyed,
The beautiful world,
With powerful fist :
In ruin 't is hurled.
By the blow of a demigod shattered !
The scattered
Fragments into the Void we carry,
Deploring
The beauty perished beyond restoring.
Mightier
For the children of men,
Brightlier
Build it again,
In thine own bosom build it anew !
Bid the new career
Commence,
With clearer sense,
And the new songs of cheer
Be sung thereto !
66 FA UST.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
These are the small dependants Who give me attendance. Hear them, to deeds and passion Counsel in shrewd old-fashion ! Into the world of strife, Out of this lonely life That of senses and sap has betrayed thee, They would persuade thee. This nursing of the pain forego thee, That, like a vulture, feeds upon thy breast ! The worst society thou find'st will show thee " Thou art a man among the rest. But 't is not meant to thrust Thee into the mob thou hatest ! { I am not one of the greatest. Yet, wilt thou to me entrust Thy steps through hfe, I 'll^uide thee, — ■ Will willingly walk beside thee, — Will serve thee-at once anH forever With best endeavor. And, if thou art satisfied, ^lil as servant, slave, with thee abide.
FAUST.
And what shall be my counter-service therefor ?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
The time is long : thou need'st not now insist.
FAUST.
No — no ! The Devil is an egotist.
And is not apt, without a why or wherefore,
" For God's sake," others to assist.
SCENE IV. 67
Speak thy conditions plain and clear ! With such a servant danger comes, I fear.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Here, an unwearied slave, I '11 wear thy tether, And to thine every nod obedient be : L-
When There again we come together, Then shalt thou do the same for me.
FAUST.
The There my scruples naught increases.
When thou hast dashed this world to pieces.
The other, then, its place may fill.
Here, on this earth, my pleasures have their sources j
Yon sun beholds my sorrows in his courses ;
And when from these my life itself divorces.
Let happen all that can or will !
I '11 hear no more : 't is vain to ponder
If there we cherish love or hate.
Or, in the spheres we dream of yonder,
A High and Low our souls await.^'
MEPHISTOPHELES.
In this sense, even, canst thou venture. Come, bind thyself by prompt indenture, And thou mine arts with joy shalt see : What no man ever saw, I '11 give to thee.
FAUST.
»> Canst thou, poor Devil, give me whatsoever ? When was a human soul, in its supreme endeavor, .
E'er understood by such as thou ? ^ V
Yet, hast thou food which never satiates, now, — The restless, ruddy gold hast thou. That runs, quicksilver-Hke, one's fingers through, —
68 FAUST.
A game whose winnings no man ever knew, —
A maid, that, even from my breast,
Beckons my neighbor with her wanton glances.
And Honor's godlike zest,
The meteor that a moment dances, —
Show me the fruits that, ere they 're gathered, rot,^
And trees that daily with new leafage clothe them !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Such a demand alarms me not : Such treasures have I, and can show them. But still the time may reach us, good my friend. When peace we crave and more luxurious diet.
FAUST.
When on an idler's bed I stretch myself in quiet. There let, at once, my record end ! Canst thou with lying flattery rule me, . Until, self-pleased, myself I see, — \
Canst thou with rich enjoyment fool me, ^.^^ Let that day be the last for me ! KT)
The bet I offer. '^
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Done !
FAUST.
j^>-""'^/ ^ And heartily!
^:;^ yWlien thus I hail the Moment flvmg : ^ "Ah, still delay — thou art so fair ! " ^3
Then bmd me in thy bonds undying, My final ruin then declare ! * Then let the death-bell chime the token. Then art thou from thy service free ! The clock may stop, the hand be broken, Then Time be finished unto me ! "
y
SCENE IV. 69
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Consider well ; my memory good is rated.
FAUST.
Thou- hast a perfect right thereto.
My powers I have not rashly estimated :
A slave am I, whate'er I do —
If thine, or whose ? 't is needless to debate it
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Then at the Doctors '-banquet I, to-day,^-*
Will as a servant wait behind thee.
But one thing more ! Beyond all risk to bind thee, . ^-
Give me a line or two, I pray.
FAUST.
Demand'st thou, Pedant, too, a document ?
Hast never known a man, nor proved his word's intent?
Is 't not enough, that what I speak to-day
Shall stand, with all my future days agreeing?
In all its tides sweeps not the world away,
And shall a promise bind my being?
Yet this delusion in our hearts we bear :
Who would himself therefrom deliver ?
Blest he, whose bosom Truth makes pure and fair !
No sacrifice shall he repent of ever.
Nathless a parchment, \mt and stamped with care,
A spectre is, which all to shun endeavor.
The word, alas ! dies even in the pen,
And wax and leather keep the lordship then.
What wilt from me, Base Spirit, say? —
Brass, marble, parchment, paper, clay?
The terms with graver, quill, or chisel, stated ?
1 freely leave the choice to thee.
70
FAUST.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Why heat thyself, thus instantly,
With eloquence exaggerated ?
Each leaf for such a pact is good ;
And to subscribe thy name thou 'It take a drop of blood.
FAUST.
If thou therewith art fully satisfied, So let us by the farce abide.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
\ ] Blood is a juice of rarest quahty.
FAUST.
Fear not that I this pact shall seek to sever !
The promise that I make to thee
Is just the sura of my endeavor.
I have myself inflated all too high ;
My proper place is thy estate :
The Mighty Spirit deigns me no reply,
And Nature shuts on me her gate.
The thread of Thought at last is broken,
And knowledge brings disgust unspoken.
(Let us the sensual deeps explore. To quench the fervors of glowing passion ! Let every marvel tpJlic lorm and fashion Through the impervious veil it wore ! Plunge we in Time's tumultuous dance. In the rush and roll of Circumstance ! Then may delight and distress. And worry and success, ^_^
Alternately follow, as best they can j A V . .Restless activity proves the man ! / \ V,*, "^ ' / ■
l\
SCENE IV. 71
MEPHISTOPHELES.
For you no bound, no term is set. Whether you everywhere be trying, Or snatch a rapid bliss in flying, May it agree with you, what you get ! Only fall to, and show no timid balking.
FAUST.
But thou hast heard, 't is not of joy we 're talking. I take the wildering whirl, enjoyment's keenest pain, Enamored hate, exhilarant disdain. My bosom, of its thirst for knowledge sated. Shall not, henceforth, from any pang be wrested, /^^ And all of life for all mankind created ^s f 5O
Shall be within mine inmost being tested : ^. -
"^h^ highest, lowest forms my soul shall borrow, Shall heap upon itself their bliss and sorrow. And thus, my own sole self to all their selves expanded, I too, at last, shall with them all be stranded!
(S
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Believe me, who for many a thousand year
The same tough meat have chewed and testad*
That from the cradle to the bier
No man the ancient leaven has digested !
Trust one of us, this Whole surpernal
Is made but for a God's delight! ^
He dwells in splendor single and ete^iial.
But us he thrusts in darkness, out of sight,
Ancy^WjfJiedowers with Day and Night.
FAUST.
Nay, but I will !
MEPHISTOPHELES
A good reply J
72
FAUST.
One only fear still needs repeating : • — 54Te art is long, the time is fleeting.
Then let thyself be taught, say I !
Go, league thyself with a poet,
Give the rein to his imagination.
Then wear the crown, and show it,
Of the qualities of his creation, —
The courage of the lion's breed,
The wild stag's speed, - /^^^"^
The Italian's fiery blood, ( '^O/
The North's firm fortitude ! V^/
Let him find for thee the secret tether
That binds the Noble and Mean together,
And teach thy pulses of youth and pleasure
TO/l6ve by rule, and hate by measure !
P^d hke, myself, such a one to see : '^Sir Microcosm his name should be.
FAUST.
What am I, then,, if 'tis denied my parL The crown, of all humanity to win me, "liVhereto yearns every sense within me ?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Why, on the whole, thou 'rt — what thou art. Set wigs of million curls upon thy head, to raise thee, Wear shoes an ell in height, — the truth betrays thee, And thou remainest — what thou art.
FAUST.
I feel, indeed, that I have made the treasure Of human thought and knowledge mine, in vain ; And if I now sit down in restful leisure, J^Jo fount of newer strength is in my brain :
SCENE IV. 73
J_ain no hair's-breadth more in height, Nor nearer to the Infinite.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Good Sir, you see the facts precisely
As they are seen by each and all.
We must arrange them now, more wisely.
Before the joys of life shall pall.
Why, Zounds ! Both hands and feet are, truly —
And head and virile forces — thine :
Yet all that I indulge in newly.
Is 't thence less wholly mine ?
If I 've six stallions in my stall.
Are not their forces also lent me ?
I speed along, completest man of all,
As though my legs were four-and-twenty.
Take hold, then ! let reflection rest,
And plunge into the world with zest !
I say to thee, a speculative wight
Is like a beast on moorlands lean,
That round and round some fiend misleads to evil plight,
While all about lie pastures fresh and green.
FAUST.
Then how shall we begin ?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
We '11 try a wider sphere. What place of martyrdom is here ! Is^'t life, I ask, is 't even prudence, \^
To bore thyself and bore the students ? '^^
Let Neighbor Paunch to that attend ! Why plague thyself with threshing straw forever ? The best thou learnest, in the end VOL. I. 4
74
FAUST.
Thou dar'st not tell the youngsters — never ! I hear one's footsteps, hither steering.
FAUST.
To see him now I have no heart.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
So long the poor boy waits a hearing, He must jiot unconsoled depart. Thy cap and mantle straightway lend me ! I '11 play the comedy with art.
{He disguises himself.)
My wits, be certain, will befriend me. But fifteen minutes' time is all I need ; For our fine trip, meanwhile, prepare thyself with speed \
[Exit Faust.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
{/n Faust's long mantle. )
Reason and Knowledge only thou despise. The highest strength in man that lies ! Let but the Lying Spirit bind thee With magic works and shows that blind thee, And I shall have thee fast and sure ! ^ — Fate such a bold, untrammelled spirit gave him, As forwards, onwards, ever must endure ; Whose over-hasty impulse drave him Past earthly joys he might secure. Dragged through the wildest life, will I enslave him, I Through flat and stale indifference ;
With struggling, chilling, checking, so deprave him
That, to his hot, insatiate sense.
The dream of drink shall mock, but never lave him :
SCENE IV.
75
Refreshment shall his lips in vain implore —
Had he not made himself the Devil's, naught could save
him, Still were he lost forevermore !
(^ Student <r«/<?r J.) ^\
\ STUDENT.
A short time, only, am I here. And come, devoted and sincere. To greet and know the man of fame, Whom men to me with reverence name.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Your courtesy doth flatter me :
You see a man, as others be.
Have you, perchance, elsewhere begun }
STUDENT.
Receive me now, I pray, as one
Who comes to you with courage good,
Somewhat of cash, and healthy blood :
My mother was hardly willing to let me ;
But knowledge worth having I fain would get me,
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Then you have reached the right place now.
STUDENT.
I 'd like to leave it, I must avow ;
I find these walls, these vaulted spaces
Are anything but pleasant places.
'T is all so cramped and close and mean;
One sees no tree, no glimpse of greeji,
And when the lecture-halls receive me,
Seeing, hearing, and thinking leave me.
76
FA UST.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
All that depends on habitude.
So from its mother's breasts a child
At first, reluctant, takes its food,
But soon to seek them is beguiled.
Thus, at the breasts of Wisdom clinging.
Thou 'It find each day a greater rapture bringing.
STUDENT.
I '11 hang thereon with joy, and freely drain them ; But tell me, pray, the proper means to gain them.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Explain, before you further speak. The special faculty you seek.
STUDENT.
I crave the highest erudition ; And fain would make my acquisition All that there is in Earth and Heaven, In Nature and in Science too.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Here is the genuine path for you ; Yet strict attention must be given.
STUDENT.
Body and soul thereon I '11 wreak ; Yet, truly, I 've some incHnation On summer holidays to seek A little freedom and recreation.
. MEPHISTOPHELES.
Use well your time ! It flies so swiftly from us ; But time through order may be won, I promise.
I
SCENE IV.
77
(1-^
So, Friend, (my views to briefly sum,)
First, the collegiu?n logicum.
There will your mind be drilled and braced,
As if in Spanish boots 't were laced,
An4 thus, to graver paces brought,
'T will plod along the path of thought,
Instead of shooting here and there,
A will-o'-the-wisp in murky air.
Days will be spent to bid you know, ^^^^"^
What once you did at a single blow, ^>^
Like eating and drinking, free and strong, —
That one, two, three ! thereto belong.
Truly the fabric of mental fleece •r" — v
Resembles a weaver's masterpiece, '^
Where a thousand threads one treadle throws, \
Where fly the shuttles hither and thither.
Unseen the threads are knit together, J
And an infinite combination grows.
Then, the philosopher steps in
And shows, no otherwise it could have been :
The first was so, the second so.
Therefore the third and fourth are so ;
Were not the first and second, then
The third and fourth had never been.
The scholars are everywhere believers.
But never succeed in being weavers.
He who would study organic existence,
First drives out the soul with rigid persistence ;
Then the parts in his hand he may hold and class.
But the spiritual link is lost, alas !
Encheiresin naturcB^ this Chemistry names,^7
Nor knows how herself she banters and blames !
STUDENT. ^
I cannot understand you quite.
,-ttt«-^
trV
t\I>
78
FAUST.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Your mind will shortly be set aright, When you have learned, all things reducing, To classify them for your using.
STUDENT.
1 feel as stupid, from all you 've said. As if a mill-wheel whirled in my head !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
And after — first and foremost duty —
Of Metaphysics learn the use and beauty !
See that you most profoundly gain
What does not suit the human brain !
A splendid word to serve, you '11 find
For what goes in — or won't go in — your mind.
But first, at least this half a year,
To order rigidly adhere ;
Five hours a day, you understand.
And when the clock strikes, be on hand !
Prepare beforehand for your part
With paragraphs all got by heart.
So you can better watch, and look
That naught is said but what is in the book :
Yet in thy writing as unwearied be,
As did the Holy Ghost dictate to thee \^
STUDENT.
No need to tell me twice to do it ! I think, how useful 't is to write ; For what one has, in black and white, One carries home and then goes through it,
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Yet choose thyself a faculty !
"-v
SCENE IV. 79
STUDENT.
I cannot reconcile myself to Jurisprudence.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Nor can I therefore greatly blame you students: I know what science this has come to be. All rights and laws are still transmitted Like an eternal sickness of the race, — From generation unto generation fitted, And shifted round from place to place. Reason becomes a sham. Beneficence a worry : Thou art a grandchild, therefore woe to thee ! The right born with us, ours in verity. This to consider, there 's, alas ! no hurry.
STUDENT.
My own disgust is strengthened by your speech :
0 lucky he, whom you shall teach !
1 've almost for TheolQgy decided.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
I should not wish to see you here misguided : For, as regards this science, let me hint 'T is vpry harrl to sVinn fhf> falsp dirert^ioD-^. There 's so' much secret poison lurking in 't, So like the medicine, it baffles your detection. Hear, therefore, one alone, for that is best, in sooth, And simply take your master's words for truth. On words let your attention centre !^ Then through the safest gate you '11 enter The temple-halls of Certainty.
7§^ STUDENT.
Yet in the word must some idea be.
8o FA UST.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Of course ! But only shun too over-sharp a tension,
For just where fails the comprehension,
A word steps promptly in as deputy.
With words 't is excellent disputing ;
Systems to words 't is easy suiting ;
On words 't is excellent believing ;
No word can ever lose a jot from thieving.
STUDENT.
Pardon ! With many questions I detain you.
Yet must I trouble you again.
Of Medicine I still would fain
Hear one strong word that might explain you.
Three years is but a little space,
And, God ! who can the field embrace ?
If one some index could be shown,
'T were easier groping forward, truly.
MEPHISTOPHELES {aside).
I 'm tired enough of this dry tone, — Must play the Devil again, and fully.
{Aloud.) To grasp the spirit of Medicine is easy : Learn of the great and little world your fill. To let it go at last, so please ye, Just as God will !
In vain that through the realms of science you may drift; Each one learns only — just what learn he can : Yet he who grasps the Moment's gift, He is the proper man. Well-made you are, 't is not to be denied. The rest a bold address will win you ; If you but in yourself confide. At once confide all others in you.
SCENE IV. 8 1
To lead the women, learn the special feeling !
Their everlasting aches and groans,
In thousand tones, \
Have all one source, one mode of healing ;
And if your acts are half discreet,
You '11 always have them at your feet.
A title first must draw and interest them, > ^,
And show that yours all other arts exceeds ; --^xl
Then, as a greeting, you are free to touch and test them,
While, thus to do, for years another pleads.-V'
You press and count the pulse's dances.
And then, with burning sidelong glances.
You clasp the swelling hips, to see
If tightly laced her corsets be.
STUDENT.
That 's better, now ! The How and Where, one sees.
MEPHISTOPHELES. ^ ^
My worthy friend, gray are all theories, f^ ij And green alone Life's golden tree.
STUDENT.
I swear to you, 't is Hke a dream to me. Might I again presume, with trust unbounded, To hear your wisdom thoroughly expounded ?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Most willingly, to what extent I may.
STUDENT.
I cannot really go away :
Allow me that my album first I reach you, —
Grant me this favor, I beseech you !
4* F
82 FAUST.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Assuredly.
i^He writes, and returns the book.) STUDENT {reads).
Eritis sicut Deus, scientes bonum et malum. { Closes the book with reverence, and withdraws. ) MEPHISTOPHELES.
1 Follow the ancient text, and the snake thou wast ordered to trample ! With all thy likeness to God, thou 'It yet be a sorry example !
(Faust enters.)
FAUST.
^.-^Now, whither shall we go ?
J^ MEPHISTOPHELES.
^/ As best it pleases thee.
3^^ y' ^ The little world, and then the great, we '11 see.7° With what delight, what profit winning, Shalt thou sponge through the term beginning !
FAUST.
Yet with the flowing beard I wear, Both ease and grace will fail me there. The attempt, indeed, were a futile strife ; I never could learn the ways of life. I feel so small before others, and thence Should always find embarrassments.^^
MEPHISTOPHELES.
My friend, thou soon shalt lose all such misgiving : Be thou but self-possessed, thou hast the art of living!
SCENE JV. 83
/ FAUST.
How shall we leave the house, and start ? Where hast thou servant, coach and horses ?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
We '11 spread this cloak with proper art,
Then through the air direct our courses.
But only, on so bold a flight,
Be sure to have thy luggage light.
A Uttle burning air, which I shall soon prepare us,
Above the earth will nimbly bear us.
And, if we 're light, we '11 travel swift and clear :
I gratulate thee on thy new career ! ?»
84 FAUST.
V.
AUERBACH'S CELLARJ>L-L£tPZi€k^*~
Carousal of Jolly Companions.
FROSCH.
IS no one laughing ? no one drinking ? I '11 teach you how to grin, I 'm thinking. To-day you 're like wet straw, so tame ; , And usually you 're all aflame.
BRANDER.
Now that 's your fault ; from you we nothing see, No beastUness and no stupidity.
FROSCH. {Pours a glass of wine over Brander's head.)
There 's both together !
*
BRANDER.
Twice a swine !
FROSCH.
You wanted them : I 've given you mine.
SIEBEL.
Turn out who quarrels — out the door ! With open throat sing chorus, drink and roar ! Up! holla! ho!
SCENE V. 85
/
A^LTMAYER.
Woe 's me, the fearful bellow ! Bring cotton, quick ! He 's split my ears, that fellow.
SIEBEL.
When the vault echoes to the song,
One first perceives the. bass is deep and strong.
FROSCH.
Well said ! and out with him that takes the least offence ! Ah, tar a, lara, da /
ALTMAYER.
Ah, tar a, lara, da /
FROSCH.
The throats are tuned, commence ! {Sings.) The dear old holy Roman realm^ How does it hold together ?
BRANDER.
A nasty song ! Fie ! a political song 74 —
A most offensive song! Thank God, each morning,
therefore. That you have not the Roman realm to care for ! At least, I hold it so much gain for me, That I nor Chancellor nor Kaiser be. Yet also we must have a ruling head, I hope, And so we '11 choose ourselves a Pope. You know the quality that can Decide the choice, and elevate the man.
FROSCH {sings). Soar 7ip, soar up, Dame Nightingale /^s Ten thotisand times my sweetheart hail /
86 FAUST,
SIEBEL.
No, greet my sweetheart not ! I tell you, I '11 resent it.
FROSCH.
My sweetheart greet and kiss ! I dare you to prevent it ! {Sings.) Draw the latch ! the darkness makes : Draw the latch ! the lover wakes. Shut the latch / the 7norning breaks.
SIEBEL.
Yes, sing away, sing on, and praise, and brag of her !
I '11 wait my proper time for laughter :
Me by the nose she lead, and now she '11 lead you after.
Her paramour should be an ugly gnome.
Where four roads cross, in wanton play to meet her :
An old he-goat, from Blocksberg coming home,
Should his good-night in lustful gallop bleat her !
A fellow made of genuine flesh and blood
Is for the wench a deal too good.
t^reet her? Not I : unless, when meeting,
To smash her windows be a greeting !
BRANDER [pounding on the table). Attention ! Hearken now to me ! Confess, Sirs, I know how to live. Enamored persons here have we. And I, as suits their quality. Must something fresh for their advantage give. Take heed ! 'T is of the latest cut, my strain, And all strike in at each refrain !
{He sings.) There was a rat in the cellar-nest, ^^ Whom fat and butter made smoother :
SCENE V. 87
He had a paunch beneath his vest Like that of Doctor Luther. The cook laid poison cunningly, And then as sore oppressed was he As if he had love in his bosom.
CHORUS [shouting).
>^ 6 if he had love in his bosom !
BRANDER.
He ran around, he ran about,
His thirst in puddles laving ;
He gnawed and scratched the house throughout,
But nothing cured his raving.
He whirled and jumped, with torment mad,
And soon enough the poor beast had.
As if he had love in his bosom.
CHORUS.
As if he had love in his bosom !
BRANDER.
And driven at last, in open day.
He ran into the kitchen,
Fell on the hearth, and squirming lay,
In the last convulsion twitching.
Then laughed the murderess in her glee -
" Ha ! ha ! he 's at his last gasp," said she.
" As if he had love in his bosom ! "
CHORUS.
As if he had love in his bosom !
SIEBEL.
How the dull fools enjoy the matter '
To me it is a proper art
Poison for such poor rats to scatter.
88 fA UST.
BRANDER.
Perhaps you '11 warmly take their part ?
ALTMAYER.
The bald-pate pot-belly I have noted : Misfortune tames him by degrees ; for in the rat by poison bloated His own most natural form he sees.
Faust and Mephistopheles.
mephistopheles. Before all else, I bring thee hither Where boon companions meet together, To let thee see how smooth life runs away. Here, for the folk, each day 's a hoUday : With Httle wit, and ease to suit them, They whirl in narrow, circling trails, Like kittens playing with their tails ; And if no headache persecute them. So long the host may credit give. They merrily and careless live.
BRANDER.
The fact is easy to unravel,
Their air 's so odd, they 've just returned from travel :
A single hour they 've not been here.
FROSCH.
You 've verily hit the truth ! Leipzig to me is dear : Paris in miniature, how it refines its people .'77
SIEBEL.
Who are the strangers, should you guess ?
SCENE V. 89
FROSCH. Let me alone ! I '11 set them first to drinking, •
And then, as one a child's tooth draws, with cleverness, I '11 worm their secret out, I 'm thinking. They 're of a noble house, that 's very clear : Haughty and discontented they appear.
BRANDER.
They 're mountebanks, upon a revel.
ALTMAYER.
Perhaps.
FROSCH.
Look out, I '11 smoke them now !
MEPHISTOPHELES {fo FaUST).
Not if he had them by the neck, I vow, Would e'er these people scent the Devil !
FAUST.
Fair greeting, gentlemen !
SIEBEL.
Our thanks : we give the same. {Murmur Sy inspecfm^ Metkistotkeles from the side.) In one foot is the fellow lame ?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Is it permitted that we share your leisure ?
In place of cheering drink, which one seeks vainly here,
Your company shall give us pleasure.
ALTMAYER.
A most fastidious person you appear.
-^J^^'^JUi^-'^-''^
90 FA UST.
FROSCH.
N6 doubt 'twas late when you from Rippach started ??» And supping there with Hans occasioned your delay ?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
We passed, without a call, to-day. At our last interview, before we parted Much of his cousins did he speak, entreating That we should give to each his kindly greeting.
{.He bows to Frosch.) ALTMAYER [aside).
You have it now ! he understands.
SIEBEL.
A knave sharp-set !
FROSCH.
Just wait awhile : I '11 have him yet.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
If I am right, we heard the sound ^
Of well-trained voices, singing chorus ; / And truly, song must here rebound Superbly from the arches o'er us.
FROSCH.
Are you, perhaps, a virtuoso ?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
O no ! my wish is great, my power is only so-so.
ALTMAYER.
Give us a song !
I
/ y\y9'^''^-<^^^^ *^
/cJi-^A^.Jtyt/CX^^Q \
SCENE V. 91
MEPHISTOPHELES.
If you desire, a number.
SIEBEL.
So that it be a bran-new strain !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
We 've just retraced our way from Spain,
The lovely land of wine, and song, and slumber.
{Sings.)
There was a king once reigning,79 Who had a big black flea —
FROSCH.
Hear, hear ! A flea ! D' ye rightly take the jest ? I call a flea a tidy guest.
MEPHISTOPHELES {sings).
There was a king once reigning. Who had a big black flea, And loved him past explaining. As his own son were he. He called his man of stitches ; The tailor came straightway : Here, measure the lad for breeches, And measure his coat, I say !
BRANDER.
But mind, allow the tailor no caprices : Enjoin upon him, as his head is dear. To most exactly measure, sew and shear, So that the breeches have no creases !
92
FA UST.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
In silk and velvet gleaming
He now was wholly drest —
Had a coat with ribbons streaming,
A cross upon his breast.
He had the first of stations,
A minister's star and name ;
And also all his relations
Great lords at court became.
And the lords and ladies of honor Were plagued, awake and in bed ; The queen she got them upon her, The maids were bitten and bled. And they did not dare to brush then\ Or scratch them, day or night : We crack them and we crush them. At once, whene'er they bite.
CHORUS {shouting). We crack them and we crush them, At once, whene'er they bite !
FROSCH.
Bravo ! bravo ! that was fine.
SIEBEL.
Every flea may it so befall !
BRANDER.
Point your fingers and nip them all !
ALTMAYER.
Hurrah for Freedom ! Hurrah for wine !
SCENE V.
93
MEPHISTOPHELES.
I fain would drink with you, my glass to Freedom
clinking, If 't were a better wine that here I see you drinking.
SIEBEL.
Don't let us hear that speech again !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Did I not fear the landlord might complain, I 'd treat these worthy guests, with pleasure, To some from out our cellar's treasure.
SIEBEL.
Just treat, and let the landlord me arraign !
FROSCH.
And if the wine be good, our praises shall be ample.
But do not give too very small a sample ;
For, if its quality I decide.
With a good mouthful I must be supplied.
ALTMAYER {aside).
They 're from the Rhine .' I guessed as much, before.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Bring me a gimlet here !
BRANDER.
What shall therewith be done ? You 've not the casks already at the door ?
ALTMAYER.
Yonder, within the landlord's box of tools, there 's one!
94
FA UST.
MEPHISTOPHELES (takes the gimlet). (r^FROSCH.) Now, give me of your taste some intimation.
FROSCH.
How do you mean ? Have you so many kinds ?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
The choice is free : make up your minds.
ALTMAYER {to FROSCH).
Aha ! you lick your chops, from sheer anticipation.
FROSCH.
Good! if I have the choice, so let the wine be
Rhenish ! Our Fatherland can best the sparkling cup replenish.
MEPHISTOPHELES
{poring a hole in the edge of the table, at the place where Frosch sits).
Get me a little wax, to make the stoppers, quick !
ALTMAYER.
Ah ! I perceive a juggler's trick.
MEPHISTOPHELES {to BrANDER).
And you ?
BRANDER.
Champagne shall be my wine, And let it sparkle fresh and fine !
SCENE V. 95
MEPHISTOPHELES
(bores : in the mean time one has made the wax stoppers, and plugged the holes with them).
BRANDER.
What 's foreign one can't always keep quite clear of, For good things, oft, are not so near ; A German can't endure the French to see or hear of,^ Yet drinks their wines with hearty cheer.
SIEBEL {as MEPHISTOPHELES approaches his seat). For me, I grant, sour wine is out of place ; Fill up my glass with sweetest, will you ?
MEPHISTOPHELES {poring),.
Tokay shall flow at once, to fill you !
ALTMAYER.
No — look me. Sirs, straight in the face ! I see you have your fun at our expense.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
O no ! with gentlemen of such pretence. That were to venture far, indeed. Speak out, and make your choice with speed ! With what a vintage can I serve you ?
ALTMAYER.
With any — only satisfy our need.
{After the holes have been bored and plugged )
MEPHISTOPHELES {with singular gestures). Grapes the vine-stem bears, Horns the he-goat wears !
96 FA UST.
The grapes are juicy, the vines are wood, The wooden table gives wine as good ! Into the depths of Nature peer, — Only believe, there 's a miracle here !
Now draw the stoppers, and drink your fill ! «'
ALL
las they draw out the stoppers, and the wine which has been desired flows into the glass of each). O beautiful fountain, that flows at will !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
But have a care, that you nothing spill I « ( They drink repeatedly.)
ALL {sing).
As 't were five hundred hogs, we feel So cannibalic jolly !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
See, now, the race is happy — it is free !
FAUST.
To leave them is my inclination.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Take notice, first ! their bestiality Will make a brilliant demonstration.
^
SIEBEL [drinks carelessly : the wine spills upon the earth, and turns to flame). Help ! Fire ! Help ! Hell-fire is sent !
,1
f"
SCENE V. 97
MEPHISTOPHELES {charming away the flame). Be quiet, friendly element !
( To the revellers. ) A bit of purgatory 't was for this time, merely.
SIEBEL.
What mean you ? Wait ! — you '11 pay for 't dearly ! You '11 know us, to your detriment.
FROSCH.
Don't try that game a second time upon us !
ALTMAYER.
I think we 'd better send him packing quietly.
SIEBEL.
What, Sir ! you dare to make so free. And play your hocus-pocus on us !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Be still, old wine-tub.
SIEBEL.
Broomstick, you ! You face it out, impertinent and heady ?
BRANDER.
Just wait ! a shower of blows is ready.
ALTMAYER {draws a stopper out of the table: fire flies in his face), I burn ! I bum !
SIEBEL.
'T is magic ! Strike — The knave is outlawed ! Cut him as you like ! ( They draw their knives, and rush upon MEPHISTOPHELES.) VOL. L 5 G
98 J^A UST.
MEPHISTOPHELES {with solemn gestures). False word and form of air, Change place, and sense ensnare ! ^^ Be here — and there ! ( They stand amazed and look at each other.)
ALTMAYER.
Where a:m I ? What a lovely land !
FROSCH.
Vines ? Can I trust my eyes ?
SIEBEL.
And purple grapes at hand !
BRANDER.
Here, over this green arbor bending, See, what a vine ! what grapes depending !
{He takes SlEBEL by the nose : the others do the same recipro- cally, and raise their knives.)
MEPHISTOPHELES {as abffve). Loose, Error, from their eyes the band, And how the Devil jests, be now enlightened !.
(He disappears with Faust : the revellers start and separate. )
SIEBEL. What happened ?
ALTMAYER.
How?
FROSCH.
Was that your nose I tightened ?
99
SCENE V.
BRANDER {to SlEBEL).
And yours that still I have in hand ?
ALTMAYER.
It was a blow that went through every limb ! Give me a chair ! I sink ! my senses swim.
FROSCH.
But what has happened, tell me now ?
SIEBEL.
Where is he ? If I catch the scoundrel hiding, He shall not leave ahve, I vow.
ALTMAYER.
I saw him with these eyes upon a wine-cask riding
Out of the cellar-door, just now.
Still in my feet the fright hke lead is weighing.
{He turns towards the table.)
Why ! If the fount of wine should still be playing ?
SIEBEL.
'T was all deceit, and lying, false design !
FROSCH.
And yet it seemed as I were drinking wine.
BRANDER.
But with the grapes how was it, pray ?
ALTMAYER.
Shall one beheve no miracles, just say !
lOO FAUST,
VI.
WITCHES' KITCHEN.83
\Upon a low hearth stands a great caldron, under which afire is burning. Various figures appear in the vapors which rise fir om the caldron. An ape sits beside it, skims it, ajid watches lest it boil over. The he-ape, with the young ones, sits fiear and warms himselfi. Ceiling and walls are covered with the most fantastic witch-implements. \
T
Faust. Mephistopheles.
FAUST.
HESE crazy signs of witches' craft repel me !
I shall recover, dost thou tell me, Through this insane, chaotic play? From an old hag shall I demand assistance ? And will her foul mess take away Full thirty years from my existence ? ^^ Woe 's me, canst thou naught better find ! Another baffled hope must be lamented : Has Nature, then, and has a noble mind Not any potent balsam yet invented ?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Once more, my friend, thou talkest sensibly.
There is, to make thee young, a simpler mode and apter;
But in another book 't is writ for thee,
And is a most eccentric chapter.
FAUST.
Yet will I know it.
I
SCENE VI. ^_ 103.
THE HE-APE {comes up and fawns on MephistophelES). '^^ O cast thou the dice !
Beta- Make me rich in a trice,
There ,. Let me win in good season !
Restrain tii^ Things are badly controlled, Within a narrow x had I but gold, With unmixed fooa^ j ^y reason. Live with the ox as o.. That thou manur'st the acre ^heles. That, trust me, is the best mou^ ^jg luck enhances, Whereby for eighty years thy jy^g chances !
FAUST, have been playing with a I am not used to that ; I cannotf-' roll forward.) To take the spade in hand, and p The narrow being suits me not at^n.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Then to thine aid the witch must call.
FAUST.
Wherefore the hag, and her alone ? Canst thou thyself not brew the potion ?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
That were a charming sport, I own :
I 'd build a thousand bridges meanwhile, I 've a notion.
Not Art and Science serve, alone ;
Patience must in the work be shown.
Long is the calm brain active in creation ;
Time, only, strengthens the fine fermentation.
And all, belonging thereunto.
Is rare and strange, howe'er you take it •.
The Devil taught the thing, 't is true,
And vet the Devil cannot make it.
loo FAUST.
VI.
WITCHES' KITCHEN ^'
[Upon a low hearth stands a great cald" is burning. Various figures af^ rise from the caldron, y^amney out ! watches lest it boil over, sits near and warms >^miISTOPHELES. with the most fantastic it ^g for dissipating ?
T
Faust, ^e animals.
m our paws are waiting. H^ —
MEPHISTOPHELES {to FaUST).
Xh How findest thou the tender creatures ? F
FAUST.
Absurder than I ever yet did see. \
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Why, just such talk as this, for me,
Is that which has the most attractive features !
{To the Animals.) But tell me now, ye cursed puppets, Why do ye stir the porridge so ?
THE ANIMALS.
We 're cooking watery soup for beggars.'s
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Then a great public you can show.
SCENE VI. ^__ lo^
THE HE-APE {comes up and fawns on MephistophelES). O cast thou the dice ! Make me rich in a trice, Let me win in good season ! Things are badly controlled, And had I but gold, So had I my reason.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
How would the ape be sure his luck enhances, Could he but try the lottery's chances !
{In the mean time the young apes have beeji playing with a large ball, which they now roll forward.)
THE HE-APE.
The world 's the ball : Doth rise and fall. And roll incessant : Like glass doth ring, A hollow thing, — How soon will 't spring. And drop, quiescent ? Here bright it gleams. Here brighter seems : I live at present ! Dear son, I say. Keep thou away ! Thy doom is spoken ! 'T is made of clay. And will be broken.
11
MEPHISTOPHELES.
What means the sieve ?
104 FAUST.
THE \IE- AVE {taking it down).
Wert thou the thief,^
I 'd know him and shame him.
(He runs to the She- Ape, and lets her look through it.)
Look through the sieve ! Know'st thou the thief, And darest not name him ?
MEPHISTOPHELES {approaching the fire). And what 's this pot ?
HE-APE AND SHE-APE.
The fool knows it not ! He knows not the pot, He knows not the kettle !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Impertinent beast !
THE HE-APE.
Take the brush here, at least, And sit down on the settle ! {He invites MEPHISTOPHELES to sit down.)
FAUST {who during all this time has been standing before a mirror , now
approaching and now retreating from it). What do I see ? What heavenly form revealed ^7 Shows through the glass from Magic's fair dominions ! O lend me, Love, the swiftest of thy pinions, And bear me to her beauteous field ! Ah, if I leave this spot with fond designing. If I attempt to venture near. Dim, as through gathering mist, her charms appear ! —
SCENE VI. 105
A woman's form, in beauty shining ! Can woman, then, so lovely be ? And must I find her body, there reclining, Of all the heavens the bright epitome ? Can Earth with such a thing be mated ?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Why, surely, if a God first plagues Himself six days, Then, self-contented. Bravo / says. Must something clever be created. This time, thine eyes be satiate ! I '11 yet detect thy sweetheart and ensnare her, And blest is he, who has the lucky fate, Some day, as bridegroom, home to bear her. (Faust gazes continually in the mirror. Mephistopheles, stretching himself out on the settle, and playing with the brush, continues to speak.)
So sit I, like the King upon his throne : I hold the sceptre, here, — and lack the crown alone.
THE ANIMALS
(who up to this time have been making all kinds of fantastic movements together, bring a crown to MEPHISTOPHELES with great noise) .
O be thou so good With sweat and with blood The crown to belime ! {Thiy handle the crown awkwardly and break it into two pieces, with which they spring around. )
'T is done, let it be ! We speak and we see. We hear and we rhyme ! ^
FAUST {before the mirror). Woe 's me ! I fear to lose my wits.
5*
lo6 FAUST.
MEPHISTOPHELES {pointing to the Animals). My own head, now, is really nigh to sinking.
THE ANIMALS.
If lucky our hits,
And everything fits,
'T is thoughts, and we 're thinking !
FAUST [as above). My bosom burns with that sweet vision ; Let us, with speed, away from here !
MEPHISTOPHELES [in the same attitude). One must, at least, make this admission — They 're poets, genuine and sincere.
( The caldron^ which the She-Ape has up to this time neglected to watch ^ begins to boil over : there ensues a great flame y which blazes out the chimney. The WiTCH comes careering down through the flame, with terrible cries.)
THE WITCH.
Ow ! ow ! ow ! ow ! The damned beast — the cursed sow ! To leave the kettle, and singe the Frau ! Accursed fere !
{Perceiving Faust and Mephistopheles. ) ^ What is that here ?
/ Who are you here ?
What want you thus ? Who sneaks to us .-^ The fire-pain Burn bone and brain ! \S he plunges the skimming- ladle into the caldron, and scatters flames towards Faust, Mephistopheles, and the Ani- mals. The Animals whimper.)
SCENE VI. 107
MEPHISTOPHELES
[reversing the brushy which he has been holding in his handt
and striking among the jars and glasses).
In two ! in two !
There lies the brew !
There lies the glass !
The joke will pass,
As time, foul ass !
To the singing of thy crew.
{As the Witch starts back^full of wrath and horror ;)
Ha ! know'st thou me ? Abomination, thou ! Know'st thou, at last, thy Lord and Master? What hinders me from smiting now Thee and thy monkey-sprites with fell disaster? Hast for the scarlet coat no reverence ? Dost recognize no more the tall cock's-feather ? Have I -concealed this countenance ? — Must tell my name, old face of leather ?
THE WITCH.
O pardon. Sir, the rough salute !
Yet I perceive no cloven foot ;
And both your ravens, where are they now ?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
This time, I '11 let thee 'scape the debt ;
For since we two together met,
T is verily full many a day now.
Culture, which smooth the whole world licks,
Also unto the Devil sticks.
The days of that old Northern phantom now are over :
Where canst thou horns and tail and claws discover ?
And, as regards the foot, which I can't spare, in truth,
'T would only make the people shun me ;
io8 FAUST.
Therefore I 've worn, like many a spindly youth, False calves these many years upon me.
THE WITCH {^dancing). Reason and sense forsake my brain, Since I behold Squire Satan here again !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Woman, from such a name refrain !
THE WITCH.
Why so"? What has it done to thee ?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
It 's long been written in the Book of Fable ; ^ Yet, therefore, no whit better men we see : The Evil One has left, the evil ones are stable. Sir Baron call me thou, then is the matter good ; A cavalier am I, like others in my bearing. ' Thou hast no doubt about my noble blood : See, here 's the coat-of-arms that I am wearing !
{He makes an indecent gesture.)
THE WITCH [laughs immoderately). Ha ! ha ! That 's just your way, I know : A rogue you are, and you were always so.
MEPHISTOPHELES \to FaUST).
My friend, take proper heed, I pray ! To manage witches, this is just the way.
THE WITCH.
Wherein, Sirs, can I be of use ?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Give us a goblet of the well-known juice !
SCENE VI . 109
But, I must beg you, of the oldest brewage ; The years a double strength produce.
THE WITCH.
With all my heart ! Now, here 's a bottle, Wherefrom, sometimes, I wet my throttle, Which, also, not the slightest, stinks ; And willingly a glass I '11 fill him.
{Whispering.) Yet, if this man without due preparation drinks, As well thou know'st, within an hour 't will kill him.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
He is a friend of mine, with whom it will agree, And he deserves thy kitchen's best potation : Come, draw thy circle, speak thine adjuration, And fill thy goblet full and free !
THE WITCH \^ith fantastic gestures draws a circle and places mysterious ar- ticles therein ; meanwhile the glasses begin to ring, the caldron to sound, and make a musical accompaniment. Finally she brings a great book, and stations in the circle the Apes, who are obliged to serve as reading-desk, and to hold the torches. She then beckons Faust to approach).
FAUST {to MEPHISTOPHELES).
Now, what shall come of this ? the creatures antic, The crazy stuff, the gestures frantic, — All the repulsive cheats I view, — Are known to me, and hated, too.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
O, nonsense ! That 's a thing for laughter ; Don't be so terribly severe !
no FAUST.
She juggles you as doctor now, that, after, The beverage may work the proper cheer.
{He persuades Faust to step into the circle.)
THE WITCH {begins to declaim, with much emphasis, from the book). ' See, thus it 's done ! Make ten of one. And two let be, Make even three, And rich thou 'It be. Cast o'er the four ! From five and six (The witch's tricks) Make seven and eight, 'T is finished straight ! And nine is one. And ten is none. This is the witch's once-one's-one ! ^
FA4JST.
She talks like one who raves in fever. /
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Thou 'It hear much more before we leave her.
'T is all the same : the book I can repeat.
Such time I 've squandered o'er the history :
A contradiction thus complete 9"
Is always for the wise, no less than fools, a mystery.
The art is old and new, for verily
All ages have been taught the matter, —
By Three and One, and One and Three,
Error instead of Truth to scatter.
They prate and teach, and no one interferes ;
All from the fellowship of fools are shrinking.
SCENE VI. Ill
Man usually believes, if only words he hears, That also with them goes material for thinking !
THE WITCH {continues). The lofty skill Of Science, still From all men deeply hidden ! Who takes no thought, To him 't is brought, 'T is given unsought, unbidden !
FAUST.
What nonsense she declaims before us !
My head is nigh to split, I fear :
It seems to me as if I hear
A hundred thousand fools in chorus.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
O Sibyl excellent, enough of adjuration !
But hither bring us thy potation.
And quickly fill the beaker to the brim !
This drink will bring my friend no injuries :
He is a man of manifold degrees.
And many draughts are known to him.
\The Witch, with many ceremonies, pours the drink into a cup ; as Faust sets it to his lips, a light Jiame arises.)
Down with it quickly ! Drain it off ! 'T will warm thy heart with new desire : Art with the Devil hand and glove. And wilt thou be afraid of fire }
{The Witch breaks the circle: Faust steps forth.) MEPHISTOPHELES.
And now, away ! Thou dar'st not rest.
112 FAUST.
THE WITCH.
And much good may the liquor do thee !
MEPHISTOPHELES {to the WitCH).
Thy wish be on Walpurgis Night expressed ; What boon I have, shall then be given unto thee.
THE WITCH.
Here is a song, which, if you sometimes sing, You '11 find it of peculiar operation.
MEPHISTOPHELES [to FaUST).
Come, walk at once ! A rapid occupation
Must start the needful perspiration,
And through thy frame the liquor's potence fling.
The noble indolence I '11 teach thee then to treasure,^^
And soon thou 'It be aware, with keenest thrills of pleasure,
How Cupid stirs and leaps, on light and restless wing.
FAUST.
• One rapid glance within the mirror give me, How beautiful that woman-form !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Jsfo, no ! The paragon of all, beheve me, Thou soon shalt see, aHve and warm.
{Aside.) Thou 'It find, this drink thy blood compelling, Each woman beautiful as Helen 1
SCENE VI I. 113
VII .
A STREET. Faust. Margaret (tassins^ by).
FAUST.
FAIR lady, let it not offend you, That arm and escort I would lend you !
MARGARET.93
I 'm neither lady, neither fair,
And home I can go without your care.
\She releases herself, and exit
FAUST. By Heaven, the girl is wondrous fair ! Of all I 've seen, beyond compare ; So sweetly virtuous and pure. And yet a little pert, be sure ! The lip so red, the cheek's clear dawn, I '11 not forget while the world rolls on ! How she cast down her timid eyes. Deep in my heart imprinted lies : How short and sharp of speech was she,^* Why, 't was a real ecstasy !
(Mephistopheles enters:)
FAUST.
Hear, of that girl I 'd have possession !
H
114
FAUST. MEPHISTOPHELES.
Which, then ?
FAUST.
The one who just went by.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
She, there ? She 's coming from confession,
Of every sin absolved; for I,
Behind her chair, was Hstening nigh.
So innocent is she, indeed,
That to confess she had no need.
I have no power o'er souls so green.
FAUST.
And yet, she 's older than fourteen.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
How now ! You 're talking like Jack Rake, Who every flower for himself would take. And fancies there are no favors more, Nor honors, save for him in store ; Yet always does n't the thing succeed.
FAUST.
Most Worthy Pedagogue, take heed ! 9S Let not a word of moral law be spoken ! I claim, I tell thee, all my right ; And if that image of delight" Rest not within mine arms to-night, At midnight is our compact broken.
MEPHISTOPLELES.
But think, the chances of the case ! I need, at least, a fortnight's space, To find an opportune occasion.
SCENE VII. 115
FAUST.
Had I but seven hours for all, I should not on the Devil call, But win her by my own persuasion.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
You almost like a Frenchman prate ; Yet, pray, don't take it as annoyance ! Why, all at once, exhaust the joyance ? Your bliss is by no means so great As if you 'd use, to get control. All sorts of tender rigmarole. And knead and shape her to your thought, As in Italian tales 't is taught.^^
FAUST.
Without that, I have appetite.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
But now, leave jesting out of sight ! I tell you, once for all, that speed With this fair girl will not succeed ; By storm she cannot captured be ; We must make use of strategy. -¥c'
FAUST.
Get me something the angel keeps ! Lead me thither where she sleeps ! Get me a kerchief from her breast, — A garter that her knee has pressed !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
That you may see how much I 'd fain
Further and satisfy your pain.
We will no longer lose a minute ;
I '11 find her room to-day, and take you in it.
Il6 FAUST.
FAUST.
And shall I see — possess her ?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
No! Unto a neighbor she must go, And meanwhile thou, alone, mayst glow With every hope of future pleasure, Breathing her atmosphere in fullest measure.
FAUST.
Can we go thither ?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
'T is too early yet.
FAUST.
A gift for her I bid thee get !
{^Exit.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Presents at once ? That 's ,^ood : he 's certain \f-' get at
her!
Full many a pleasant place I know,
And treasures, buried long ago :
I must, perforce, look up the matter^
\Exit.
SCENE VIII. 117
VIII.
EVENING.
A Small, neatly kept Chamber.
(plaiting and binding up the braids of her hair).
I'D something give, could I but say Who was that gentleman, to-day. Surely a gallant man was he, And of a noble family ; So much could I in his face behold, — And he would n't, else, have been so bold !
Mephistopheles. Faust.
mephistopheles . Come in, but gently : follow me !
FAUST {after a moment's silence). Leave me alone, I beg of thee !
MEPHISTOPHELES {prying about). Not every girl keeps things so neat.
FAUST {looking around) . O welcome, twilight soft and sweet,97 That breathes throughout this hallowed shrine ! Sweet pain of love, bind thou with fetters fleet The heart that on the dew of hope must pine !
[Exit.
Il8 FAUST.
How all around a sense impresses
Of quiet, order, and content !
This poverty what bounty blesses !
What bliss within this narrow den is pent !
{He throws himself into a leathern arm-chair near the bed.)
Receive me, thou, that in thine open arms
Departed joy and pain wert wont to gather !
How oft the children, with their ruddy charms.
Hung here, around this throne, where sat the father !
Perchance my love, amid the childish band.
Grateful for gifts the l^oly Christmas gave her.
Here meekly kissed the grandsire's withered hand.
I feel, O maid ! thy very soul
Of order and content around me whisper, —
Which leads thee with its motherly control.
The cloth upon thy board bids smoothly thee unroll,
The sand beneath thy feet makes whiter, crisper.
O dearest hand, to thee 't is given
To change this hut into a lower heaven !
And here !
{ffe lifts one of the bed-curtains.)
What sweetest thrill is in my blood ! Here could I spend whole hours, delaying : Here Nature shaped, as if in sportive playing, The angel blossom from the bud.
Here lay the child, with Life's warm essence
The tender bosom filled and fair.
And here was wrought, through holier, purer presence.
The form diviner beings wear !
And I ? What drew me here with power ? How deeply am I moved, this hour !
SCENE VI I L 119
What seek I ? Why so full my heart, and sore ? Miserable Faust ! I know thee now no more.
Is there a magic vapor here ?
I came, with lust of instant pleasure.
And lie dissolved in dreams of love's sweet leisure !
Are we the sport of every changeful atmosphere ?
And if, this moment, came she in to me. How would I for the fault atonement render ! How small the giant lout would be. Prone at her feet, relaxed and tender I
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Be quick! I see her there, returning.
FAUST.
Go ! go ! I never will retreat.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Here is a casket, not unmeet.
Which elsewhere I have just been earning.
Here, set it in the press, with haste !
I swear, 't will turn her head, to spy it :
Some baubles I therein had placed.
That you might win another by it.
True, child is child, and play is play.
FAUST.
I know not, should I do it.?^^
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Ask you, pray ? Yourself, perhaps, would keep the bubble ? Then I suggest, 't were fair and just
I20 FAUST.
To spare the lovely day your lust, And spare to me the further trouble. You are not miserly, I trust ? I rub my hands, in expectation tender —
{He places the casket in the press , and locks it again.')
Now quick, away !
The sweet young maiden to betray.
So that by wish and will you bend her ;
And you look as though
To the lecture-hall you were forced to go, — •
As if stood before you, gray and loath,
Physics and Metaphysics both !
But away !
\Exeunt
MARGARET {with a lamp). V It is so close, so sultry, here !
[She opens the window.)
And yet 't is not so warm outside. I feel, I know not why, such fear ! — Would mother came ! — where can she bide ? My body 's chill and shuddering, — I 'm but a silly, fearsome thing !
{She begins to sing, while undressing.)
There was a King in Thule,'' Was faithful till the grave, — To whom his mistress, dying, A golden goblet gave.
Naught was to him more precious ; He drained it at every bout ; His eyes with tears ran over, As oft as he drank thereout.
SCENE VIII. 121
When came his time of dying, The towns in his land he told, Naught else to his heir denying Except the goblet of gold.
He sat at the royal banquet With his knights of high degree, In the lofty hall of his fathers In the Castle by the Sea.
There stood the old carouser, And drank the last life-glow •, And hurled the hallowed goblet Into the tide below.
He saw it plunging and filling, And sinking deep in the sea : Then fell his eyelids forever. And never more drank he !
\She opens the press in order to arrange her clothes^ and per- / ceives the casket of jewels. )
How comes that lovely casket here to me ?
I locked the press, most certainly.
'T is truly wonderful ! What can within it be ?
Perhaps 't was brought by some one as a pawn,
And mother gave a loan thereon ?
And here there hangs a key to fit:
I have a mind to open it.
What is that ? God in Heaven ! Whence came
Such things? Never beheld I aught so fair!
Rich ornaments, such as a noble dame
On highest holidays might wear !
How would the pearl-chain suit my hair ?
Ah, who may all this splendor own?
VOL. I. 6
122 FAUST.
(She adorns herself with the jewelry, and steps before the mirror.)
Were but the ear-rings mine, alone !
One has at once another air.
What helps one's beauty, youthful blood?
One may possess them, well and good ;
But none the more do others care.
They praise us half in pil;y, sure :
To gold still tends,
On gold depends
All, all ! Alas, we poor 1
SCENE IX,
123
IX.
PROMENADE.
(Faust, walking thoughtfully up and dawn. To him Mephis-
TOPHELES.) MEPHISTOPHELES.
BY all love ever rejected ! By hell-fire hot and un- sparing ! I wish I knew something worse, that I might use it for swearing !
FAUST.
What ails thee ? What is 't gripes thee, elf ? A face like thine beheld I never.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
I would myself unto the Devil deliver, If I were not 'k Deyil myself !
FAUST.
Thy head is out of order, sadly :
It much becomes thee to be raving madly.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Just think, the pocket of a priest should get
The trinkets left for Margaret !
The mother saw them, and, instanter,
A secret dread began to haunt her.
Keen scent has she for tainted air;
She snuffs within her book of prayer,
124
FAUST.
And smells each article, to see
If sacred or profane it be ;
So here she guessed, from every gem.
That not much blessing came with them.
" My child," she said, " ill-gotten good
Ensnares the soul, consumes the blood.
Before the Mother of God we '11 lay it ;
With heavenly manna she '11 repay it ! "^°°
But Margaret thought, with sour grimace,
" A gift-horse is not out of place,
And, truly ! godless cannot be
The one who brought such things to me."
A parson came, by the mother bidden :
He saw, at once, where the game was hidden,
And viewed it with a favor stealthy.
He spake : " That is the proper view, —
Who overcometh, winneth too.
The Holy Church has a stomach healthy :
Hath eaten many a land as forfeit,
And never yet complained of surfeit :
The Church alone, beyond all question.
Has for ill-gotten goods the right digestion."
FAUST.
A general practice is the same. Which Jew and King may also claim.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Then bagged the spangles, chains, and rings,
As if but toadstools were the things.
And thanked no less, and thanked no more
Than if a sack of nuts he bore, —
Promised them fullest heavenly pay.
And deeply edified were they.
And Margaret ?
SCENE IX,
FAUST.
125
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Sits unrestful still, And knows not what she should, or will ; Thinks on the jewels, day and night, But more on him who gave her such delight
FAUST.
The darling's sorrow gives me pain. <i>
Get thou a set for her again ! The first was not a great display.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
O yes, the gentleman finds it all child's-play !
FAUST.
Fix and arrange it to my will ; And on her neighbor try thy skill ! Don't be a Devil stiff as paste, But get fresh jewels to her taste !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Yes, gracious Sir, in all obedience !
{Exit Faust. Such an enamored fool in air would blow Sun, moon, and all the starry legions. To give his sweetheart a diverting show.
{Exit
126 FAUST.
THE NEIGHBOR'S HOUSE.^"
MARTHA {solus).
GOD forgive my husband, yet he Has n't done his duty by me ! Off in the world he went straightway, — Left me He in the straw where I lay, And, truly, I did naught to fret him : God knows I loved, and can't forget him !
{She weeps.) Perhaps he 's even dead ! Ah, woe ! — Had I a certificate to show !
MARGARET {comes).
Dame Martha !
MARTHA.
Margaret ! what 's happened thee ?
MARGARET.
I scarce can stand, my knees are trembling ! I find a box, the first resembling. Within my press ! Of ebony, — And things, all splendid to behold, And richer far than were the old.
MARTHA.
You must n't tell it to your mother !
'T would go to the priest, as did the other.
SCENE X. 127
MARGARET.
Ah, look and see — just look an(i see !
MARTHA (adormng her). O, what a blessed luck for thee !
MARGARET.
But, ah ! in the streets I dare not bear them. Nor in the church be seen to wear them,
MARTHA.
Yet thou canst often this way wander.
And secretly the jewels don,
Walk up and down an hour, before the mirror yonder, —
We '11 have our private joy thereon.
And then a chance will come, a holiday,
When, piece by piece, can one the things abroad display,
A chain at first, then other ornament :
Thy mother will not see, and stories we '11 invent.
MARGARET.
Whoever could have brought me things so precious "i That something 's wrong, I feel suspicious.
{A knock,)
Good Heaven ! My mother can that have been ?
MARTHA {peeping through the blind), 'T is some strange gentleman. — Come in !
(Mephistopheles enters.)
MEPHISTOPHELES.
That I so boldly introduce me, I beg you, ladies, to excuse me.
128 FAUST.
{Steps back reverently, on seeing Margaret.) For Martha Schwerdtlein I 'd inquire !
MARTHA.
I 'm she : what does the gentleman desire ? MEPHISTOPHELES (aside to her).
V
It is enough that you are she : You 've a visitor of high degree. Pardon the freedom I have ta'en, — Will after noon return again.
MARTHA [aloud).
Of all things in the world ! Just hear — He takes thee for a lady, dear !
MARGARET.
I am a creature young and poor : The gentleman 's too kind, I 'm sure. The jewels don't belong to me.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Ah, not alone the jewelry !
The look, the manner, both betray —
Rejoiced am I that I may stay !
MARTHA.
What is your business ? I would fain —
MEPHISTOPHELES.
I would I had a more cheerful strain !
Take not unkindly its repeating :
Your husband 's dead, and sends a greeting.
SCENE X, 129
MARTHA.
Is dead ? Alas, that heart so true ! My husband dead ! Let me die, too I
MARGARET.
Ah, dearest dame, let not your courage fail !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Hear me relate the mournful tale !
MARGARET.
Therefore I 'd never love, believe me ! A loss like this to death would grieve me.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Joy follows woe, woe after joy comes flying.
MARTHA.
Relate his life's sad close to me !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
In Padua buried, he is lying Beside the good Saint Antony, '°* Within a grave well consecrated. For cool, eternal rest created.
MARTHA.
He gave you, further, no commission ?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Yes, one of weight, with many sighs :
Three hundred masses buy, to save him from perdition 1
My hands are empty, otherwise.
6* I
130
FAUST.
MARTHA.
"^ What ! Not a pocket-piece ? no jewelry ?
What every journeyman within his wallet spares,
And as a token with him bears,
And rather starves or begs, than loses ?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Madam, it is a grief to me ;
Yet, on my word, his cash was put to proper uses.
Besides, his penitence was very sore,
And he lamented his ill fortune all the more.
MARGARET.
Alack, that men are so unfortunate !
Surely for his soul's sake full many a prayer I '11 proffer.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
You well deserve a speedy marriage-offer : You are so kind, compassionate.
MARGARET.
O, no ! As yet, it would not do.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
If not a husband, then a beau for you !
It is the greatest heavenly blessing,
To have a dear thing for one's caressing.
MARGARET.
The country's custom is not so.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Custom, or not ! It happens, though.
SCENE X. 131
MARTHA.
Continue, pray !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
I Stood beside his bed of dying. 'T was something better than manure, — Half-rotten straw : and yet, he died a Christian, sure, And found that heavier scores to his account were lying. He cried : " I find my conduct wholly hateful ! To leave my wife, my trade, in manner so ungrateful ! Ah, the remembrance makes me die ! Would of my wrong to her I might be shriven ! "
MARTHA {weeping). The dear, good man ! Long since was he forgiven.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
"Yet she, God knows ! was more to blame than I."
MARTHA.
He lied ! What ! On the brink of death he slandered?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
In the last throes his senses wandered.
If I such things but half can judge.
He said : "I had no time for play, for gaping freedom:
First children, and then work for bread to feed 'em, —
For bread, in the widest sense, to drudge,
And could not even eat my share in peace and quiet ! "
MARTHA.
Had he all love, all faith forgotten in his riot ? My work and worry, day and night .?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Not SO : the memory of it touched him quite. • Said he : " When I from Malta went away
132
FA UST.
My prayers for wife and little ones were zealous,
And such a luck from Heaven befell us,
We made a Turkish merchantman our prey,
That to the Soldan bore a mighty treasure.
Then I received, as was most fit,
Since bravery was paid in fullest measure,
My well-apportioned share of it."
MARTHA.
Say, how? Say, where.'* If buried, did he own lO.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Who knows, now, whither the four winds have blown it? A fair young damsel took him in her care. As he in Naples wandered round, unfriended ; And she much love, much faith to him did bear, So that he felt it till his days were ended.
MARTHA.
The villain ! From his children thieving !
Even all the misery on him cast
Could not prevent his shameful way of living !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
But see ! He 's dead therefrom, at last.
Were I in your place, do not doubt me,
I 'd mourn him decently a year.
And for another keep, meanwhile, my eyes about me.
MARTHA.
Ah, God ! another one so dear
As was my first, this world will hardly give me.
There never was a sweeter fool than mine.
Only he loved to roam and leave me.
And foreign wenches and foreign wine.
And the damned throw of dice, indeed.
SCENE X. 133
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Well, well ! That might have done, however,
If he had only been as clever,
And treated j|/^«r slips with as little heed.
1 swear, with this condition, too,
I would, myself, change rings with you.
MARTHA.
The gentleman is pleased to jest. ^ •
MEPHISTOPHELES {aside).
I '11 cut away, betimes, from here :
She 'd take the Devil at his word, I fear.
( To Margaret. ) How fares the heart within your breast ?
MARGARET.
What means the gentleman ?
MEPHISTOPHELES {aside).
Sweet innocent, thou art !
{Aloud.) Ladies, farewell !
MARGARET.
Farewell !
MARTHA.
A moment, ere we part ! I 'd like to have a legal witness. Where, how, and when he died, to certify with fitness. Irregular ways I 've always hated ; I want his death in the weekly paper stated. '°3
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Yes, my good dame, a pair of witnesses Always the truth establishes.
134
FAUST.
I have a friend of high condition, Who '11 also add his deposition. I '11 bring him here.
MARTHA.
4^' Good Sir, pray do !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
And this young lady will be present, too ? A gallant youth ! has travelled far : Ladies with him delighted are.
MARGARET.
Before him I should blush, ashamed.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Before no king that could be named !
MARTHA.
Behind the house, in my garden, then, This eve we '11 expect the gentlemen.
H
SCENE XL . f .. .13c
XI. STREET. ' Faust. Mephistopheles.
FAUST.
O W is it ? under way ? and soon complete .'*
MEPHIStt)PHELES.
Ah, bravo ! Do I find you^burning ?
Well, Margaret soon will still your yearning :
At Neighbor Martha's you '11 this evening meet.
A fitter woman ne'er was made
To ply the pimp and gypsy trade !
FAUST. .
'T is well. '^
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Yet something is required from us.
FAUST.
; ^X^ne service pays the ot^ljei^hus.
MEaPHISTOPHELES.
We 've but to make a deposition valid
That now her husband's limbs, outstretched and pallid,
At Padua rest, in consecrated soil.
FAUST.
Most wise ! And first, of course, we '11 make the jour- ney thither ?
/
136 FAUST.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Sancta simplicitas / no need of such a toil ; Depose, with knowledge or without it, either !
FAUST.
If you 've naught better, then, I '11 tear your pretty plan !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Now, there your are ! O holy man !
Is it the first time in your life you 're driven
To bear false witness in a case ?
Of God, the world and all that in it has a place.
Of Man, and all that moves the being of his race,
Have you not terms and definitions given
With brazen forehead, daring breast ?
And, if you '11 probe the thing profoundly,
Knew you so much — and you '11 confess it roundly ! —
As here of Schwerdtlein's death and place of rest ?
FAUST.
Thou art, and thou remain'st, a sophist, liar.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Yes, knew I not more deeply thy desire. For wilt thou not, no lover fairer. Poor Margaret flatter, and ensnare her. And all thy soul's devotion swear her ?
FAUST.
And from my heart.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
'T is very fine ! Thine endless love, thy faith assuring. The one almighty force enduring, — Will that, too, prompt this heart of thine ?
SCENE XL FAUST.
Hold ! hold ! It will ! — If such my flame,
And for the sense and power intense
I seek, and cannot find, a name ;
Then range with all my senses through creation.
Craving the speech of inspiration,
And call this ardor, so supernal,
Endless, eternal and eternal, —
Is that a devilish lying game ?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
And yet I 'm right ! *
FAUST.
Mark this, I beg of thee ! And spare my lungs henceforth : whoever Intends to have the right, if but his tongue be clever, Will have it, certainly.
But come : the further talking brings disgust, For thou art right, especially since I must'°4 ' ^
Md P^^ i ^ o ' TO
137
138 FAUST.
XII. GARDEN.
(Margaret on Faust's arm. Martha and MephistopH' ELES walking up and down.)
MARGARET.
T FEEL, the gentleman allows for me,
-L Demeans himself, and shames me by it;
A traveller is so used to be
Kindly content with any diet.
I know too well that my poor gossip can
Ne'er entertain such an experienced man.
FAUST.
A look from thee, a word, more entertains Than all the lore of wisest brains.
{He kisses her hand.)
MARGARET.
Don't incommode yourself ! How could you ever kiss it ! It is so ugly, rough to see ! What work I do, — how hard and steady is it ! Mother is much too close with me.
\They pass.
MARTHA.
And you, Sir, travel always, do you not ?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Alas, that trade and duty us so harry !
SCENE XII.
With what a pang one leaves so many a spot, And dares not even now and then to tarry !
139
MARTHA.
In young, wild years it suits your ways, • This round and round the world in freedom sweeping ; But then come on the evil days, And so, as bachelor, into his grave a-creeping, None ever found a thing to praise.
MEPHISTOPHELES-
I dread to see how such a fate advances.
MARTHA.
Then, worthy Sir, improve betimes your chances t
\They pass. MARGARET.
Yes, out of sight is p_iit-D£-»M«d+^ Your courtesy an easy grace is ; But you have friends in other places, And sensibler than I, you '11 find.
FAUST.
Trust me, dear heart ! what men call sensible Is oft mere vanity and narrowness.
MARGARET.
How so ?
FAUST.
Ah, that simplicity and innocence ne'er know Themselves, their holy value, and their spell ! That meekness, lowliness, the highest graces Which Nature portions out so lovingly —
140 FAUST.
MARGARET.
So you but think a moment's space on me,
All times I '11 have to think on you, all places ! '°s
FAUST.
No doubt you 're much alone ?
MARGARET.
Yes, for our household small has grown.
Yet must be cared for, you will own.
We have no maid : I do the knitting, sewing, sweeping,
The cooking, early work and late, in fact ;
And mother, in her notions of housekeeping,
Is so exact !
Not that she needs so much to keep expenses down :
We, more than others, might take comfort, rather :
A nice estate was left us by my father,
A house, a little garden near the town.
But now my days have less of noise and hurry ;
My brother is a soldier,
My little sister 's dead.
True, with the child a troubled life I led,
Yet I would take again, and willing, all the worry,
So very dear was she.
FAUST.
An angel, if like thee !
MARGARET.
I brought it up, and it was fond of me.
Father had died before it saw the light.
And mother's case seemed hopeless quite,
So weak and miserable she lay ;
And she recovered, then, so slowly, day by day.
She could not think, herself, of giving
/
SCENE XII. 141
The poor wee thing its natural living ;
And so I nursed it all alone
With milk and water : 't was my own.
Lulled in my lap with many a song,
It smiled, and tumbled, and grew strong.
FAUST.
The purest bliss was surely then thy dower.
MARGARET.
But surely, also, many a weary hour.
I kept the baby's cradle near
My bed at night : if 't even stirred, I 'd guess it.
And waking, hear.
And I must nurse it, warm beside me press it,
And oft, to quiet it, my bed forsake,
And dandhng back and forth the restless creature take,
Then at the wash-tub stand, at morning's break ;
And then the marketing and kitchen-tending,
Dky after day, the same thing, never-ending.
/One's spirits. Sir, are thus not always good,
But then one learns to relish rest and food.
\They pass.
MARTHA.
Yes, the poor women are bad off, 't is true : A stubborn bachelor there 's no converting.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
It but depends upon the like of you.
And I should turn to better ways than flirting.
MARTHA.
Speak plainly. Sir, have you no one detected ? Has not your heart been anywhere subjected ?
142
FA UST.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
The proverb says : One's own warm hearth And a good wife, are gold and jewels worth.
MARTHA.
I mean, have you not felt desire, though ne'er so slightly ?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
I 've everywhere, in fact, been entertained politely.
MARTHA.
I meant to say, were you not touched in earnest, ever ?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
One should allow one's self to jest with ladies never.
MARTHA.
Ah, you don't understand !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
I 'm sorry I 'm so blind : But I am sure — that you are very kind.
[They pass FAUST.
And me, thou angel ! didst thou recognize, As through the garden-gate I came.?
MARGARET.
Did you not see it ? I cast down my eyes.
FAUST.
And thou forgiv'st my freedom, and the blame
To my impertinence befitting,
As the Cathedral thou wert quitting?
'SCENE XII. 143
MARGARET.
I was confused, the like ne'er happened me ; No one could ever speak to my discredit. Ah, thought I, in my conduct has he read it — Something immodest or unseemly free ? He seemed to have the sudden feeling That with this wench 't were very easy dealing. I will confess, I knew not what appeal On your behalf, here, in my bosom grew ; But I was angry with myself, to feel That I could no* be angrier with you.
FAUST.
Sweet darling !
MARGARET.
Wait a while !
[She pltuks a star-flower y^'^ and pulls off the leaves^ one after the other.)
FAUST.
Shall that a nosegay be ?
MARGARET.
No, it is just in play.
FAUST.
How?
MARGARET.
Go ! you '11 laugh at me. {She pulls off the leaves and murmurs.)
FAUST. What murmurest thou ?
144 FAUST. •
MARGARET {half aloud).
He loves me — loves me not.
FAUST.
Thou sweet, angelic soul !
MARGARET {^continues). Loves me — not — loves me — not —
{plucking the last leaf, she cries with frank delight ;) He loves me !
FAUST.
Yes, child ! and let this blossom-word For thee be speech divine ! He loves thee ! Ah, know'st thou what it means ? He loves thee !
[He grasps both her hands.) MARGARET.
I 'm all a-tremble !
FAUST.
O tremble not ! but let this look, Let this warm clasp of hands declare ^hee What is unspeakable ! ^-^
To yield one wholly, and to feel a rapture In yielding, that must be eternal ! Eternal ! — for the end would be despair. No, no, — no ending ! no ending !
s
MARTHA {coming forward). The night is falling.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Ay ! we must away.
SCENE XII. 145
MARTHA.
I 'd ask you, longer here to tarry,
But evil tongues in this town have full play.
It 's as if nobody had nothing to fetch and carry,'°7
Nor other labor,
But spying all the doings of one's neighbor :
And one becomes the talk, do whatsoe'er one may.
Where is our couple now ?
MEPlflsTOPHELES.
Flown up the alley yonder,
The wilful summer-birds !
MARTHA.
He seems of her still fonder.
MESHISTOPHELES.
And she of him. So runs the world away !
Vol. I.
146 FAUST.
XIII.
A GARDEN-ARBOR.
(Margaret comes in, conceals herself behind the door, puts her finger to her lips, and peep^ through the cracky
MARGARET.
T TE comes!
FAUST {entering). Ah, rogue ! a tease thou art : I have thee !
{He kisses her.)
MARGARET (clasping him, and returning the kiss).
Dearest man ! I love thee from my heart.
(Mephistopheles knocks.)
FAUST {stamping his foot). Who 's there ?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
A friend !
FAUST.
A beast !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
'T is time to separate.
SCENE XIII. i^y
MARTHA {coming).
Yes, Sir, 't is late.
FAUST.
May I not, then, upon you wait ?
MARGARET.
My mother would — farewell !
FAUST.
Ah, can I not remain ? Farewell !
MARTHA.
Adieu !
MARGARET.
And soon to meet again I [Exeunt Faust and Mephistophelesj
MARGARET.
Dear God ! However is it, such A man can think and know so much ? I stand ashamed and in amaze. And answer " Yes " to all he says, A poor, unknowing child ! and he — I can't think what he finds in me !
[Ext^
148 FAUST.
XIV.
FOREST AND CAVERN.^°8
FAUST {solus).
" O PIRIT sublime, thou gav'st me, gav'st me all ^ For which I prayed. Not unto me in vain Hast thou thy countenance revealed in fire. Thou gav'st me Nature as a kingdom grand. With power to feel and to enjoy it. Thou Not only cold, amazed acquaintance yield'st. But grantest, that in her profoundest breast I gaze, as in the bosom of a friend. The ranks of living creatures thou dost lead Before me, teaching me to know my brothers In air and water and the silent wood. And when the storm in forests roars and grinds. The giant firs, in falling, neighbor boughs And neighbor trunks with crushing weight bear down, And falling, fill the hills with hollow thunders, — Then to the cave secure thou leadest me, Then show'st me mine own self, and in my breast The deep, mysterious miracles unfold. '
And when the perfect moon before my gaze Comes up with soothing light, around me float From every precipice and thicket damp The silvery phantoms of the ages past. And temper the austere delight of thought.
I /SThat nothing can be perfect unto Man V 11 now am conscious. With this ecstasy,
SCENE XIV.
149
j Which brings me near and nearer to the Gods, Thou gav'st the comrade, whom I now no more Can do without, though, cold and scornful, he Demeans me to myself, and with a breath, A word, transforms thy gifts to nothingness. Within my breast he fans a lawless fire,
I Unwearied, for that fair and lovely form :
I Thus in desire I hasten to enjoyment, And in enjoyment pine to feel desire.
(Mephistopheles enters.)
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Have you not led this life quite long enough ? How can a further test^elight you ? 'T is very well, that once one tries the stuff. But something new must then requite you.
FAUST.
Would there were other work for thee !
To plague my day auspicious thou returnest.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Well ! I '11 engage to let thee be :
Thou darest not tell me so in earnest.
The loss of thee were truly very slight, —
A comrade crazy, rude, repelling :
One has one's hands full all the day and night ;
If what one does, or leaves undone, is right.
From such a face as thine there is no telling.
FAUST.
There is, again, thy proper tone ! —
That thou hast bored me, I must thankful be !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Poor Son of Earth, how couldst thou thus alone Have led thy life, bereft of me ?
150 FAUST.
I, for a time, at least, have worked thy cure ;
Thy fancy's rickets plague thee not at all :
Had I not been, so hadst thou, sure,
Walked thyself off this earthly ball.
Why here to caverns, rocky hollows slinking,
Sit'st thou, as 't were an owl a-bHnking ?
Why suck'st, from sodden moss and dripping stone,
Toad-like, thy nourishment alone ?
A fine way, this, thy time to fill !
The Doctor 's in thy body still.
FAUST.
What fresh and vital forces, canst thou guess. Spring from my commerce with the wilderness ? But, if thou hadst the power of guessing. Thou wouldst be devil enough to grudge my soul the blessing.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
A blessing drawn from supernatural fountains !
In night and dew to lie upon the mountains ;
All Heaven and Earth in rapture penetrating ;
Thyself to Godhood haughtily inflating ;
To grub with yearning force through Earth's dark marrow,
Compress the six days' work within thy bosom nar- row,— X
To taste, I know not what, in haughty power, y-
Thine own ecstatic life on all things shower.
Thine earthly self behind thee cast.
And then the lofty instinct, thus —
( With a gesture :)
at last, — 1 dare n't say how — to pluck the final flower !
SCENE XIV. 15 1
FAUST. Shame on thee !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Yes, thou findest that unpleasant ! Thou hast the moral right to cry me " shame ! " at present One dares not that before chaste ears declare, '^^ Which chaste nearts, notwithstanding, cannot spare ; And, once for all, I grudge thee not the pleasure Of lying to thyself in moderate measure. But such a course thou wilt not long endure ; Already art thou o'er-excited, And, if it last, wilt soon be plighted To madness and to horror, sure. Enough of that ! Thy love sits lonely yonder,"° By all things saddened and oppressed ; Her thoughts and yearnings seek thee, tenderer, fondei , -^ A mighty love is in her breast.
First came thy passion's flood and poured around her As when from melted snow a streamlet overflows ; Thou hast therewith so filled and drowned her, That now thy stream all shallow shows. Methinks, instead of in the forests lording, The noble Sir should find it good, The love of this young silly blood At once to set about rewarding. Her time is miserably long ;
She haunts her window, watching clouds that stray O'er the old city-wall, and far away. " Were I a little bird ! " so runs her song,"* Day long, and half night long. Now she is lively, mostly sad. Now, wept beyond her tears ; Then again quiet she appears, — Always love-mad.
152 FAUST.
FAUST.
Serpent! serpent!
MEPHISTOPHELES {aside).
Ha ! do I trap thee !
FAUST.
Get thee away with thine offences, Reprobate ! Name not that fairest thing, Nor the desire for her sweet body bring Again before my half-distracted senses !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
What wouldst thou, then? She thinks that thou art
flown; And half and half thou art, I own.
FAUST.
Yet am I near, and love keeps watch and ward ; Though I were ne'er so f ar,jt cannot falter : I envy even the Body of the^Lord The touching of her lips, before the altar.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
'T is very well ! My envy oft reposes
On your twin-pair, that feed among the roses."*
FAUST.
Away, thou pimp !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
You rail, and it is fun to me. The God, who fashioned youth and maid. Perceived the noblest purpose of His trade, And also made their opportunity. Go on ! It is a woe profound !
SCENE XIV. 153
T is for your sweetheart's room you 're bound, And not for death, indeed.
FAUST.
What are, within her arms, the heavenly blisses ?
Though I be glowing with her kisses,
Do I not always share her need ?
I am the fugitive, all houseless roaming.
The monster without aim or rest,
That like a cataract, down rocks and gorges foaming,
Leaps, maddened, into the abyss's breast !
And side-wards she, with young unwakened senses,
Within her cabin on the Alpine field
Her simple, homely Hfe commences,
Her little world therein concealed.
And I, God's hate flung o'er me.
Had not enough, to thrust
The stubborn rocks before me
And strike them into dust !
She and her peace I yet must undermine :
Thou, Hell, hast claimed this sacrifice as thine !
Help, Devil ! through the coming pangs to push me ;
What must be, let it quickly be !
Let fall on me her fate, and also crush me, —
One ruin whelm both her and me !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Again it seethes, again it glows ! Thou fool, go in and comfort her ! When such a head as thine no outlet knows, — It thinks the end must soon occur. Hail him, who keeps a steadfast mind ! Thoi\, else, dost well the devil-nature wear : Naught so insipid in the world I find As is a devil in despair. 7*
154
FAUST.
XV.
MARGARET'S ROOM.
MARGARET "3 {at the spinning-wheel, alone).
MY peace is gone, My heart is sore : I never shall find it, Ah, nevermore !
Save I have him near, The grave is here ; The world is gall And bitterness all.
My poor weak head Is racked and crazed 5 My thought is lost. My senses mazed.
My peace is gone. My heart is sore : I never shall find it, Ah, nevermore !
To see him, him only, At the pane I sit ; To meet him, him only, The house I quit.
SCENE XV. 1 2^
His lofty gait,
His noble size,
The smile of his mouth,
The power of his eyes,
And the magic flow Of his talk, the bhss In the clasp of his hand, And, ah ! his kiss !
My peace is gone. My heart is sore : I never shall find it. Ah, nevermore !
My bosom yearns For him alone ; Ah, dared I clasp him, And hold, and own !
And kiss his mouth. To heart's desire, And on his kisses At last expire !
156 FAUST.
XVI.
MARTHA'S GARDEN,
Margaret. Faust, margaret.
■pROMISE me, Henry!
FAUST.
What I can !
MARGARET.
How is 't with thy rehgion, pray ?
Thou art' a dear, good-hearted man,
And yet, I think, dost not incline that way.
FAUST.
Leave that, my child ! Thou know'st my iove is tender;
For love, my blood and life would I surrender.
And as for Faith and Church, I grant to each his own.
MARGARET.
That 's not enough : w^v.must believe thereon.
FAUST.
Must we ?
MARGARET.
Would that I had some influence ! Then, too, thou honorest not the Holy Sacraments.
SCENE XVI. 157
FAUST.
I honor them.
MARGARET.
Desiring no possession. 'T is long since thou hast been to mass or to confessioa Behevest thou in God ?
FAUST.
My darling, who shall dare ^ « I believe in God ! " to say ? Ask priest or sage the answer to declare, And it will seem a mocking play, A sarcasm on the asker.
MARGARET.
Then thou believest not !
FAUST.
Hear me not falsely, sweetest countenance ! "*
Who dare express Him ?
And who profess Him,
Saying : I believe in Him !
Who, feehng, seeing.
Deny His being,
Saying : I believe Him not !
The All-enfolding,
The All-upholding,
Folds and upholds he not
Thee, me. Himself?
Arches not there the sky above us ?
Lies not beneath us, firm, the earth ?
And rise not, on us shining,
Friendly, the everlasting stars .?
Look I not, eye to eye, on thee,
158 FAUST.
And feel'st not, thronging
To head and heart, the force,
Still weaving its eternal secret,
Invisible, visible, round thy life ?
Vast as it is, fill with that force thy heart,
And when thou in the feeling wholly blessed art>
Call it, then, what thou wilt, —
Call it Bliss ! Heart ! Love ! God !
I have no name to give it !
Feeling is all in all :
The Name is sound and smoke,
Obscuring Heaven's clear glow.
MARGARET.
All that is fine and good, to hear it so : Much the same way the preacher spoke, Only with slightly different phrases.
FAUST.
The same thing, in all places,
All hearts that beat beneath the heavenly day —
Each in its language — say ;
Then why not I, in mine, as well ?
MARGARET.
To hear it thus, it may seem passable ; And yet, some hitch in 't there must be For thou hast no Christianity.
FAUST.
Dear love !
MARGARET.
I 've Ions: been gfrieved to see
o 0 ^ —
That thou art in such company. /
znA^/^— - ^^Rr^Hf^e/Oi^
SCENE XVI. 159
FAUST.
How so ?
MARGARET. ^
The man who with thee goes, thy mate, Within my deepest, inmost soul I hate. In all my life there 's nothing Has given my heart so keen a pang of loathing, As his repulsive face has done.
FAUST.
Nay, fear him not, ihy sweetest one !
^ MARGARET.
I feel his presence like something ill.
I 've else, for all, a kindly will.
But, much as my heart to see thee yeameth,
The secret horror of him returneth ;
And I think the man a knave, as I Uve !
If I do him wrong, may God forgive !
FAUST.
There must be such queer birds, however.
MARGARET.
Live with the like of him, may I never !
When once inside the door comes he.
He looks around so sneeringly.
And half in wrath :
One sees that in nothing no interest he hath
'T is written on his very forehead
That love, to him, is a thing abhorred.
I am so happy on thine arm.
So free, so yielding, and so warm,
And in his presence stifled seems my heart.
l6o FAUST.
FAUST.
Foreboding angel that thou art !
MARGARET.
It overcomes me in such degree,
That wheresoe'er he meets us, even, -
I feel as though I 'd lost my love for thee.
When he is by, I could not pray to Heaven. •
That burns within me like a flame,
And surely, Henry, 't is with thee the same.
FAUST.
There, now, is thine antipathy !
MARGARET.
But I must go.
FAUST.
Ah, shall there never be A quiet hour, to see us fondly plighted, With breast to breast, and soul to soul united ?
MARGARET.
Ah, if I only slept alone !
I 'd draw the bolts to-night, for thy desire ;
But mother's sleep so light has grown.
And if we were discovered by her,
'T would be my death upon the spot !
FAUST.
Thou angel, fear it not !
Here is a phial : in her drink
But three drops of it measure,
And deepest sleep will on her senses sink.
[Exif.
SCENE XVI. i6i
MARGARET.
What would I not, to give thee pleasure ? It will not harm her, when one tries it?
FAUST.
If 't would, my love, would I advise it?
MARGARET.
Ah, dearest man, if but thy face I see, I know not what compels me to thy will : So much have I already done for thee. That scarcely more is left me to fulfil.
{Enter Mephistopheles.)
MEPHISTOPHELES.
The monkey! Is she gone?
FAUST.
Hast played the spy again ?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
I 've heard, most fully, how she drew thee.
The Doctor has been catechised, 't is plain ;
Great good, I hope, the thing will do thee.
The girls have much desire to ascertain
If one is prim and good, as ancient rules compel :
If there he 's led, they think, he '11 follow them as well.
FAUST.
Thou, monster, wilt nor see nor own
How this pure soul, of faith so lowly,
So loving and ineffable, —
The faith alone
That her salvation is, — with scruples holy
Pines, lest she hold as lost the man she loves so well !
1 62 FAUST.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Thou, full of sensual, super-sensual desire, A girl by the nose is leading thee.
FAUST.
Abortion, thou, of filth and fire !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
And then, how masterly she reads physiognomy ! '
When I am present she 's impressed, she knows not how, She in my mask a hidden sense would read : She feels that surely I 'm a genius now, — Perhaps the very Devil, indeed ! Well, well, — to-night — .?
\C^O^^l FAUST.
What 's that to thee ?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Yet my delight 't will also be I
SCENE XVII.
163
XVII.
AT THE FOUNTAIN."s
Margaret and Lisbeth with pitchers,
LISBETH.
TT AST nothing heard of Barbara ?
MARGARET.
No, not a word. I go so little out.
LISBETH.
It 's true, Sibylla said, to-day.
She 's played the fool at last, there 's not a doubt
Such taking-on of airs !
MARGARET.
How so ?
LISBETH.
It Stinks ! She 's feeding two, whene'er she eats and drinks.
"■" J .-..V .:~M ^^
MARGARET. "
Ah! r '^ :
LISBETH.
And so, at last, it serves her rightly. She clung to the fellow so long and tightly ! That was a promenading ! At village and dance parading !
1 64 FAUS1\
As the first they must everywhere shine, And he treated her always to pies and wine, And she made a to-do with her face so fine ; So mean and shameless was her behavior, She took all the presents the fellow gave her. 'T was kissing and coddling, on and on ! So now, at the end, the flower is gone.
MARGARET.
The poor, poor thing !
LISBETH.
Dost pity her, at that ? When one of us at spinning sat, And mother, nights, ne'er let us out the door She sported with her paramour. On the door-bench, in the passage dark. The length of the time they 'd never mark. So now her head no more she '11 lift. But do church-penance in her sinner's shift !
MARGARET.
He '11 surely take her for his wife.
LISBETH.
He 'd be a fool ! A brisk young blade Has room, elsewhere, to ply his trade. Besides, he 's gone.
MARGARET.
That is not fair !
LISBETH.
If him she gets, why let her beware !
SCENE XVII. 165
The boys shall dash her wreath on the floor, And we '11 scatter chaff before her door ! "^
\Exit.
MARGARET {returning home). How scornfully I once reviled, When some poor maiden was beguiled I More speech than any tongue suffices I craved, to censure others' vices. Black as it seemed, I blackened still. And blacker yet was in my will ; And blessed myself, and boasted high, — And now — a living sin am I ! Yet — all that drove my heart thereto, God ! was so good, so dear, so true !
1 66 FAUST.
XVIII.
D0NJ0N."7
[In a niche of the wall a shrine, with an image of the Mater Dolorosa. Pots of flowers before it.)
MARGARET
{putting fresh flowers in the pots).
INCLINE, O Maiden, Thou sorrow-laden, Thy gracious countenance upon my pain !
The sword Thy heart in,
With anguish smarting.
Thou lookest up to where Thy Son is slain !
Thou seest the Father ;
Thy sad sighs gather.
And bear aloft Thy sorrow and His pain !
Ah, past guessing.
Beyond expressing,
The pangs that wring my flesh and bone !
Why this anxious heart so burneth.
Why it trembleth, why it yeameth,
Knowest Thou, and Thou alone !
/ Where'er I go, what sorrow. What woe, what woe and sorrow _
SCENE XVIII. 167
Within my bosom aches ! Alone, and ah ! unsleeping, I 'm weeping, weeping, weeping. The heart within me breaks.
The pots before my window, Alas ! my tears did wet, As in the early morning For thee these flowers I set.
Within my lonely chamber The morning sun shone red : I sat, in utter sorrow, Already on my bed.
Help ! rescue me from death and stain !
O Maiden !
Thou sorrow-laden,
Incline Thy countenance upon my pain !
i68 FAUST,
W
XIX.
NIGHT. Street before Margaret's door.
valentine "8 {a soldier, Margaret's brother). HEN I have sat at some carouse,
Where each to each his brag allows, And many a comrade praised to me His pink of girls right lustily, With brimming glass that spilled the toast, And elbows planted as in boast : I sat in unconcerned repose. And heard the swagger as it rose. And stroking then my beard, I 'd say, Smiling, the bumper in my hand : " Each well enough in her own way. But is there one in all the land Like sister Margaret, good as gold, — One that to her can a candle hold ? " Cling ! clang ! " Here 's to her ! " went around The board : " He speaks the truth ! " cried some ; " In her the flower o' the sex is found ! " And all the swaggerers were dumb. And now ! — I could tear my hair with vexation, And dash out my brains in desperation ! With turned-up nose each scamp may face me, With sneers and stinging taunts disgrace me,
169
SCENE XIX.
And, like a bankrupt debtor sitting,
A chance-dropped word may set me sweating !
Yet, though I thresh them all together,
I cannot call them liars, either.
But what comes sneaking, there, to view ? If I mistake not, there are two. If he 's one, let me at him drive ! He shall not leave the spot alive.
Faust. Mephistopheles.
FAUST.
How from the window of the sacristy
Upward th' eternal lamp sends forth a glimmer,
That, lessening side-wards, fainter grows and dimmer,
Till darkness closes from the sky !
The shadows thus within my bosom gather.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
I 'm like a sentimental tom-cat, rather,
That round the tall fire-ladders sweeps.
And stealthy, then, along the coping creeps :
Quite virtuous, withal, I come,
A little thievish and a httle frolicsome.
I feel in every limb the presage
Forerunning the grand Walpurgis-Night :
Da^ dftei to-ii'iuii'Ow^mgsTtTmessage,
And one keeps watch then with delight. »
FAUST.
Meanwhile, may not the treasure risen be, Which there, behind, I glimmering see ?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Shalt soon experience the pleasure, To lift the kettle with its treasure. VOL. I. 8
lyo FAUST.
I lately gave therein a squint — Saw splendid lion-dollars in 't."9
FAUST.
Not even a jewel, not a ring,
To deck therewith my darling girl ?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
I saw, among the rest, a thing That seemed to be a chain of pearl.
FAUST.
That 's well, indeed ! For painful is it To bring no gift when her I visit.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Thou shouldst not find it so annoying.
Without return to be enjoying.
Now, while the sky leads forth its starry throng,
Thou 'It hear a masterpiece, no work completer :
I '11 sing her, first, a moral song.
The surer, afterwards, to cheat her.
{Sings to the cither.)
What dost thou here'=« In daybreak clear, Kathrina dear. Before thy lover's door ? Beware! the blade Lets in a maid. That out a maid Departeth nevermore !
The coaxing shun Of such an one ! When once 't is done
SCENE XIX. 171
!
Of
Good-night to thee, poor thing !
Love's time is brief :
Unto,DD-thief "^
Be warm and lief J < — i; "J'Hfc'
But with the wedding-ringj '■^'^ ^ A^ ^^ ^ AT"! ^ *J
VALENTINE (comes forward).
Whom wilt thou lure ? God's-element ! Rat-catching piper, thou ! — perdition ! "* To the Devil, first, the instrument ! To the Devil, then, the curst musician !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
The cither 's smashed ! For nothing more 't is fitting.
VALENTINE.
There 's yet a skull I must be splitting !
MEPHISTOPHELES {to FaUST).
Sir Doctor, don't retreat, I pray ! Stand by : I '11 lead, if you '11 but tarry : Out with your spit, without delay ! ^=« You 've but to lunge, and I will parry.
VALENTINE.
Then parry that !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Why not ? 't is light.
VALENTINE.
That, too !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Of course.
VALENTINE.
I think the Devil must fight ! How is it, then ? my hand 's already lame.
172
FAUST.
MEPHISTOPHELES {to FaUST).
Thrust..borae !
f:'^\,A i f VALENTINE {falls).
iClLi^S^ OGod!
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Now is the lubber tame ! But come, away ! 'T is time for us to fly ; For there arises now a murderous cry. With the police 't were easy to compound it, But here the penal court will sift and sound it.
\Exit zvith Faust.
MARTHA {at the window). Come out ! come out !
MARGARET {at the window).
Quick, bring a light !
MARTHA {as above).
They swear and storm, they yell and fight !
PEOPLE.
Here hes one dead already — see !
MARTHA {coming from the house). The murderers, whither have they run "i
MARGARET {coming out).
Who lies here ?
PEOPLE.
'T is thy mother's son !
MARGARET.
Almighty God ! what misery !
SCENE XIX. 173
VALENTINE.
I 'm dying ! That is quickly said, And quicker yet 't is done. Why howl, you women there? Instead, Come here and listen, every one ! {All gather around him. ) My Margaret, see ! still young thou art. But not the least bit shrewd or smart, Thy business thus to slight : So this acjvice I bid thee heed — Now that thou art a whore indeed. Why, be one then, outright !
MARGARET.
My brother ! God ! such words to me ?
VALENTINE.
In this game let our Lord God be ! What 's done 's already done, alas ! What follows it, must come to pass. With one begin'st thou secretly, Then soon will others come to thee. And when a dozen thee have known. Thou 'rt also free to all the town.
When Shame is born and first appears.
She is in secret brought to light,
And then they draw the veil of night
Over her head and ears ;
Her life, in fact, they 're loath to spare her.
But let her growth and strength display.
She walks abroad unveiled by day,
Yet is not grown a whit the fairer.
The uglier she is to sight,
The more she seeks the day's broad hght.
174
FA UST.
The time I verily can discern When all the honest folk will turn From thee, thou jade ! and seek protection As from a corpse that breeds infection. Thy guilty heart shall then dismay thee, When they but look thee in the face : — Shalt not in a golden chain array thee, Nor at the altar take thy place ! Shalt not, in lace and ribbons flowing. Make merry when the dance is going ! But in some corner, woe betide "thee ! Among the beggars and cripples hide thee ; And so, though even God forgive. On earth a damned existence live !
MARTHA.
Commend your soul to God for pardon, That you your heart with slander harden !
^^C<fO-r/''< VALENTINE.
Thou pimp most infamous, be still ! ^ /4 iZ(k ^-'-'^ ' ^ ^ Could I thy withered body kill,
'T would bring, for all my sinful pleasure. Forgiveness in the richest measure.
MARGARET.
My brother ! This is Hell's own pain !
VALENTINE.
I tell thee, from thy tears refrain ! When thou from honor didst depart It stabbed me to the very heart. §J$6 /^i^^C''^' Now through the slumber of the grave I go to God as a soldier brave. [Dies.)
SCENE XX. 175
XX.
CATHEDRAL.^^ Service, Organ and Anthem.
^Margaret among much people: the EviL SPIRIT behind Margaret.)
evil spirit.
HOW otherwise was it, Margaret, When thou, still innocent, Here to the altar cam'st. And from the worn and fingered book Thy prayers didst prattle. Half sport of childhood. Half God within thee ! Margaret !
Where tends thy thought ? Within thy bosom What hidden crime ? .
Pray'st thou for mercy on thy mother's soul. That fell asleep to long, long torment, and through thee ? Upon thy threshold whose the blood ? And stirreth not and quickens Something beneath thy heart. Thy life disquieting With most foreboding presence ?
MARGARET.
Woe ! woe !
Would I were free from the thoughts
176 FAUST.
That cross me, drawing hither and thither, Despite me !
CHORUS.
Dies ircE, dies illa^^""^ Solvet scBclum infavilla / {Sound of the organ.)
EVIL SPIRIT.
Wrath takes thee ! The trumpet peals ! The graves tremble ! And thy heart From ashy rest To fiery torments Now again requickened, Throbs to life !
MARGARET.
Would I were forth ! I feel as if the organ here My breath takes from me, My very heart Dissolved by the anthem !
CHORUS.
yudex ergo cum sedebit^'^^ Quidquid latet, adparebit^ Nil inultum remanebit.
MARGARET.
I cannot breathe !
The massy pillars
Imprison me ! '
The vaulted arches
Crush me ! — Air !
SCENE XX. 177
EVIL SPIRIT.
Hide thyself ! Sin and shame Stay never hidden. Air ? Light ? Woe to thee !
126
CHORUS.
Quid sum miser tunc dicturus^ Quefn patronum rogaturus, Cum vix Justus sit securus?
EVIL SPIRIT.
They turn their faces, The glorified, from thee : The pure, their hands to offer, Shuddering, refuse thee ! Woe!
CHORUS.
Quid sum ftiiser tunc dicturus ?
MARGARET.
Neighbor ! your cordial ! '=^ {She falls in a swoon.')
178 FAUST.
XXI.
WALPURGIS-NIGHT.^»8 The Hartz Mountains. District of Schierke and Elend. Faust. Mephistopheles.
mephistopheles.
DOST thou not wish a broomstick-steed's assistance ? The sturdiest he-goat I would gladly see : The way we take, our goal is yet some distance.
FAUST.
So long as in my legs I feel the fresh existence,
This knotted staff suffices me.
What need to shorten so the way .?
Along this labyrinth of vales to wander,
Then climb the rocky ramparts yonder,
Wherefrom the fountain flings eternal spray.
Is such delight, my steps would fain delay.
The spring-time stirs within the fragrant birches.
And even the fir-tree feels it now :
Should then our Kmbs escape its gentle searches ?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
I notice no such thing, I vow !
'T is winter still within my body :
Upon my path I wish for frost and snow.
SCENE XXL
How sadly rises, incomplete and ruddy,
The moon's lone disk, with its belated glow,'^
And lights so- dimly, that, as one advances,
At every step one strikes a rock or tree !
Let us, then, use a Jack-o'-lantern's glances :
I see one yonder, burning merrily.
Ho, there ! my friend ! I '11 levy thine attendance :
Why waste so vainly thy resplendence ?
Be kind enough to light us up the steep !
will-o'-the-wisp. My reverence, I hope, will me enable To curb my temperament unstable ; For zigzag courses we are wont to keep.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Indeed .-* hejd ILkeJtnankind to imitate ! Now, in the Devil's name, go straight, Or I '11 blow out his being's flickering spark !
WILL-O'-THE-WISP.
You are the master of the house, I mark,
And I shall try to serve you nicely.
But then, reflect : the mountain 's magic-mad to-day,
And if a will-o'-the-wisp must guide you on the way,
You must n't take things too precisely.
FAUST, MEPHISTOPHELES, WILL-O'-THE-WISP
{m alternating song).
We, it seems, have entered newly In the sphere of dreams enchanted. Do thy bidding, guide us truly. That our feet be forward? planted In the vast, the desert spaces !
179
l8o FAUST.
See them swiftly changing places, Trees on trees beside us trooping, And the crags above us stooping, And the rocky snouts, outgrowing, — Hear them snoring, hear them blowing ! '3° O'er the stones, the grasses, flowing Stream and streamlet seek the hollow. Hear I noises ? songs that follow ? Hear I tender love-petitions ? Voices of those heavenly visions ? Sounds of hope, of love undying ! And the echoes, like traditions Of old days, come faint and hollow.
Hoo-hoo ! Shoo-hoo ! Nearer hover Jay and screech-owl, and the plover, — Are they all awake and crying ? Is 't the salamander pushes, Bloated-bellied, through the bushes ? And the roots, like serpents twisted. Through the sand and boulders toiling, Fright us, weirdest links uncoihng To entrap us, unresisted : Living knots and gnarls uncanny Feel with polypus-antennae For the wanderer. Mice are flying, Thousand-colored, herd-wise hieing Through the moss and through the heather! And the fire-flies wink and darkle. Crowded swarms that soar -end sparkle, And in wildering escort gather !
Tell me, if we still are standing, Or if further we 're ascending '^. All is turning, whirling, blending. Trees and rocks with grihning faces.
SCENE XXL 18 1
Wandering lights that spin in mazes. Still increasing and expanding !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Grasp my skirt with heart undaunted ! Here a middle-peak is planted, Whence one seeth, with amaze, Mammon in the mountain blaze.
FAUST.
How strangely glimmers through the hollows A dreary light, like that of dawn ! Its exhalation tracks and follows The deepest gorges, faint and wan. Here steam, there rolling vapor sweepeth ; Here burns the glow through film and haze : Now like a tender thread it creepeth, Now like a fountain leaps and plays. Here winds away, and in a hundred Divided veins the valley braids : There, in a corner pressed and sundered, Itself detaches, spreads and fades. Here gush the sparkles incandescent Like scattered showers of golden sand ; — But, see ! in all their height, at present, The rocky ramparts blazing stand.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Has not Sir Mammon grandly lighted
His palace for this festal night ?
'T is lucky thou hast seen the sight ;
The boisterous guests approach that were invited.
FAUST.
How raves the tempest through the air ! *3'
With what fierce blows upon my neck 't is beating !
i82 FAUST.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Under the old ribs of the rock retreating,
Hold fast, lest thou be hurled down the abysses there !
The night with the mist is black ;
Hark ! how the forests grind and crack !
Frightened, the owlets are scattered :
Hearken ! the pillars are shattered,
The evergreen palaces shaking !
Boughs are groaning and breaking,
The tree-trunks terribly thunder,
The roots are twisting asunder !
In frightfully intricate crashing
Each on the other is dashing,
And over the wreck-strewn gorges
The tempest whistles and surges !
Hear'st thou voices higher ringing ?
Far away, or nearer singing ?
Yes, the mountain's side along.
Sweeps an infuriate glamouring song !
WITCHES {in chorus). The witches ride to the Brocken's top, '32 The stubble is yellow, and green the crop. There gathers the crowd for carnival : Sir Urian sits over all. And so they go over stone and stock ; The witch she s, and s the buck.
A VOICE.
Alone, old Baubo 's coming now ; ^33 She rides upon a farrow-sow.
CHORUS.
Then honor to whom the honor is due ! Dame Baubo first, to lead the crew !
SCENE XXI. 183
A tough old sow and the mother thereon, Then follow the witches, every one.
A VOICE.
Which way com'st thou hither t
VOICE.
O'er the Ilsen-stone. I peeped at the owl in her nest alone : How she stared and glared !
VOICE.
Betake thee to Hell ! Why so fast and so fell ?
VOICE.
She has scored and has flayed me : See the wounds she has made me!
WITCHES {chorus). The way is wide, the way is long : See, what a wild and crazy throng ! The broom it scratches, the fork it thrusts, The child is stifled, the mother bursts.
WIZARDS {semichorus). ks, doth the snail in shell, we crawl : Before us go the women all.
LWhen towards the Devil's House we tread, "|
Woman 's a thousand steps ahead.^34 I
OTHER SEMICHORUS.
We do not measure with such care : Woman in thousand steps is there. But howsoe'er she hasten may, Man in one leap has cleared the way.
J
184 FAUST.
VOICE [from above). Come on, come on, from Rocky Lake !
VOICE {from below). Aloft we 'd fain ourselves betake. We 've washed, and are bright as ever you will, Yet we 're eternally sterile still/35
BOTH CHORUSES.
The wind is hushed, the star shoots by, The dreary moon forsakes the sky ; The magic notes, like spark on spark, Drizzle, whistling through the dark.'s^
VOICE {from below). Halt, there ! Ho, there !
VOICE {from above). Who calls from the rocky cleft below there ?
VOICE {below). Take me, too ! take me, too ! I 'm climbing now three hundred years, '37 And yet the summit cannot see : Among my equals I would be.
BOTH CHORUSES.
Bears the broom and bears the stock, Bears the fork and bears the buck : Who cannot raise himself to-night Is evermore a ruined wight.
HALF-WITCH {below).
So long I stumble, ill bestead.
And the others are now so far ahead !
SCENE XXI. 185
v/
^t home I 've neither rest nor cheer, And yet I cannot gain them here.
CHORUS OF WITCHES.
To cheer the witch will salve avail ; A rag will answer for a sail ; Each trough a goodly ship supplies ; He ne'er_wiUJy;>jwhj?jaQ.WJaQt. flies. „
BOTH CHORUSES.
When round the summit whirls our flight, Then lower, and on the ground alight ; And far and wide the heather press With witchhood's swarms of wantonness !
( They settle down. ) MEPHISTOPHELES.
They crowd and push, they roar and clatter ! They whirl and whistle, pull and chatter ! They shine, and spirt, and stink, and burn ! The true witch-element we learn. Keep close ! or we are parted, in our turn. Where art thou ?
FAUST {in the distance). Here !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
What ! whirled so far asv^^y ? Then house-right I must use, and clear tlie way. Make room ! Squire Voland comes ! '38 Room, gentles
rabble, room! - viv \ eA.^.-^: \, ,r\, Vj^<<JajeJ ^-^
Here, Doctor, hold to me : in one jump we '11 resume An easier space, and from the crowd be free : It 's too much, even for the Hke of me.
i86 FAUST.
Yonder, with special light, there 's something shining
clearer Within those bushes ; I 've a mind to see. Come on ! we '11 slip a Httle nearer.
FAUST.
Spirit of Contradiction ! On ! I '11 follow straight. 'T is planned most wisely, if I judge aright : We climb the Brocken's top in the Walpurgis-Night, That arbitrarily, here, ourselves we isolate.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
But see, what motley flames among the heather ! There is a lively club together : In smaller circles one is not alone.
FAUST.
Better the summit, I must own : There fire and whirling smoke I see. They seek the Evil One in wild confusion : Many enigmas there might find solution.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
But there enigmas also knotted be.
Leave to the multitude their riot !
Here will we house ourselves in quiet.
It is an old, transmitted trade,
That in the greater world the little worlds are made.
I see stark-nude young witches congregate.
And old ones, veiled and hidden shrewdly :
On my account be kind, nor treat them rudely !
The trouble 's small, the fun is great.
I hear the noise of instruments attuning, —
Vile din ! yet one must learn to bear the crooning.
Come, come along ! It must be, I declare !
SCENE XXI. 187
I '11 go ahead and introduce thee there,
Thine obligation newly earning.
That is no little space : what say'st thou, friend ?
Lx)ok yonder ! thou canst scarcely see the end :
A hundred fires along the ranks are burning.
They dance, they chat, they cook, they drink, they
court: Now where, just tell me, is there better sport ?
FAUST.
Wilt thou, to introduce us to the revel, Assume the part of wizard or of devil "i
MEPHISTOPHELES .
I 'm mostly used, 't is true, to go incognito.
But on a gala-day one may his orders show.
The Garter does not deck my suit,
But honored and at home is here the cloven foot.
Perceiv'st thou yonder snail? It cometh, slow and
steady ; So delicately its feelers pry, That it hath scented me already : I cannot here disguise me, if I try. But come ! we '11 go from this fire to a newer : I am the go-between, and thou the wooer.
( To some, who are sitting around dying embers ;)
Old gentlemen, why at the outskirts ? Enter ! I 'd praise you if I found you snugly in the centre, With youth and revel round you like a zone : You each, at home, are quite enough alone.
GENERAL.
Say, who would put his trust in nations,
Howe'er for them one may have worked and planned .?
1 88 FAUST.
For with the people, as with women, Youth always has the upper hand.
MINISTER.
They 're now too far from what is just and sage. I praise the old ones, not unduly : When we were all-in-all, then, truly, Then was the real golden age.
PARVENU.
We also were not stupid, either.
And what we should not, often did ;
But now all things have from their bases slid,
Just as we nieant to hold them fast together.
AUTHOR. "^
Who, now, a work of moderate sense will read? Such works are held as antiquate and mossy ; And as regards the younger folk, indeed, They never yet have been so pert and saucy.
MEPHISTOPHELES .jr^
{who all at once appears very old).^^'^ I feel that men are ripe for Judgment-Day, Now for the last time I 've the witches'-hill ascended Since to the lees ?ny cask is drained away, The world's, as well, must soon be ended.
HUCKSTER-WITCH.
Ye gentlemen, don't pass me thus !
Let not the chance neglected be !
Behold my wares attentively :
The stock is rare and various.
And yet, there 's nothing I 've collected —
No shop, on earth, like this you '11 find ! —
SCENE XXL 189
Which has not, once, sore hurt inflicted
Upon the world, and on mankind.
No dagger 's here, that set not blood to flowing ; "*o
No cup, that hath not once, within a healthy frame
Poured speedy death, in poison glowing :
No gems, that have not brought a maid to shame ;
No sword, but severed ties for the unwary,
Or from behind struck down the adversary.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Gossip ! the times thou badly comprehendest : What 's done has happed — what haps, is done ! 'T were better if for novelties thou sendest : By such alone can we be won.
FAUST.
Let me not lose myself in all this pother ! This is a fair, as never was another !
y MEPHISTOPHELES.
The whirlpool swirls to get above :
Thou 'rt shoved thyself, imagining to shove.
FAUST.
But who is that ?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Note her especially, T is Lilith.
FAUST.
Who?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Adam's first wife is she.'*^ Beware the lure within her lovely tresses. The splendid sole adornment of her hair !
/
I90 FAUST.
When she succeeds therewith a youth to snare, Not soon again she frees him from her jesses.
FAUST.
Those two, the old one with the young one sitting, They 've danced already more than fitting.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
No rest to-night for young or old !
They start another dance : come now, let us take hold !
FAU ST ( dancing with the young witch ) . A lovely dream once came to me ; '4^ I then beheld an apple-tree,. And there two fairest apples shone : They lured me so, I climbed thereon.
THE FAIR ONE. i "^^^^ '
Apples have been desired by you. Since first in Paradise they grew ; And I am moved with joy, to know That such within my garden grow.
MEPHISTOPHELES (dancing with the old one). A dissolute dream once came to me : Therein I saw a cloven tree.
Which had a ;
Yet, as 't was, I fancied it.
THE OLD ONE.
I offer here my best salute
Unto the knight with cloven foot !
Let him a prepare.
If him does not scare.
SCENE XXI. 10 1
PROKTOPHANTASMIST.'43
Accursed folk ! How dare you venture thus ? Had you not, long since, demonstration That ghosts can't stand on ordinary foundation ? And now you even dance, like one of us !
THE FAIR ONE {dancing).
Why does he come, then, to our ball ?
FAUST {dancing). O, everywhere on him you fall ! When others dance, he weighs the matter : If he can't every step bechatter, Then 't is the same as were the step not made ; But if you forwards go, his ire is most displayed. If you would whirl in regular gyration As he does in his dull old mill. He 'd show, at any rate, good-will, — Especially if you heard and heeded his hortation.
PROKTOPHANTASMIST.
You still are here ? Nay, 't is a thing unheard !
Vanish, at once ! We 've said the enlightening word.
The pack of devils by no rules is daunted :
We are so wise, and yet is Tegel hauntedj^
To clear the folly out, how have I swept and stirred !
'T will ne'er be clean : why, 't is a thing unheard !
THE FAIR ONE.
Then cease to bore us at our ball !
PROKTOPHANTASMIST.
I tell you, spirits, to your face,
I give to spirit-despotism no place ;
My spirit cannot practise it at alL
192
FAUST.
( The dance continues.)
Naught will succeed, I see, amid such revels ; Yet something from a tour I always save,^4s And hope, before my last step to the grave, To overcome the poets and the devils.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
He now will seat him in the nearest puddle ;
The solace this, whereof he 's most assured :
And when upon his rump the leeches hang and fuddle,
He '11 be of spirits and of Spirit cured.
(7b FaiTST, who has left the dance:)
Wherefore forsakest thou the lovely maiden. That in the dance so sweetly sang ?
FAUST.
Ah ! in the midst of it there sprang
A red mouse from her mouth — sufficient reason ! ^^
MEPHISTOPHELES.
That 's nothing ! One must not so squeamish be ; So the mouse was not gray, enough for thee. Who 'd think of that in love's selected season ?
FAUST.
Then saw I —
MEPHISTOPHELES.
What?
FAUST.
Mephisto, seest thou there, Alone and far, a girl most pale and fair .? She falters on, her way scarce knowing. As if with fettered feet that stay her going.
SCENE XXI.
I must confess, it seems to me
As if my kindly Margaret were she.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Let the thing be ! All thence have evil drawn :
It is a magic shape, a lifeless eidolon.
Such to encounter is not good :
Their blank, set stare benumbs the human blood,
And one is almost turned to stone.
Medusa's tale to thee is known.
FAUST.
Forsooth, the eyes they are of one whom, dying, No hand with loving pressure closed ; That is the breast whereon I once was lying, — The body sweet, beside which I reposed !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
'T is magic all, thou fool, seduced so easily ! Unto each man his love she seems to be.
FAUST.
The woe, the rapture, so ensnare me. That from her gaze I cannot tear me ! And, strange ! around her fairest throat A single scarlet band is gleaming. No broader than a knife-blade seeming !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Quite right ! The mark I also note.
Her head beneath her arm she '11 sometimes carry;
'T was Perseus lopped it, her old adversary.
Thou crav'st the same illusion still !
Come, let us mount this little hill ;
The Prater shows no livelier stir, "•^
VOL. I. 9 M.
193
194 FAUST.
And, if they 've not bewitched my sense, I verily see a theatre. What's going on?
SERVIBILIS.^'*^
'T will shortly recommence : A new performance — 't is the last of seven. To give that number is the custom here : 'T was by a Dilettante written. And Dilettanti in the parts appear. That now I vanish, pardon, I entreat you ! As Dilettante I the curtain raise.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
When I upon the Blocksberg meet you, I find it good : for that 's your proper place.
SCENE XXII. loy
XXII.
WALPURGIS-NIGHT'S DREAM.
Oberon and Titania's Golden Wedding. *«
INTERMEZZO.
manager.
SONS of Mieding, rest to-day ! **» Needless your machinery : Misty vale and mountain gray, That is all the scenery.
HERALD.
That the wedding golden be, Must fifty years be rounded : But the Golden give to me, When the strife 's compounded.
OBERON.
Spirits, if you 're here, be seen — Show yourselves, delighted ! Fairy king and fairy queen, They are newly plighted.
PUCK.^si
Cometh Puck, and, light of limb, Whisks and whirls in measure : Come a hundred after him, To share with him the pleasure.
194 FAUST.
And, if they ariel.^s^
I verily 86^.^^^^ ^^^^ jg heavenly-pure, What s gUg ^Qjjgs are sweet and rare ones: hough ugly faces he allure, /et he allures the fair ones.
OBERON.
Spouses, who would fain agree, Learn how we were mated ! If your pairs would loving be. First be separated !
TITANIA.
If her whims the wife control, And the man berate her. Take him to the Northern Pole, And her to the Equator !
, ORCHESTRA. TUTTI.^53
Fortissimo.
Snout of fly, mosquito-bill, And kin of all conditions. Frog in grass, and cricket-trill, — These are the musicians !
SOLO.'54
See the bagpipe on our track ! 'T is the soap-blown bubble : Hear the schnecke-schnicke-schnack Through his nostrils double !
SPIRIT, JUST GROWING INTO FORM.^SS
Spider's foot and paunch of toad, And little wings — we know 'em !
SCENE XXII.
A little creature 't will not be, But yet, a little poem.
A LITTLE COUPLE.'56
Little step and lofty leap Through honey-dew and fragrance : You '11 never mount the airy steep With all your tripping vagrance.
INQUISITIVE TRAVELLER.'S7
Is 't but masquerading play ? See I with precision ? Oberon, the beauteous fay. Meets, to-night, my vision !
ORTHODOX. ^58
Not a claw, no tail I see !
And yet, beyond a cavil.
Like " the Gods of Greece," must he
Also be a devil.
NORTHERN ARTIST.^S9
I only seize, with sketchy air. Some outlines of the tourney ; Yet I betimes myself prepare For my Italian journey.
PURIST.
My bad luck brings me here, alas ! How roars the orgy louder ! And of the witches in the mass. But only two wear powder.
YOUNG WITCH.
Powder becomes, like petticoat, A gray and wrinkled noddy;'
197
198
FA UST.
So I sit naked on my goat, And show a strapping body.
MATRON.
We 've too much tact and policy To rate with gibes a scolder ; Yet, young and tender though you be, I hope to see you moulder.
LEADER OF THE BAND.
Fly-snout and mosquito-bill, Don't swarm so round the Naked ! Frog in grass and cricket-trill, Observe the time, and make it !
WEATHERCOCK [towards one side).^^ Society to one's desire ! Brides only, and the sweetest ! And bachelors of youth and^fire. And prospects the completest !
WEATHERCOCK [towards the other side). And if the Earth don't open now To swallow up each ranter. Why, then will I myself, I vow. Jump into hell instanter !
XENIES.'^'
Us as little insects see ! With sharpest nippers flitting. That our Papa Satan we May honor as is fitting.
HENNINGS.'^^
How, in crowds together massed, They are jesting, shameless !
SCENE XXII.
They will even say, at last, That their hearts are blameless.
MUSAGETES.
Among this witches' revelry His way one gladly loses ; And, truly, it would easier be Than to command the Muses.
CI-DEVANT GENIUS OF THE AGE.
The proper folks one's talents laud : Come on, and none shall pass us ! The Blocksberg has a summit broad, Like Germany's Parnassus.
INQUISITIVE TRAVELLER.
Say, who 's the stiff and pompous man ? He walks with haughty paces : He snuffles all he snuffle can : " He scents the Jesuits' traces."
CRANE. '^^ Both clear andmuddy streams, forjoe Are good to fish and spQitjn : Ah^HhxrSTlie'pious rnan you see With even devils consorting.
WORLDLING.'^'*
Yes, for the pious, I suspect. All instruments are fitting ; * And on the Blocksberg they erect Full many a place of meeting.
DANCER.
A newer chorus now succeeds ! I hear the distant drumming.
199
2 00 FAUST.
" Don't be disturbed ! 't is, in the reeds, The bittern's changeless booming."
DANCING-MASTER.
. How each his legs in nimble trip Lifts up, and makes a clearance ! The crooked jump, the heavy skip, Nor care for the appearance.
GOOD FELLOW.^^5
The rabble by such hate are held. To maim and slay delights them : As Orpheus' lyre the brutes compelled, The bagpipe here unites them.
DOGMATIST.
I '11 not be led by any lure
Of doubts or critic-cavils :
The Devil must be something, sure, —
Or how should there be devils 1
IDEALIST.'^^
This once, the fancy wrotight in me Is really too despotic :
I must be idiotic !
REALIST.
This racking^ f uss .oil-e.verx h^i^d, It giVes me great-^vexalion ; And, for the first time, here I stand On insecure foundation.
SUPERNATURALIST.
With much delight I see the play, And grant to these their merits,
SCENE XX 11. 201
Since from the devils I also may Infer the better spirits.
SCEPTIC. '^7
The flame they follow, on and on, And think they 're near the treasure : But Devil rhymes with Doubt alone, So I am here with pleasure.
LEADER OF THE BAND.
Frog in green, and cricket-trill, Such dilettants ! — perdition ! Fly-snout and mosquito-bill, — Each one 's a fine musician 1
THE ADROIT.'^
Sanssouci^ we call the clan Of merry creatures so, then ; Go a-foot no more we can, And on our heads we go, then.
THE AWKWARD.
Once many a bit we sponged ; but now, God help us ! that is done with : Our shoes are all danced out, we trow, We 've but naked soles to run with.
WILL-O'-THE-WISPS.^^
From the marshes we appear, Where we originated ; Yet in the ranks, at once, we 're here As glittering gallants rated.
SHOOTING-STAR.
Darting hither from the sky. In star and fire light shooting, 9*
202 FAUST.
Cross-wise now in grass I lie : Who '11 help me to my footing ?
THE HEAVY FELLOWS.
Room ! and round about us, room I Trodden are the grasses : Spirits also, spirits come. And they are bulky masses.
PUCK.
Enter not so stall-fed quite. Like elephant-calves about one ! And the heaviest weight to-night Be Puck, himself, the stout one !
ARIEL.
If loving Nature at your back, Or Mind, the wings uncloses. Follow up my airy track To the- mount of roses !
ORCHESTRA. Pianissimo. Cloud and trailing mist o'erhead Are now illuminated : Air in leaves, and wind in reed, And all is dissipated. ^7°
o
SCENE XXIII.
203
XXIII. DREARY DAY.»7i
A Field. Faust. Mephistopheles.
i FAUST.
IN misery ! In despair ! Long wretchedly astray on the face of the earth, and now imprisoned! That gracious, ill-starred creature shut in a dungeon as a criminal, and given up to fearful torments ! To this has it come ! to this ! — Treacherous, contemptible spir- it, and thou hast concealed it from me ! — Stand, then, — stand ! Roll the devilish eyes wrathf ully in thy head ! Stand and defy me with thine intolerable presence! Imprisoned ! In irretrievable misery ! Delivered up to evil spirits, and to condemning, unfeeling Man ! And thou hast lulled me, meanwhile, with the most insipid dissipations, hast concealed from me her increasing wretchedness, and suffered her to go helplessly to ruin !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
She is not the first.
FAUST.
Dog ! Abominable monster I Transform him, thou Infinite Spirit ! transform the reptile again into his dog- shape, in which it pleased him often at night to scamper on before me, to roll himself at the feet of the unsus-
204
FAUST.
pecting wanderer, and hang upo his shoulders when he fell ! Transform him again into his favorite likeness, that he may crawl upon his belly in the dust before me, — that I may trample him, the outlawed, under foot ! Not the first ! O woe ! woe which no human soul can grasp, that more than one being should sink into the depths of this misery, — that the first, in its writhing death-agony under the eyes of the Eternal Forgiver, did not expiate the guilt of all others ! The misery of this ^r\ single one pierces to the very marrow of my life ; and ^"thou art calmly grinning at the fate of thousands !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Now we are already again at the end of our wits, where the understanding o^ you men runs wild. Why didst thou enter into fellowship with us, if thou canst not carry it'out? Wilt fly, and art not secure against dizziness ? Didj^e thmgt nnrgplvps ^ipon thee, or thou tliyself upon us ?
FAUST.
Gnash not thus thy devouring teeth at me ! It fills me with horrible disgust. Mighty, glorious Spirit, who hast vouchsafed to me Thine apparition, who knowest my heart and my soul, why fetter me to the felon-com- rade, who feeds on mischief and gluts himself with ruin ?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Hast thou done ?
FAUST.
Rescue her, or woe to thee ! The fearfullest curse be upon thee for thousands of ages !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Lcannot loosen the bonds of the Avenger, nor undo
SCENE XXIII. his bolts. Rescue heri.
(Faust looks around wildly.) Wilt thou grasp the thunder ? Well, that it has not been given to you, miserable mortals ! To crush to pieces the innocent respondent — that is the tyrant- fashion of reUeving one's self in embarrassments.
FAUST.
Take me thither ! She shall be free !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
And the danger to which thou wilt expose thyself.^ Know that the guilt of blood, from thy hand, still lies upon the town ! Avenging spirits hover over the spot where the victim fell, and lie in wait for the returning murderer.
FAUST.
That, too, from thee ? Murder and death of a world upon thee, monster ! Take me thither, I say, and lib- erate her !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
I will convey thee there ; and hear, what I can do ! Have I all the power in Heaven and on Earth ? I will becloud the jailer's senses : get possession of the key, and lead her forth with human hand! I will keep watch : the magic steeds are ready, I will carry you off. So much is in my power.
FAUST.
Up and away !
I
2o6 FAUST.
XXIV.
NIGHT. Open Field. '7^
(Faust and Mephistopheles speeding onward on black horses.)
w
FAUST.
HAT weave they there round the raven-stone ?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
I know not what they- are brewing and doing.
FAUST.
Soaring up, sweeping down, bowing and bending !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
A witches'-guild.
FAUST.
They scatter, devote and doom !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
On! on!
SCENE XXV. 207
XXV. DUNGEON.
FAUST {^ith a bunch of keys and a lamp, before an iron door).
A SHUDDER, long unfelt, comes o'er me; Mankind's collected \vo,€LQ'erwhelms me. here. _ She dwells within the dark, damp walls before me, And all her crimf> wag a ^Hininn dftai4 What ! I delay to free her ? I dread, once again to see her.-^ On ! my shrinking but lingers Death more near.
{^He grasps the lock : the sound of singing is heard inside.)
My mother^ the harlot^^^^
Who put me to death;
My father^ the variety
Who eaten me hath /
Little sister^ so good^
Laid my bones in the wood,
In the damp moss and clay :
Then was I a beautiful bird o* the wood;
Fly away / Fly away /
FAUST {unlocking).
She does not dream her lover listens near;
That he the rattling chain, the rusthng straw, can hear.
(He enters.)
^
2o8 FAUST,
MARGARET {hiding herself on the pallet) . Woe ! woe ! They come. O death of bitterness !
FAUST {whispering).
Hush ! hush ! The hour is come that frees thee.
MARGARET [throwing herself before him). Art thou a man, then pity my distress !
FAUST.
Thy cries will wake the guards, and they will seize thee ! {He takes hold of the fetters to unlock them.)
MARGARET {on her knees). Who, headsman ! unto thee such power Over me could give ? Thou 'rt come for me at midnight-hour : Have mercy on me, let me live ! Is 't not soon enough when morning chime has rung.?
{She rises.)
And I am yet so young, so young !
And now Death comes, and ruin !
I, too, was fair, and that was my undoing.
My love was near, but now he 's far ;
Torn lies the wreath, scattered the blossoms are.
Seize me not thus so violently !
Spare me ! What have I done to thee?
Let me not vainly entreat thee !
I never chanced, in all my days, to meet thee !
FAUST.
Shall I outlive this misery ?
SCENE XXV.
MARGARET.
209
Now am I wholly in thy might.
But let me suckle, first, my baby !
I blissed it all this livelong night ;
They took 't away, to vex me, maybe,
And now they say I killed the child outright.
And never shall I be glad again.
They sing songs about me ! 't is bad of the folk to do it
There 's an old story has the same refrain ;
Who bade them so construe it ?
FAUST {falling upon his knees). Here lieth one who loves thee ever, The thraldom of thy woe to sever.
MARGARET {flinging herself beside him).
0 let us kneel, and call the Saints to hide us ! Under the steps beside us,
The threshold under,
Hell heaves in thunder !
The Evil One
With terrible wrath
Seeketh a path
His prey to discover !
FAUST [aloud). Margaret ! Margaret !
MARGARET [attentively listening). That was the voice of my lover !
{^he springs to her feet : the fetters fall off,)
Where is he ? I heard him call me.
1 am free ! No one shall enthrall me.
V
2IO FAUST.
To his neck will I fly,
On his bosom lie !
On the threshold he stood, and Margaret ! calling,
Midst of Hell's howling and noises appalling,
Midst of the wrathful, infernal derision,
I knew the sweet sound of the voice of the vision ! '
FAUST.
'T is I !
MARGARET.
'T is thou ! O, say it once again \
{Clasping him.)
'T is he ! 't is he ! Where now is all my pain ? The anguish of the dungeon, and the chain ? 'T is thou ! Thou comest to save me. And I am saved ! — Again the street I see Where first I looked on thee ; And the garden, brightly blooming. Where I and Martha wait thy coming.
Faust {struggling to leave). Come ! Come with me !
MARGARET.
Delay, now ! So fain I stay, when thou delayest !
( Caressing him . ) FAUST.
Away, now !
If longer here thou stayest,
We shall be made to dearly rue it.
SCENE XXV. 211
MARGARET.
Kiss me ! — canst no longer do it ?
My friend, so short a time thou 'rt missing,
And hast unlearned thy kissing ?
Why is my heart so anxious, on thy breast ?
Where once a heaven thy glances did create me,
A heaven thy loving words expressed,
And thou didst kiss, as thou wouldst suffocate me —
Kiss me !
Or I '11 kiss thee !
{She emh'aces him.)
Ah, woe ! thy lips are chill,
And still.
How changed in fashion
Thy passion !
Who has done me this ill ?
[She turns away from him.)
FAUST. Come, follow me ! My darling, be more bold : I '11 clasp thee, soon, with warmth a thousand-fold ; But follow now ! 'T is all I beg of thee.
MARGARET [turning to him).
And is it thou ? Thou, surely, certainly ?
FAUST.
'T is I ! Come on !
MARGARET.
Thou wilt unloose my chain, And in thy lap wilt take me once again. How comes it that thou dost not shrink from me 'i — Say, riost thou know, my friend, whom thou mak'st free.-*
/
212 FAUST.
FAUST.
Come ! come ! The night akeady vanisheth.
MARGARET.
My mother have I put to death ;
I 've drowned the baby born to thee.
Was it not given to thee and me ?
Thee, too ! — 'T is thou ! It scarcely true doth seem ■
Give me thy hand ! 'T is not a dream !
Thy dear, dear hand ! — But, ah, 't is wet !
Why, wipe it off ! Methinks that yet
There 's blood thereon.
Ah, God ! what hast thou done ?
Nay, sheathe thy sword at last !
Do not affray me !
FAUST.
V O, let the past be past ! Thy words will slay me !
MARGARET.
No, no ! Thou must outHve us.
Now I '11 tell thee the graves to give us :
Thou must begin to-morrow
The work of sorrow !
The best place give to my mother,
Then close at her side my brother,
And me a little away.
But not too very far, I pray !
And here, on my right breast, my baby lay !
Nobody else will lie beside me ! —
Ah, within thine arms to hide me.
That was a sweet and a gracious bliss,
But no more, no more can I attain it !
I would force myself on thee and constrain it,
SCENE XXV. 213
And it seems thou repellest my kiss : And yet 't is thou, so good, so kind to see !
FAUST.
If thou feel'st it is I, then come with me !
MARGARET.
Out yonder ?
FAUST.
To freedom.
MARGARET.
If the grave is there, Death lying in wait, then come ! From here to eternal rest : No further step — no, no ! Thou goest away ! O Henry, if I could go !
FAUST.
Thou canst ! Just will it ! Open stands the door.
MARGARET.
I dare not go : there 's no hope any more.
Why should I fly ? They '11 still my steps waylay !
It is so wretched, forced to beg my living.
And a bad conscience sharper misery giving !
It is so wretched, to be strange, forsaken,
And I 'd still be followed and taken !
FAUST.
I '11 stay with thee.
MARGARET.
Be quick ! Be quick ! Save thy perishing child ! Away ! Follow the ridge
214
FAUST.
Up by the brook,
Over the bridge,
Into the wood,
To the left, where the plank is placed
In the pool!
Seize it in haste ! A 'T is trying to rise, ^ ^ '
V 'T is struggling still! ,f ^^ ^ ..
Saveit! Saveit! , . A'^^^^z-r '^^ 3 -^^,
Faust. ^ ^^^,%^ ^'^^^^''
Recall thy wanr^^Hnpr will J — tr^^' ^
One step, and thou art free at last !
MARGARET.
If the mountain we had only passed !
There sits my mother upon a stone, —
I feel an icy shiver !
There sits my mother upon a stone,
And her head is wagging ever.
She beckons, she nods not, her heavy head falls o'er ;
She slept so long that she wakes no rnore.
She slept, while we were caressing :
Ah, those were the days of blessing I
FAUST.
Here words and prayers are nothing worth ; I '11 venture, then, to bear thee forth.
MARGARET.
I No — let me go ! I '11 suffer no force I \ Grasp me not so murderously !
I I 've done, else, all things for the love of thee.
FAUST.
The day dawns : Dearest ! Dearest !
^CENE XXV. 215
MARGARET.
Day ? Yes, the day comes, — the last day breaks for me !
My wedding-day it was to be ! ^^4
Tell no one thou has been with Margaret !
Woe for my garland ! The chances
Are over — 't is all in vain !
We shall meet once again.
But not at the dances !
The crowd is thronging, no word is spoken :
The square below
And the streets overflow :
The death-bell tolls, the wand is broken.
I am seized, and bound, and delivered —
Shoved to the block — they give the sign !
Now over each neck has quivered
The blade that is quivering over mine.
Dumb lies the world like the grave !
FAUST.
O had I ne'er been born ! Goethe
MEPHISTOPHELES [appears outsit Off ! or you 're lost ere morn. Useless talking, delaying and praying My horses are neighing : The morning twilight is near.
MARGARET. .
What rises up from the thresho' He ! he ! suffer him not ! What does he want in this h He seeks me !
Thou
I
2i6 FAUST.
MARGARET.
Judgment of God ! myself to thee I give.
MEPHISTOPHELES {to FaUST).
Come ! or I '11 leave her in the lurch, and thee !
MARGARET.
Thine am I, Father ! rescue me ! Ye angels, holy cohorts, guard me,'7S Camp around, and from evil ward me ! Henry ! I shudder to think of thee.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
She is judged ! ^^^ L •pi^ VOICE [from above).
I feei She is saved !
There j.
And her h mephistopheles {to Faust.)
She beckon. Hither to me !
She slept so y^^ disappears with Faust )
She slept, wh.
Ah, those were TCE {from within^ dying away).
ry !
Here words and pra I '11 venture, then, to
I No — let me go ! I '11 s
I Grasp me not so murderoS I 've done, else, all things f(
FAUST"
The day dawns : Dearest ! Dea
NOTES
Denn bei den alten lieben Todten Braucht man Erklarung, will man Noten ; Die Neuen glaubt man blank zu verstehn, Doch ohne Dolmetsch wird's auch nicht gehn.
Goethe
(f^^
lO
INTRODUCTION.
IN a work which has been the subject of such extensive and continual comment, the passages which seem to re- quire elucidation have, for the most part, been already de- termined. At every point where the reader is supposed to be doubtful in regard to the true path, not one, but a score of tracks has been prepared for him. From the exhaustive and somewhat wearisome work of Diintzer to the latest crit- ical essay which has issued from the German press, the ref- erences in the text to contemporary events or fashions of thought have been detected ; the words of old or new coin- age have been tested and classified ; and the obscure pas- sages have received such a variety of interpretation, that they finally grow clear again by the force of contrast.
My first intention was, to give the substance of German criticism concerning both parts of Faust ; but the further I advanced, the more unprofitable appeared such a plan. The work itself grew in clearness and coherence in proportion as I withdrew from the cloudy atmosphere of its interpreters. I have examined every commentary of importance, from Schubarth (1820) and Hinrichs (1825) to Kreyssig {1866), with this advantage, at least, — that each and all have led me back to find in the author of Faust his own best com- mentator. After making acquaintance, sometimes at the
I
2 20 FAUST.
cost of much patience, with the theories of many sincere though self-asserting minds, and ascertaining what marvel- lous webs of meaning may be spun by the critic around a point of thought, simple enough in its poetical sense, I have always returned to Goethe's other works, to his correspond- ence (especially with Schiller and Zelter) and his conver- sations, sure of gaining new light and refreshment.*
I should only confuse the reader by attempting to set forth all the forms of intellectual, ethical, or theological signifi- cance which have been attached to the characters of Faust. The intention of the work, reduced to its simplest element, is easily grasped ; but if every true poet builds larger than he knows, this drama, completed by the slow accretion of sixty years of thought, may be assumed to have a vaster background of design, change, and reference than almost anything else in Literature. Like an old Gothic pile, its outline is sometimes obscured in a labyrinth of details. While, in the Notes which succeed, it will now and then be necessary for me to give the conflicting interpretations, I shall endeavor to wander from the text as little as possible, and, even when dealing with enigmas, to keep open a way past, if not through them. The embarrassing abundance of the material is somewhat diminished for me by the omis- sion of all technical or philological criticism, and my chief task will be to distinguish between those helps which all
* I am glad to find that this method, drawn from my own experience, is substantially confirmed by Mr. Lewes, who, in Yiv?, Life of Goethe (Book VI.). says: "Critics usually devote their whole attention to an exposi- tion of the Idea of Faust ; and it seems to me that in this laborious search after a remote explanation they have overlooked the more obvious and natural explanation furnished by the work itself The reader who has followed me thus far will be aware that I have little sympathy with that Philosophy of Art which consists in translating Art into Philosophy, and that I trouble myself, and him, very little with ' considerations on tht Idea.' Experience tells me that the Artists themselves had quite other objects in view than that of developing an Idea ; and experience further says that the Artist's public is by no means primarily anxious about the Idea, but leaves it entirely to the critics, — who cannot agree upon the point among themselves."
NOTES. 22 1
readers require and the points which are interesting only to special students of the work.
In many instances, I have simply illustrated the text by parallel passages. "Where I have discovered these, in Goethe's works or correspondence, they have often been of service in suggesting (in the absence of any direct evidence) the probable time when certain scenes were written, and thereby the interests or influences which may have then swayed the authoi-'s mind. The variation in tone between different parts of the work, though sometimes very delicate, is always perceptible ; and the reader to whom the original is an unknown tongue needs all the side-lights which can be thrown upon its translated forms.
The " Paralipomena" (Supplementary Fragments) to Faust have not heretofore been given by any English translator. Yet in a work of such importance we may also learn from what the author has omitted, not less than from what he has accepted. The variations made in his original design assist us to a clearer comprehension of the design itself I consider, therefore, that the passages of the " Paralipomena " have, properly, the character of explanatory notes ; and for this reason I have inserted each, as nearly as possible, in its appropriate place, instead of giving them in a body, as in the standard German edition of Goethe.
Perhaps the most satisfactory commentary on Faust would be a biography of Goethe, written with special reference to this one work. In the Chronology of Faust (Appendix II.) I have given such particulars as are necessary to the illus- tration of its interrupted yet life-long growth. It has not been found possible to combine the Notes and the Chro- nology without confusing the material ; yet the two should be taken as parallel explanations, which the reader needs to follow at the same time. In conclusion, let me beg him not to be discouraged, if, on the first reading, the meaning of some passages, and their significance as portions of an " in- commensurable " plan, — as Goethe himself characterized it, — should not be entirely clear. When he has become
22 2 FAUST.
familiar with the history of the work, and is able to overlook it as a whole, the fitness — or the unfitness — of the multi- tude of parts becomes gradually evident ; the compressed meanings expand into breadth and distinctness ; and even those enigmas which seem to defy an ultimate analysis will charm him by dissolving into new ones, or by showing him forms of thought which fade and change as he seeks to re- tain them.
NOTES
I. Dedication.
The Dedication was certainly not written earlier than the year 1797, when Goethe, encouraged by Schiller's hearty in- terest in the work, determined to complete the " Fragment " of the First Part of Faust, published in 1790. Twenty- four years had therefore elapsed since the first scenes of the work were written : the poet was forty-eight years old, and the conceptions which had haunted him in his twenty-first year seemed already to belong to a dim and remote Past. The shadowy forms of the drama, which he again attempts to seize and hold, bring with them the phantoms of the friends to whom his earliest songs were sung. Of these friends, his sister Cornelia, Merck, Lenz, Basedow, and -Gotter were dead ; Klopstock, Lavater, and the Stolbergs were estranged; and Jacobi, Klinger, Kestner, and others were separated from him by the circumstances of their lives. Gotter died in March, 1797, and, as it is evident from Goethe's letters to Schiller that he worked upon Faust only in the months of May and June, in that year, the Dedication was probably then written.
Nothing of Goethe has been more frequently translated than these four stanzas, — and nothing, I may add, is more difficult to the translator.
224 FAUST.
2. Prelude on the Stage. I am unable to ascertain precisely when this was written : from Goethe's correspondence, some inferences, which point to the year 1798, may be drawn. It is unnecessary to follow the critics in their philosophical analyses of this prelude, which is sufficiently explained by calling it a " poetic pref- ace " to the work. Goschen's edition of Goethe's works, in 1790, had not been a successful venture: the " Fragment " of Faust, although fully appreciated by the few, seemed to have made no impression upon the public, while it had been assailed and ridiculed by the author's many literary enemies. Goethe always published his poetical works without a pref- ace ; but in the " Prelude on the Stage " he makes use of the characters to contrast the Poet's purest activity with the tastes and desires of the Public, two classes of which are represented by the Manager and Merry-Andrevv The dia- logue indicates, in advance, the various elements — imagina- tion, fancy, shrewd experience, folly, and '* dramatic non- sense " — which will be woven into the work. At the same time, it indirectly admits and accounts for the author's un- popularity, and the lack of recognition which he still antici- pates.
3. The posts are set, the booth of boards cojiipleted. The " booth of boards " purposely refers to the rude, transportable puppet theatres in which Goethe first saw Faust represented. There is already a foreshadowing of some of th^., qualities of Faust and Mephistopheles in the Poet and Manager.
4. They come to look, and they prefer to stare. Goethe writes, in 1802 (" Weimarisches Hof theater'') : " One can show the public no greater respect than in forbearing to treat it as a mob. The mob hurry unprepared to the theatre, demand that which may be immediately enjoyed, desire to stare, be amazed, laugh, weep, and therefore compel the managers, who are dependent on them, to descend more or jess to their level."
NOTES.
225
5. Who offers much, brings something unto many. " One should give his works the greatest possible variety and excellence, so that each reader may be able to select something for himself, and thus, in his own way, become a participant." — Goethe to Schiller (1798).
6. This, aged Sirs, belongs to you.
It is the Poets whom the Merry-Andrew thus addresses. His assertion of the perpetual youth of Genius is not ironi- cal, but (as appears from the Manager's remarks) is intended as a compliment.
" To carry on the feelings of childhood into the powers of manhood, to combine the child's sense of wonder and nov- elty with the appearances which every day, for perhaps forty years, had rendered familiar, —
' Both sun and moon, and stars throughout the year, And man and woman,' —
this is the character and privilege of genius, and one of the marks which distinguish genius from talent." — Coleridge.
7. From Heaven, across the World, to Hell.
Goethe says to Eckermann (in 1827) : " People come and ask, what idea I have embodied in my Faust ? As if I knew, myself, and could express it! '■From Heaven, across the World, to Hell ' — that might answer, if need were ; but it is not an idea, only the course of the action."
The reference in this line, curiously enough, is to the course of action in the old Faust- Legend, not to the close of the Second Part, the scene of which is laid in Heaven, in- stead of Hell. Yet at the time when the line was written the project of the Second Part — in outline, at least — was completed. Did Goethe simply intend to keep his secret ii-om the reader?
8. Prologue in Heaven. Some of Goethe's commentators suppose that this Pro- logue was added by him, from the circumstance that the 10* O
226 FAUST.
design of Faust was not understood, in the *' Fragment " first published. It appears to have been written in June, 1797, before the " Prelude .on the Stage," and chiefly for the pur- pose of setting forth the* moral and intellectual problem which underlies the drama. Although possibly suggested by the Prologue in Hell of two of the puppet-plays, its character is evidently drawn from the interviews of Satan with the Lord, in the first and second chapters of Job. Upon this point, Goethe (in 1825) said to Eckermann : " My Mephistopheles sings a song of Shakespeare ; and why should he not ? Why should I give myself the trouble to compose a new song, when Shakespeare's was just the right one, saying exactly what was necessary .? If, therefore, the scheme of my Faust has some resemblance to that of Job, that is also quite right, and I should be praised rather than censured on account of it."
The earnest reader will require no explanation of the problem propounded in the Prologue. Goethe states it without obscurity, and solves it in no uncertain terms at the close of the Second Part. The mocking irreverence of Mephistopheles, in the presence of the Lord, although it belongs to the character which he plays throughout, seems to have given some difficulty to the early English transla- tors. Lord Leveson Gower terminates the Prologue with the Chant of the Archangels ; Mr. Blackie omits it entirely, but adds it in an emasculated form, as an Appendix ; while Dr. Anster satisfies his spirit of reverence by printing Der Herr where the English text requires, " The Lord." Coleridge's charge of '* blasphemy " evidently refers to this Prologue ; but at the time when he made the charge, Coleridge was hardly capable of appreciating the spirit in which Faust was written.
It is very clear, from hints which Goethe let fall, that he at one time contemplated the introduction into Faust of the doctrine ascribed to Origen, — that it was possible for Satan to repent and be restored to his former place as an angel of light. Falk reports Goethe as saying : " Yet even the clever Madame de Stael was greatly scandalized that I kept the
NOTES. • 227
devil in such good-humor. In the presence of God the Father, she insisted upon it, he ought to be more grim and spiteful. What will she say if she sees him promoted a step higher, — nay, perhaps, meets him in heaven ? " On another occasion, he exclaimed (if we may trust Falk) : "At bottom, the most of us do not know how either to love or to hate. They 'don't like' me! An insipid phrase! — I don't like them either. Especially when, after my death, my Walpur- gis-Sack comes to be opened, and all the tormenting Stygian spirits, imprisoned until then, shall be let loose to plague all even as they plagued me ; or if, in the continuation of Faust, they should happen to come upon a passage where the Devil himself receives Grace and Mercy from God, — that, I should say, they would not soon forgive ! "
9. Chant of the Archangels.
The three Archangels advance in the order of their dignity, as it is given in the "Celestial Hierarchy" of Dionysius Areopagita; who was also Dante's authority on this point (Paradisoy Canto XXVIII). Raphael, the inferior, com- mences, and Michael, the chief, closes the chant.
Shelley speaks of this " astonishing chorus," and very truly says : " It is impossible to represent in another lan- guage the melody of the versification : even the volatile strength and dehcacy of the ideas escape in the crucible of translation, and the reader is surprised to find a caput mor- tuumy
I shall not, however, imitate Shelley in adding a literal translation. Here, more than in almost any other poem, the words acquire a new and indescribable power from their rhythmical collocation. The vast, wonderful atmosphere of space which envelops the lines could not be retained in prose, however admirably literal. The movement of the original is as important as its meaning. Shelley's transla- tion of the stanzas, however, is preferable to Hayward's, which contains five inaccuracies.
The magnificent word Donnerga7ig — "thunder-march*
228 FAUST.
(first stanza, fourth line) — had already occurred in a fine line of one of Schiller's earliest poems, — " Elysium " : —
" Berge bebten unter dessen Donnergang."
7\ lo. Pardon, this troop I cannot follow after.
Mephistopheles here refers to the Chant of the Archan- gels. His mocking spirit is at once manifested in these lines, and in his ironical repetition of " the earliest day."
1 1 . While Man's desires and aspirations stir, He cannot choose btU err.
The original of this is the single, weil-known line : Es irrt der Mensch, so lang er strebt. It has seemed to me impossi- ble to give the full meaning of these words — that error is a natural accompaniment of the struggles and aspirations of Man — in a single line. Here, as in a few other places, I do not feel bound to confine myself to the exact measure and limit of the original. The reader may be interested in com- paring some other versions : —
Hayward. — Man is liable to error, while his struggle lasts.
Anster. t- Man's hour on Earth is weakness, error, strife.
Brooks. — Man errs and staggers from his birth.
SWANWICK. — Man, while he striveth, is prone to err.
Blackie. — Man must still err, so long he strives.
Martin. — Man, while his struggle lasts, is prone to stray.
Beresford. — Man errs as long as lasts his strife.
Birch. — Man 's prone to err in acquisition. (!)
Blaze. — L'homme s'egare, tant qu'il cherche son but.
\J 12. A good man, through obscurest aspiration,
Has still an instinct of the one true way. In these lines the direction of the plot is indicated. They suggest, in advance, its moral dhiouement, at the close of the Second Part. Goethe, on one occasion, compared the " Prologue in Heaven " to the overture of Mozart's Don Giovanni, in which a certain musical phrase occurs which is
NOTES. 229
not repeated until the ^na/e ; and his comparison had refer- ence to the idea expressed in these lines.
13. But ye, God''s sons in love and duty, *Here the Lord, turning away from Mephistopheles, sud- denly addresses the Archangels and the Heavenly Hosts. The expression Das Werdende, in the third following line, which I have translated " Creative Power," means, literally, " that which is developing into being." Shelley, who was not, and did not pretend to be, a good German scholar, en- tirely misses the meaning of the closing quatrain, notwith- standing he avoids the rhymed translation. His lines, " Let that which ever operates and hves Clasp you within the limits of its love ; And seize with sweet and melancholy thought The floating phantoms of its loveliness,"
have nothing of the suggestive force and fulness of the origi- nal.
Hayward quotes, apparently from a private letter, Carlyle's interpretation of the passage : " There is, clearly, no trans- lating of these lines, especially on the spur of the moment ; yet it seems to me that the meaning of them is pretty dis- tinct. The Lord has just remarked, that man (poor fellow) needs a devil, as travelling companion, to spur him on by means of Denial ; whereupon, turning round (to the angels and other perfect characters), he adds, ' But ye, the genuine sons of Heaven, joy ye in the living fulness of the beautiful (not of the logical, practical, contradictory, wherein man toils imprisoned) : let Being (or Existence), which is everywhere a glorious birth, into higher being, as it forever works and lives, encircle you with the soft ties of love ; and whatsoever wavers in the doubtful empire of appearance ' (as all earthly things do), ' that do ye, by enduring thought, make firm.' Thus would Das Werdende, the thing that is a-being, mean no less than the mii verse (the visible universe) itself ; and I paraphrase it by ' Existence, which is everywhere a birth, into higher Existence,' and make a comfortable enough kind of sense out of that quatrain."
230 FAUST.
The intention of the passage, we might suppose, is suffi- ciently clear. It was Goethe's habit, as an author, to quietly ignore the conventional theology of his day : yet Mr. He- raud insists that " The Lord " of the Prologue is the Sec- ond Person of the Trinity, and that the four lines cdfci- mencing with Das Werdende are simply another form of invoking " the fellowship of the Holy Ghost ! " The unusual construction of these lines — the first half implying a benediction, and the second half a command — has been retained in the translation.
14. Faust's Monologice.
This scene, from its commencement to the close of Wag- ner's interview with Faust, was probably written as early as 1773. In style, as well as in substance, it suggests the pup- pet-play rather than the published Faust legend. In Wahr- heit und Dicktung, Goethe says, in describing his intercourse with Herder, in Strasburg (1770) : " The puppet-play echoed and vibrated in many tones through my mind. I, also, had gone from one branch of knowledge to another, and was early enough convinced of the vanity of all. I had tried life in many forms, and the experience had left me only the more unsatisfied and worried. I now carried these thoughts about with me, and indulged myself in them, in lonely hours, but without committing anything to writing. Most of all, I concealed from Herder my mystic-cabalistic chemistry, and everything connected with it."
The text of various puppet-plays, which has been recov- ered by Simrock, Von der Hagen, and other zealous German scholars, enables us to detect the source of Goethe's concep- tion, — the original corner-stone whereupon he builded. In the play, as given in Ulm and Strasburg, there is a brief Prologue in Hell, in which Pluto orders the temptation of Faust. Notwithstanding the variation of the action in the different plays, the opening scene possesses very much the same character in all of them. As performed by Schiitz, about the beginning of this century, Faust is represented as seated at a table, upon which lies an open book. His
NOTES.
231
soliloquy commences thus : " With all my learning, I, Johannes Faust, have accomplished just so much, that I must blush with self-shame. I am ridiculed everywhere, no one reads my books, all despise me. How fain am I to become more perfect ! Therefore I am rigidly resolved to instruct myself in necromancy."
In Geisselbrecht's puppet-play, Faust also sits at a table and turns over the leaves of a book. He says : " I seek for learning in this book and cannot find it. Though I study all books from end to end, I cannot discover the touchstone of wisdom. O, how unfortunate art thou, Faust! I have all along thought that my luck must change, but in vain
0 Fatherland ! thus thou rewardest my industry, my labor, the sleepless nights I have spent in fathoming the mysteries of Theology ! But, no ! By Heaven, I will no longer delay,
1 will take upon myself all labor, so that I may penetrate into that which is concealed, and fathom the mysteries of nature ! "
In the Augsburg puppet-play, Faust exclaims : " I, too, have long investigated, have gone through all arts and sciences. I became a Theologian, consulted authorities, weighed all, tested all, — polemics, exegesis, dogmatism. All was babble : nothing breathed of Divinity ! I became a Jurist, endeavored to become acquainted with Justice, and learned how to distort justice. I found an idol, shaped by the hands of self-interest and self-conceit, a bastard of Justice, not herself. I became a Physician, intending to learn the human structure, and the methods of supporting it when it gives way ; but I found not what I sought, — I only found the art of methodically murdering men. I became a Philosopher, desiring to know the soul of man, to catch Truth by the wings and Wisdom by the forelock ; and I found shadows, vapors, follies, bound into a system ! "
The reader is referred to the " Faust-Legend " (Appen- dix I.) for further information concerning these plays. I have given the above quotations, to indicate Goethe's start- ing-point — wl|ich is also his point of divergence — from the popular story.
232 FAUST.
I have also added the opening scene of Marlowe's " Faus- tus " (Appendix III.) for the sake of convenient compari> son.
15. Fly ! Up, and seek the broad, free land !
" Moreover, there are forces which increase one's produc^ tiveness in rest and sleep ; but they are also found in mOve- ment. There are such forces in water, and especially in the atmosphere. In the fresh air of the open fields is where we properly belong ; it is as if the Spirit of God is there imme- diately breathed upon man, and a divine power exercises its influence over him." — Goethe to Eckermann ( 1828).
a4r
16. From Nostradamus' very hand. The astrologer Nostradamus (whose real name was Michel de Notre-Dame) was born at St. Remy, in Provence, in the year 1503. At first celebrated as a physician, he finally devoted himself to astrology, and published, in 1555, a collection of prophecies in rhymed quatrains, entitled Les Prophecies de Michel Nostradamus, which created an imme- diate sensation, and found many believers ; especially as the death of Henry II. of France seemed to verify one of his mystical predictions. He was appointed physician to Charles IX. and continued the publication of his prophe- cies, asserting, however, that the study of the planetary aspects was not alone sufficient, but that the gift of second- sight, which God grants only to a few chosen persons, is also necessary. He died in the year 1566; and even as late as the year 1781 his prophecies were included in the Roman Index Expurgatorius, for the reason that they declare the downfall of the Papacy.
1 7 . The Sign of the Macrocosm . The term " Macrocosm " was used by Pico di Mirandola, Paracelsus, and other mystical writers, to denote the uni- verse. They imagined a mysterious correspondence between the Macrocosm (the world in large) and the Microcosm (the world in little), or Man ; and most of the astrological theo- ries were based on the influence of the former upon the latter.
NOTES.
233
From some of Goethe's notes, still in existence, we learn that during the time when the conception of Faust first occupied his mind (1770- 73), he read Welling's Opics Mago- Cabbalisticum^ Paracelsus, Valentinus, the Aurea Catena Ho- meri, and even the Latin poet Manilius.
Mr. Blackie, in his Notes, quotes a description of the Macrocosm from a Latin work of Robert Fludd, published at Oppenheim in 1619; but the theory had already been given in the Heptaplus of Pico di Mirandola (about 1490). The universe, according to him, consists of three worlds, the earthly, the heavenly, and the super-heavenly. The first includes our planet and its enveloping space, as far as the orbit of the moon ; the second, the sun and stars ; the third, the governing Divine influences. The same phenom- ena belong to each, but have different grades of manifesta- tion. Thus the physical element of fire exists in the earthly sphere, the warmth of the sun in the heavenly, and a seraphic, spiritual fire in the empyrean ; the first burns, the second quickens, the third loves. " In addition to these three worlds (the Macrocosm)," says Pico, " there is a fourth (the Microcosm), containing all embraced within them. This is Man, in whom are included a body formed of the elements, a heavenly spirit, reason, an angelic soul, and a resemblance to God."
The work of Cornelius Agrippa, De Occulta Philosophia, which was also known to Goethe, contains many references to these three divisions of the Macrocosm, and their recip- rocal influences. The latter are described in the passage commencing : ** How each the Whole its substance gives ! "
Hayward quotes, as explanatory of these lines, the follow- ing sentence from Herder's Ideen zicr Philosophie der Ge- schichte der Menschhei: : " When, therefore, I open the great book of Heaven, and see before me this measureless palace, which alone, and everywhere, the Godhead only has power to fill, I conclude, as undistractedly as I can, from the whole to the particular, and from the particular to the whole."
The four lines which Faust apparently quotes ("What says the sage, now first I recognize") are not from Nostra-
FAUST.
234 I^/lU^il. \
\ damus. They may possibly have been suggested by some- \
thing in Jacob Boehme's first work, " Aurora, or the Rising \
Dawn," but it is not at all necessary that they should be an
actual quotation.
18. The Sign of the Earth- Spirit.
" The Archaeus of the Orphic doctrine, the spirit of the elementary world, of the powerful, multiformed earthly uni- verse, to which Faust feels himself nearer." — Diintzer.
" The mighty and multiform universality of the Earth itself." — Falk.
*' But few succeed in calling up, that is to say, grasping in inspired contemplation, — the Earth- Spirit, the spirit ofi History, of the movement of the human race ; and still fewer is the number of those who can endure the ' form of flame,' — whose individuality i^'Sirong enough not to be swallowed up in it." — Kreyssigr'
19. In the tides of Life, in Action^ s storm. This chant of the Earth-Spirit recalls the " Creative Power which eternally works and lives " in the Prologue in Heaven. The closing line may have been suggested by a passage in the work, De Sensu Rerum, of the Dominican monk, Campa- nella : " Mundus ergo totus est sensus, vita, anima, corpus statua Dei altissimi.'" The " living garment of the Deity," however, is a much finer expression. The Spirit's chant probably lingered in Shelley's memory, when he wrote : —
" Nature's vast frame — the web of human things, Birth and the grave."
20. O Death ! — / know it — '/ is my Famulus ! The Latin word famulus (servant) was applied, in the Middle Ages, to the shield-bearers of the knights, and also to persons owing the obligation of service to thd fevidal lords. The Famulus of Faust, however, is at the same time a student, an amanuensis, an assistant in his laboratory, and a servitor, in the academic sense. The term is still applied,
NOTES.
235
in the German Universities, to those poor students who fill various minor offices for the sake of eking out their means by the small salaries attached to them.
21. Wagner.
The name — and perhaps also the primal suggestion of the character — of Faust's Famulus is taken from the old legend, in which Christopher Wagner (see Appendix I.), after Faust's tragic end, succeeds to his knowledge and en- ters on a similar, if not so brilliant a career.
It is an interesting coincidence that one of Goethe's early associates, during his residence in Strasburg and Frankfort, was Heinrich Leopold Wagner (who died in 1779), and who was also an author. Goethe not only read to him the early scenes of Faust^ but imparted to him, in confidence, the fate of Margaret, as he meant to develop it ; and Wagner was faithless enough to make use of the material for a tragedy of his own — The Infanticide — which was published in 1776. Schiller's poem, with the same title (apparently sug- gested by Wagner's play), and Biirger's ballad of "The Pastor of Taubenheim's Daughter," in which the subject is very similar, were both written in the year 1781.
According to Hinrichs, Faust represents Philosophy, and Wagner Empiricism. Duntzer calls the latter " the repre- sentative of dead pedantry, of knowledge mechanically ac- quired " ; while other critics consider that he sYr"boli?'Ps the Philistine elementiOu-Gfirman life, — the hopelessly material, prosaic, and cqmnmnplace. Deycks says of Wagner : " His thoroughly prosaic nature forms the sharpest contrast to Faust, and it is impossible for him to enter into any rela- tion with Mephistopheles, because he restricts himself to beaten tracks, and is repelled by all tricksy wantonness, even by all fresh, natural indulgence. He is the driest caricature of pure rational, formal knowledge, without living thought or poetry, and especially without religion."
It was probably enough for Goethe that Wagner furnishes a dramatic contrast of character, — a foil to the boundless ideal cravings of Faust. He betrays his nature in the very
236 FAUST.
first words he utters, and is so admirably consistent through- out, that the reader is never at a loss how to interpret him.
22. Where ye for men twist shredded thought like paper.
This line, which reads, literally, "In which ye twist (or curl) paper-shreds for- mankind," has been curiously mis- understood by most translators. The article der before Menschheit was supposed by Hayward to be in the genitive instead of the dative case, and he gives the phrase thus : " in which ye crisp the shreds of humanity " ! Blackie even says " the shavings of mankind," and most of the other English versions repeat the mistake, in one or another form. In the French of Blaze and Stapfer, however, the reading is correct. Goethe employs the word Schnitzel (shreds or clippings) as a contemptuous figure of speech for the manner in which thought is presented to mankind in the discourses described by Faust. Therefore by using the expression "shredded thought " in English, the exact sense of the original is pre- served.
23. Ah., God! but Art is long.
Goethe was very fond of using the " ars longa, vita brevis " of Hippocrates. It occurs again in Scene IV., where he puts it into the mouth of Mephistopheks. The American reader is already familiar with the phrase, from Mr. Long- fellow's beautiful application of it, in his " Psalm of Life."
24. Or, at the best, a Punch-and-Judy play. The German phrase, Haupt-und Staats-action, was applied, about the end of the seventeenth century, to the popular puppet-plays which represented famous passages of history. It seems to have been, originally, a form of announcement invented by some proprietor of a wandering puppet-theatre, and may therefore be equivalently translated, as a " First- Class Political Performance ! " The phrase was afterwards applied to plays acted upon the stage, and Goethe even makes use of it to designate Shakespeare's historical dramas. In the puppet-plays the heroic figures (Alexander, Pompey,
NOTES.
237
Charlemagne, etc.) were in the habit of uttering the most grandiloquent, oracular sentences ; they were as didactic in speech as they were reckless and melodramatic in action.
The word pragmatical, which I have adopted as it stands in the original, has a somewhat different signification in Ger- man. It indicates — here, at least — a pedantic assumption and ostentation, in addition to the sense of meddlesome inter- ference which it possesses in English.
25. Have evermore been crucified and burned.
" There were need," said I, " of a second Redeemer com- ing, to deliver us from the austerity, the discomfort and the tremendous pressure of the circumstances under which we live."
" If he should come," Goethe answered, " the people would crucify him a second time." — Goethe to Eckermann, 1829.
26. That so our learned talk might be extended.
In " Faust : a Fragment," published in 1790, Wagner's conversation terminates with this line. The first four lines of Faust's following soliloquy are then added, and the scene suddenly ends. Then we abruptly break upon the conver- sation between FausKand Mephistopheles, in Scene IV., at
the line,
" And all of life for all mankind created."
The remainder of the Monologue, the scene before the city- gate, the first scene in Faust's study, and all of the second as far as the line just quoted, were first published in the completed edition of 1808. It is very certain, however, that portions of these omitted scenes were written before 1790, and were then withheld on account of their incompleteness.
27. A thunder-word hath swept me from my stand.
Faust here refers to the reply of the Earth-Spirit : —
"Thou 'rt like the spirit which thou comprehendest, Not me ! "
The overwhelming impression produced upon him by this
238
FAUST.
phrase is only suspended during Wagner's visit, and now works with renewed force upon his morbid mood, until it swells to a natural climax.
28. And here and there one happy man sits lonely. In the conversations of Goethe, recorded by Eckermann, Riemer, and Falk, he more than once, in referring to his early impressions of life, repeats the pessimistic idea con- tained in these lines. This was one of the causes which stirred in him the resolution to achieve, as far as possible, his own independent development. The subjective charac- ter of the early scenes of Faust is so clearly indicated that we should have recognized it without Goethe's admission. In 1826, he said to Eckermann : " In Werther and Faust, I was obliged to delve in my own breast ; for the source of that which I communicated lay near at hand."
29. Sought once the shining day, and then in twilight dull. The two adjectives in this line are leicht (easy, buoyant) and schwer (heavy). Hartung thinks that the former is a misprint for licht (shining, bright) ; but he is evidently mis- taken, since the adjectives are chosen to express opposite qualities, and the phrase lichten Tag occurs in the sixth line following, I have chosen English words which are not pre- cisely literal, but, by their antithetic character, convey a similar meaning.
30. Earn it anew, to really possess it ! It was a favorite maxim of Goethe that no man can really possess that which he has not personally acquired. He considered his own inherited wealth and the many opportu- nities qf his life as means, the value of which must be meas- ured by the results attained by their use. On one occasion he said : " Every bon mot which I have uttered, has cost me a purse of money ; half a million of my private property has run through my hands, to enable me to learn what I know — not only the entire estate of my father, but also my salary and my considerable literary income for more than fifty
NOTES.
239
years." At the close of the Second Part, he makes the aged Faust say : —
" He only earns his freedom and existence, Who daily conquers them anew."
31. On earth's fair sun I turn my back. Here, again, Goethe recalls a phase of his own psychologi- cal experience, which he describes at some length in Wahr- heit und Dichtung {Book XIII.). Even before Jerusalem's suicide at Wetzlar had furnished him with the leading idea of Werther, he had been drawn, by what he calls the gloomy element in English literature, — especially by Hamlet, Young's Night Thoughts, and the melancholy rhapsodies of Ossian, —^ to study the phenomena of self-murder and apply them, in imagination, to himself Among all the instances with which he was acquainted, none seemed to him nobler than that of the Emperor Otho, who, after a cheerful banquet with his friends, thrust a dagger into his heart. " This was the only deed," he says (and in what follows, I suspect, there is as much Dichtung as Wahrheit), " which seemed to me worthy of imitation, and I was convinced that one who could not act like Otho had no right to go voluntarily out of the world. Through this conviction I rescued myself both from the intention and the morbid fancy of suicide, which haunted an idle youth in those fair times of peace. I possessed a tolerable collection of weapons, wherein there was a valuable, keen-edged dagger. This I placed con- stantly beside my bed, and, before putting out the light, endeavored to try whether it was possible to pierce my breast, an inch or two deep, with the sharp point. Since^ however, the experiment never succeeded, I finally laughed at myself, discarded all hypochondric distortions of fancy, and determined to live."
32. Chorus of Angels. In this first chorus I have been forced, by the prime neces- sity of preserving the meaning, to leave the second line un-
240 FAUST.
rhymed. The word schleichenden, in the fourth line, which I have endeavored to express by "clinging" (Hayward has " creeping," Blackie " through his veins creeping," and Dr. Hedge "trailing"), is nearly equivalent to the English phrase " dogging one's steps." The first of the three Angelic Choruses rejoices over Christ's release from Mortality, the second exalts him as the " Loving One," and the third cele- brates his restoration to the Divine creative activity.
Goethe heard a similar chant sung by the common people in Rome, in the year 1788; but his immediate model was undoubtedly the German Easter-hymn of the Middle Ages, many variations of which are given in Wackernagel's work. One of these, dating from the thirteenth century, thus com- mences : —
" Christus ist erstanden
gewaerliche von dem tot,
von alien sinen Banden
ist er erledigot."
[Christ is arisen verily from death ; From all his bonds is he released.]
The universal Easter greeting, at this day, among the Greeks, is Christos aneste ! and the answer : alethos aneste ! The same custom prevails throughout Russia, and in some parts of Catholic Germany.
In 1772, Goethe, writing to Kestner on Christmas Day, says : " The watchman on the tower trumpeted his hymn and awakened me : Praised be thou, Jesus Christ ! I dearly love this time of the year, and the hymns that are sung."
33. And prayer dissolved me in a fervent bliss. Again Goethe recalls his own early memories. These lines describe the religious exaltation excited in his boyish nature by Fraulein von Klettenburg, whom he has intro- duced into Wilhelm Meister (Book VI.), in the " Confessions of a Fair Spirit." The above line suggests a passage of this episode : " Once I prayed, out of the depth of my heart :
NOTES.
241
* now, Almighty One, give me faith ! ' I was then in the condition in which one must be, but seldom is, when one's prayers may be accepted by God. Who could paint what I then felt ! A powerful impulse drew my soul to the Cross, on which Jesus perished. Thus my soul was near to Him who became Man and died on the Cross, and in that mo- menv. I knew what faith is. ' This is faith ! ' I cried, and sprang up, almost as in terror. For such emotions as these, all words fail us."
34. Is He, in glow of birth. Rapture creative near ?
These two lines, in the original, are a marvel of com- pressed expression. The closest literal translation is : " Is He, in the bliss of developing into (higher) being, near to the joy of creating," — that is, the bliss of being born into the higher life to which He has ascended is scarcely less than the joy of the Divine creative activity. The Disciples, left behind and still sharing the woes of Earth, bewail the beatitude which parts Him from them.
The final Chorus of the Angels, which follows, is a stum- bling-block to the translator, on account of its fivefold dac- tylic rhyme. The lines are, literally : —
Actively praising him, ^
Manifesting love, Brotherly giving food, Preaching, travelling, Promising blessedness, To you is tlie Master near, To you, He is here !
In order to retain the rhyme, I have been obliged to express a little more prominently the idea of " Inasmuch as ye have done it unto the least of one of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me," — which is implied in the original. Dr. Hedge, I believe, is the only one who has hitherto endeav- ored to reproduce the difficult structure of this Chorus. He thus translates the five rhymes : —
VOL. I. II P
242 FAUST.
" Active ill charity Praise him in verity ! His feast, prepare it ye ! His message, bear it ye ! His joy, declare it ye ! "
35. Before the City-Gate. Goethe's landscapes, like those of an artist, were always drawn from real studies ; * and some of his commentators, therefore, have tried to discover the original of this scene. Strasburg, Frankfurt, and even Weimar, have been sug- gested ; but the first of these places, on the level plain of the Rhine, does not fit the description ; while, judging from internal evidence, the opening of the scene must have been written before Goethe's migration to Weimar. Such fea- tures as the river and vessels, the ferry, the suburban places of resort, and the view of the town from a neighboring height, indicate Frankfurt ; and the gay, motley life of the multitude is another point of resemblance.
36. 'Tis true, she showed me, on Saint Andreiv's Night.
St. Andrew's Night is the 29th of November. It is cele- brated, in some parts of Germany, by forms of divination very similar to those which are practised in Scotland on Hallow E'en (October 31st). The maidens, as in Keats's Eve of St. Agnes, believe that by calling upon St. Andrew, naked, before getting into bed, the future sweetheart will appear to them in a dream. Another plan is, to pour melted lead through the wards of a key wherein there is the form of a cross, into a basin of water fetched between eleven o'clock and midnight : the cooling lead will then take the form of tools which indicate the trade of the destined lover.
37. She showed me ?nine, in crystal clear. A magic crystal, sometimes in the form of a sphere, but
* The scene of his Elective Affinities, for instance, has recently been discovered at Wilhelmsthal, near Eisenach. Not only the castle, park, and lake, but even the wood-paths and the minutest features of the sur- founding landscape, are described with almost topographical exactness.
NOTES. 243
frequently, no doubt, as a lens, was employed for the pur- pose of divination. The methods, in fact, were varied to suit the superstition which employed them. In Pictor's " Varieties of Ceremonial Magic " (given in Scheible's Klos- ter), twenty-seven forms of divination are described at length, but Crystallomancy is not among them. The ancients em- ployed between forty and fifty different methods.
38. Released from ice are brook and river.
If this passage was not added, or at least re-written, be- tween 1797 and 1808, — as is possible, — it is interesting as one of the first evidences of Goethe's interest in Color, an interest which finally developed into a passion, and quite deceived him in regard to the importance of his observations. His Farbenlehre (Science of Colors) was commenced in 1790 and completed in 1805, the year of Schiller's death, although it was not published for four or five years afterwards. Either, therefore, the allusions to color in this early scene harmo- nized with the author's later views, or they were afterwards changed for the sake of harmony.
39. All for the dance the shepherd dressed.
There is a reference to this song of the shepherds in Wil- helm Meister (Apprenticeship), where Philine says: "'Old man, dost thou know the melody : " All for the dance the shepherd dressed " ? ' ' Oh, yes,' he replied, * if you will sing and represent the song, I shall not fail in my part.' Philine arose and stood in readiness. The old man struck up the melody, and she sang a song which we cannot communicate to our readers, because they perhaps might find it absurd or even improper." This portion of Wilhelm Meister was published in 1795, which is another evidence of the early origin of the scene. The graceful measure of the song, which nevertheless expresses the roughest realism of Ger- man peasant-life, can only be approximately given in another language.
This episode, also, is suggested by Goethe's earliest mem- ories of the various popular festivals in Frankfurt. In Wahr-
244 FAUST.
heit und Dichtung (Book I.), he says : " On the right bank of the Main, below the city, there is a sulphur spring, neatly enclosed, and surrounded with immemorial linden-trees. Not far from it stands the ' Good People's Hall,' formerly an hospital, built on account of this spring. The cattle of the neighborhood were brought together upon the adjoining commons, on a certain day of the year, and the herdsmen, with their maidens, had a rural festival, with dances and songs, with merriment and rough pranks. . . . The nurses and maids, who are always ready to treat themselves to a walk, never failed, from our earliest years, to take us with them to such places, so that these country diversions are among the very first impressions which I now recall.''
40. Sir Doctor, it is good of you. It is very rarely that the first and third lines of a quatrain are unrhymed in German. I have no doubt that Goethe in- tended to represent, by a less musical verse, the more pro- saic nature and speech of the common people. The words he employs in the two addresses of the Old Peasant are the simplest and plainest ; the tone of the verse is entirely that of prose.
41. Then also yon, though but a youth. Diintzer conjectures that Goethe derived the idea of this helpful activity of Faust, upon which rests the episode with the peasants, from the history of Nostradamus. In the year 1525, when the latter was twenty-two years old, Provence was devastated by a pestilence. The young physician went boldly from house to house, through the villages, and saved the lives of many of the sick, himself escaping all infection.
42. There was a Lion red, a wooer daring. The jargon of the mediaeval alchemists, from Raymond LuUy to Paracelsus, is used in this description. The system taught that all substances, especially metals, had either mas- culine or feminine qualities, as well as inherent affinities and antipathies. Campanella's doctrine, that all the elements of
NOTES.
245
matter were endowed with sense and feeling, was very gen- erally adopted by his successors in the art. Goethe drew his description of the preparation of the panacea partly from Paracelsus, and partly from Welling's Opus Mago-Cabbalis- ticum.
The *' Lion red " is cinnabar, called a " wooer daring " on account of the action of quicksilver in rushing to an intimate union (an amalgam) with all other metals. The Lily is a preparation of antimony, which bore the name oi Ltlhini Para- celsi. Red, moreover, is the masculine, and white the femi- nine color. The alembic containing these substances was first placed in a "tepid bath" — a vessel of warm water — and gradually heated ; then " tormented by flame unsparing" ("open flame," in the original), the two were driven from one " bridal chamber " to another, — that is, their wedded fumes were forced, by the heat, from the alembic into a glass retort. If then, the " young Queen," the sublimated com- pound of the two substances, appeared with a brilliant color — ruby or royal purple being most highly esteemed — in the retort, "this was the medicine." The product reminds us of calomel, which is usually formed by the sublimated union of mercury and chlorine.
43. If there be airy spirits near. In his conversations, Goethe more than once speaks of his youthful belief in spirits, even relating circumstances when be fancied their presence was manifested to him ; and Riemer considers that this passage is simply an expression of such belief Diintzer, on the other hand, insisted that Faust refers to the sylphs, or spirits of the air, as they were recognized in the theories of the alchemists. I think it much more probable that the following passage, from the Faust- legend in its oldest form (Frankfurt, 1587), lingered in Goethe's memory. Faust says to Mephistopheles : " My servant, declare what spirit thou art ! " The spirit answered and said : " / am a spirit, and a flying spirit, potently ruling under the heavens ! " In the four lines of the text, followed by the wish for a magic mantle (such as Mephistopheles
246 FAUST.
afterwards furnishes), Faust unconsciously invokes the spirit which is already lying in wait for him, and which, thus invited, appears immediately in the form of a black dog. Wagner, however, who comprehends nothing but the dry lore with which he is crammed, sees in Faust's words only a reference to the weather-spirits, and thereupon pompously airs his own knowledge of the latter.
The expression, in the preceding couplet, that one part of Faust's dual spirit sweeps upwards " into the high ancestral spaces," suggests, equally, a passage in the Augsburg pup- pet-play. He is there made to exclaim : " Invisible Spirits, receive me ! I soar to your dominion. Yes, I will lift my- self out of this wretched atmosphere, which is only for com- mon men! "
44. Swift from the North the spirit-fangs so sharp.
The belief in evil spirits inhabiting the nether regions of the atmosphere is very ancient. Paul calls Satan " the prince of the power of the air " [Ephesians ii. 2), and thus gives Christian currency to a much older superstition. In the poem Zodiacus Vitas, of Marcellus Palingenius (written about the year 1527), the different atmospheric demons are minute- ly described. Their names are Typhurgus (iMist-bringer), Aplestus (the Insatiable), Philokreus (Lover of Flesh), and Miastor (the Befouler). Wagner's classification indicates the effects of the four winds upon the weather and the hu- man frame. In Germany, the east wind is dry and keen, and the west wind brings rain.
Hayward, in his Notes, quotes the following additional authorities : —
" The spirits of the aire will mix themselves with thun- der and lightning, and so infest the clyme where they raise any tempest, that soudainely great mortality shall ensue to the inhabitants." — Pierce Pennilesse his Supplica- . tion, 1592.
" The air is not so full of flies in summer, as it is at all ■»:imes of invisible devils : this Paracelsus stiffly maintains." •— Burton, Anat., Part I.
NOTES.
247
45. Seest thou ihe black dog coursing there, through corn and stubble ?
The appearan:e of Mephistopheles in the form of a dog is a part of the old legend. Manlius, in the report of his con- versation with Melancthon, quotes the latter as having said : " He (Faust) had a dog with him, which was the Devil." The theologian, Johann Gast, in his Sermones Conviviales, describes a dinner given by Faust at Basle, at which he was present, and remarks : " He had also a dog and a horse with him, both of which I believe were devils, for they were able to do everything. Some persons told me that the dog frequently took the shape of a servant and brought him food." In some of the early forms of the legend the name of the dog is given as Prcestigiar : he is described in Widmann as large, shaggy, and black, but in other versions he is of a dark red color. The Wagner-legends all agree in giving the latter, as attendant, an evil spirit in the form of a monkey, whom he called Auerhahn (moor-cock).
Burns, in Tarn O' Shunter, says : —
" A winnock -bunker in the east, There sat auld Nick, in shape o' beast, A towzie tyke, black, grim, and large. "
46. ^Tis written : '* In the Beginning was the Word."
" I need hardly point out to the reader how artfully the poet has managed by making Faust, in his perplexed state of mind, hit upon the most difficult passage in the whole Bible. The dissatisfaction which would thence arise would bring his mind into a fit state for listening to the suggestions of the tempter ; and thus would this precipitate spirit of discontent wrest the words of truth to his own destruction. As to the interpretations he has given us of the AOrOZ, they are as consistent and intelligible as the speculations of human reason, upon one of the most obscure subjects to which it can be directed, can be supposed to be." — Blackie, Notes to his Translation of Faust (London, 1834).
This passage is not, as Blackie supposes, a fortunate in-
248 FAUST.
spiration of Goethe. It is directly suggested by the legend In Widmann's "Veritable History of Dr. Faust" (Ham- burg, 1599) I find, in the fifteenth chapter, that Mephistoph- eles thus answers Faust's proposition to discuss with him certain questions of theology : " In so far as it concerns the Bible, which thou again art of a mind to read, there shall be no more permitted to thee than, namely : the first, second, and fifth books of Moses ; all the others, except Job, shalt thou let be ; and likewise in the New Testament thou mayst read the three Disciples that write of the deeds of Christ, that is to say, the tax-gatherer, the painter and the doctor (meaning Mattheum, Marcum and Lucam) ; but John shalt thou avoid, and I forbid also the chatterer Paul, and such others as wrote Epistles."
This prohibition of the Fourth Gospel led Goethe, at once, to the opening verse, the attempt to translate which becomes not only a source of new perplexity to Faust, but also serves to hasten the poodle's transformation. The frag- ments of Faust's soliloquy, showing that his soul is turned towards " the love of God," disturb the evil spirit incorpo- rated with the beast ; but the words of John, to which the spirit has a special antipathy, compel him to betray his presence.
The growth and terrible appearance of the poodle suggest a passage in Neumann's "Curious Observations concerning the so-called Dr. Faust " (1702). He says, on the authority of Wier, the pupil of Cornelius Agrippa : " A schoolmaster of Gosslar had learned from Faust, the magician, the formula by which certain verses may be used to imprison the Devil in a glass. In order that he might not risk being inter- rupted, he went one day into a forest ; and while he was in the midst of his invocations, the Devil came unto him in a horrible form, with fiery eyes, a nose curved like a cow's horn, with wild and fearful boar's-tusks, a rough cat's back, and every way frightful."
One of the illustrations in Widmann's book represents Mephistopheles appearing to Faust in front of the stove in the latter's study, and conversing with him over the top of a
NOTES.
249
fire-screen. The text says that Faust first became aware of the spirit as a shadow moving around the stove.
47. The Key of Solomon is good. Solomon's fame as a magician is mentioned by Josephus, and also by Origen, who was acquainted with a work on the manner of citing spirits to appear, ascribed to the Hebrew king. There seems to be no doubt that Solomon was a chief authority with the Jewish exorcists, from whom his name and some of his supposed formulae of invocation were transmitted, until we find them in the Cabbala of the Middle Ages. The Clavicula Salonionis is mentioned by Welling, Paracelsus, and other writers, and some copies have been preserved. It is claimed that the genuine original contained only instructions by which good spirits might be invoked to assist in good works, but the variations give also the method of summoning evil spirits. In Faust's Dreifacher Hollen- zwang (copied in Scheible's Kloster), the Clavicula Salo- monis is given as it was communicated to Pope Sylvester by Constantine, and translated in the Vatican, under Pope Julius II. It is called " The Necromantic Key of Solomon, or the Key to the Magic Wisdom of Solomon, and to compel the Spirits to every Manner of Service," and commences : " At first, pray (or sing) the following canticum hebraicum — Aba, zarka, maccaf, sofar, holech, {segolta), pazergadol," etc. Then follow a number of similar invocations, together with the " Seal of the highest wisdom of Solomon," — a very com- plicated figure of hexagonal form, — which must be held in the hand. Faust, as the reader will remark, employs an entirely different method of exorcism.
48. The Words of the Four be addressed. The universal belief in elementary spirits, during the Middle Ages, was a natural inheritance from the ancient faith. So much of their former half-divinity clung to them that they were assigned ar^ intermediate place between men and genuine spirits. They were supposed to have positive and unchangeable forms, of a finer, more ethereal flesh anc' II *
■SO
FA UST.
V
blood, and to be soulless, although the children born of their intercourse with human beings received human souls. They were classified, according to the element in which they lived, as Salamanders (in Fire), Undines (in Water,) Sylphs (in Air), and Gnomes (in Earth). Of these, the two latter classes were supposed to be most familiar and friendly.
Pope {Rape of the Lock), in his Dedicatory Letter to Mrs. Arabella Fermor, says, referring to the Rosicrucians : "The best account I know of them is in a French book called Le Comte de Gabalis, which, both in its title and size, is so like a novel, that many of the fair sex have read it for one by mistake. According to these gentlemen, the four elements are inhabited by spirits, which they call sylphs, gnomes, nymphs, and salamanders. The gnomes, or demons of the earth, delight in mischief ; but the sylphs, whose habita- tion is in the air, are the best-conditioned creatures imagi- nable."
In the first canto of the Rape of the Lock, the passage oc- curs : —
" For when the fair in all their pride expire. To their first elements their souls retire. The sprites of fi*ry termagants in flame Mount up, and take a salamander's name. Soft, yielding minds to water glide away. And sip, with nymphs, their elemental tea. The graver prude sinks downward to a gnome In search of mischief still on earth to roam. The light coquettes in sylphs aloft repair. And sport and flutter in the fields of air."
In the Comte de Gabalis, to which Pope refers, the four classes of the elementary spirits are very minutely described. It is there stated that they became invisible to the human race through the sin of Adam, that they are more perfect than men, " proud in appearance, but docile in reality, great lovers of science, officious towards sages, intolerant towards fools."
Faust, it will be noticed, uses /' the Words of the Four," but without effect. He then repeats the adjuration, in an< other and stronger form. Here, however, the word Kobold
NOTES. 251
(Gnome) is omitted, and Incubus, the dwarfish, tricksy, household spirit, is substituted. In German fairy-lore, there is a relationship between the two, but they are not identical. There seems to be no reason for the change ; and, as Goethe attached no great importance to the passage, the rhyme, alone, may have suggested it,
49. Now^ to undisguise thee. Hear vie exorcise thee !
The original is : " Thou shalt hear me more strongly ex- orcise ! " Suspecting that an infernal, spirit dwells in the beast, Faust makes " the sign " of the cross, and the effect is immediately manifest. Diintzer says, " He presents to him the name of Jesus," — which is certainly a misconcep- tion. Blackie quotes a passage from Cornelius Agrippa, declaring that evil spirits are affrighted by the sign of the cross.
Goethe,* also, may have remembered the verse in the Epis- tle of James (ii. 19) : " Thou believest that there is one God ; thou doest well : the devils also believe, and tremble."
50. The One, unoriginate. Here Christ is described, but not named. The four lines are, literally :
The Unoriginated,
Unuttered,
Diffused through all the Heavens,
Guiltily transpierced.
The Strong spell is now working upon the spirit ; and the further threat of " the threefold, dazzling glow " — the em- blem of the Divine Trinity — or its ancient mystic symbol, the raycid triangle, suffices to complete the exorcism.
Faust, in the old Hollenzwang, says : " Again I command thee, Spirit, by the words of might : Jesus Christ is become fiesh — therewith 1 compel thee, and bind thee, and exorcise thee here, through Lucifer and Beelzebub and all the leaders of the hellish host, whatever may be your names."
^2^^ I 51. Mephistopheles.
The original form of this name was Mephostophiles. There has been much discussion in regard to its meaning ; but DUntzer's conjecture is probably correct, — that it was im- perfectly formed by some one who knew little Greeks. .aQcl was intended to signify not laving the light. The expressions which Mephistopheles uses, in explaining his nature to Faust, would seem to indicate that this was also Goethe's under- standing of the name.
Although, in mos> of the popular Faust-stories, Mephis-
/ topheles is often referred to as " the Devil," it was well un-
\/ derstood that he was only a devil. In " Faust's Miraculous
Art and BooX qLMarvels, or the Black Raven " (j469Jt^he
powers and potentates of the Infernal Kingdom are thus
i given : King, Lucifer ; Viceroy, Belial ; Gubernatores, Satan,
Beelzebub, Astaroth, Pluto ; Chief Princes, Aziel, Mephis-
tophilis, Marbuel, Ariel, Aniguel, Anisel, and Barfael.
Goethe took only the name and a few circumstances con- nected with the first appearance of Mephistopheles from the legend : the character, from first to last, is his own creation. Although he sometimes slyly used it (though less frequently than Faust) as a mask through which to speak with his own voice, he evidently drew the germ of some characteristics from his early associate, Merck. His own strong instinct led him to avoid the danger of personifying abstract ideas, by seeking in life for all material which could give a dramatic reality to his characters ; and he did not scruple to take th^t which was nearest and most intimate.
" Merck and I," said Goethe to Eckermann, in 1831, "al- ways went together, like Faust and Mephistopheles
All his pranks and tricks sprang from the basis of a higher
culture ; but, as he was not a productive nature, — on the
contrary, he possessed a strongly marked negative te7idencyj
v/ -r-\iQ was far more ready to blame than praise, and involun-
— .^-K^ tarily sought out everything which might enable him to in-
( X dulge his habit."
In Wahrheit und Dichtung (Book XII.) Goethe gives a
NOTES.
253
careful and doubtless a correct picture of Merck's character and temperament. " This singular man," he says, " who exercised the greatest influence upon my life, was a native of Darmstadt.* When I first knew him, he was Military Paymaster there. Born with spirit and intelligence, he had acquired much admirable knowledge, especially of modern literature, and had busied himself in all directions and with all the phenomena of Man and History. He had the faculty of sharp and pointed judgment, and was esteemed both as an honest, energetic man of business, and a rapid arithmetician. Thoroughly self-possessed, he appeared everywhere as a most agreeable companion for those to whom he had not made himself dreaded by his keen, satirical speech. He was long and lean of form ; his prominent, pointed nose was a con- spicuous feature ; keen blue, perhaps gray eyes, observantly moving to and fro, gave something of the tiger to his
look
" In his character there was a remarkable contradiction. Naturally an upright, noble, worthy man, he was imbittered^ against the world, and allowed such full sway to this moodj^ peculiarity that he felt an invincible inclination to show him- self wilfully as a waggish knave, — nay, even a rogue. Calm,, reasonable, good, one moment, the next he would take a whim, like a snail thrusting out its horns, to do something which offended, aggrieved, or even positively injured another. ^f-Yet, as one is attracted to associate with something danger- ous, when one imagines himself to be secure against its at- tack, my own inclination was all the greater to live in his company and enjoy his good qualities, since I felt the most confident presentiment that he would not turn his evil side
* He was born in 1741, and was therefore eight years older than Goethe. He travelled, as a young man, with a Baron von Hibra, married a French woman in Geneva, and then settled in his native town. His literary works were chiefly translations from the English (among them, Addison's Cato), and critical and aesthetic papers in the periodicals of the day ; but his personal influence upon authors, especially Herder, Goethe, and La- vater, was very great. His domestic life was not happy, his circumstances became embarrassed, and in 1791 he committed suicide.
254
FAUST.
towards me. As, on the one hand, he disturbed society by this morally restless spirit, this continual necessity to deal with men spitefully and maliciously^ so, on the oilier Jiand^ a different unrest, which he also carefully nourished within himself, undermined his own contentment."
In Widmann's Faust-book, Mephistopheles appears in the character of a monk. In the Geisselbrecht puppet-play Faust commands him to put off his first terrible form, and says : " Thou mayst come as jurist, as doctor, or as hunter, but it were better that thou appearest as a student." In the Ulm version, when Mephistopheles asks : " In what form shall I appear.'"' Faust answers: "Like as a man." In the Strasburg play, Faust asks, after having chosen Mephis- topheles : " But why appearest thou to me under this mask ? I wished for a devil, and not one of my own race." Mephis- topheles answers : " Faust, perhaps we are then wholly dev- ils, when we resemble you ; at least, no other mask suits us better." He thereafter next makes his appearance as a pos- tilion.
Goethe's choice of the character of a travelling scholar — or, I should perhaps say, a vagabond scholar — was prob- ably dictated by the succeeding scene (IV.), which was first written. Another projected scene, given in the Par.alipo- mena (and added in a later note), furnishes additional rea- sons. The travelling scholars of the Middle Ages were a pretentious, adventurous class — the pedantic Bohemians of those days — who wandered over Europe, maintaining theses, entering into private or public discussions with equal flip- pancy, and sponging upon the universities and monasteries. The appearance of Mephistopheles in such a form is an iron- ical reflection upon Faust's devotion to learning ; yet the latter is unconscious of this, ^nd his first surprise gives way to a contemptuous laugh.
52. In names like Beelzebub, Destroyer, Father of Lies. In the original, the first of these names is given as Fliegen- gott, Fly-god. For the sake of metre, I have substituted our familiar Hebrew equivalent, Beelzebub — or, more cor-
NOTES. 255
rectly, Baalsebub. " Destroyer " and Liar, or " Father of Lies," are also familiar to us as Abaddon and Satan. Faust must be supposed to accept the orders of the infernal hie- rarchy, as given in the cabalistic writings, whence his en- deavor to identify the particular fiend whom he has invoked.
53. I am the Spirit that Denies.
In declaring himself, first, to be part of th*t power " which always wills the Bad, and always works the Good," Meph- istopheles is unexpectedly frank. His expression coincides exactly with the declaration of The Lord (see page 15), as to the service he is obliged to perform.
In the passage which follows, he is equally honest, and the above line clearly describes the part which he plays, from beginning to end. He is the Spirit of Negation, and his-V^ being exrsts through opposition to the positive Truth, and Order, and Beauty, which proceed from the never-ending creative energy of the Deity. The masks which we find him assuming in the Second Part of Faust are all explained by this necessity of Negation. His irreverence and irony are not only a part of his nature, but they are further increased by the impotence of his efforts — which he freely admits in the following passages — to disturb the Divine system.
Mephistopheles draws his theory of the primeval darkness from the Theogony of Hesiod. His reference to *' bodies " shows that he understands the physical and spiritual identity of light and life. Since we have seen that, in Widmann's Faust-book, he prohibits to Faust the reading of the Gospel of John, we may surmise a connection between his hostility to light and these verses from the first chapter of that Gos- pel : —
" In him was life ; and the life was the light of men.
" And the light shineth in darkness ; and the darkness comprehended it not."
54. From Water, Earth, and Air unfolding, A thousand germs break forth and grow. " Let men continue to worship Him who, gives the ox his
256 FAUST.
pasture, and to man food and drink, according to his need. But I worship Him, who has filled the world with such a productive energy, that, if only the millionth part became embodied in living existences, the globe would so swarm with them that War, Pestilence, Flood and Fire would be powerless to diminish them. That is my God!" — Goethe to Eckermann, 1 83 1 .
55. The wizard' s -foot that on your threshold made is. In the original, Drudenfuss. Drud, from one root with Druid, was the old German word for " wizard." The wiz- ard's-foot, or pentagram, was supposed to possess an espe- cial potency against evil spirits. It is simply a five-rayed star, thus : —
-k
f
Its efficacy undoubtedly sprang from the circumstance that it resolves itself into three triangles, and is thus a triple sym- bol of the Trinity. Paracelsus ascribes a similar, though a lesser, degree of virtue to the hexagram. Another pecul- iarity of the pentagram is, that it may be drawn complete from one point, without lifting the pencil, and therefore be- longs to those involuntary hieroglyphics which we some- times make, in moments of abstraction. Thus Tennyson, in The Brook : —
" But Katie snatched her eyes at once from mine, And sketching with her slender pointed foot Some figure like a wizard's pentagram On garden gravel, let my query pass."
56. Song of the Spirits. This remarkable chant is known in Germany (Goethe himself being, I believe, the first to so designate it) as the Einschl'dferungslied, or Lullaby. It is one of the few things
NOTES.
257
in the work which have proved to be a little too much for the commentators, and they have generally let it alone. By dropping all philosophical theories, however, and applying to it only the conditions of Poetic Art, we shall find it easily comprehensible. Faust is hardly aware (although Mephis- topheles is) that a part of his almost despairing impatience springs from the lack of all enjoyment of physical life ; and the first business of these attendant spirits is to unfold be- fore his enchanted eyes a series of dim, dissolving views — sweet, formless, fantastic, and thus all the more dangerously alluring — of sensuous delight. The pictures are blurred, as in a semi-dream : they present nothing positive, upon which Faust's mind could fix, or by which it might be startled : but they leave an impression behind, which gradually works it- self into form. The echo of the wild, weird, interlinked mel- ody remains in his soul, and he is not supposed to be con- scious of its operation, even when, in the following scene, he exclaims to Mephistopheles : —
" Let us the sensual deeps explore, To quench the fervors of glowing passion ! "
The rhythmical translation of this song — which, without the original rhythm and rhyme, would lose nearly all its value — is a head and heart breaking task. I can only say that, after returning to it again and again, during a period of six years, I can offer nothing better.
57. I come, a squire of high degree. The word Junker, which Mephistopheles uses, corre- sponds exactly with " squire," as a term of chivalry. In the text of the puppet-play, when he makes his appearance the second time, he is described as wohlgekleidet — respectably dressed. His costume on the puppet-stage was a red tunic, under a long mantle of black silk, and a cock's-feather in his hat. Goethe purposely retains this costume, because it is sufficiently appropriate to his conception of the character, which he expressly declares is too negative to be daimonic. One of the very few hints of his intention which he allowed
Q
258
FAUST.
to escape him occurs in his conversation with an English gentleman in 1825, as reported by Eckermann. " Really," said he, " I should not have advised you to read Fatist. It 's fantastic stuff, and transcends all ordinary sentiment. But, since you have begun of your own accord, without asking me, you may get through it the best way you can. Faust is so singular an individual that only a few persons can repro- duce his spiritual conditions in their own minds. Then the character of Mephistopheles, through his irony, and as the living result of a vast observation of the world, is also some- thing very difficult to comprehend."
Compare, also, the remarks of Mephistopheles to the witch, in Scene VI. : —
" Culture, which smooth the whole world licks, Also unto the Devil sticks."
58. This life of earth, whatever my attire. Would pain me in its wonted fashion. The first fragment of the Paralipomena possibly belongs here, although there is also a place for it towards the close of the scene. In the following lines, omitted alike in the editions of 1790 and 1808, Mephistopheles continues to ad- vise a change of costume : —
MEPHISTOPHELES.
When with externals thou art well endowed, All will around thee flock, and flatter ; A chap who 's not a little vain or proud, Had better hang, and end the matter.
I have not been able to find any evidence concerning the date of these rejected passages of Faust. Most of the Ger- man critics agree that the first part of the scene, withheld in the first edition, was afterwards materially altered by Goethe ; some of them even venture to point out the portions remain- ing from 1775, and those added in 1798, or later. Since, however, the slight difference of style perceptible in the text must disappear in the translation, it is not necessary to re- peat their views.
NOTES. 259
59. There, also, comes no rest to me.
" When I say, My bed shall comfort me, my couch shall ease my complaint ;
"Then thou scarest me with dreams, and terrifiest me through visions :
" So that my soul chooseth strangling, and death rather than my life." — Job vii. 13, 14, 15.
60. Chorus of Spirits.
Faust's curse, which includes even the sentiment of child- ish faith that overcame him on the Easter morning, places him, unconsciously, in the power of Mephistopheles. The Chorus of Spirits indicates, in a few powerful lines, his rup- ture with the order of life. The first words of Mephistoph- eles which follow, would lead the reader to suppose that the spirits were infernal, and thus a singular discrepancy be- tween their character and their expressions is implied. DUnt- zer says : " Their cry of woe and their lament over the beauty of the world, which Faust has shattered, together with his designation as demigod, can only be accepted as a scoffing irony of the spirits, which, equally with Mephistopheles, well know that they can give him no real compensation for the fortune which he has criminally rejected." Deycks's com- ment is less logical : " He (Faust) can only recover through his own act ; in his resolute breast, by clear intelligence, he can create a soil wherefrom new songs will shoot. The spirits allure to a life of deeds and poetry, to the broad, great world. And Mephistopheles offers himself as a guide.''''
In Leutbecher's work, however, I find a hint of what I believe to be the true intention of this Chorus. He says : " The pure spirits who direct the harmonies of existence la- ment over his (Faust's) step, and encourage him to com- mence another and fairer career. But Mephistopheles calls these voices precociously shrewd, and proposes the condi- tions of his compact, promising delights which, in advance, appear worthless to Faust." The lament is certainly not ironical ; on the contrary, the course of the drama, as it is
2 6o FAUST.
afterwards developed, is here shadowed forth by the spirits, and Mephistopheles no more comprehends them than Faust. He is deceived, as in the Fifth Act of the Second Part.
In the Augsburg puppet-play, Faust is attended by a good Genius, who, when he has .signed the compact with Mephis- topheles, exclaims : " Woe to thy miserable soul ! " and. dis- appears.
6i. A High and Low our souls await.
" Oh why must we, in order to speak of such things, use images which only represent external conditions ! Where is there anything high or low, obscure or enlightened, in His sight ? We, only, have an Above and Below, a Day and a Night. And just therein did He (Christ) resemble us, be- cause we should otherwise have no share in Him." — Wil- helm Meister [^Confessions of a Fair Spirit).
Goethe also places one of these phrases —
" KnAyou he dowers with Day and Night ! " — in the mouth of Mephistopheles, after the compact.
62. Show me the frtiits that, ere they 're gathered^ rot. This passage has given rise to a great deal of discussion. The oifer of Mephistopheles, —
" What no man ever saw, I '11 give to thee, — "
which provokes Faust's exclamation, is suggested by the puppet-play. In the Strassburg version, Mephistopheles says : " I will fill for thee the goblet of delight, full and foaming, as it never yet has been filled to any mortal."
Faust's reply seems to have puzzled many of the commen- tators, some of whom — as Deycks, Hartung, Rosencranz and Leutbecher — pass it over with slight notice, while others endeavor to analyze the meaning. The following quotations embrace the principal varieties of interpreta- tion : —
I. "I know thy rotten gifts, says Faust. Which of thy fine goods of the earth wilt thou offer me .'* How could the like of thee ever be capable of measuring the unquiet of
NOTES. 261
man's breast ? Hast thou food to serve up which never sat- isfies ? Or canst thou only show trees which daily bloom anew and bud again ? I loathe this foliage of yesterday, this tale which, ever the same, is told in the morning, and in the evening dies away again — * show me the fruit that rots be- fore it is gathered, and trees that daily renew their green ! ' " — Falk.
2. " The promise of Mephistopheles appears to Faust but mockery. What can a devil give a man to satisfy him, when he is not capable of giving it to himself ? The gifts of a devil, he says, are but delusions, and melt away in the same manner as his quicksilver-like gold ; thus he can only bestow fruits which would not rot before the plucking, but no ever-budding tree sprouts forth beneath his skill and fos- tering." — Schubarth.
3. " The meaning plainly is : — I know well thou, poor devil, hast riches and other fleeting pleasures, that excite our longing only that they may elude our grasp, that dazzle only to deceive, and whose substantial worth is always in the inverse ratio of their outward promise. Wouldst thou al- lure me, thou must hold out fruits that rot, not after, but before they are broken, and thus cannot, like the fruits of mere sensuality, deceive us by an external glow when tempt- ing us on the tree, but rotting whenever the hand of enjoy- ment is stretched forth to pluck them. Show me no frail blossom of a fleeting spring, but ' trees which day by day their green repair.' " — Blackie.
4. " The most probable supposition is, that Faust's mean- ing is pretty near the same as in the subsequent speech, in which he expresses a wish to enjoy all that is parcelled out among mankind, pain and pleasure, success and disappoint- ment, indifferently. Taking this wish into consideration, we may well suppose him saying : * You can give nothing of any real value in the eyes of a man like me ; but if you have the common perishable enjoyments of humanity to bestow, let me have them.' " — Hayivard.
5. " Faust admits that the devil has all the different kinds of So<i3m-apples which he has enumerated, gold that melts
/
.262 fA UST.
away in the hand, glory that vanishes like a meteor, and pleasure that perishes in the possession. But all these tor- ments are too insipid for Faust's morbid and mad hankering after the luxury of spiritual pain. .Show me, he says, the fruit that rots before one can pluck it, and (a still stronger expression of his diseased craving for agony) trees that fade so quickly as to be every day just putting forth new green, only to tantalize one with perpetual promise and perpetual disappointment." — Brooks.
A careful study of the structure of the passage does not permit me to accept any of these interpretations. Omitting the first three lines, the remainder is a single sentence, vio- lently interrupted by a dash ( — ) at the end of the eighth line. The two lines which follow are contemptuaus and scornful metaphors, summing up the catalogue of the deceitful gifts which Faust admits Mephistopheles can offer. They simply repeat, in another form, what he has declared in the pre- ceding lines. He commences the enumeration of the pleas- ures whose worthlessness he knows, — gold, love, honor, — then, breaking off impatiently, exclaims, referring to those pleasures : —
" Show me the fruits that, ere they 're gathered, rot, And trees that daily with new leafage clothe them ! "
These images express the cheating, disappointing, inade- quate character of all the usual desires of men, to " a human soul, in its supreme endeavor." The tone of the passage is keenly scornful and incredulous. Faust seriously desires nothing from Mephistopheles, not even the morbid luxury of self-torment ; and in the bet which he offers, immediately af- terwards, his reference to " an idler's bed " seems to have been suggested by the words of Mephistophles, rather than by the craving of his own nature for repose.
63. When thus I hail the Moment flying : "Ah, still delay — thou art so fair ! " Here Faust becomes earnest and definite. The one mo- ment of supreme contentment is for him a symbol of endless
NOTES. 263
capacity for happiness. The wager with Mephistopheles rests upon this couplet, which the reader must bear in his memory until he meets with it again, at the close of the Second Part.
There is no condition of this nature in the Faust-legends. The compact there is, that Faust shall have whatever he de- sires for the term of twenty-four years, when he passes, body and soul, into the power of Mephis'topheles. The only slight resemblance to this passage, in any of the various versions, may be found in the Strassburg play, where Mephistopheles says : " Faust, have I not said to thee, thou canst thyself break the hour-glass of thy time ? Thou hast done it in this moment."
64. Then at the Doctors' -banquet /, to-day.
Mephistopheles refers to the inauguration feast, given on taking a degree.
65 : And all of life for all mankind created.
" We are justly told," Goethe continued, " that the culti- vation in common of human capacities is desirable, and also the most important of aims. But man was not born for that ; properly each one must develop himself as a particular indi- vidual, but also endeavor to attain an apprehension of what all are, collectively." — Eckertnann, 1825.
This scene commences with the above line, in the edition of 1790, and continues to the end in its present form, with- out the change of a word.
66. And I shall have thee fast and sure ! — Goethe frequently makes use of a dash to denote both a change in the address and a movement of the speakek The passage discussed in Note 62 is already an instance of this peculiarity. Here, Mephistopheles looks after Faust's re- treating figure, and addresses him as if he were still present. At the end of the above line, he turns away and continues his soliloquy, speaking of Faust in the third person.
264
FAUST.
67. Encheiresin naturae, this Chemistry names.
With the introduction of the Student (whom we shall meet again, in the Second Part, as Baccalanreus), Mephistopheles not only assumes the mantle of Faust, but Goethe also as- sumes the mask of Mephistopheles. The episode, which is wholly his own invention, was written during his intercourse with Merck, and while his experience of academic teaching was still fresh and far from edifying. He gives the following account (in Wahrheit tind Dichtuiig) of his study of logic, at the University of Leipzig : " I was at first diligent and faithful in attending the lectures, but I remained as much in the dark about philosophy as before. In logic, I found it altogether unaccountable why those operations of the mind, which I had from my earliest years performed with the greatest ease, should first be anatomized, individualized, and torn from their natural union, before one could know how to use them Of the subject-matter of God, the world and the soul, I thought I knew just as much as my master, and he seemed to me, on not a few points to be sadly nonplussed."
The " Spanish boots," of which Mephistopheles speaks, were instruments of torture used in the Middle Ages. They were cases of wood, into which wedges were driven until the calves of the victim's legs were compressed into the smallest possible space.
From logic, Mephistopheles passes to the method of scien- tific investigation, wherein Goethe seems to have remembered the couplet of Pope : —
" Like following life in creatures we dissect, We lose it in the moment we detect."
In a conversation with Falk (translated by Mrs. Austin) he expresses corresponding views : " Our scientific men are rather too fond of details. They count out to us the whole consistency of earth in separate lots, and are so happy as to have a separate name for every lot. That is argillaceous earth; that is quartz; that is this, and this is that. But what am I the better if I am ever so perfect in all these
NOTES. 265
names ? When I hear them, I always think of the old lines in Faust, —
* Encheiresin naturcB nenut's die Chemie, Bohrt sich selber Esel, und weiss nicht wie ! ' *
" What am I the better for these lots ? what for their names ? I want to know what it is that impels every several portion of the universe to seek out some other portion, — either to rule or to obey it, — and qualifies some for the one part and some for the other, according to a. law innate in them all, and operating like a voluntary choice. But this is precisely the point upon which the most perfect and universal silence prevails."
In a letter to Wackenroder. Professor of Chemistry at Jena, written in January, 1832, Goethe says : Notwithstand- ing we willingly allow to Nature her secret Encheiresis, whereby she creates and sustains life, and, although no mystics, we must finally admit the existence of an inscruta- ble something, — yet man cannot, if his aim be earnest, re- strain himself from the attempt to drive the Inscrutable into such close quarters that he is at least satisfied and willing to confess himself defeated."
The phrase encheiresin natures signifies, properly, " a treat- ment of Nature." Here, however, Goethe seems rather to indicate the mysterious, elusive force by which Nature oper- ates.
68. As did the Holy Ghost dictate to thee.
The practice of taking notes of the discourses which they hear, is universal among the German students. Many of the Professors encourage it by adopting a very slow, meas- ured style of delivery.' The advice of Mephistopheles is the keenest irony upon these formal methods of imparting knowledge.
* This was the original form of the couplet, as written. The meaning is the same as in its present form, and the expression " Bohrt sich selber Esel " (which Diintzer says came from the trick of putting the hands t* the sides of the head and wagging them, to represent ass's ears), was probably rejected, because it is pure slang. VOL. I. 12
/
/
266 FAUST.
69. On words let your attention centre. In the Witches' Kitchen (Scene VI.) Mephistopheles says : —
" Man usually believes, if only words he hears, That also with them goes material for thinking."
Elsewhere, however, Goethe says : " Unfortunately, words are usually mere expedients for man ; he mostly thinks and knows a thing better than he expresses it." In the above passage, Mephistopheles probably refers to " the letter that killeth," and exalts it, in consonance with his character.
70. The little world, and then the great, we 'II see.
The programme of both parts of Faust is given in this line. No reference to the cabalistic Microcosm and Macrocosm is intended : " the little world " is here Faust's individual ex- perience of human desires and passions ; he issues from his seclusion to share in the ordinary history of men. This plan is developed, so far as necessary, in the First Part. " The great world " is life on a broader stage of action : in- tellectual forces are substituted for sentiments and passions : the narrow interests of the individual are merged in those of the race ; and Government, War, activity on a grand scale and for universal, permanent ends, succeed, in order that Faust's knowledge of the life of man shall be rounded into completeness. The Second Part of the work is devoted to this latter experience.
71. I feel so small before others, and thence Should always find embarrcLssments.
The following passage is the second of the Paralipomena, and was undoubtedly designed as an answer to the above lines. It seems to have been written at a later period, and we may conjecture that Goethe omitted the lines because they are not in a6cord with the manner of Mephistopheles throughout the see
;ane :
NOTES. 267
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Learn then from me to meet Society !
I come, both cheerful and collected.
And every heart is well-affected ;
I laugh, and each one laughs with me.
Rely, like me, upon your own pretences y^K^
There 's something to be dared, you must reflect ;
For even women easily forgive offences,
If one respectfully forgets respect.
Not in divining-rods nor mandrake tragic.
But in good-humor lies the best of magic :
If I 'm in unison with all,
I do not see how trouble could befall.
Then to the work, and show no hesitation !
I only dread the preparation.
72 I gratulate thee on thy new career.
The '* Disputation," which Goethe projected, for the fur- ther and clearer presentation of the characters of Faust, "Wagner, and Mephistopheles, was probably intended to follow this scene. From the rough draught of his plan, retained in the Paralipomena, the reader may guess, not only the manner in which the rejected scene would have been developed, but also the considerations which compelled its rejection. I shall, therefore, give Goethe's brief and not always (to any but himself) intelligible prose outline, in- serting the half-dozen rhythmical fragments in what appear to be their appropriate places.
DISPUTATION.
First Semichorus, Second Semichorus, Ttitti of the Students, ex- pressing the situation. The crowd, the surging to and fro, the pressing in and out.
STUDENTS {within). Just let us out ! our dinners we are seeking. Who speaks, forgets both meat and drink in speaking ; But he who hears, grows faint at last.
STUDENTS {tvitkout).
Just let us in ! our stomachs we 've been testing ; At commons we have sought our cheer.
268 FAUST.
Just let us in ! we '11 here do our digesting ; We had no wine, and spirit 's here ! *
Wagnek, as opponent. He makes a compliment Separate voices. The Rector to the beadle- The beadles command order.
The Travelling Scholar (Mephistopheles) enters. Abuses the assembly. Chorus of students, half, entire. Abuses the respondent. The latter declines.
THE TRAVELLING SCHOLAR.
Go out ! come in ! Each keep his place in quiet ! Upon this threshold what a riot ! Make room, without ! let those within retire, Then fill their seats as you desire !
Faust accepts the challenge. Condemns his swaggering. Demands that he shall particularize.
Mephistopheles complies, but immediately begins a praise of vaga- bondage and the experience which it gives. Semichorus.
students. He 's of the wandering race, the wight ; He swaggers, yet he 's in the right.
F<vust. Unfavorable picture of the vagabond. Semichorus.
Mephistopheles. Forms of knowledge, lacking to the wisdom of the schools.
mephistopheles. Who speaks of doubts ? Let me but hear ! Who doubts, must never teach, 't is clear ; Who teaches, must be positive !
Faust. VviiBi o-eaurov, in the finer sense. Challenges the opponent to propose questions from experience, all of which Faust will answer.
Mephistopheles. Glaciers. Bolognese Fire. Fata Morgana. Beast. Man.
Faust. Opposing question : where is the creative mirror?
Mephistopheles. Compliment. The answer another time.
Faust. Conclusion. Dismissal.
Chorus, as Majority and Minority of the hearers.
Wagner's fear, that the spirits may utter what Man supposes is whis- pered to himself.
* These are parts of either Semichorus. Goethe's reference to the commons is taken from the University of Leipzig, where, during his studies, a large number of the poorer students were gratuitously furnished with a common dinner, but without wine.
NOTES. 269
It is also possible that this Disputation may have been designed as a substitute for the conversation between Meph- istopheles and the Student, in which case it must have been projected at Rome, in the spring of 1788. On the ist of March, that year, Goethe writes : " It has been an abun- dant week, and in memory it seems like a month. First, I arranged the plan of Faust,"" etc. Goschen's edition of his works, in 1790, was meant to be complete, up to that year, and the publication of Faust, as a " Fragtnent," in the sev- enth volume, may have been due to that circumstance alone.
73. Auerbach's Cellar in Leipzig.
The locality of this scene possesses a double interest, through its connection with the early Faust-legend and with the academic years of the young Goethe. If the stranger who visits Leipzig will seek the large, ancient house. No. i, Grimmaische Strasse, near the Market-Place, the sign " AuER- BACHS Keller," nearly on a level with the sidewalk, will guide him down into the two vaulted chambers which have echoed to the wit and song and revelry of four centuries of jolly companions. He may still take Faust's and Goethe's place, at the head of the table in the farther room, order his wine from the seventieth or eightieth successor of the origi- nal landlord, and, while awaiting the preparation of some old-fashioned dish, study the two curious paintings, which have filled semicircular spaces under the arches perhaps since the year 1525.
Legends of Faust are as plentiful in Germany as those of kobolds or subterranean emperors ; but these pictures, I believe, are the only local records left to our day. Wid- mann's "Veritable History" (1599) mentions the year 1525 as the time when Faust began publicly to practise his magic arts, and the same date upon the pictures may signify either the year when they were painted, or when the event occurred which they illustrate. On this point there is a difference of opinion among the antiquarians, since Faust's fate is men- tioned in the inscriptions. Auerbach's house was rebuilt in
270
FAUST.
1530, but the massive, vaulted cellars were evidently left from the earlier building. The pictures, which were painted by no mean artist, have not only grown very dingy, but they were partly repainted in the years 1636, 1707, and 1759. Under the present inscriptions, which have also been re- newed, there are marks of an older one, probably identical, although this cannot now be established as a fact.
The first picture (about ten feet in length by four in height) represent^TFaust, with a full beard, a ruff around his neck, mantle and fur cap, seated at the head of a table, with a chased goblet in his hand. Next to him is a student who, with lifted arm, is pouring wine from a glass, apparently as a libation. Seven others are seated at the table, two of them about to drink, while five are playing upon musical instru- ments, — a portable clavichord, a lyre, flute, violin, and bass- viol. At the left end of the picture there is a barrel of wine, with a Ganymede in trunk-hose waiting beside it. A small black dog, in the foreground, appears to be watching Faust. Under this picture is the inscription : —
VIVE. BIBE. OBGR^GARE. MEMOR FAVSTI
HVIVS. ET HVIVS
POEN^: ADERAT CLAVDO HvEC ASTERAT
AMPLA GRADV. 1525.
Some of the German scholars read the distich thus : —
Vive, bibe, obgrsecare, memor Fausti hujus et hujus Pcenae : aderat claudo hccc, ast erat ampla gradu. (Live, drink, carouse, remembering Faust and his punishment: it came slowly, but was in ample measure. )
The other picture shows Faust, astride of the wine-cask, which is flying through the door. His face is turned towards the company, and he lifts one hand as a parting salutation. The landlord, servants, and students gaze at him and at each other with gestures expressive of fear and astonishment. The six lines of German doggerel at the bottom of the pic- ture also indicate a later date, since they refer to Faust's punishment. Blackie's translation of this inscription is very good : —
NOTES. 271
" Doctor Faustus, on that tyde, From Auerbach's cellar away did ryde, Upon a wine-cask speedilie, As many a mother's son did see. By subtle crafte he did that deede, And he received the devil's meede."
Goethe thus followed the main legend in bringing Faust to Leipzig, after the compact with Mephistopheles. There are some satirical touches in the scene, however, which show that something of his own recollections was interwoven with the tradition. The other incidents taken from the legends receive a different coloring from the circumstance that Meph- istopheles is made the principal actor, Faust being a pas- sive, and even an unwilling, spectator.
74. A nasty song! Fie ! a political song.
When this line was written, it probably expressed no more than a covert contempt for thge pretence of a " holy Roman (German) Empire," which was still kept up in the coronation at Frankfurt, and in various legal and official forms. Never- theless, the line has been frequently quoted by Goethe's literary enemies as an evidence that he would exclude all political aspiration from literature. His silence during the great national movement of 1813 and 1814 has been charged to an absolute indifference to the fortunes of his country and race, and very arbitrary inferences have been drawn in regard to his own political sentiments. In a conversation with Soret, in 1830, Goethe, after confessing his hearty ad- miration of the political songs of Beranger, thus expresses his own views : —
" A political poem is to be considered, however, even in the most fortunate case, as the voice of a single nation, and in most cases as the voice of a certain party ; but, when it succeeds, it inspires the highest enthusiasm of the nation or the party. Moreover, a political poem is also the product of a certain temporary phase of things, which, in passing away, deducts from the poem whatever value it may have derived directly from the subject "
272
FA UST.
He further said, in answer to Soret's reference to the attacks of which he had been the object, in 1814 and after- wards : '* How could I have taken up arms without hate ? and how could I have hated without youth ? If those events had found me as a young man of twenty, I should certainly not have been the last, but I was already well over sixty
years old, when they came National hatred is quite
a peculiar thing. You will always find that it is strongest and fiercest, in the lowest stages of culture. But there is also a stage where it entirely disappears, where one stands to some extent above the nations, and sympathizes with the weal or woe of a neighbor people as with that of one's own. This latter stage of culture suited my nature, and I had con- firmed myself in it long before reaching my sixtieth year."
So little significance is given to the" expression which Brander uses, that shortly afterwards, in the same scene, Mephistopheles sings a song which is nothing but the keen- est political satire. *
75. Soar up, soar up, Dame Nightingale. The couplet which Frosch sings belongs to several of the early songs of the people. The " Message of Love," written in 1639, commences : —
" Soar up, Dame Nightingale, speed high, And to my sweetheart's window fly ! "
Another song, of the same period, has these lines : —
"Dame Nightingale, Dame Nightingale, Many thousand times my sweetheart hail ! "
The term " Dame Nightingale " was first used by the Minnesingers as early as the eleventh century, and has been perpetuated in the popular songs and ballads. The second fragment which Frosch sings, to annoy Siebel (who has been jilted and resents these strains of love), appears to be Goethe's.
76. There was a rat in the cellar-nest. This song, which is entirely Goethe's own, was probably
NOTES.
273
written in September, 1775, during the height of his passion for "Lili." In a letter to the Countess Augusta von Stol- berg, written from Offenbach, he says : ** The day has gone by passably, yet rather heavily : when I got up in the morn^ ing, I felt well, and wrote a scene of my Faust " Then, after describing the incidents of the day, he adds : " I fell, all the time, like a rat that has eaten poison : it scamper.'^ into all holes, drinks all moisture, swallows everything eat- able that comes in its way, and its entrails burn with un- quenchable fire." In the song, it is not only Brande? satirizing Siebel, but also Goethe satirizing himself, in order to escape the unrest of the strongest attachment of his life.
The introduction of Luther's burly figure as a comparison seems also intended to ridicule Siebel, who is afterwards described by Altmayer as "the bald-pate pot-belly," and is thus drawn by Cornelius, in his illustration of the scene. The line, nevertheless, gave great offence in certain quar- ters; and when Faust (under Tieck's direction) was pre- pared for representation on the stage, in Dresden, the open- ing quatrain of the song was changed in this wise : —
There was a rat in the cellar-nest Who lived on butter and cheeses : He had a paunch beneath his vest. Like the wisest of the Chineses !
77. Paris in miniature, kowjt refines its people.
Leipzig, under the supreme rule of Gottsched, was a faint and not seldom a ridiculous reflection of Parisian taste, in art, literature, and society. Although Lessing, twenty years before Goethe, had dealt the first blow at the pedantry and affectation of the school, Gottsched was still living, and only partially shorn of his authority, when Goethe entered the University. In Wahrheit und Dichtung he gives a lively picture of the assumed refinements in dress, speech, and manners in Leipzig, and the annoyance which he endured from being compelled to imitate them. The rough, racy directness of the Rhine-German was proliibited to him, as 12* R
274 FAUST.
being vulgar ; he was told to use the same expressions in speech as in writing, and even his gestures and movements were subjected to a continual censorship.
78. No doubt V was late when you from Rippach started?
Rippach is the last post-station before reaching Leipzig, on the road from Weissenfels. The remark of Frosch is a part of the "chaff" with which the older Burschen were accustomed to entertain the Foxes, or Freshmen. "Hans von Rippach " is a slang name, denoting a coarse, awkward, boorish fellow, — in fact, an equivalent for- the Scotch Saw- ney, as it is used in some localities. By hinting that Faust and Mephistopheles have been supping with Hans von Rip- pach, Frosch takes a delicate way of saying that they are ignorant country clowns, in comparison with the refined Parisians of Leipzig.
In Wieland's correspondence, there is a letter to Merck, wherein he complains of the manner in which the world is governed by "children, dandies, night-caps, blockheads, Don Quixotes and Hans von Rippachs."
79. There was a king once reigning. The commentators are agreed that this song is the keenest and coarsest satire upon those court-favorites who make their way to place and power, provide for all the members of their family, and attack and annoy society with perfect impunity, so long as they possess the favor of the ruling prince. It is conjectured by some that Goethe had in view a particular favorite 'at the Court of Weimar. Falk says that the couplet at the close, repeated as chorus, expresses the freedom of the people from the restraints of J:he court- circles. The former are at liberty to suppress plagues and parasites whenever they become annoying.
80. A German can't endure the French to see or hear of. Brander's assertion, in this line, must not be understood in a political sense. The national German sentiment, in lit-
NOTES.
275
erature, preceded by many years the political hostility, which first became general and permanent under the oppressions of Napoleon. But at the time this scene was written, there was a strong reaction, both against Gottsched and his school, and against the subserviency to French literature and taste manifested by many of the reigning princes of Ger- many, Frederick the Great at their head. Lessing, and Klopstock in a still greater measure, had already laid the basis of a literary Deutschthum (Germanism), which Goethe and his contemporaries confirmed for all time. The change of sentiment was first accepted by the younger generation, and especially by_the students, of whom Brander is the shrewdest and most resj)ectable representative present in Auerbach's Cellar.
81. Now draw the stoppers^ and drink your fill I Goethe took this specimen of jugglery from the legend, where, however, it is not performed by Mephistopheles but by Faust. It is related as having taken place in Erfurt : " Spake he (Faust), whether they would not like to try a foreign wine or two : answered they, Yes, whereupon he further asked, whether it should be Rephal, Malvasie, Spanish or French wine, and one of them laughing made answer, all those kinds were good. Then Faust demanded a gimlet, began to bore four holes, one after another, on the border of the leaf of the table, stuck in stoppers, even 2s people stick spigots in the heads of casks, called for several fresh glasses, and, when all this had been done, he drew out one stopper after another, and behold ! out of each of the- aforesaid ,holes flowed unto each one the wine he had re- quired, even as out of four casks, from the dry leaf of the table."
By making Mephistopheles the active agent in these ^ielu- sions, the scene in Auerbach's Cellar assumes a different character from that which it bears in the legend. Faust speaks but twice, once simply in greeting, and again to ex- press his wish to leave. From this point, he has nothing in common with the traditional Faust.
276 FAUST.
82. False word and form of air.
Change place, and sense ensnare !
This last prank of Mephistopheles is also borrowed from the Faust-legend, although it appears to be derived from some older tradition. It is thus related in the work of Camerarius (1602) : "Once, when he. (Faust) was in com- pany with some of his acquaintances, who had heard much of his magic arts, they begged him to give them a specimen of his powers. After refusing for a long while, he finally yielded to the tumultuous request of the not wholly sober company, and promised to give them whatever they desired. When they then unanimously asked for a vine full of ripe grapes, in the belief that he would not be able to furnish such a thing in that season (it being winter, namely), Faust prom- ised that he would cause a vine to grow instantly forth from the table, under the condition, that, until he should allow them to cut off the grapes, they would observe the deepest silence and not stir in their seats, otherwise they would be in peril of death. When they had accepted this condition, he so deluded the eyes and senses of the carousing company that they fancied to see a very beautiful vine, with as many wonderfully great bunches of grapes on it as there were persons present. Enticed by the marvel of the thing, and thirsty from drinking, they took hold of their knives, await- ing the moment when they should be allowed to cut off the bunches. Faust left them for a considerable time in their delusion, until finally the vine and grapes disappeared as a vapor, and they perceived that they had taken the noses of each other to be the bunches, and had set their knives thereto."
The refrain, " As 't were five hundred hogs," etc., which the students sing, after drinking the various wines, has the character of certain coarse Bacchanalian measures, still common to their class. Perhaps the resemblance in sound between ja«/' (swill !) and sau (sow) originally suggested the use of the latter as a vulgar slang word. Even Goethe once speaks of himself, in a letter to Merck, as being saiiwohl.
NOTES. 277
83. Witches' Kitchen.
Neither this scene nor the Walpurgis-Night (Scene XXI.) has any connection with the Faust-legend. . The chief motive of the Witches' Kitchen is, of course, the passional rejuve- nation of Faust, as introductory to the episode of Margaret ; but Goethe, with a wilful spirit, not unfrequently manifested in his life and writings, seems to have also designed buj:- lesoueing the machinery of witchcraft and its use in litera- ture. He wrote the scene towards the close of March, 1788, in the gardens of -the Villa Borghese, outside the wall of Rome, at a time when his mind was thoroughly possessed with the grace and beauty and irrecoverable symmetry of fincient art. Perhaps, therefore, the very contrast between his strong aesthetic passion and the character of his theme led him to give the latter the ugliest, coarsest, and absurdest expression. The scene has been a puzzle to many com- mentators, because in the dialogues of Mephistopheles, the Witch, and the Animals, some occult meaning is often pro- vokingly implied. Goethe was too admirable an artist not to have intended this very effect, and not to have accom- plished it by the simplest method, — that of giving the jargon of witchcraft to his own definite ideas ; but, that there was no necessary coherence between those ideas, no consistent allegory intended, is evident from his own words, reported by Falk : " They have now been tormenting themselves for nearly thirty years with the broomsticks of the Blocks- berg and the cat dialogues of the Witches' Kitchen, but they have never yet rightly succeeded in interpreting and alle- gorizing that dramatic- humor i Stic nonsense. Really, one ought to play the joke oftener in his youth, and give them such morsels as the Brocken." [There is an untranslatable pun in the original — solche Brocken wie den Brocken.\
There has been a great deal of not very important discus- sion as to the meaning of the word Meerkatze. It has been translated "Monkey," "Baboon," "Cat-Ape," "Cat," and " Little Ring-tailed Monkey." I follow Mephistopheles, himself, in using the word " Ape," ( Wie gliicklich wUrdc sich
278 FAUST.
der Affe schdtzefi ! ) which will answer as well as any other for those who insist on symbolism. Goethe probably took his Meerkatzen from the legend of Reineke Fuchs, wherein they are introduced.
84. Full thirty years from my existence. There is here an apparent contradiction between the age of Faust and that which is implied in the first scene. The deduction of thirty years, we must suppose, should leave him as a youth of twenty, to begin his new experience of life ; yet we can hardly imagine the man who has been teaching for only ten years, and has barely attained his Doctor's de- gree, to be more than thirty-five. Diintzer thinks this is an oversight of Goethe, arising from the long interval between the composition of the two scenes.
85. We ''re cooking watery soup for beggars. Here we have a clew to some of the masked satire in the scene. In July, 1797, Goethe writes to Schiller concerning a volume which he sends at the same time : " Herewith goes the again murdered, or rather putrefied, Gustavus HI. ; it is really just such a beggars' soup as the German public likes." Falk died before the correspondence was published, or he would not have given the following explanation of the line : " An ironical reference to the coarse superstitions which extend with a thick palpable shade among all nations throughout the history of the world." There seems to be no doubt that in this expression and in the disjointed rhymes uttered by the he-ape, Goethe meant to designate certain classes of literary works, popular in Germany at the time.
86. Wert thou the thief The art of divination by means of a sieve {koskinomancy) was known to the ancients : it is mentioned in the third idyl of Theocritus. In the life of Campanella — the Dominican monk, with whose work, De Sensu Rerum, Goethe appears to have been acquainted — the following story occurs : " Some boys had lost a mantle, and in order to find oul
NOTES. 279
whither it had taken its flight, they hung up a sieve by the middle on a peg, and then uttered the words ' In the name of St Peter and in the name of St. Paul, has not so and so stolen the mantle ? ' They went over a number of names in the same manner,* but the sieve remained immovable, till they pronounced the name of Flavins, and then it began to wheel round about. Campanella, who saw it, was much astonished, and prayed with the boys that God would not suffer them to be blinded by the devil ; and, on making the trial again, as soon as the name of Flavins was pronounced, it began to wheel round about in a circle." — Adelung, Blackie's translation.
87. What do I see ? What heavenly form revealed.
Some of the commentators insist that the form which Faust sees in the magic mirror is that of Margaret, whom he meets in the following scene ; others suppose it to be Helena, although when she appears in the Second Part (end of Act I.) he expressly declares that the vision in the mirror was but " a frothy phantom of such beauty." A reference to Goethe's letters from Rome is all that is needed to satisfy us that it is not an individual, but the perfect beauty of the female form, which fascinates the eyes and brain of Faust. Indeed, his exclamation, " Is it possible, then, that woman is so beautiful ? " indicates this, without any further evidence.
For nearly a year Goethe occupied himself with the study of the human form, drawing from the antique and from life, modelling in clay, and striving to develop a little technical ability in Art. At the commencement of this period of study he writes : " Now at last I am possessed by the alpha and omega of all known things, the human form, and I cry : ' Lord, I will cling to thee until thou blessest me ! ' though I grow lame in the struggle." Eight or nine months later, just before his departure from Rome, he says : " In such a presence [that of the antique sculptures] one becomes more than one's ordinary self ; one feels, that the noblest subject with which we can bi occupied, is the human form." In other letters he speaks of the disinclination with which he returns to '■^formless Germany."
28o FAUST.
The image in the mirror is not a sensual but a purely aesthetic symbol, the significance of which is not further developed in the First Part of the work. The coarser ele- ment through which Mephistopheles achieves a temporary power over Faust is represented by the potion which the witch administers to the latter.
88. We hear and we rhyme. These lines, with the preceding and following ones, have (perhaps purposely) a mixed significance. The crown which the animals bring may be that of France, which, though glued or belimed with the sweat and blood of the people, was virtually broken at the time the passage was written ; yet the line quoted above certainly refers again to the dreary jingle of an inferior class of poets, who now and then, by sheer good luck, get possession of a thought. The remark of Mephistopheles, just before the appearance of the witch, must be understood in the same sense. The reader must not expect more than a half-interpretation of these passages, and that only by giving up the idea of a coherent design.
89. // 'j long been written in the Book of Fable. The conversation between Mephistopheles and the witch is full of ironical suggestions. It ridicules the popular idea of the Devil, with his horns, hoofs, and the attendant ravens (borrowed from Odin) ; it slyly refers to the denial of a personal Spirit of Evil, promulgated by Kant in his philoso- phy and Schleiermacher in his theology ; it asserts that, although men may be rid of the Evil One, there is not there- fore any the less evil in the world ; and, by implication, satir- izes the aristocracy through the claim of Mephistopheles to the title of Baron.
90. This is the witch's once-one'' s-one ! The common schoolboy term for the multiplication-table in Germany is Einmaleins, from its commencement, Einmal tins ist eins — once one is one ! The jargon which the witch
NOTES. 281
declaims from the book is nothing but a nonsenisical parody of the cabalistic formula of the Middle Ages, wherein mysti- cal properties are attributed to numbers.
In the Paralipomena, there is a verse which is generally attributed to the omitted Disputation, yet which seems more appropriate in this place. Mephistopheles says (apparently to Faust) : —
Now, once for all, mark this, I pray — A maxim weighty for thine actions ! No mystery the numbers here convey, Yet there 's a great one in the fractions.
91. A contradiction thus complete.
The irreverent irony of Mephistopheles in this passage hardly needs explanation. Some of the commentators have shown great skill in avoiding the true interpretation. Hin- richs, for example, asserts that it refers to Hegel's system of philosophy ! Diintzer says : " One should properly attribute this irony to Mephistopheles alone, and entirely absolve the poet from it." Goethe, nevertheless, used the mask of Mephistopheles whenever it suited his convenience. In 1824, when speaking to Eckermann of his early life, he said : " I believed in God, in Nature, and in the final triumph of Good over Evil ; but that was not enough for the pious souls. I was also required to believe that Three were One, and One was Three, against which the instinct of truth in my soul revolted : moreover, I could not perceive how I should be helped thereby, in the slightest degree."
Although the witch bewilders Faust when she speaks again, she nevertheless expresses an article of Goethe's poetic creed — that the truest and deepest insight into things is not the result of conscious labor, but falls upon the mind as a free, pure, unsuspected gift. His distaste for metaphysics arose from the fact that it forced him to think about his thinking; whereas his object always was to preserve the freedom, freshness, and spontaneous activity of his mind. The lines declaimed by the witch suggest another of his aphoristic fragments : —
282 FAUST.
' Yes, that is the proper way, When one can't say What one thinks, If one thinks; But everything comes as if freely given !
92. The noble indolence I '// teach thee then to treasure.
Mephistopheles understands very well that an indolent, unregulated habit of life contributes to the growth of all forms of physical appetite. He shows, throughout, such familiarity with theological matters, that we may not un- reasonably suspect him of having taken a hint from Dr.
Watts : —
" For Satan finds some mischief still For idle hands to do."
Perhaps Mephistopheles also recalled these lines, from Milton's Paradise Regained : —
" For Solomon, he lived at ease, and full Of honor, wealth, high fare, aim'd not beyond Higher design than to enjoy his state ; Thence to the bait of women lay exposed."
93. Margaret.
We now take leave of the original Faust-legend, which will not again be encountered until the appearance of Helena, in the Second Part. The episode of Margaret is Goethe's own creation, from beginning to end, and here, even more than in the first monologue of Faust, he " delved in his own breast " for the passion which he represents. Margaret is drawn partly from her namesake, whom Goethe, as a boy of sixteen, imagined he loved ; and partly from his betrothed, Lili (Anna Elizabeth Schonemann, the daughter of a banker in Frankfurt), for whom he felt probably the strongest love of his life, at the time these scenes of his Faust were written,
Gretchen (Maggie), or Margaret, is one of the fairest and sweetest figures in the fifth book of Wahrheit und Dichtung. Goethe describes how his facility in writing poems for occa- sions brought him accidentally into society very much below that into which he was born. Some of these chance com-
NOTES.
283
panlons were even disreputable, and his association with them was finally broken off by the legal investigations con- cerning a forgery which one of them committed. At a house where they met, Margaret first appeared to wait upon them in the place of a maid-servant. She was three or four years older than Goethe, who was then in his sixteenth year, and her quiet grace, beauty, and natural dignity made an instant and deep impression upon him. " She was for the most part," he says, " calm and quiet. Her habit was to sit with her arms crossed, leaning upon the table, a position which showed her to great advantage ; and she would thus sit for a long time together, with now and then a slight motion of her head, which, however, was never made without meaning. At times she threw in a word to help on the conversation, but when she had done this, she immediately resumed her calm and quiet attitude of attention."
The account he gives of her manner suggests Faust's first interview with Margaret : " She gave no one her hand, not even me ; she allowed no one to touch her : only, she often sat down beside me, especially when I wrote or read aloud, and then she placed her arm familiarly on my shoulder, looked into the book, or on my verses, but when I attempted to take the same freedom with her she immediately drew back, and did not return so soon agam. Yet she often re- peated this position, and, indeed, there was a great uniform- ity in all her gestures and motions, though they were always graceful and beautiful."
The last time Goethe saw her, just before the arrest of the forger, she kissed him on the forehead at parting ; but both his love and self-love were bitterly wounded when, in the in- vestigation which took place — and from which she came forth with a spotless character — she testified that she had looked upon him as a boy in whom she felt the interest of an elder sister, and had encouraged his innocent liking for her for the purpose of watching over and protecting him. She left Frankfurt soon afterwards, and Goethe never heard of her again.
The engagement between Goethe and Lili, to whom he
284 FAUST.
wrote some of his finest brief lyrics, was broken off by the opposition of their respective families. The uncertainty and unrest of his love is reflected in that of Faust. All the scenes in which Margaret appears, up to that in the Cathe- dral (Scene XX.), with the exception of Faust's encounter with Valentine (Scene XIX.), were written during the spring of 1775, and Goethe's relation to Lili was not finally broken off until August of that year.
Margaret is one of the most pure and pathetic creations in literature. Ignorant, uneducated (she uses none but the simplest words and sometimes speaks ungrammatically), art- lessly vain, yielding to deceit, and finally led to infamy, crime, and madness, she is both real in her words and ways and ideal in her embodiment of the pure woman-nature, and of that alone. The German critics have made her typical of many things, but she will always remain what Goethe intended her to be — simply a woman. In her language, throughout, there are no references except to Goethe's own early experiences of love : the reader may study her charac- ter for himself, although an indescribable bloom and fresh- ness is lost in transferring her story to another language.
94. How short and sharp of speech was she. Perhaps the word " snappish " would best express the meaning of the German phrase kurz angebunden. Lord Leve- son Gower, deceived by the form of the idiom, fell into a very amusing blunder. He translates the couplet : —
" As with her gown held up, she fled, That well-turned ankle well might turn one's head ! "
We are less surprised that a French translator should have made the same mistake, and given the first line thus : " Comme elle avait des courtes jupes ! " Even Blaze, whose translation in many other respects is so careful and intelli- gent, says : " Quel corsage bien pris I "
95. Most Worthy Pedagogue, take heed 1 The original, Mein Herr Magister Lobesan, is given in a different form by almost every translator. Goethe perhaps
NOTES. 285
borrowed the expression from the title of a satirical poem by Neumeister, published in 1624 — "The Crowned M., in German, Magister Lobesan." Diintzer says it is a nick- name applied to a Magister who makes a pompous display of his dignity. Inasmuch as Faust ironically assumes that Mephistopheles attempts to teach him morals, I have chosen the word " Pedagogue " as an equivalent. The following are some of the varieties of translation, and they may help the reader to a clearer comprehension of the phrase : —
Blackie. — Sir Knight of Pedantry. Hayward. — My good Mr. Sermonizer. Brooks. — My worthy Master Gravity. Martin. — Master Graveairs. Leveson Gower. — Mr. Check-my-speed Anster. — Most Reverend. Beresford. — Sir Laudable.
96. As in Italian tale': V is taught. The word welsche (or wdlsche) may signify either French or Italian : in the Middle Ages it was often used in the sense of " foreign." Hartung supposes that by wtlsche Geschichf Goethe simply meant romances, of whatever coun- try ; but it seems more probable that he had in mind the amorous stories of Boccaccio, or the Heptameron.
97. O welcome, twilight soft and sweet I The reader will not fail to notice the entire change in Faust, since the preceding scene, although only a few hours are supposed to have elapsed. The " atmosphere " upon which Mephistopheles has calculated in advance, exercises an influence of which he seems to be ignorant, while Faust, after his first surrender to the new impression, hardly rec- ognizes himself. At the meeting with Margaret, it is the witch's potion which speaks through him : here, the better though obscure aspiration (vide the " Prologue in Heaven ") repossesses him, under the new, blissful, yet disquieting form of love. Mephistopheles is, naturally, incapable of un- derstanding the transformation in Faust's feelings, because the strongest negation of his denying nature is that of love.
286 FAUST.
Goethe was not only keenly sensitive to the operation of atmospheric influences upon the mind, but he also believed in the existence of a spiritual aura, through which impres- sions, independent of the external senses, might be commu- nicated. It is the atmosphere of peace, and order, and contentment, and chastity, which unconsciously touches Faust, in Margaret's chamber ; and it is the \3ultry breath of evil, of impending temptation and ruin, which oppresses Margaret on her return.
98. / know not, should I do it ? Faust is so far redeemed by his awakening love that he hesitates to use the gift which he had commanded Mephis- topheles to furnish. The latter purposely misunderstands his hesitation, and accuses him of wishing to keep the casket of jewels for himself. Nevertheless, it is he, and not Faust, who places the casket in the press.
99. There was a King in Thule.
According to Goethe's statement this ballad was written in July, 1774, when he repeated it to his friend Jacobi. It does not appear to have been originally intended for Faust, as were the songs in Auerbach's Cellar ; yet it is most fitting that Margaret, in this crisis of her fate, should sing a ballad of love and death, wherein the word Buhle (mistress or leman) has a prophetic character. The " King of Thule " was first published in 1782 in a collection of "Songs of the People," set to music by Baron von Seckendorff, with the announcement added : " From Goethe's Dr Faust." This was eight years before the publication of this scene, in the " Fragment."
It would seem impossible for any one to read the ballad and not be satisfied with the story it so simply tells ; yet one of Goethe's commentators, Hartung, insists on the following interpretation : " It is based, like the ballad of ' The Fisher/ on a deeper meaning. For, while the dying King grants all else to his heirs, the elements, he gives only to the great ocean that which is most precious to him — his Self, his
NOTES. 287
soul, which he desires shall be united to the world-soul, no matter whether it shall melt as a drop into the element of soul-ether, or, hardened into a pearl, continue its individual existence."
As I have stated in the Preface, the feminine rhymes of the first and third lines of each verse have been omitted, in order to make the translation strictly literal. I have taken this liberty (the only one I have allowed myself, in the lyri- cal passages of the work) the more readily, because the redundant syllable partly atones to the ear for the absence of rhyme. In this instance I have considered it especially necessary to preserve the simplicity of the original, and (if that be possible) the weird, mystic sweetness of its move- ment. To show how entirely these qualities may be lost, in a language further removed from German than ours, I quote Blaze's translation of the last two verses : —
" Puis, se levant, le vieux compere Huma le dernier coup vital, Et jeta le sacr^ m^tal Dans les vagues de I'onde am^re.
" II le vit tomber, s'engloutir ; Et quand il n'eut plus aucun doute, Sentit ses yeux s'appesantir, Puis jamais ne but une goutte "
100. With heavenly manna she 'II repay it. Margaret's mother seems to have quoted from Revelation ii. 17 : "To him that overcometh will I give to eat of the hidden manna," and the parson, in the line " Who over- cometh, winneth too," remembers verses 7, 11, and 26 in the same chapter.
loi. The Neighbor's House. This scene surely requires no further explanation than that contained in the two succeeding notes. The characters of Martha, Margaret, and Mephistopheles are placed before us, in the clearest manner, by a few simple, realistic touches. I need not repeat the Conjectures of critics concerning Dame
288 FAUST.
Martha's age and personal appearance. Here, and in Scene XII., she is represented with such distinctness that the reader cannot mistake the part which Goethe intended her to fill. If anything further were necessary, Mephistopheles charac- terizes her sufficiently, in the following scene.
1 02. In Padua buried, he is lying. Beside the good Saint Antony.
If this is anything more than a random statement of Meph- istopheles, the irony is neither keen nor especially impor- tant. The Saint is not the Antony of the Desert and the temptations and the Irish ballad, but Antonio of Padua, a relative of Godfrey of Bouillon. He was born in Lisbon in 1 195, preached with such fervor that even the fishes rose to the surface of the sea to listen to him, and died in Padua in 1 23 1. The splendid basilica in which his ashes rest was not completed until two centuries later. His chapel, with its alti rilievi by Lombardi, Sansovino, and others, still attracts the student of art.
Interments within the walls of cathedrals and churches in Italy were not prohibited until the year 1809.
103. I want his death in the weekly paper stated. There is, in Germany, an official registration of all mar- riages, births, and deaths, which are published at stated intervals. The laws relating to marriage require both par- ties to furnish testimony .that there are no legal impediments to their union ; hence the officially published death of Herr Schwerdtlein is necessary, before Dame Martha can prop- erly be considered a widow and at liberty to accept a second spouse.
104. For thou art right, especially since I must.
Faust, in this line, admits his dependence on the aid of Mephistopheles, and the necessity of giving false testimony in order to procure an interview with Margaret. No change in the character of his passion is implied.
There is a passage in the Paralipomena which seems natu-
NOTES. 289
rally to belong here, although some of the German commen- tators have given it a different place. Mephistopheles says, apparently after Faust's departure, when he has impatiently spoken the above line : —
'T is hard, indeed, the younker's ways commanding ;
Yet, as his tutor, I 've no fear
I shall not rule the madcap, notwithstanding.
And nothing else concerns me here.
His own desires I let him follow slowly,
That mine, as well, may be accomplished wholly.
Much do I talk, yet always leave him free ;
If what he does should quite too stupid be.
My wisdom, then, must make a revelation.
And I must drag him forth, as by the hair :
Yet, while one strives the folly to repair.
One gives for other folly fresh occasion.
105. All times I 'II have to think on you, all places ! These two lines are literally : " Think but a little mo- ment's space on me ; I shall have time enough to think of you." I have been obliged, by the exigency of rhyme, to express the latter phrase in different words ; yet this is one of those instances where no English words, though they may perfectly convey the meaning, can possibly carry with them the fulness and tenderness of sentiment which we feel in the original. " Ich werde Zeit genug an euch zu denken haben " suggests, in some mysterious way, a contrast between Faust's place in life and Margaret's, between the love of man and that of woman, which the words do not seem to retain, when translated.
106. She plucks a star-flower.
The original, sternblume, may mean either a china-aster, a star-of- Bethlehem, a variety of primrose or of jonquil. Va- rious modes of amorous divination by means of flowers were known to the ancients (one of them is mentioned by Theoc- ritus), and the Minnesinger, Walther von der Vogelweide, describes a very similar method of ascertaining whether a lover's affection is returned. The single daisy {Gansebliim-
VOL. I. 13 s
290
FAUST.
chen in German) is sometimes used for the same purpose, but it is a garden-flower, of course, which Margaret plucks.
107. It's as if nobody had nothing to fetch and carry. The effect of a double negative in German is precisely the same as in English, and it belongs equally to the vulgar dia- lect. Goethe introduces it intentionally here as well as in Scene XVI., where Margaret says, speaking of Mephistoph^ eles : *' One sees that in nothing no interest he hath." 1 have not felt at liberty to correct these purposed inelegances, as most translators have done. They are trifling touches, it is true, but they belong to the author's design.
108. Forest and Cavern.
Most of the German critics unite in the opinion that this scene must have been written during Goethe's residence in Rome, or immediately after his return to Weimar. There is a certain slight variation in tone which distinguishes it from the earlier scenes. Mr. Lewes, in his " Life of Goethe," says : " I do not understand the relation of this scene to the whole." But, in his sketch of the growth of Faust, Mr. Lewes does not seem to be aware of the publication of the "Fragment" in 1790. The " Forest and Cavern " is there given, not in its present position, but immediately after the scene "At the Fountain" (Scene XVIL), and consequently after Margaret's fall. Goethe's first design was, evidently, to drive Faust from Margaret's presence through the re- morse following the deed, and his transfer of the scene to its present place substitutes a moral resistance in advance of the deed for the earlier motive. The character of Faust's love is not only elevated by this change, but the element of good in his nature is again actively, and not merely reac- tively, developed.
Some commentators have found a contradiction between Faust's almost inspired enjoyment of Nature in this scene, and the character of his first monologue. Yet, if we read the latter carefully, we shall find it pervaded with a longing for " the broad, free land," for release from the imprison-
NOTES.
291
mcnt of unsatisfying studies. His impatience is not with Nature, but with the inadequacy of the physical sciences, which endeavor to wrench from her "with levers, screws, and hammers," the secrets " which she doth not willingly display." Faust looks on Nature, now, with the eyes of a lover, and she is transformed to his senses. It is no longer a cold, amazed acquaintance ; her bosom is open to him as that of a friend, and all living creatures become his brothers. The scoff of Mephistopheles does not move him, but he at last succumbs to the picture which the latter draws of Mar- garet's loneliness and sorrow.
In Wahrheit und Dichtwig we find the original suggestion of the scene. After Goethe's separation from the Margaret of his boyhood, and the illness which followed, the paternal government was more rigidly enforced. He was furnished with a private tutor, a man of intelligence and of a kindly, sympathetic nature, who soon became a friend. Goethe, nevertheless, remained depressed and boyishly misanthropic for a time. " I drew my friend with me into the woods," he says. " Leaving the monotonous fir-trees behind me, I sought those beautiful, leafy groves, which are, indeed, of no very great extent in that region, but are nevertheless of a size sufficient to furnish concealment for a poor wounded heart. I selected, in the deepest part of the wood, a sombre spot where the ancient oaks and. beeches grandly overshad- owed a broad space of soil. The ground sloped upwards, which added to the effect of the massive old trunks. This clear space was surrounded with dense thickets, out of which rose the venerable forms of moss-grown rocks, and an abun- dant brook poured over them in a rapid cascade
" What I then felt, is still present to my mind ; what I said, it would be impossible for me to recall."
Hartung, in his comment on this scene, says : '* He (Faust) also thanks God that He has given to him the com- rade whom he can no longer do without," etc. The reader can judge for himself whether Faust does not simply toler- ate the presence of Mephistopheles, through his conviction that " nothing can be perfect unto man," and the new ec-
292 FAUST.
stasy he feels must therefore be balanced by the degrading fellowship.
109. One dares not that before chaste ears declare. • " Qui reprehendunt et irrident quod ea quae re turpia non sint, nominibus ac verbis flagitiosa ducamus, ilia autem quae turpia sint nominibus appellemus suis : latrocinare, fraudare, adulterare re turpe est, sed dicitur non obscoene ; liberis dare operam, re honestum est, nomine obscoenum." — Cicero, Of- I., 35-
no. Enough of that ! Thy love sits lonely yonder. Mephistopheles is shrewd enough to perceive that Faust is thus far insensible tb his mockery. He here suddenly changes his tactics, and draws such a picture of the forsaken Margaret that Faust, even in the exclamation " Serpent ! serpent!" betrays how much he is moved. In this excla- mation, and the aside of Mephistopheles, I have omitted the rhyme of the original, which could not possibly be repro- duced without losing the subtile suggestiveness of the words. Mr. Brooks nearly overcomes the difficulty by translating as follows : —
Faust. Viper ! Viper !
Mephistopheles {aside). Ay, and the prey grows riper !
III. " Were I a little bird ! " so runs her song. This is an old song of the people in Germany. Herder published it in his Volkslieder, in 1779; but it was no doubt already familiar to Goethe in his childhood. The original melody, to which it is still sung, is as simple and sweet as the words. I cannot do better than to borrow Mr. Brooks's translation, which is very literal : — .
" Were I a little bird, Had I two wings of mine, I 'd fly to my dear ; But that can never be, So I stay here.
293
NOTES.
' ' Though I am far from thee, Sleeping I 'in near to thee, Talk with my dear ; When I awake again, I am alone.
"Scarce there 's an hour in the night When sleep does not take its flight. And I think of thee, How many thousand times Thougav'st thy heart to me."
The expression " wept beyond her tears " is ausgeweint (outwept) in the original. Goethe probably r'lniembered the line of Dante {Inferno, Canto XXXIII.) : —
Lo pianto stesso li pianger non lascia.
" Weeping itself there does not let them weep, And grief that finds a barrier in the eyes Turns itself inward to increase the anguish."
Longfellow' s translation.
112. On your twin-pair, that feed amoftg the roses.
The Song of Solomon is one of those books of the Old Testament which Faust, in his contract with Mephistoph- eles, according to one form of the old legend, was permitted to read. We should not be surprised, therefore, to find the latter quoting from it, although not quite correctly.
" Thy two breasts are like two young roes that are twins, which feed among the lilies." — iv. 5.
Mr. Hayward quotes from a private letter to himself the following singular advice which Schlegel gives in regard t(> this couplet : —
" Je ne vous conseille pas de traduire cela litteralement. On jeterait les hauts cris."
1 13. Margaret (at the spinning-wheel, alone). This and the foregoing scene may be considered as nearly identical in time. The lovers are separated : Faust strug- gles with all the' force of his nobler instinct to resist his passion, while Margaret is wholly possessed by an intense, unreasoning yearning for his presence. In representing her
294
FAUST.
as seated at the spinning-wheel, Goethe again remembers the Margaret of his boyhood. Visiting the house on one occasion, to meet, by appointment, the circle into which he had been drawn, he says : " Only one of the young people was at home. Margaret sat at the window and span ; the
mother went back and forth She (Margaret) arose,
left her spinning-wheel, and approaching the table where I sat gave me a severe lecture, yet with much good sense and kindness."
Although some have fancied that in the opening line, Meine Ruh* ist hin^ the lulling sound of the spinning-wheel is indicated, the verses are meant to be a revery, not a song. They are, indeed, articulate sighs ; the lines are almost as short and simple as the first speech of a child, and the least deviation from either the meaning or the melody of the, original (even the change of meine into my, in the first line) takes away something of its indescribable sadness and strength of desire. In the first verse, which is twice re- peated as a refrain, I have been obliged to choose between the repetition of the word peace in the third line and the use of a pronoun which cannot, as in the German, fix its antece- dent by its gender. The reader who prefers the grammatical form to the more natural expression will at least understand that it is here impossible to give both. There are prece- dents for either alternative, in former translations.
114. Hear me not falsely, sweetest countenance !
When Faust says, '* And as for Church and Faith, I leave to each his own," it is Goethe who speaks. His maxim through life was not only tolerance but a respectful recogni- tion of all forms of religious belief. Margaret here repre- sents a class not peculiar to Germany. She insists on a categorical explanation of Faust's views, and when, in an- swer to her question : " Believest thou in God .-' " he hints at the impossibility of comprehending the Divine Essence, she misses the familiar phrases of her creed, and immediately infers : *' Then thou believest not ! "
The passage wliich follows has been the subject of a great
NOTES.
^95
deal of comment, from Madame de Stael (in her De V Alle- magne) to the latest writer on Faust. There is, however, sufficient evidence that Goethe meant to state his own — imperfect, as he admitted it to be — conception of the Deity. He read Spinoza at an early age, and frequently expressed his concurrence in the views of that philosopher, concern- ing the " immanence " of God in all things. The sun, the stars, the earth, the human heart and all its emotions, are simply " invisible, visible " manifestations of His existence. Goethe's intention is to acknowledge Him in His Infinite aspects, not to define or describe Him.
In 1829, he said to Eckermann : *' The period of doubt is past : every one, now, would as soon think of doubting hi^ own existence as that of God. Moreover, the nature of God, immortality, the being of the soul and its connection with the body are eternal problems, wherein the philosophers are unable to give us any further knowledge."
Two years later, Eckermann gives the following report of Goethe's views. The latter was then eighty-two years old. " He is very far from supposing that he truly apprehends the Highest Being. All his oral and written utterances have inculcated the belief that God is an inscrutable Existence, whereof man has but approximate glimpses and presenti- ments. All Nature and we human beings are, nevertheless, so penetrated with the Divine element, that it sustains us, that in it we live, work and be ; that we sorrow and rejoice through the operation of eternal laws, which we fulfil and which are fulfilled in us, whether we perceive them or not. He is firmly convinced that the Divine Power is everywhere manifested, and that the Divine Love is everywhere active."
In 1823 Goethe said to Soret : " With the people, and especially with the clergymen, who have Him daily upon their tongues, God becomes a phrase, a mere name, which they utter without any accompanying idea. But if they were penetrated with His greatness, they would rather be dumb, and for very reverence would not dare to name Him."
This passage in Faust has sometimes been designated "Goethe's creed," — an expression which he would have
296 FAU^T.
repelled, since he considered all creeds as attempts to express something beyond the reach of human intelligence. In 1813 he wrote to his friend Jacobi : " For my part, with the mani- fold directions in which my nature moves, I cannot be satis- fied with a single mode of thought. As Poet and Artist I am a polylheist ; on the other hand, as a student of Nature I am a pantheist, — and both with equal positiveness. When I need a God for my personal nature, as a moral and spirit- ual man, He also exists for me. The heavenly and the earthly things are such an immense realm, that it can only be grasped by the collective intelligence of all beings."
Whether Faust's explanation is pantheism, in either a spiritual or a materialistic form ; whether it is an z^wdoctrinal view permitted to a Christian, or, as Margaret fears, there is " no Christianity " in it, — are questions which the reader will decide for himself. The terms Pantheism, Materialism, and even Christianity, are so liable to random and partisan use, that I prefer to leave without comment a passage, of which Mr. Lewes says : " Grander, deeper, holier thoughts are not to be found in poetry."
115. At the Fountain. This is another of the scenes written in 1775. Its direct and occasionally coarse realism has been condemned by some critics, and one or two of the expressions have generally been softened in translation. The vulgarity of Lisbeth, nevertheless, has a purpose. Margaret is made to feel her own situation, and the disgrace awaiting her, through the expressions applied to the unfortunate Barbara, and the reader's sympathy is secured, with his first knowledge of her fall. I have therefore translated the scene without change, on the same principle which the Germans have adopted in translating Shakespeare.
116. And we 'II scatter chaff before her door.
The word /^a<:/^^r//«^ signifies either chaff or chopped straw
The old German custom, which is still observed in some
parts of the country, allowed the bridal wreath only to chaste
NOTES.
297
maidens. If one of sullied reputation ventured to assume it, the wreath was torn from her head, and sometimes replaced with one of straw, while on the eve of the marriage chaff or chopped straw was scattered before her door. A widow who marries again is allowed to wear a wreath, but not the myrtle of the maiden bride.
Church-penance for unchastity was also formerly common in England. In Germany the guilty person was obliged to kneel before the altar, clad in a " sinner's shift," while the clergyman severely rated her conduct, and read her petition for pardon.
117. Donjon.
The word Zwinger, which Goethe uses, corresponds to our " stronghold " or "donjon keep," but is also sometimes applied to the open angular space between the wall of a town and one of the fortified gates. Goethe seems to use the word in the latter sense. The shrine of a saint was frequently placed in the re-entering angle, between which and the city- wall there would be a partly enclosed space. Mephistopheles represents Margaret as watching the clouds " over the old city-wall," from her window, whence her home must have been in the street nearest to it, and the shrine of the Mater Dolorosa, being close at hand, would be- come her accustomed place of prayer. I have followed all other translators in using the word donjon, simply because we have no English word to describe the locality.
The opening of Margaret's prayer suggests the well-known Latin hymn of Jacoponus, written towards the close of the thirteenth century : —
« ? Stabat mater dolorosa
Juxta crucem lacrimosa,
Dum pendebat filius ;
Cujus animam gementem,
Contristatum et dolentem,
Pertransivit gladius.
If the revery at the spinning-wheel be a sigh of longing, this is a cry for help, equally wonderful in words and metre ; I *
298 FAUST.
yet with a character equally elusive when we attempt to reproduce it in another language.
118. Valentine, a soldier, Margaret's brother.
This scene appears to have been written some time during the year 1800, and probably after the completion of the Wal- purgis-Night (Scene XXI.). Goethe had been occupied, at intervals, for some time previous, with the Helena (Part Sec- ond, Act III.), which he finally laid aside, with the determi- nation to fill the gaps yet remaining in the First Part, before proceeding further. In the Royal Library at Berlin, there is an autograph manuscript of the scene, dated " 1800."
Dlintzer insists that the unity of the plot is disturbed by the introduction of Valentine, whose death, he asserts, has no intimate connection with Margaret's fall. Goethe's de- sign, nevertheless, may be easily conjectured, and the poets, we imagine, will take sides with him against the critic. The guilt of blood, which the action of Mephistopheles brings upon Faust, obliges the latter to fly from the town, and he is thus prevented from learning the shame and misery which swiftly come upon Margaret. Without such a motive, his flight would be a heartless desertion, at variance with the expressions of his love in the preceding and following scenes. Moreover, while the consequences of Margaret's fault suc- ceed each other with terrible, cumulative retribution, her right to pity and sympathy increases with them. We could ill spare this picture of Valentine, the brave soldier, the hon- est man, whose death is another necessary link in the fatal chain of Margaret's destiny,
* 119. Saw splendid lion-dollars in'' t.
The remark of Faust refers, apparently, to some buried treasure which Mephistopheles has promised to raise for him. " Lion-dollars " are of Dutch coinage, and -so called both from the city of Louvain (in German, L'&wen — lion), in Brabant, where they were first struck, and from the figure of a lion on the obverse. They are also sometimes named '* Brabanters." A few specimens are still occasionally seen
NOTES. 299
in Germany : their value is about eighty-five cents. Hay- ward is mistaken in saying that the lion-dollar is a Bohe- mian coin.
" It was a generally disseminated belief that the interior of the earth contains treasures, which must be raised by whoever would possess them. It was supposed that the treasure moved of itself, slowly seeking to approach the sur- face. At stated times, frequently once in seven years, but sometimes only once in a hundred, the treasure is above, and waits to be lifted. If this is not accomplished, because the necessary conditions are not fulfilled, it sinks back again. It is generally contained in a kettle, and its approach to the surface is indicated by a flame hovering over the spot." — Diintzer.
120. What dost thou here ? The song of Mephistopheles is directly suggested, as Goethe admitted [vide Note 8), by the song of Ophelia, in Hamlet (Act IV., Scene V.): —
" Good morrow, 't is Saint Valentine's day, All in the morning betime, And 1 a maid at your window, To be your Valentine.
" Then up he rose, and don'd his clothes, And dupped the chamber door ; iet in the maid, that out a maid Never departed more."
In Schlegel's translation, St. Charity (in the third verse) is rendered St. Kathrin^ whence Goethe probably took the name "Kathrina dear." It also seems probable that the name given to Margaret's brother, Valentine, was suggested by "your Valentine" in Ophelia's song; and all the more so, since its Latin original, valens, is specially appropriate to a soldier.
121. Rat-catching piper, thou!
Browning's poem of "The Pied Piper of Hamclin" is so well known that I need not give the old German legend to nhich Valentine's exclamation refers. Goethe's song, Der
300
FAUST.
Rattenfdnger^ expresses still more clearly the meaning which he attaches to the phrase. The man who charms innocent maidens by his seductive arts, even as the piper by the notes of his magical pipe charmed the rats of Hamelin, is a, rat- catcher. In "Romeo and Juliet" (Act III. Scene I.) Mer- cutio says : —
"Tybalt, you rat-catcher, will you walk?"
122. Out with your spit, without delay ! Flederwisch, the slang German word for "sword," whidi Mephistopheles uses, means a goose's wing, such as is used by economical housewives for dusting furniture. Hayward translates "toasting-iron," borrowing the expression from Shakespeare; Mr. Brooks says "whisk," and Mr. Martin "duster," — both of which are literal ; yet, in this instance, I prefer to use a cant word which is equivalent to the original.
123. Cathedral. This is the closing scene of " Faust : a Fragment," and the last but one in which Margaret appears. She returns to the Cathedral, before which Faust first met her in the street, as she was coming from confession, where, as even Mephis- topheles admits : —
" So innocent is she, indeed, That to confess she had no need."
Without this contrast, the terrible power of the scene must be felt by every reader. The short, unrhymed lines express both the hoarse whispered threats of the Evil Spirit, and the panting agony of the sinner. The line : " Upor thy threshold whose the blood ? " fails in the edition of 1790, and was added on account of the foregoing scene, which was afterwards written. The confusion of Margaret's thoughts, presaging her later insanity, is indicated in the first words she utters.
124. Dies irce, dies ilia. Goethe has elsewhere acknowledged the powerful impres- sion which this old Latin chant made upon himself. Some
NOTES. 301
have attributed its authorship to Gregory the Great, and others to Bernhard of Clairvaux ; but the scholars seem now to be generally agreed that it is not of later origin than the thirteenth century, and that Thomas of Celano was proba- bly its author. It was accepted by the Roman Church, as one of the sequentia of the requiem, before the year 1385. The original text is engraved upon a marble tablet in the church of St. Francesco in Mantua. The present form of the chant is supposed to have been given by Felix Hammerlin (in the early part of the fifteenth century), who omitted the former opening stanzas, and added some others at the close. In this form it has appeared in the Catholic missals, since the Council of Trent. The chant has been translated up- wards of seventy times into German, and fifteen times into Enghsh. One of the closest versions, of the few in which the feminine rhymes are retained, is that of Gen. John A. Dix, who thus renders the first stanza : —
" Day of wrath, without a morrow ! Earth shall end in flame and sorrow, As from saint and seer we borrow."
125. Judex ergo cum sedebit. We must suppose that the singing of the chant continues, ftnd that there is a pause after the close of the first verse, be- fore the Evil Spirit again speaks. His second address cer- tainly points to the third verse, of which it is a paraphrase : —
Tttba tnirum spargens sonutn Per sepulchra regionum Coget omnes ante thronuin.
Goethe passes over this and the two following verses until the sixth, which is now quoted. Margaret is overpowered by the declaration contained in it that all things hidden s6all be brought to light, and no guilt shall remain unpunished,
126. Quid sum miser tunc dicturus ? This, the seventh verse, is most appropriately chosen for the climax of the effect produced on Margaret by the grand and terrible chant. If the just shall be saved with difficulty.
302 FAUST.
what plea shall be uttered by this miserable sinner? In the original, also, the threat of wrath and retribution culminates here, the remaining ten verses having the character of peni- tence and supplication. Diintzer censures Goethe for re- peating the line: ^^ Quid sum miser tunc dicturus?^^ for the reason that it is not repeated in the Catholic service, and in- sists that he ought to have given the first line of the follow- ing verse — " Rex tremendce majestatis,^'' instead of it. But the poet, who prefers dramatic truth to the correctness of a minute detail which is of no importance, justifies himself.
127. Neighbor! your cordial ! The original word, Fldschchen, means simply a phial ; but It is evidently the neighbor's pocket-flagon of smelling-salts for which Margaret asks. In most of the English versions we find "smelling-bottle," but Mr. W. Taylor, of Norwich, in his " Historic Survey of German Poetry" (London, 1830), says " Your dram-bottle ! "
128. Walpurgis-Night. This scene was written in 1800, probably twenty-five years after its first conception. It is announced in the Witches' Kitchen (Scene VI.), in the words of Mephistopheles : "Thy wish be on Walpurgis-Night expressed." Goethe was ac- customed to carry his poetical designs about with him for a long time, from a sense of possession and private enjoyment which he lost after they had been written. Perhaps, also, his feeling for the repose and symmetry of classic art, which was awakened during his Italian journey, and which mani- fests itself in Iphigenia in Tauris, Tasso, and even in I/er- niann and Dorothea^ rendered it more difficult for him to resume a theme so purely Gothic. He once said to Ecker- mann : "I employed myself but once with the devil and witch material ; I was then glad to have consumed my , Northern inheritance, and turned again to the banquets of the Greeks." The original manuscript of the Walpurgis- Night is in the Royal Library of Berlin : it is dated Novem- ber 5, 1800.
NOTES.
303
The title and character of the Witches' Sabbath on the summit of the Brocken, on the night between April 30 and May I, spring equally from the old and the new religion. Walpurgis (or Walpurga, which is the most usual form of the name) was the sister of Saints Willibald and Wunnibald, and emigrated with them from England to Germany, as fol- lowers of St. Boniface, in the eighth century. She died as abbess of a convent at Heidenheim, in Franconia, and after the extirpation of the old Teutonic faith became one of the most popular saints, not only in Germany, but also in Hol- land and England. The first of May, which was given to her in the calendar, was the ancient festival-day of the Dru- ids, when they made sacrifices upon their sacred mountains, and kindled their May-fires. Inasmuch as their gods be- came devils to their Christian descendants, the superstition of a conclave of wizards, witches, and fiends on the Brocken — or Blocksberg — naturally arose, and the name of the pious Walpurgis thus becaqie irrevocably attached to the diabolical anniversary. The superstition probably grew from the circumstance that the Druidic rites were celebrated by night, and secretly, as their followers became few. Goethe describes such a scene in his Cantata of " The First Wal- purgis-Night " (written in 1799), wherein his Druid sentinel, on the lookout for suppressive Christians, sings : —
•• Mit dem Teufel, den sie fabelii, Wollen wir sie selbst erschrecken."
[With the Devil, whom they fable, They themselves shall now be frightened.]
Mr. Lewes is mistaken when he says : *' The scene on the Blocksberg is part of the old Legend, and is to be found in many versions of the puppet play." There is no trace of it in any of the forms of the legend or play which I have exam- ined. The carnival of the witches on the Blocksberg is a much older tradition than that of Faust, and the two were never united in the popular stories. Johann Friedrich Lowen, a native of Clausthal, in the Hartz, published in 1756 a comical epic, entitled "The Walpurgis-Night,"
304
FAUST.
wherein, apparently for the first time in literature, Faust appears on the Blocksberg. I quote the following lines as a specimen : —
" At Beelzebub's left hand there Doctor Faust was sitting ; He filled his glass and drank most bravely, as was fitting, And when the nectar made their spirits warm and strong. The spectres cried ' hurrah ! ' Faust sang a drinking-song."
Goethe was no doubt acquainted with this poem ; but the Brocken itself, which can be seen in clear weather from the Ettersberg near Weimar, or the Kiickelhahn at Ilmenau, al- ways possessed a special attraction for him. In December, 1777, he first ascended the mountain, and thereafter wrote his celebrated poem, " Hartz-Journey in Winter." Before leaving for Italy, he again twice made the ascent, both through the region of Schierke and Elend, and on the north- ern side, up the valley of the Use.
The Hartz Mountains are an isolated group, lying be- tween the Elbe and Weser rivers, and their central and highest peak, the Brocken, has an elevation of three thou- sand eight hundred feet above the sea. It is a dark, wild region, with forests of fir and birch on the lower heights, traversed by foaming streams, one of which, the Bode, is shut in by perpendicular walls of trap rock, several hundred feet in height. On the loftier ridges huge masses of granite interrupt, and sometimes overtop, the forests. Climbing the Brocken in 1845, I passed the Walpurgis-Night in the high- est inhabited house below the summit, which I reached the next morning after wandering upwards for three hours through a terrible storm. The descent in the afternoon, through Schierke and Elend, under drifting masses of black cloud and a driving scud of hail, snow, and rain, suggested, at every step, the description of the scenery in Faust. Schierke, the highest village in the Hartz, is a collection of rude, weather-beaten wooden houses, surrounded by rocks of the most fantastic shapes. Elend is two or three miles distant, and much lower. The most spirited and picturesque ilescription of the Faust-scenery of the Hartz has been
NOTES. 305
given by Heine, in his Reisebilder — " Pictures of Travel," which have been translated by Mr. Charles G. Leland.
A fragment of two lines in the Paralipometia was probably intended for the opening of this scene : —
Faust. The further northward one may go, The plentier soot and witches grow.
129. The moon's lone disk, with its belated glow. " The field of love, hate, hope, despair, and whatever other names may be given to the conditions and passions of the soul, is the poet's natural inheritance, and he may use it successfully. But he has no inherited instinct of how a court of justice — for instance — is held, or how a parliament or an imperial coronation is conducted ; and in order not to violate truth the poet must make such subjects his own through observation or acceptance from others. Thus, in Faust, I was easily able to possess, by instinctive perception, the gloomy mood of weariness of life in the hero, as well as Margaret's sentiment of love ; but, to say, for example : —
' How sadly rises, incomplete and ruddy, The moon's lone disk, with its belated glow,' —
some previous observation of nature was necessary." — Goethe to Eckermann, 1824.
The time being near midnight, the moon, then rising, would be approaching her last quarter.
I cannot give a better illustration of the efforts made by a certain class of German critics to attach a symbolical mean- ing to every part of Faust, than the assertion of Leutbecher, that the two lines : —
" The spring-time stirs within the fragrant birches. And even the fir-tree {fichte) feels it now,"
indicate the birching which Fichte gave to Nicolai, in his paper entitled : " Friedrich Nicolai, his Singular Opinions," &c. ! Unfortunately for Leutbecher, this paper was pub- lished a year after Goethe wrote the Walpurgis-Night.
T
306 FAUST.
130. Hear them snoring^ hear them blowing! Some of the huge, rocky " snouts," near the village of
Schierke, have long been called Die Schnarcher, The Snor- ers. Near one of these rocks the magnet shows a great variation, whence the people of the neighborhood claim that it is the central-point of the world. Mephistopheles says, in the Classical Walpurgis- Night (Second Part of Faust) : —
The Snorers snarl at Elend, snorting peers ! And all is finished for a thousand years
Shelley translates the couplet with great spirit : —
"The giant-snouted crags, ho ! ho ! How they snort and how they blow ! "
His version of the Walpurgis-Night, although not very faithful, and containing frequent lines of his own interpola- tion, nevertheless admirably reproduces the hurryhig move- ment and the weird atmosphere of the original. This is the more remarkable since he disregards, for the most part, the German metres.
131. //ow raves the tempest through the air !
The word which I have translated " tempest," is Winds- braitt (wind's-bride) in the original. It is the word employed by Luther, in his translation of the Bible, for the italicized words in the following verse from Acts (xxvii. 14) : " But not long after there arose against it a tempestuous wind, called Euroclydon." A sudden and violent storm is still called Windsbraut by the common people, in some parts of Germany.
132. The witches ride to the Bracken's top. The same general explanation which has been applied to the Witches' Kitchen {vide Note 83) is also valid here. In the separate voices and choruses which follow, a meaning is constantly suggested, because each is arbitrarily attached to a basis of satire or irony, without any necessary consistency between them. Most of the German commentators suppose that the crowding and pushing of the " boisterous guests "
NOTES.
307
towards the summit of the Blocksberg is symbolical of the Storm and Stress period of German Literature ; but the argument could not be made clear to the English reader, without giving a comprehensive sketch of that period. I shall, therefore, only mention those references concerning which the critics are generally agreed.
Sir Urian is a name which was formerly used to designate an unknown person, or one whose name, even if known, it was not thought proper to mention. In this sense it was sometimes applied to the Devil. In the Parzival of Wolf- ram von Eschenbach, the unprincipled Prince of Punturtois is called Urian.
Hayward says of the omitted words in this verse : " In Aristophanic language — the witch vepderai, the he-goat KiJ'ajSpa."
133. Alone, old Baubo 's coming now. Baubo, in the Grecian myths, was the old nurse of Deme- ter, or Ceres ; who, when the latter was plunged in grief for the loss of Persephone, endeavored to divert her by inde- cent stories and actions, and thus, finally, provoked her to laughter. Goethe, therefore, makes her symbolize the gross, shameless sensuality, which, according to all popular tradi- tions, characterized the congregations of the witches, wiz- ards, and devils.
134. Woman 'j a thousand steps ahead. Rienier relates that Goethe, in the year 1807, said to him : '• When a woman once deviates from the right path, she then walks blindly and regardless of consequences towards evil ; and a man who walks the evil way cannot begin to keep pace with her, for he always retains a sort of con- science, while she allows nature to work unchecked."
135. Yet we We eternally sterile still. " That is, they know all the rules by which to avoid faults, but beyond this negative talent their powers do not reach, and the very care with which they wash and cleanse, hinders
3o8 FAUST.
their productiveness. * To be free from faults, is both the lowest and the highest degree ; for it springs from either impotence or greatness.' " — Hartung.
" It applies to the merely critical efforts of the day, which can never attain to a creative character." — Deycks.
'* These always washing, even bright and clean wizards,, are without doubt the aesthetic art-critics, to whom nothing is ever right, but who themselves are unable to produce the slightest thing." — Duntzer.
"The Blocksberg is the congregation of the evil ones, the collection of the rabble who perversely follow mistaken views of knowledge, will and power." — Rosenkranz.
136. Drizzle, whistling through the dark.
Shelley gives the following translation of this verse : —
" The wind is still, the stars are fled, The melancholy moon is dead ; The magic notes, like spark on spark, Drizzle, whistling through the dark."
The last couplet here so perfectly retains the character of Im Sausen spriiht that I do not see how it could be other- wise rendered without loss ; and I therefore prefer to borrow from Shelley rather than offer a less satisfactory translation.
137. / ''m climbing now three hundred years.
" This can only mean Science (more than three hundred years had elapsed since the revival of the sciences), which cannot properly advance, because it is hindered by pedantry, by the restriction of the schools (the rocky cleft)." — Diintzer.
" It means the cities and provinces of Germany, whereof there were many at that time, which, remained behind the general development of the age." — Deycks.
The "Half- Witch," who follows below, after the double chorus, is generally accepted as indicating those half-talents, which, with all their ambition, never rise above mediocrity, and are therefore bitterly jealous of the more gifted minds which easily distance them in the race.
NOTES.
309
138, Make room! Squire Voland comes ! "In the poets of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries we frequently meet with the word Vdlant as a designation of the Devil. In Berthold's Diary we find the Evil One once named as Squire Volland — in the play of Frau Jutta as the Evil Volland. The word means either 'seducer' or 'the Wicked One.' " — Duntzer.
139. MephiSTOPHELES {who all at once appears very old). Whether the four characters who have just been intro- duced are so many individual satires (Deycks, for instance, asserts that the Author represents the Romantic school, headed by Tieck and the Schlegels), is a point concerning which the critics are not agreed. But that the episode is a general satire on the conventional, and therefore reactionary, element in politics and literature is very evident. The words of Mephistopheles and his assumption of age must be ac- cepted as a burlesque imitation of the tone of the four speak- ers : he simply takes up the strain and exaggerates it to the point of absurdity. One of the German commentators, nev- ertheless, considers that Mephistopheles gravely expresses his own views. His explanation is : " And because the con- tradictions of life and thought have reached tlieir highest pitchT^t at th e same time have found their end and solu- tion, does Mephistopheles convince himself that he has ascended the Blocksberg for the last time."
The remaining fragments [Paralipomena) which belong to the Walpurgis-Night may properly be given here : —
Mephistopheles. Though but a bagpipe, give us music ! Haste 1 We have, like many noble fellows, Much appetite and little taste.
Mephistopheles.
The piper famous Of Hamelin, also mine old friend, The dear rat-catcher who can tame us. How goes —
3IO FAUST.
The Rat-catcher of Hamelin. I 'm very well indeed, I thank you ; I am a hale and well-fed man, Of twelve Philarithropines the patron, And therewithal \_a charlatan].
The Rat-catcher, here, is certainly Basedow, one of Goethe's early friends. He was a native of Hamburg, born in 1723, and was noted as a teacher, even before his adoption and advocacy of Rousseau's system of education gave him a wider and more important reputation. In 1774 he estab- lished a model school, under the name of The Philanthropin, at Dessau. After four years, he left the place, and until his death in 1790 was engaged in trying to establish similar in- stitutions in other cities.
The word in brackets is Hartung's suggestion for the completion of the line. Diintzer thinks it should be Gro- bian — " boor."
140. No dagger 'j here, that set not blood to flowing. Some commentators suppose that the ** Huckster- Witch " (literally, a seller of all kinds of old rubbish) was intended for the famous Nuremburg antiquarian, Von Murr ; others that the eccentric Hofrath Beireis,- who had a remarkable collection of curiosities at Helmstadt, was the original. This is not a matter of much importance : the English reader will be more interested in the resemblance between the catalogue of the witch's wares, and that given by Burns in " Tam O'Shanter." Goethe was probably acquainted with the poems of Burns at the time the Walpurgis-Night was written, ten years after the publication of " Tam O'Shan- ter." In a conversation with Soret, in 1827, he spoke with great admiration of the Scottish poet, and gave evidence of an intimate knowledge of his songs. For the sake of com- parison, I quote the passage from " Tam O'Shanter " : —
" Coffins stood round like open presses. That shaw'd the dead in their last dresses ; And by some devilish cantrip slight, Each in his cauld hand held a light, —
NOTES: 31,
By which heroic Tam was able To note upon the haly table, A murderer's banes in gibbit aims ; Twa span-lang, wee, unchristen'd bairns ; A thief, new cutted frae a rape, Wi' his last gasp his gab did gape ; Five tomahawks wi' bluid red-rusted ; Five scymitars, wi' murder crusted ; A garter, which a babe had strangled ; A knife, a father's throat had mangled, Whom his ain son o' life bereft, The gray hairs yet stack to the heft."
Hayward is incorrect in stating that Goethe's poem of « The Dance of Death " clearly preceded " Tam O'Shanter." The correspondence with Knebel shows that the former poem was written in October, 1813. Its character, more- over, is quite distinct and original : not a line in it suggests either Burns or the Walpurgis-Night.
141. Adam's first wife is she.
Burton, in his "Anatomy of Melancholy," says: "The Talmudists say that Adam had a wife called Lilis before he married Eve, and of her he begat nothing but devils.
The name, from the Hebrew root Lil, darkness, signifies the Nocturnal. The word occurs in Isaiah (xxxiv. 14) ; in the Vulgate it is translated Lamia, in Luther's Bible Kobold, and in our English version, screech-owl. According to the Rabbinical writings, Lilith was created at the same time with Adam, in such a manner that he and she were joined to- gether by the back, as it is written, " male and female cre- ated He them, and called their name Adam." In this condi- tion they did not agree at all, but quarrelled and tore each other continually. Then the Lord repented that He had made them so, and separated them into two independent bodies ; but even thus they would not live in peace, and when Lilith devoted herself to witchcraft and courted the society of Devils, Adam left her altogether. A new wife, Eve, was afterwards created, to compensate him for his do- mestic misfortune.
312 FAUST.
Lilith is described as having beautiful hair, in the meshes of which lurk a multitude of evil spirits. She has such power over infants — for eight days after birth for boys, and twenty days for girls — that she is able to cause their death. It was therefore the custom to hang an amulet, inscribed with the names of the angels Senoi, Sansenoi, and Sanman- geloph, around the child's neck at birth ; and from the Latin exorcism Lilla abi! sung by the mother, some have derived our word Lullaby ^ although it has also a more ob- vious derivation. Lilith was equally a seductress of young men, using her golden hair as a lure to captivate them ; but the youth who loved her always died, and after his death a single hair from her head was found twisted around his heart. Mr. JDante^Gabriel Rossetti has embodied this tra- dition in a fine sonnet.
142. A lovely dream once came to me.
^yron,. who read Shelley's translation of the Walpurgis-
Night in manuscript, seems to have remembered the dance
of Faust and the young witch, in writing the sixth canto of
" Don Juan."
In the two verses given to Mephistopheles and the old witch, the omitted words are thus omitted in the original. The manuscript in the Royal Library at Berlin contains the completed lines as written by Goethe. They are neither better nor worse than many passages in Shakespeare, having the coarseness, without the wit, of Rabelais ; hence the reader gains rather than loses by the omission.
143. Proktophantasmist. In Goethe's original manuscript and in the first edition of Faust this name is given as " Broktophantasmist," as in Shelley's English and Stapfer's French version. The mis- take was therefore Goethe's and not theirs, as later trans- lators have charged. The word (from irpooKTos, the buttocks) points so directly to Friedrich Nicolai, the Berlin author and publisher, that there is no difficulty in interpreting Goethe's satire. ^
NOTES.
zn
Nicolai, the son of a bookseller, was born in Berlin in 1733, and succeeded to his father's business at the age of twenty-five, after having already commenced his career as an author. He was the literary associate of Lessing and Moses Mendelssohn, in the " Letters concerning Recent German Literature " and the " Universal German Library," published between 1759 and 1792. He shared the hostility of the former to the romantic school, especially in its " Storm and Stress " period, and soon after the appearance of Goethe's " Sorrows of Werther " published a malicious and rather stupid parody entitled " The Joys of Werther." After the death of his two great friends he seems to have con- sidered himself their literary successor, and his pretensions to be recognized as a critical authority were so arrogantly and impudently displayed, that he soon brought upon him- self the enmity, not of Goethe alone, but also of Herder, Schiller, Kant, Fichte, and many other distinguished men. His " Account of a Journey through Germany and Switzer- land," (1781) in twelve volumes, gives, perhaps, the com- pletes! expression of his cold, restricted, yet dictatorial nature. He has been called the Erz-Philister — the arch- representative of the commonplace, conventional element in German literature.
Carlyle sajs : " To the very last Nicolai could never per- suade himself that there was anything in heaven or earth that was not dreamt of in his philosophy. He was animated with a fierce zeal against Jesuits ; in this, most people thought him partly right ; but when he wrote against Kant's philosophy without comprehending it, and judged of poetry as he judged of Brunswick mumme* by its utility, many people thought him wrong."
Goethe, perhaps, might have forgiven the parody of " Wer- ther," but Nicolai's declaration that he would " soon finish Goethe," at a time when he still retained considerable influ- ence with the public, while Goschen's edition of Goethe's works was neglected or assailed, was a more serious ofience.
* A thick, sweet beer, peculiar to Brunswick. VOL. I. 14
314
FA UST.
Goethe was provoked into using the only weapon which he considered fitting — ridicule, and he was assisted by Nicolai's own indiscretion. The latter, whose literary materialism was his prominent quality, — who fought the spiritual element as Luther fought the Devil, — was visited, in 1 791, with an avenging malady. He was troubled by apparitions of per- sons living and dead, who filled his room, and for several weeks continued to haunt and torment him although he knew them to be phantasms. He was finally relieved by the application of leeches about the end of the spine, whence Goethe's term Proktophantasmist, which may be delicately translated as " Rump-visionary." Nicolai published a very minute account of his affliction and the manner of cure, and thus furnished his antagonists with an effective source of rid- icule. He died in 181 1, after having seen himself pilloried in the Walpurgis-Night. His services, nevertheless, must not be wholly measured by the place which he here occupies. He was evidently honest, although vain and narrow-minded. For several years, his authority in Berlin was fully equal to that of Gottsched in Leipzig, a generation before ; and his friendship with Lessing and Mendelssohn is an evidence both of his culture and character. But when, not recogniz- ing the later giants, he attempted to stand in their way, he was crushed.
144. We are so wise, and yet is Tcgel haunted. Nicolai's arrogant manner is parodied in this passage. Since he does not believe in the spirits, it is incredible that they will not vanish. His annoyance at their appearance in Tegel — a small castle, a few miles northwest of Berlin, origi- nally built as a hunting-lodge by the Elector of Brandenburg, and more recently known as the home and burial-place of Wilhelm and Alexander von Humboldt — is explained by the circumstance that in 1797 apparitions were declared to have visited the castle. So much excitement was created by the report, that an official visit to Tegel was made by the authorities, and attempts were instituted, but without suc- cess, to discover the cause of the ghostly sights and sounds.
NOTES.
3^5
In Varnhagen von Ense's Tagebuch, published since his death, I find the following curious statement : —
" Tegel is haunted, as is known : this winter the Minister (Wilhelm) von Humboldt is said to have seen his double there. The servant entered, terrified to find him sitting at his writing-desk, and confessed, in his confusion, that he had just left him lying in bed. The Minister followed the servant into his bedchamber, also saw himself lying in bed, observed the thing for a while, did not approach nearer, however, but went quietly away again. After half an hour the apparition had disappeared."
145. Yet something from a tour I always save. This is an allusion to Nicolai's interminable narrative of his journey through Germany and Switzerland. The parody of his manner is continued in his repetition of the same idea, as in one of the Xenien which Goethe and Schiller wrote in partnership in 1796 : —
" What he thinks of his age he says ; he gives his opinion, Says it again aloud, says he has said it, and goes."
The allusion of Mephistopheles to the leeches needs no further explanation.
146. A red mouse from her mouth.
Goethe here refers to an old superstition concerning one of the many forms of diabolical possession. Perhaps he also remembered the following story, quoted by Hayward from the Deutsche Sagen : —
" The following incident occurred at a nobleman's seat, in Thiiringia, about the beginning of the seventeenth century. The servants were paring fruit in the room, when a girl, be coming sleepy, left the others and laid herself down on a bench, at a little distance from the others. After she had lain still a short time a little red mouse crept out of her mouth, which was open. Most of the people saw it and showed it to one another. The mouse ran hastily to the open window, crept through, and remained a short space
3i6
FAUST.
without. A forward waiting-maid, whose curiosity was ex- cited by what she saw, in spite of the remonstrances of the rest went up to the inanimate maiden, shook her, moved her to another place a little further off, and then left her. Shortly afterwards the mouse returned, ran to the former familiar spot where it had crept out of the maiden's mouth, ran up and down as if it could not find its way, and was at a loss what to do, and then disappeared. The maiden, how- ever, was dead and remained dead. The forward waiting- maid repented of what she had done, but in vain. In the same establishment a lad had before then been often tor- mented by the sorceress, and could have no peace ; this ceased on the maiden's death."
Goethe probably intended the mouse as a symbol of the bestial element in the Witches' Sabbath, by which Faust is disgusted and repelled. The apparition of Margaret, which has also a prophetic character, is the external eidolon of his own love and longing.
147. The Prater shows no livelier stir. The Prater (from the Latin pratum, a meadow) is the fa- mous public park of Vienna, which the Emperor Joseph II. dedicated "To the Human Race." It is an island enclosed by arms of the Danube, covered with a fine forest which is intersected in all directions by magnificent drives and walks. On holidays, Sunday afternoons, and pleasant summer even- ings half the population of Vienna may be found in the Pra- ter, which is one of the liveliest and cheerfullest places of recreation in Europe.
148. Servibilis. This term corresponds to the " supernumerary " of our theatres. In 1799, Goethe wrote an article upon " Dilettan- tism " in literature, of which the words spoken by the Ser- vibilis are an echo. Diintzer says, referring to this passage : " The Dilettanti, to whom we are now introduced, love an immensity of material, for which reason they continually pro- duce new pieces, and by scores together. "
NOTES. 317
149. Oberon and Titania's Golden Wedding.
This Intermezzo had no place in the original plan of Faust ^ and Schiller is chiefly responsible for itsr insertion. In the summer of 1796, Goethe, who had been reading the Xenia of Martial, wrote a few imitations in German directed against his literary antagonists. Schiller caught the idea at once ; they met and worked together, sometimes independently, while sometimes one furnished the conception and another the words. The distiches grew so fast that they proposed writing a thousand ; but the number published in the Musen- almanack of the following winter was four hundred and thir- teen. (They are all given in the Nachtrdge zu Goethe's Wer- ken, by Eduard Boas: Berlin, 1859.) The effect was like disturbing a hornet's nest : the air of Germany was filled with sounds of pain, rage, and malicious laughter. Mr. Lewes says : " The sensation produced by Pope's ' Dunciad ' and Byron's ' English Bards and Scotch Reviewers,' was mild compared with the sensation produced by the Xeniett, although the wit and sarcasm of the latter is like milk and water compared with the vitriol of the ' Dunciad ' and the English Bards.' " Mr. Lewes, however, hardly appreciates the peculiar sting of the Xenien, which do not satirize the authors as individuals, so much as their intellectual peculi- arities.
During the following summer, Goethe wrote " Oberon and Titania's Golden Wedding" — not in its present form — and sent it to Schiller for the Musenalmanach of 1798, as a con- tinuation of the aggressive movement. Schiller, writing to him on the 2d of October, says : " You will not find ' Obe- ron's Golden Wedding ' in the collection ; I have omitted it, for two reasons. First, I thought it might be well to abso- lutely leave out of this number of the Almanack all stings, and assume a harmless air ; and then I was not willing that the Golden Wedding, for the amplification of which there is so much material, should be limited to so few verses. It re- mains to us for next year, as a treasure which may be greatly increased."
3i8 FAUST.
There is no reply to this in Goethe's letters until the 20th of December, when he writes to Schiller from Weimar, after his return from Switzerland : " You have most considerately omitted Oberon's Golden Wedding. In the mean time it has increased to double the number of verses ; and I am in- clined to think that the best place for it would be in Faust.''' There were probably many changes, made by addition or omission, before it appeared as an Intermezzo in the edition of 1808. The " Walpurgis-Night's Dream" is a suggestion from Shakespeare. Most of the allusions may still be de- tected ; yet something has undoubtedly been lost, through the transitory character of the reputations thus satirized.
Considered in its relation to Faust, the piece can only be regarded as an excrescence. At the time it was added, how- ever, Goethe designed following it with another scene of the Walpurgis-Night, the outline of which is given in Note 170. Eckermann relates that, in like manner, Goethe inserted a number of aphoristic passages and- one or two poems, for which there was no special place elsewhere, in the conclud- ing part of Wilhelvt Meister, where their appearance was a puzzle to both critics and readers.
150. Sons of Miedingy rest to-day. Mieding was a theatre-decorator at Weimar, and a great favorite of Goethe and the Ducal Court. After his death, in 1782, Goethe celebrated him in the poem, '* Mieding's Death."
151. Puck.
Some commentators suppose that the Herald's announce- ment of the Golden Wedding refers to the final reconcilia- tion of the conflicting elements in German literature. In that case, Oberon and Titania must be accepted as repre- senting the Classic and Romantic Schools, or perhaps Rea- son and Imagination; their quarrel, in the "Midsummer- Night's Dream," may have suggested to Goethe their use as " properties " for the representation of his satirical fancies.
Puck appears to stand for the whimsical, perverse element
I
I
NOTES.
319
which frequently appears to control the tastes of the multi- tude, rather than for an individual. The name (from the same root as the Swedish poika^ a boy) and the tricksy nature of the imp in Shakespeare, harmonize with this in- terpretation. '
152. Ariel. Ariel is called from the " Tempest " to join his fellow- elves. Here he evidently represents Poetry, — the pure ele- ment, above and untouched by the fashions of the day.
153. Orchestra. Perhaps Goethe had in his memory the Frogs of Aristoph- anes. The Orchestra must either be the crowd of literary aspirants, who, like insects, keep up a continual piping and humming, which annoys the ear ; or it represents the chorus of followers surrounding the various literary celebrities of the time, and repeating their several views with a shrill, persistent iteration.
154. Solo. Some pompous bagpipe-droner is here indicated, but no- body seems to know whom. Goethe invented the word Schnecke-schnicke-schnack to describe the long-drawn, nasal snarl of the instrument.
155. Spirit, just growing into Form.
The name might be translated Embryo- Spirit. " Goethe undoubtedly herewith designates those botching poetasters, who, without the slightest idea that every living poem must flow spontaneously from within as an organic whole, miser- ably tack and stitch rhymes together, and thus produce mal- formations which they attempt to pass off as creations of beauty." — Diintzer.
The following distich from the Xenien has a certain resem- blance to the above ; —
" Everything in this poem is perfect, thought and expression, Rhythm : but one thing it lacks : 't is not a poem at all."
./^
320 FAUST.
156. A Little Couple. Hartung thinks the Counts Stolberg are the couple ; but this is improbable, since they are afterwards introduced as the Weathercock. Duntzer asserts that the verse represents the union of bad music and commonplace poetry.
157. Inquisitive Traveller. This is Nicolai, in another mask. The meaning of his reference to Oberon is not very clear, unless the latter rep- resents the classic school. When he speaks the second time in this Intermezzo the Inquisitive Traveller describes him- self much more distinctly.
158, Orthodox. Here speaks the class of bigots who persecuted Lessing, assailed Klopstock and Goethe, and declared Schiller's splendid poem, "The Gods of Greece," to be "a combina- tion of the most outrageous idolatry and the dreariest athe- ism." This phrase is from Count Friedrich Stolberg, who became one of the mouth-pieces of the sect. His attack is thus answered in the Xenien : —
" When thou the Gods of Greece blasphemed, then cast thee Apollo Down from Parnassus ; and now goest thou to Heaven instead."
159. Northern Artist. Some suppose this to be tl^e Danish artist Carstens, who died in Rome, in 1798; others select Fernow, a writer on art, who spent some years in Rome with Carstens ; others again insist that it is Goethe himself. Inasmuch as the point made in the verse has become very obscure, and was prob- ably not originally brilliant, the reader may take his choice of these conjectures.
160. Weathercock. Undoubtedly the Counts Stolberg. Goethe made a tour through Switzerland with them, in 1775, when they were ardent neophytes of "Storm and Stress," defying conven-
NOTES.
321
tionalities, and adoring " Nature " to such an extent that they attempted to bathe in public in the villages. Twenty- years later they were narrowly orthodox, reactionary, and absurdly prudish, — a transformation by no means uncom- mon with semi-talents, and which may be studied in the United States as well as in Germany. Turned on one side, the Weathercock is enchanted with the nude witches, and looks upon them as lovely brides ; on the other side, it ex- pects the earth to open and swallow them all.
The " Purist " of the fourth preceding verse is said to be the philologist Campe, who is called in the Xenien a " fear- ful washerwoman," cleansing the German language with lye and sand.
161. Xenies.
The word signifies gifts, presented to a visitor. After their publication in the Musenalmanach, the storm which arose against them became so furious that they were de- nounced in some quarters as having been directly inspired by the Devil. Hence the allusion to " Papa Satan."
162. Hennings.
The Danish Chamberlain Friedrich von Hennings, in his literary journal, the " Genius of the Age," attacked Goethe and Schiller in these words : " They are faithless to their high calling ; they have disgraced the Muse by their viru- lence, their coarseness, their dulness, their personal rancor, their poverty of ideas and their malignant delight in injury." Probably on account of this abuse he is introduced by name, first ; then in the following verse as " Leader of the Muses " (from the Musaget, another journal which he conducted); and a third time as the " Cidevant Genius of the Age," — his journal having died a natural death in 1803.
The first verse parodies his abuse of Goethe and Schiller ; the second hints that he would be more at home among Blocksberg witches than as a leader of the Muses ; and the third satirizes his practice of giving a place on the German Parnassus to such authors as flattered him by an obsequious respect for his critical views.
14* U
322
FA UST.
163. Crane.
" Lavater was a thoroughly good man, but he was sub- jected to powerful illusions, and the severe and total truth
Was not his concern : he deceived Kimself and others
His gait was like that of a crane, for which reason he appears as the Crane on the Blocksberg." — Goethe to Eckermann^ 1829.
164. Worldling.
Weltkind, literally " world-child," a term which Goethe applies to himself in his epigrammatic poem, "Dinner at Coblenz," where he sat between Lavater and Basedow : —
» " Prophete rechts, Prophete links Das Weltkind in der Mitten."
[Prophets right, and Prophets left, The World-child in the middle.]
He here speaks in his own person, satirizing Lavater and his followers.
The Dancers, who follow, are the philosophers, the sound of whose approaching drums turns out to be only the bitterns booming their single monotonous note among the reeds.
165. Good Fellow.
Hayward and most other English translators convert this name into " Fiddler," either supposing that where there is dancing there must be fiddling, or mistaking Fideler for Fiedler. This verse and the foregoing (the " Dancing Mas- ter") were first inserted in the last complete edition of Goethe's works, which appeared just before his death. The Good Fellow is apparently introduced solely for the purpose of commenting on the hate and mutual pugnacity of the phil- osophic sects.
The Dogmatist, who, if he is a particular individual, can- not easily be identified, suggests a passage in one of Goethe's letters to Schiller : " The Copenhagen clique and all the refined dwellers along the Baltic shore will derive from^he Xenien a new argument for the actual and incontrovertible existence of the Devil ; and we have therefore, after all, done them an important service."
NOTES.
323
166. Idealist.
It is generally admitted that this is Fichte, who, to borrow the words of a German commentator, " comprehended the Not-Me itself as a product of the self-determined Me, and not as something existing externally to the Me." When Goethe heard that a company of riotous students had col- lected before Fichte's house and smashed his windows in with stones, he remarked that Fichte might now convince himself, in the most disagreeable way, that it was possible *' for a Not-Me to exist, externally to the Me."
167. Sceptic.
This verse, like the preceding, represents a class. The Sceptic compares the Supernaturalists to treasure-seekers, who follow the appearance of flame and believe that they will soon grasp the reality of gold. Since Doubt {Zweifel) is the only rhyme — and, moreover, an imperfect one — for Devil { Teufel), in German, the Sceptic finds himself at home on the Blocksberg.
168. The Adroit.
Here the verses take a political turn, and the reader must bear in mind the general break-up of the old order of things in Europe, at the beginning of this century. The Adroit are those who shift themselves according to political changes, and walk on their heads or on their feet, as circumstances may exact.
The following verse represents the opposite class, who managed to sponge their way very well under the former Rigime, but cannot adapt themselves to the new order. They are the parasites of a system, and with any change their occupation is gone.
169. WiLL-O'-THE-WlSPS.
This and the next verse again indicate two exactly oppo- site classes. The former are the political parvenus who are thrown to the surface by a revolution, and, in spite of their
324
FAUST.
obscure origin, rank at once with the highest ; while the Shooting Star represents the titles and celebrities cast down from their high places by the same political movement, and looking for any form of help which may again set them upon their feet.
In the second following verse, — the " Heavy Ones," — some commentators see the ignorant, brutal, revolutionary masses ; others the writers of the Romantic school and their exaggerated manner. In Goethe's dithyrambic, " German Parnassus," he thus describes the crush and onset of the masses of rude literary aspirants : —
" Ah, the bushes down are trodden ! Ah, the blossoms crushed and sodden 'Neath the footsteps of the brood : Who shall brave their angry mood ? "
The latter interpretation is the more probable, since Ariel, who is Poetry, addresses them in words appropriate to liter- ary, not political masses.
When Puck speaks of himself as " the stout one," Goethe seems to have remembered the words of the Fairy in the ** Midsummer-Night's Dream," in taking leave of Puck : —
*' Farewell, thou lob of spirits ! I '11 be gone."
1 70. And all is dissipated.
The transition from this Intermezzo to the succeeding scene of Faust is too violent, and we cannot help wishing that the course of the drama had not been thus interrupted. Goethe, however, not only projected but partly wrote an ad- ditional scene, devoted exclusively to the pure diabolism of the mediaeval traditions. While we must admit that a correct instinct led him to withhold it, we still must feel that an inter- mediate scene is necessary. The gap which we recognize was felt by the author, whose work was produced at long in- tervals of time, and in fragments the character of which was determined by his moods of mind. But he always preferred an abrupt chasm to an unsatisfactory bridge.
The projected scene is generally styled " The Brocket)
I
NOTES.
325
Scene " by the German commentators, although Hartung takes the liberty of calling it " The Court of Satan." I trans- late it (with the exception of one short passage) precisely as it is given in the Paralipomenay with its rapid shortrhand out- lines, its incomplete dialogues and omitted lines, and leave all comment to the reader : —
THE HARTZ MOUNTAINS. A Higher Region.
After the Intermezzo : Solitude, Desert, blasts of trumpets. Light- ning, thunder from above. Columns of fire, stifling smoke. Rock, pro- jecting therefrom : 't is Satan. Much people around : delay : means of pressing through : injury : cries. Chant : they stand in the inner circle : the heat almost insupportable. Who stands next in the circle. Satan's address : presentations : investitures. Sinking of the appari- tion. Volcano. Disorderly dissolution, breaking and storming away.
Summit of the Brocken.
Satan on his Throne. A Crowd of People around. Mephistopheles in the ttearest circle.
SATAN {^speaking from the throne^. The goats to the left hand, The bucks to the right ! The goats, they have scented The bucks with delight : And though in their nostrils The sense were increased. The goats would endure it. Nor shrink in the least.
Faust and
Fall down on your feces, Your Master adore ! He teaches the people, With pleasure, his lore. To his oracles hearken : He '11 show you the clews To the endless existence That Nature renews 1
/^'
326
FA UST.
SATAN [turning to the right). Two things are before you, Both splendid and grand : The glittering gold
The one is purveyor, The other devours ; Then blest, who possesses Together their powers !
A VOICE.
What says then the Master ? Remote from his station, I catch not so clearly The precious oration. I cannot detect them, The beautiful clews, Nor see the existence That Nature renews !
SATAN {turning to the left). Two things are before you Of brilliancy clear : The glittering gold
Then learn, all ye women, Through gold to enjoy
CHORUS.
Fall down on your faces. Adoringly stirred !
0 blest, who is nearest And heareth the word !
A VOICE.
1 stand at a distance And listen so steady. Yet many a word has Escaped me already.
Who '11 cleariy repeat them .? Who '11 show me the clews To the endless existence That Nature renews?
NOTES.
327
MEPHiSTOPHELES [to a young witch). Why weep'st thou, lovely little dear? 'T is not the place to shed a tear. Hast thou been in the crowd too rudely pushed and penned ?
MAIDEN.
Ah, no ! The Master speaks so singular
And all are so delighted, it appears ; Perhaps the great ones, only, comprehend ?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
But, sweetheart, come now, dry thy tears ! So that the Devil's meaning reach thine ears,
SATAN.
Ye young ones, before us To stand ye are bidden ; I see that on broomsticks Ye hither have ridden :
V^l 'iy'
Separate Audiences.
X.
Let me attain to that — The power whereto thou knowest me aspirant. Then gratefully, though born a Democrat, I '11 kiss thy hoofs no less, O Tyrant !
MASTER OF CEREMONIES.
The hoofe ! but once may that befall :
Thou must make up thy mind to go still further.
X.
What, then, requires the ritual ?
SATAN.
Vassal, thou tested art I Now o'er a million souls thy freehold reaches :
He who can praise like thee the Devil's —
Shall never lack in sycophantic speeches.
:3' \
,98 FAUST.
ANOTHER PART OF THE BROCKEN. Lower Region.
Vision of Judgment. Crowd. They climb a tree. Remarks of the people. On burning soil. The Idol naked. The hands bound on the back.
CHANT.
Where hot and fresh flows human blood, For magic spells the reek is good. The brotherhood, both black and gray, Wins power for works that shun the day. What hints of blood, we most require ; What spills it, answers our desire. Round fire and blood a measure tread ! For now in fire shall blood be shed.
The wench she points, we know the sign ; The toper drinks, 'tis blood, not wine. The look, the drink, end what 's begun ; The dagger 's bare, the deed is done. Flows ne'er alone a fount of blood. But other streamlets join the flood : From place to place they gush and glide, And gather more to swell the tide.
The head falls off: the blood leaps and extinguishes the fire. Night Tumult. Chattering of Devils' changelings. Thereby Faust learns.
Some of the German commentators suppose that the "black and gray brotherhood" of this concluding chant are the Franciscan and Dominican monastic orders, and there- fore that the fragment refers directly to the Inquisition. Diintzer asserts that the heading "Another Part of the Brocken" indicates that this is a separate outline for the whole scene, intended as a substitute for the foregoing frag- ments, not as a continuation of them.
171. Dreary Day. Riemer states that Goethe dictated the whole of this scene to "him, as it stands, without a pause. This must have oc- curred between 1803, when he first entered Goethe's service,
NOTES. 329
and 1808, when the First Part was published. It does not therefore follow that the scene was then composed, as most of the critics seem to take for granted. The style of the original at once suggests the Werther period, and I cannot resist the impression that it was then first written, nearly in its present form. There are evidences in Goethe's corre- spondence that more than one scene of Faust existed in prose, many years before the time of which Riemer speaks ; and it is quite possible that other plans for bridging over the gap between the Walpurgis-Night and the Prison Scene have been lost. It would be consistent with Goethe's habits as an author, to return to his first conception after the failure of later ones, and, inasmuch as the metrical form of his poetry depended on temporary moods, or varieties of inspiration,
— that is, it was never mechanically planned in advance,
— it is not stretching conjecture too far to assume that, be- coming weary of so many fruitless attempts, he finally dic- tated the scene from memory, as originally written.
Another proof that this or a very similar scene was in existence before 1790, is the surprise expressed by Wieland to Bottiger that the Faust " Fragment " of that year did not contain the passage wherein Faust becomes so furious that even Mephistopheles is almost terrified at his violence. At this time, ten years had elapsed since Goethe read the man- uscript scenes before the Court circle of Weimar.
M. Stapfer insists that this scene was given in prose "in order that it might not be said that any possible form of expression was wanting to Faust.'''' The whole question of employing metre or prose for dramatic subjects had been thoroughly discussed by Schiller and Goethe, and the em- phatic expression of the latter, " Everything poetical in char- acter must be rhythmically treated," is sufficient evidence that he was here guided by necessity rather than choice.
The remaining passages of the Paralipomena belonging to the First Part may now be appropriately given.
It would appear from the following verse that Goethe at one time intended taking Faust to Rome, as in the le- gend : —
i
330
FAUST.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
From soot and witch away to speed The pennon southward now must lead ; Yet there, instead, the Fates compel With priests and scorpions to dwell.
The next quatrain was evidently intended for the mouth of Faust, on his southward journey : —
Warmer breezes, hither blow, On our foreheads playing ! Ye were wont to cheer us so In our youthful straying.
Then follows the commencement of a scene, which may have been designed as a substitute for that which suc- ceeds : —
Highway.
A cross by the roadside ; to the right an old castle on the hill; in the distance a peasant's hut.
FAUST.
What is 't, Mephisto ? Why such hurry ? Why at the cross cast down thine eyes ?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
I 'm well aware it is a prejudice ;
But, never mind, I find the thing a worry.
The last fragment contains nothing from which its desti- nation may be guessed : —
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Let none in earnest ask, or cavil ; I 'm of my race ashamed, of late : They fancy, when they say The Devil, They 've uttered something great.
172. Open Field. This brief, uncanny scene seems to have been inserted as a transition between the different keys of those which pre- cede and follow. The *' Ravenstone " is the old German word for a place of execution. Byron probably remembered
NOTES.
331
the expression, from Shelley's oral translation, when he wrote, in a rejected chorus of the " Deformed Trans- formed " : —
" The raven sits On the raven-stone."
173. My mother^ the harlot.
The last line of Faust's soliloquy at the door: ^^Fort! Dein Zagen z'ogert den Tod heran ! " is one of those para- doxical sentences, the meaning of which it is more easy to feel than to reproduce. Zogern, like its English equivalent, is an intransitive verb ; but Shakespeare's example may justify me in using the verb to linger^ with an object, as Goethe uses z'dgern. The former expression is the literal reproduction of the latter.
The song which Margaret sings is a variation of one in the Low German dialect, in a story called the Machandel- Boom (The Juniper-Tree : the English translator, mistaking Machandel for Mandel^ renders it "almond tree"), included by the brothers Grimm in their well-known collection of popular fairy lore. I borrow Hayward's abbreviation of the story : —
"The wife of a rich man, whilst standing under a juniper tree, wishes for a little child as white as snow and as red as blood ; and on another occasion expresses a wish to be buried under the juniper when dead. Soon after, a little boy, as white as snow and as red as blood, is born ; the mother dies of joy at beholding it, and is buried according to her wish. The husband marries again, and has a daugh- ter. The second wife, becoming jealous of the boy, murders him, and serves him up at table for the unconscious father to eat. The father finishes the whole dish, and throws the bones under the table. The little girl, who is made the in- nocent assistant in her mother's villany, picks them up, ties them in a silk handkerchief, and buries them under the juni- per tree. The tree begins to move its branches mysteri- ously, and then a kind of cloud rises from it, a fire appears in the cloud, and out of the fire comes a beautiful bird, which flies about singing the following song : —
332 ^^A(/ST.
' Min Moder de mi slacht't, Min Vader de mi att, Min Swester de Marleenken Socht alle mine Beeniken, Un bindt sie in een syden Dook, Legts unner den Machandelboom ; Kywitt ! Kywitt ! ach watt en schon Vagel bin ich ! "* ,
1 74. Afy wedding-day it was to be !
One of the commentators asserts that this line must be literally accepted, — that the day dawning was actually that fixed upon by Faust for his marriage with Margaret !
The details of the execution, which Margaret describes, belong to the past centuries. The tolling of the bell ; the breaking of a white wand by the judge after the reading of the sentence of death, as a symbol that the culprit's life is thus broken ; the binding to the seat, and the flash of the executioner's sword, are all features which accompanied the act.
175. Ye angels, holy cohorts, guard me ! Wilhelm Meister gives evidence that Goethe made a care- ful study of " Hamlet," and the following lines, on the appearance of the Ghost in the Queen's chamber (Act III. Scene 4), may have lingered in his memory : —
" Save me, and hover o'er me with your wings, Ye heavenly guards ! "
1 76. She is judged !
Goethe here employs, in a different sense, a phrase from the puppet-play. When the end of Faust's twenty-four years of enjoyment draws nigh, a voice calls from above : Frczpara te ad mortem ! Soon after, interrupted by Faust's prayers and words of remorse, the exclamation follows : Acctisatus es ! — then Judicatus es ! and finally : In ceternam damnatus es ! — whereupon Faust disappears from the eyes of the spectators.
Some, forgetting that the terms of the compact have not yet been fulfilled, interpret the words of Mephistopheles
NOTES. ^^^
" Hither to me ! " as implying that he thenceforth takes full possession of Faust. The voice from above announces that Margaret is saved, and the scene instantly closes, as if the mist and vapor out of which the forms arose had again rolled over them. Goethe so concealed his plan for the Second Part of Faust that we must first become familiar with it before we can return and trace in the First Part the threads which connect the two.
The "little world" of individual passion, emotion, and aspiration here comes suddenly to an end ; but beyond it still lies the "great world," where the interests and passions which shape Society, Government, and the development of the human race are set in motion to solve the problem of Faust's destiny
^
APPENDIX.
APPENDIX I.
THE FAUST-LEGEND.
SO many references have been made, in the foregoing Notes, to the various forms of the old Faust-legend, that a brief account of its origin and the changes in its character introduced by successive narrators is all that need now be added. The reader who is specially interested in the subject will find no difficulty in prosecuting his researches further : * no legend of the Middle Ages has been so assiduously un- earthed, dissected and expounded.
The slow revival of science in Germany, France and Italy, furnished the ignorant multitude with many new names which passed with them for those of sorcerers, and gradually dis- placed the traditions of Virgilius, Merlin, and others who had figured in their lore for many centuries. Raymond Lully, Roger Bacon, Paracelsus, Cornelius Agrippa, the Abbot Tritheim (Trithemius), and many other sincere though con- fused workers, were believed by the people to be in league with evil spirits, and their names became nuclei, around which gathered all manner of floating traditions. The fif- teenth and sixteenth centuries, from the movements in hu- man thought which they brought forth, were naturally rich in such stories, for even the most advanced minds still re- tained a .half-belief in occult spiritual forces. Melancthon, himself, is our chief evidence in relation to the person and character of the Faust of the legend.
* The collection of narratives given by Scheible in his Kloster, and the accounts in Diintzer's and Leiitbecher's commentaries on Fausty may still be easily procured.
VOL. I 15 V
338 FACST.
It is possible that there was another person of this name, and of some local reputation, in the fifteenth century. George Sabellicus, a noted charlatan, of whom the Abbot Tritheim writes in 1509, called himself Faushis minor. The name (signifying fortunate, of good omen) was not unusual : it was the baptismal name of the younger Socinus, who taught his Unitarian doctrines in Poland and Transylvania, and whom some have very absurdly attempted to connect with the legend; for he was not born until 1539. The Johann Faust of the popular stories was undoubtedly an individual /of that name, born towards the close of the fifteenth century, ^ in the little town of Knittlingen, near Maulbronn, in Wiirtem- berg. His parents were poor, but he was enabled by the bequest of a rich uncle to study medicine. He attended the University of Cracow (where he probably received his Doc- tor's degree), studied magic, which was there taught as an accepted branch of knowledge, and appears to have after- wards travelled for many years through Europe. Manlius. the disciple of Melancthon, quotes the latter as having said ; '* This fellow Faust escaped from our town of Wittenberg, after our Duke John had given the order to have him im- prisoned. He also escaped from Nuremberg, under the like circumstances. This sorcerer Faust, an abominable beast, a common sewer {cloaca) of many devils, boasted that he, by his magic arts, had enabled the Imperial armies to win their victories in Italy." It was probably the famous battle of Pavia (1525) of which Faust spoke, as the time of his visit to Wittenberg appears to have been about the year 1530.
Another evidence of Faust is found in the Index Sanitatis of the physician, Philip Begardi, which was published at Worms in 1539. He therein says : " Since several years he has gone through all regions, provinces and kingdoms, made his name known to everybody, and is highly renowned for his great skill, not alone in medicine, but also in chiro- mancy, necromancy, physiognomy,. visions in crystal, and the like other arts. And also not only renowned, but written down and known as an experienced master. Himself ad- mitted, nor denied that it was so, and that his name was
APPENDIX.
339
Faustus, and called \(\vs\%€[i philosophum philosophorum. But how many have complained to me that they were deceived by him — verily a great number ! "
The third witness is the theologian, Johann Gast, who in his Sermones Conviviales describes a dinner given by Faust at Basle, at which he was present. After mentioning the two devils who attended Faust in the form of a dog and a horse, he says : "The wretch came to an end in a terrible manner ; for the Devil strangled him. His dead body lay constantly on its face on the bier, although it had been five times turned upwards." Gast probably makes this last statement on the strength of some popular rumor. Faust seems to have grad- ually passed out of notice, and we have no particulars of his death which possess the least authenticity. Melancthon, in his discourses as Professor at Wittenberg, Luther in his " table-talk," and the other Protestant theologians of that period, almost without exception, expressed their belief in a personal, visible Devil, then specially active in their part of the world. Luther even describes the annoyances to which the Devil subjects him, with a candor which cannot now be imitated ; and the same belief naturally took grosser and more positive forms among the common people. The wandering life of Johann Faust, as physician and necromancer, must have made his name well known throughout Germany; his visit to Wittenberg and the reference to him in the three works already quoted, would distinguish him above others of his class, and every floating rumor of diabolical compact, power, and final punishment would thenceforth gather around his name as iron filings around a magnet.
The various books of magic entitled Faust's Hollenzwang (Infernal Influences) were all published with false early dates, after Faust's name became generally known, and are therefore of no value as evidence. The attempt, also, to connect him with Fust, Guttenberg's associate in printing, has no foundation whatever.
The original form of the legend is the book published by Spiess, in Frankfurt, in 1587. Its title runs thus : "History of Dr. Joh. Faust, the notorious sorcerer and black-artist :
/
340 FAUST.
How he bound himself to the Devil for a certain time : What singular adventures befell him therein, what he did and carried on until finally he received his well-deserved pay. Mostly from his own posthumous writings; for all presumptuous, rash and godless men, as a terrible example, abominable instance and well-meant warning, collected and put in print. James, IIII., Submit yourselves therefore to God : resist the Devil, and he will flee from you." The book must have been instantly and widely popular, for a second edition was published in 1588; a Low-German ver- sion in Llibeck and an English ballad on the subject, the same year ; an English translation in 1590, two Dutch trans- lations in 1592, and one French in 1598. From the first of these Marlowe obtained the material for his tragedy of " Dr. Faustus," which appears to have been first acted in London in 1593, the year of his death. It was published in 1604, and no doubt formed part of the repertory of the companies of English strolling-players who were accustomed to visit Germany.
In the Dutch translation dates are given, apparently for the purpose of making the story more credible. The year 149 1 is mentioned as that of Faust's birth ; his first compact with the Devil, for seventeen years, was made on the 23d of October, 1514; his second, for seven years, on the 3d of August, 1531 ; and he was finally carried off by the Devil at midnight, on the 23d of October, 1538. The term of twenty- four years, which is not a mystical number, is thus obtained by adding the two mystical terms, 17 and 7. In the English translation the village of KiiKiling, in Silesia, is given as Faust's birthplace ; another tradition, adopted in the origi- nal Frankfurt work, says Roda, near Weimar.
This oldest book repeats Melancthon's statement of Faust's studies at Cracow, and his fame as a physician and sorcerer. It then describes the manner of his summoning the Devil at night, in a forest near Wittenberg. Afterwards the evil spirit visits him in his dwelling, and three several " disputations " take place, at the third of which the spirit gives his name as Mephostophilcs, The compact for the
APPENDIX.
341
term of twenty-four years is thereupon concluded. When Faust pierces his hand with the point of a knife in order to !/
sign the compact, the blood flows into the form of the words O Homo Fuge ! signifying : " O man, fly from him ! " Meph- ostophiles first serves him in the form of a monk, supply- ing him with food and wine from the cellars of the Bishop of . Salzburg and other prelates, and with rich garments from Augsburg and Frankfurt, so that Faust and his Famulus, Christopher Wagner, are enabled to live in the utmost lux- ury. It was not long, however, before Faust desired to marry, but this was in no wise permitted, Mephostophiles saying that marriage was pleasing to God, and therefore a violation of the compact. This feature of the legend grew directly from the questions of the Reformation ; and there was a special meaning in giving the evil spirit the form of a monk. Wagner, moreover, is said to have been the son of a Catholic priest, picked up by Faust as a boy of fifteen, and by him educated.
Then follow many chapters wherein Faust questions Mephostophiles in regard to the creation of the world, the seasons, the planets, Hell and the infernal hierarchy, and is himself taken to the latter place in a chariot drawn by drag- ons. Afterwards, he wishes to visit the different parts of the earth : Mephostophiles changes himself into a horse, "but with wings like a dromedary," and flies with him through the air. They travel to all parts of Europe and finally come to Rome, where Faust lives three days in the Vatican, invisible. As often as the Pope makes the sign of the cross, he blows in his face : he also eats off" the Pope's table and drinks the wine from his goblets, until His Holi- ness commands all the bells of Rome to be rung, to dispel the evil magic. Faust then goes to Constantinople, where he appears in the Sultan's palace in the form of Mahomet, and lives in state. He next traverses Egypt, then Morocco, the Orkney Islands, Scythia, Arabia, and Persia, and finally, " from the highest peak of the Island of Caucasus " has a distant view of the Garden of Eden. After his return to Germany he visits the Court of the Emperor Charles V. at
342 FAUST.
Innsbruck, and at the desire of the latter calls up before him the shades of Alexander the Great and his wife. Many pranks are also related, which he plays upon the knights attending the Emperor.
The remaining part of the book is principally taken up with an account of the tricks and magical illusions . with which Faust d'iverted himself in Leipzig, Erfurt, Gotha, and other parts of Northern Germany. He here resembles Till Eulenspiegel much more than the ambitious student of Cra- cow, who " took to himself the wings of an eagle, and would explore all the secrets of heaven and earth." He swallows a span of horses and a load of hay ; he cuts off heads and replaces them ; makes flowers bloom at Christmas, draws wine from a table, calls Helen of Troy from the shades at the request of a company of students ; and shows himself everywhere as a gay, jovial companion, full of pranks, but exercising his supernatural power quite as often for good as for evil purposes. Finally, in the twenty-third year of his compact, Mephostophiles brings the Grecian Helena to him ; he becomes infatuated with her beauty, lives with her, and by her has a son whom he names Justus P'austus. On the night when his term of years expires, we find him in com- pany with some students in a tavern of the village of Rim- lich, near Wittenberg. He is overcome with melancholy, and makes the students an address wherein he expresses his great penitence, and his willingness that the Devil should have his body, provided his soul may receive pardon. At midnight a fearful storm arose : the next morning the walls and floor of the room were sprinkled with the bloody frag- ments of Faust, who had been so torn to pieces that no member was left whole. Helena and her child had dis- appeared. Wagner, by Faust's will, became heir to his property, part of which was a dwelling in the town of Wittenberg.
The great popularity of the legend in this form led to the preparation of Widmann's larger and more ambitious work, which was published at Hamburg, in 1599. Its title is : " The Veritable History of the hideous and abominable sins
APPENDIX. 343
and vices, also of many wonderful and derange adventures, which D. Johannes Faustus, a notorious black-artist and arch-sorcerer, by means of his black arc, committed even until his terrible ending. Fitted out ana expounded with necessary reminders and admirable instances, for manifold instruction and warning." The story is substantially the same as in Spiess's book, but many additional anecdotes are inserted, and all the details are amplified. Instead of three " disputations " between Faust and Mephostophiles, there are tett, and each is followed — as, in fact, every chapter in the work — by a long-winded theological discourse, called a Reminder {Erinnerung). These Reminders are pedantic and fiercely Protestant in character : no opportunity is let slip to illustrate the vices of Faust by references to the Roman Church and its Popes. The name of the Famulus is changed to Johann Wayger, and two or three stories, taken from Luther's table-talk, are arbitrarily applied to Faust ; whence the work is not considered by scholars to be so fair a repre- sentation of the popular traditions as that of Spiess.
A new edition of Widmann's book, revised but not im- proved by Dr. Pfitzer, was published in Nuremberg in 1674, and revived the somewhat faded popularity of the legend. The references to Faust in the Centuries of Camerarius ( 1602) and in Neumann's Disquisitio Hisiorica, were known only to the scholars, and Pfitzer's reprint of Widmann was therefore welcomed by the people, several editions having been called for in a few years. By this time it was also represented as a puppet-play, and the knowledge of Faust and his history thus became universal in Germany.
The only other work which requires notice is an abbrevia- tion of the legend, with some variations, written in a lively narrative style, and published at Frankfurt and Leipzig in the year 1728. The title is as follows: "The Compact concluded by the Devil with Dr. Johann Faust, notorious through the whole world as a sorcerer and arch-professor of the Black Art, together with his adventurous course of life and its terrifying end, all most minutely described. Now again newly revised, compressed into an agreeable brevity,
344
FAUST.
and furnished in print as a hearty admonition and warning to all wilful sinners, by One with Christian Intentions." This quaint and curious narrative was certainly known to Goethe, as well as Widmann's work. It is the last appearance of the legend in a popular form : thenceforth, through many chan- nels, the latter found its way into literature.
The original book of Spiess was followed in 1594 by an account of the life of Christopher Wagner, whom the Devil accompanied in the form of an ape, under the name of Auer- hahn (moor-cock). It is an evident imitation of the story of Faust ; there is a similar compact, there are magical tricks, adventures, and airy travels, with a like tragical conclusion. This book was translated into English the same year, and immediately afterwards into Dutch ; but there appears to have been no further German edition until 1712, when the original, with some additions, was reprinted in Berlin. In 1742, a play entitled "The Vicious Life and Terrible End of Joh. Christoph Wagner," was acted in the Frankfurt theatre.
The stamp of the sixteenth century — of its beliefs, its superstitions, its struggles and its antagonisms — is unmis- takably impressed on the legend. The singular individual, half genius, half impostor, who bore the name of Faust, must have typified then, as now, the activity of blind, formless, unresting forces in the nature of the people ; and through all the coarseness and absurdity of the stories which they have gathered around him, there are constant suggestions of the general craving for some withheld knowledge or right. In spite of Widmann's " Reminders " and the " One with Chris- tian Intentions," it is Very doubtful whether the moral of Faust's ending overcame the sympathy of the people with his courage or their admiration of his power. There are elements in the legend, the value of which even a purblind poet could not help seeing, yet which the loftiest genius may admit to be almost beyond his grasp. It is not the least of Goethe's deserts, that, although in his youth "a w^vi Fatisl was announced in every quarter of Germany." he took up the theme already hackneyed by small talents, and made it his own solely and forever.
APPENDIX. 345
APPENDIX II.
THE CHRONOLOGY OF FAUST.
f
FAUST is the only great work in the literature of any language which requires a biography. The first child of Goethe's brain and the last which knew the touch of his hand, its growth runs parallel with his life and reflects all forms of his manifold study and experience, •■^^liile, there- fore, its plan is simple, grand, and consistent from beginning to end, the performance embraces so many varieties of style and such a multitude of not always homogeneous elements, that a chronological arrangement of the parts becomes ne^ cessary as a guide to the reader.
During the illness which lasted for nearly a year after Goethe's return from Leipzig in 1768, while he was dis- cussing religious questions with Fraulein von Klettenberg, reading cabalistic works and making experiments in alchemy, the subject of Fajcst, which was already familiar to him as a child, through the puppet-plays, took powerful and perma- nent hold on his imagination.* He carried it about with
* The premonitions of the " Storm and Stress " period, which were by this time felt throughout Germany, directed the attention of many authors towards Faust, as a subject for dramatic poetry. Lessing was the first to take hold of it, but only fragments of three or four scenes of his trageSy have been preserved. The work was completed before his journey to Italy in 1775, and despatched from Dresden to Leipzig in a box which was lost, and never afterwards came to light. Captain von Blankenburg, in 17S4, gave the following testimony concerning the tragedy, the manu- script of which he had read : " He undertook his work at a time when in every quarter of Germany Fausts were announced as forthcoming ; and I know that he completed it. I have been positively informed that he only delayed its publication, in order that the other Fausts might first appear."
Of these other Fausts one was published at Munich in 1775, another at Mannheim in 1776, that of the painter Muller, Goethe's friend, in 1778. 15*
346 FAUST.
him in Strasburg, concealing it from Herder during their intercourse in the winter of 1770 -71, and postponing it to write his first great work, G'dtz von Berlichingen. He passed the summer of 1772 at Wetzlar, but did not begin the com- position of Werther, which was the direct result of his resi- dence there, until the following year. " Faust^' he says to Eckermann, originated (in manuscript ?) at the same time as Werther.''' Thus the conception which he had grasped at the age of twenty had been shaping itself in his brain for four years, before any part of it was put into words. Gotter, whose acquaintance he had made in Wetzlar, sends him in the summer of 1773 a poetical letter, in which he says : " Send me, in return, thy Doctor Faust, as soon as he has stormed out of thy head."
It is not probable that more than the opening monologue was written in 1773. Perhaps one or two of the first scenes with Margaret were added the following year ; for when Klopstock visited Frankfurt in September, 1774, Goethe read to him " some scenes " of Faust, which the older poet then heartily praised, though he spoke slightingly of the same scenes after they were published. In January, 1775, Goethe read all that he had completed ua to that time to his friend Jacobi, who wrote to him in 1791, ^lluding to the pub-- lished " Fragment " : "I knew nearly the whole of Faust already, and precisely for that reason I was doubly and trebly impressed by it. I have the same feeling now, as I had sixteen years ago." Except the "Cathedral" and-" Dun- geon" scenes, nearly all the parts in which Margaret is introduced, as well as " Auerbach's Cellar," and the con- versation of Mephistopheles with the Student, wete written in the spring of 1775. It is very evident that Merck was
a fragment by Lenz in 1777, and a fifth in Salzburg, in 1782. Between the publication of Goethe's " Fragment" in 1790 and that of the com- pleted First Part in 1808, nine additional Fausts, by various authors, made their appearance ; and between the latter date and the jxiblication of the Second Part, in 1832, fourteen more ! Therefore, including the work of Leasing, the material of the Faust-legend was employed by iiuenty-nine different authors, during the period which Goethe devoted to the elaboration of his own original design !
APPENDIX.
347
also allowed to see the manuscript, and that Goethe's de- sign was freely discussed among his friends. The publisher Mylius, in Berlin, writes to Slerck towards the end of 1774, that he will take the manuscript of Goethe's Stella for twenty thalers {!), although he fears that the author may expect " fifty, thalers for his next work, and perhaps a hundred louis d'or for his Doctor Faust ! "
Goethe says : " I brought the work with me to Weimar in 1775. ^ ^^d written it on foolscap, without any erasures ; for I was very careful not to write down a line which was not good and might not be allowed to stand." In this form he read it to the Court circle, which at that time included Wieland, Knebel, and Musaeus. As nearly as can be ascer- tained, the manuscript comprised the first half of Scene I., the latter half of Scene IV., and the following series of scenes to XVIII., with the exception of VI. and XIV. In addition to these, there were probably several scenes which were af- terwards omitted before the publication of the work, and one (Scene XXIII., in prose) which was restored, many years later. It is also evident that the plan of the whole work was at least roughly outlined by this time. Its development, however, — except through that secret, unconscious growth which kept it alive under the production of so many other works, — was now arrested for a long while. The concep- tions of a young poet are always in advance of his power ; but there is a good attendant genius who thwarts and delays the performance until the auspicious season.
In 1780, after the completion of Iphigenia in Tauris, and while his mind was still bathed in the Grecian atmosphere, Goethe wrote portions of the Helena^ for the Second Part of Faust. There seems to be no doubt that the manuscript was read to the Duke, Karl August, his mother, the Duchess Amalia, to Herder and Knebel ; but the scenes must have been afterwards suppressed, for the existing Helena is cer- tainly of a later origin. This is, nevertheless, the only positive evidence that anything was added to the work between 1775 and 1788.
Goethe's journey to Italy was not only the realization of
348 FAUST.
an early desire, but it was also a necessary escape from the irksome duties of his position at Weimar. He broke away forcibly from affairs of state in order to recuperate himself for poetry, and his eagerness and anxiety may be guessed from the circumstance that he kept his plan secret from every one except the Duke, fearing that he would never succeed if his intention should become known. It was Ihe old super- stition of keeping silence while lifting a buried treasure. The only manuscript he took with him was that of Faust, which he had brought from Frankfurt, and which was now so yellow and worn and frayed, that he says it might almost have passed for an ancient codex. Nevertheless, he did not succeed in returning to the work until the spring of 1788, just before his final departure from Rome," He writes in March : '* It is a different thing, of course, to complete the work now, instead of fifteen years ago ; but I think nothing is lost, since I feel sure of having regained the thread. In so far as regards the tone of the whole, also^ I am comforted : I have already finished a new scene, and if the paper were only smoked, I think no one could pick it out from the old ones." This new scene is the " Witches* Kitchen." It is doubtful whether the " Cathedral " and " Forest and Cavern " were also added in Rome, or after his return to Weimar.
Finally, in 1790, in Goschen's Leipzig edition of Goethe's works, Faust appeared as " A Fragmej^it." I have already mentioned, in the Notes, the scenes which it contains, from I. to XX., with the exception of a gap frqm the middle of Scene I. to the middle of Scene IV., and XIX. (Night : Val- entine's Death). The impression which the pu^ication pro- duced was not encouraging : the fragment was not generally understood, and the power exhibited in the separate scenes was only partially appreciated.* Goethe, occupied with
* Heyne, in Gottingen, wrote : " There are fine passages in it, but with them there are such things as only he could give to the world, who takes all other nnen to be blockheads." Wieland expressed his regret that it was such a patchwork of earlier and later labors. Schiller was then un- satisfied with the impression it produced, and only Kbrner and August Schlegel seep to have had some presentiment of Goethe's design and the grandeur of his fragmentary performance.
APPENDIX.
349
Wilhelm Meister and Hermann und Dorothea, banished it for a time from his thoughts ; and the first instigation which led him to resume the work came from Schiller, who thus wrote to him on the 29th of November, 1794 : '"^ut I have no less desire to read those fragments of your Faust which are not yet printed ; for I confess that what I have already read seems to me the torso of Hercules. In these scenes there is a power and fulness of genius "which clearly reveals the high- est master-hand, and I wish to follow as far as possible the bold and lofty nature which breathes through them." Goethe wrote in answer : *' I can at present communicate nothing of Faust ; 1 do not dare to untie the package in which he is imprisoned. I could not copy without continuing the work, and I have no courage for that, now. If anything can restore it to me in the future, it is surely your sympathy."
It seems, however, that during the following winter Goethe took the manuscript to Jena, and discussed the plan of the work with Schiller, for in the summer of 1795 Wilhelm von Humboldt writes to the latter, thanking him for his informa- tion concerning Faust. " The plan," he says, " is gigantic : what a pity, therefore, that it will never be anything else than a plan ! " If Frau von Kalb's memory is to be trusted, Goethe wrote about this time the interview between Mephis- topheles and the Baccalaureus (Part Second, Act II.), which has generally been referred to a much later date.
There is no evidence that the First Part of Faust was re- sumed before 1797, when the ** Dedication " and the " Pro- logue in Heaven " were probably written, together with the Intermezzo (Oberon and Titania's Golden Wedding), which was afterwards inserted by accident rather than design. In 1798 the " Prelude on the Stage " and perhaps the conclu- sion of Scene I., together with Scene II. and III., appear to have been written. It is probable that the concluding scene of the First Part (the " Dungeon ") was either produced or rewritten at this time. Goethe writes to Schiller that he is favored by " the lyrical mood ofSpring," and in several let- ters announces the progress he is making in the work. Dur- ing the year 1799 little, if anything, was accomplished; but
350 FAUST.
in 1800 Goethe commenced the composition of the Helena^ which is frequently mentioned in his correspondence with Schiller during that year. He writes on one occasion : " During these eight days, I have fortunately been able to hold fast the conception of the situations, of which you al- ready know, and my Helena has actually entered on the stage. But now the beauty in the rdle of my heroine attracts me so much, that I shall be disconsolate if I must at last (since the whole can only be represented as a spectral ap- pearance) transform her into a grinning mask." Schiller answers, apparently referring to former conversations : " It is a very important advantage, that you consciously advance from the (artistically) pure to the impure, instead of seeking a method of soaring from the impure to the pure, as is the case with the rest of us barbarians. In Faust, therefore, you must everywhere assert your right of force " {Faustrecht, an untranslatable pun).
In the autumn of 1800, Goethe laid the Helena aside, and devoted himself seriously to the completion of the First Part. He wrote the Walpurgis-Night and the scene of Valentine's death, and then endeavored to fill the gap remaining between the Intermezzo and the " Dungeon " scene. In this he was unsuccessful, and all his remaining labor from that time until the publication of the First Part, complete, in 1808, was probably merely that of adjustment and revision. The depression which weighed upon him after Schiller's death in 1805 affected his interest in Faust more than in any other of his literary plans.
When the First Part finally appeared, the following por- tions of the Second Part appear to have been already in existence : Scene I., and possibly a part of Scene II., of Act I. ; Scene I. of Act II. ; nearly the first half of Act III. {Helena) ; and some fragments of Act V. There is no doubt that Goethe knew, as he wrote to Zelter nearly twenty years afterwards, "what was still necessary to be written, but was not yet decided in regard to the hmvy It is not necessary to recapitulate here all the interruptions, the vary- ing literary and scientific interests, which came between the
APPENDIX.
J5I
plan and its fulfilment. Goethe was fifty-nine years old when the First Part was published, and the years passed by in other labors until he was seventy-five, before the impulse to complete the Second Part returned to him.
In 1824 he gave to Eckermann a programme which he had prepared for the completion of Wahrheit und Dichtung. It contained a prose outline of the continuation oi Faust, and Eckermann wrote in reply: "Whether this plan of Faust should be communicated or held in reserve, is a doubt which can only be solved after the fragments already in existence have been carefully examined, and it is clear whether the hope of completing the work must be given up or not." This hint seems to have aroused Goethe : JLhe plan was withheld, and the work was commenced, certainly in the fol- lowing year. The Helena, to which he felt most strongly attracted, received a new interest for him through the idea of representing Byron in the child Euphorion, and the Act was finished in 1826. It was published in 1827, in the fourth volume of " Goethe's Works, with the Author's Final Re- visions," under the title of " Helena : a Classico-Romantic Phantasmagoria," and at once excited the greatest interest and curiosity. From Edinburgh to Moscow the European critics seem to have been both delighted and puzzled by it. Carlyle wrote an admirable paper upon it, in which he shows great shrewdness in unriddling its symbolism. The encour- agement which such a reception of the single act gave to Goethe, stimulated him anew to complete the work, and for four years longer it became the leading motive of his life.
In the beginning of 1828 the first three scenes of the First Act — Faust's Awakening, the Emperor's Court, and the Carnival Masquerade — were published in the twelfth vol- ume of his works, and were received with an enthusiasm equal to that which the Helena called forth. Goethe, now nearly eighty years old, worked slowly and with a laggard power of invention ; but he held to his conceptions with the same tenacity as in his earliest literary youth, and suffered no favorable mood of body or mind to pass without adding some lines. The portions already completed were fastened
352
FAUST.
together, with blank sheets of a different color between, in- dicating the gaps yet to be filled ; and he rejoiced from month to month as the unwritten gave place to the written color. During 1829 and 1830 the First Act was completed, and the whole of the Second Act, including the Classical Walpurgis-Night, was written ; so that, at the beginning of 1 83 1, there only remained the Fourth Act and the opening scenes of the Fifth. This was the most laborious part of the task, and has left upon it palpable traces of labor ; but by the end of July the work was done, and on his eighty- second birthday, August 28, 1831, Goethe sealed up the complete manuscript of the Second Part, to be opened and published aft^ his death. " From this time on," he said to Eckermann, " I look upon my life as a perfect gift, and it is really indifferent what I may further do, or whether I shall do anything." Seven months afterwards, he was dead.
Faust is, in the most comprehensive sense, a drama of the Life of Man. The course of its moral and intellectual plot, as first designed by the author, is now and then delayed by the material added to it during the different phases of his own development, but was never changed. This plot is chiefly unfolded to the reader through the medium of two elements, which, from first to last, are combined in it, yet may easily be separated. The difficulties in the way of its com- prehension have been caused by the introduction of a third, accidental, and unnecessary element, which is so interwoven with the others (especially in the Second Part), that the reader is often led away from the true path before he is aware of it.
The first of the elements, and the one which gives indi- vidual coloring and reality to the characters, Goethe drew from his own experience. All the earlier scenes, he de- clares, were subjectively written : Mephistopheles and Faust were the opposite poles of his own nature. His own ambi- tion, disappointment, love, unrest, are all reflected through- out the First Part; and the poise of his riper nature, his aesthetic passion and his religious feeling, in the opening of the First Act, the Helena, and the Fifth Act of the Second Part. The second element, drawn from his objective study
APPENDIX.
353
of men and his observation of the world, is blended with the former, but especially manifests itself in the aphoris' tic character of much of the Second Part, and in the sym- bolism which he so constantly employs for the sake of more compressed expression. I have endeavored to indicate, in the Notes, all that can be traced to his own personal expe- rience, and thereby to furnish a guide which may direct the reader to that more intimate and satisfactory knowledge which will follow his own studies.
What I have called the accidental element is illustrated by the Intermezzo, which was wilfully inserted ; by the lit- erary satire in the Witches' Kitchen and the Walpurgis- Night ; and in the Second Part by the paper-money scene in the First Act, the controversy of the Neptunists and Pluto- nists in the Second and the Fourth, and the introduction of Byron in the Third. All these features must be eliminated from the moral and intellectual course of the action, with which they have not the slightest connection. Indeed, the whole of the Classical Walpurgis-Night, admirable and won- derful as it is, in parts, forms a very roundabout mode of transition from the Emperor's Court to the allegory of He- lena. Only by holding fast. to the leading idea can we safely follow its labyrinthine windings.
What Goethe himself said of Faust in his eightieth year, in speaking of Stapfer's French translation, may be quoted in conclusion, as an estimate equally modest and just : " The commendation which the work has received, far and near, may perhaps be owing to this quality — that it permanently l^reserves the period of development of a human soul, which is tormented by all that afflicts mankind, shaken also by all that disturbs it, repelled by all that it finds repellent, and \
made happy by all that which it desires. The author is at present far removed from such conditions : the world, like- wise, has to some extent other struggles to undergo : never- theless, the state of men, in joy and sorrow, remains very much the same ; and the latest-born will still find cause tc/ acquaint himself with what has been enjoyed and suffered be- fore him, in order to adapt himseirH) that which awaits him."
354
FAUST.
APPENDIX III.
MARLOWE'S ''DR. FAUST US.''
MR. DYCE'S recent edition of Marlowe renders it un- necessary that I should add an account of the manner in which the latter has treated the legend. His material, as I have already stated, was the English translation of Spiess's book, published in London in 1590. I quote the first scene, because it offers both a resemblance and a contrast to the first scene of Goethe : —
Enter Chorus.
Not marching in the fields of Tharsimen,
Where Mars did mate the warlike Carthigen ;
Nor sporting in the dalliance of love,
In courts of kings, where state is overturned ;
Nor in the pomp of proud, audacious deeds,
Intends our muse to vaunt his heavenly verse :
Only this, gentles, we must now perform,
The form of Faustus' fortunes, good or bad :
And now to patient judgments we appeal,
And speak for Faustus in his infancy :
Now is he born of parents base of stock,
In Germany, within a town called Rhodes ;
At riper years to Wittenburg he went ;
So much he profits in divinity,
That shortly he was graced with Doctor's name,
Excelling all, and sweetly can dispute
In th' heavenly matters of theology :
Till, swoln with cunning and a self-conceit,
His waxen wings did mount above his reach ;
And melting heavens conspired his overthrow ;
For falling to a devilish exercise.
And glutted now with learning's golden gifts.
He surfeits on the cursed necromancy.
Nothing so sweet as magic is to him,
APPENDIX. 355
Which he prefers before his chiefest bliss, Whereas his kinsman chiefly brought him up. And this the man that in his study sits.
Act the First. — Scene I. Faustus in his study.
Faust. Settle thy studies, Faustus, and begin, To sound the depth of that thou wilt profess ; Having commenced, be a divine in show. Yet level at the end of every art, And live and die in Aristotle's works. Sweet analytics, 'tis thou hast ravished me. Bene disserere est fines logicis Is, to dispute well, logic's chiefest end? Affords this art no greater miracle .'' Then read no more ; tliou hast attained that end. A greater subject fitteth Faustus' wit : Bid economy farewell : and Galen come. Be a physician, Faustus ; heap up gold, And be eternized for some wondrous cure ; Sutntnunt bonutn titedicince sanitas ; The end of physic is our bodies' health. Why, Faustus, hast thou not attained that end? Are not thy bills hung up as monuments. Whereby whole cities have escaped the plague, And thousand desperate maladies been cured? Yet thou art still but Faustus and a man. Couldst thou make men to live eternally. Or, being dead, raise them to life again. Then this profession were to be esteemed. Physic, farewell ! Where is Justinian ? Si utia eademqzie res legatur duobus, A Iter rem, alter valorem ret, &^c. A petty case of paltry legacies. E xhereditari filium non potest pater nisi, &*c. 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, Faustus: view it well. Stipendium peccati mors est : ha ! stipendium, &*c. The reward of sin is death : that 's hard.
356
FAUST.
Si peccasse negamus, /allimur, et nulla est in nobis Veritas :
If we say 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:
What will be, shall be ; divinity, adieu !
These metaphysics of magicians,
And necromantic books are heavenly !
Lines, circles, letters, characters :
Ay, these are those that Faustus most desires.
Oh ! what a world ot profit and delight.
Of power, of honor, and omnipotence.
Is promised to the studious artisan !
All things that move between the quiet pole
Shall be at my command Emperors and kings
Are but obeyed in their several provinces ;
But his dominion that exceeds in this,
Stretches as far as doth the mind of man :
A sound magician is a demigod.
Here tire ray Drains to get a deity.
{Enter Wagner.)
FAUST
BY
JOHANN WOLFGANG VON GOETHE
TRANSLATED, IN THE ORIGINAL METRES, BY
BAYARD TAYLOR
TWO VOLUMES IN ONE VOL. IL
Sein Olir vernimmt den Einklang der Natur : Was die Geschichte reicht, das Leben gibt, Sein Bussen nimmt es gleich und willig auf : Das wait Zerstreute sammelt sein Gemiith Und sein Gefuhl belebt das Unbelebte.
Goethe: Tasso.
BOSTON AND NEW YORK HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY
COPYRIGHT, 1871, BY BAYARD TAYLOR,
COPYRIGHT, 1899, BY MARIE HANSEN TAYLOR,
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
INTRODUCTION.
Eleusin servat quod ostendat revisentibus.
Seneca, Qwest. Nat. vii. 31.
I KNOW how much prepossession I encounter, in claiming for the Second Part of Faust a higher intellectual character, if a lower dramatic and poetical value, than the First Part. In Mr. Hayward's Appendix, and Mr. Lewes' Life of Goethe, the Second Part is virtually declared to be a secondary, unimportant work, chaotic in de- tail and without any consistent design as a whole ; in short, the mistake of Goethe's old age, instead of being, as it really is, the conception of his prime, partly written, and entirely planned, before the publication of the First Part.
The five translations which have already ap- peared have, unfortunately, not succeeded in pre- senting the work clearly and attractively to the English reader Those of Bernays, Macdonald, and Gurney are characterized by knowledge of the text, but give no satisfactory clew to the author's
v
iv FAUST.
design ; while that of Dr. Anster, the most read- able of all, and showing a further insight into the meaning, is a very loose paraphrase, rather than a translation. The original metres, which are here even more important than in the First Part, have been retained by no translator. I do not wish to be understood as passing an unfriendly judgment upon the labors of my predecessors ; for I have learned what difficulties stood in their way, and also how easy it is, in the perplexing labyrinth of German comment, to miss the simplest and surest key to Goethe's many-sided allegories.
The first mistake which many of the critics have made is in attempting any comparison of the two parts. While the moral and intellectual problem, which is first stated in the Prologue in Heaven^ advances through richer and broader phases of development to its final solution, the story which comes to an end in Margaret's dungeon is not resumed. The Second Part opens abruptly in a broad, bright, crowded world ; we not only breathe a new atmosphere, but we come back to Faust and Mephistopheles as if after a separation of many years, and find that our former acquaintances have changed in the interval, even as ourselves. " It must be remembered," says Goethe, "that the First Part is the development of a somewhat ob- scure individual condition. It is almost wholly subjective ; it is the expression of a confused, restricted, and passionate nature." On the other hand, we learn from the study of Goethe's life
I
INTRODUCTION. V
that the wealth of the material which he had accumulated for the Second Part occasioned an embarrassment in regard to the form, which partly accounts for the long postponement of the work. He expressly declares* that the Second Part of the drama must be performed upon a different, a broader, and more elevated stage of action ; that one who has not lived in the world and acquired some experience will not know how to compre- hend it ; and that, like an unsolved riddle, it will repeatedly allure the reader to the renewed study of its secret meanings.
The last of these declarations is not egotistical, because it is so exactly true. No commentary can exhaust the suggestiveness of the work. Schiller doubted that a poetic measure could be formed, capable of holding Goethe's plan ; and we find, indeed, that the substance overflows its bounds on all sides. With all which the critics have accom- plished, they have still left enough untouched to allow fresh discoveries to every sympathetic read- er. There are circles within circles, forms which beckon and then disappear ; and when we seem to have reached the bottom of the author's mean- ing, we suspect that there is still something be- yond. The framework lay buried so long in the sea of Goethe's mind, that it became completely incrusted, here and there with a barnacle, it is
* Announcement of the Helena (quoted in note 103). Correspondence with Schiller, and Eckermann's Conversa- tions.
vi FAUST.
true, but also with a multitude of pearl-oysters. Many of the crowded references are directly de- ducible from the allegory ; still more are made clear to us through a knowledge of Goethe's devel- opment, as man and poet ; while some few have lost the clew to their existence, and must probably always stand, orphaned and strange, on one side or other of the plain line of development running through the poem.
The early disparagement which the Second Part of Faust received is only in our day beginning to give way to an intelligent recognition of its grand design, its wealth of illustration, and the almost inexhaustible variety and beauty of its rhythmi- cal forms. Although its two chief offences (to the German mind) are not yet, and perhaps never can be wholly, condoned, the period of misconception is over, and the voices of rage or contempt, once so frequently heard, are becoming faint and few. The last twenty-five years have greatly added to our means of elucidation ; and much that seemed to be whim or purposed obscurity is now revealed in clear and intelligible outlines. When Vischer compares the work to a picture of the old Titian, wherein the master-hand is still recognized, but trembling with age and stippling in the color with slow, painful touches, he forgets that the design was already drawn, and some of the figures nearly completed, in the Master's best days. I should rather liken it to a great mosaic, which, looked at near at hand, shows us the mixture of precious
INTRODUCTION. vii
marbles and common pebbles, of glass, jasper, and lapis-lazuli ; but, seen in the proper perspec- tive, exhibits only the Titanic struggle of Man, surrounded with shapes of Beauty and Darkness, towards a victorious immortality.
It would have been better, undoubtedly, if the completion of the work had not been so long delayed, and Goethe had thereby been able to give us, with more Hmited stores of knowledge, a greater poetic unity. It is hardly the feebleness of the octogenarian which we perceive. The ac- quisitions of the foregoing thirty years seemed to have gradually formed a crust over the lambent poetical element in his nature ; but the native force of the latter is nowhere so wonderfully re- vealed as here, since it is still able to crack and shiver the erudite surface of his mind, and to flame out clearly and joyously. Wherever it thus displays itself, it is still the same pure, illuminat- ing, solving and blending power, as in his earlier years.
The reader to whom this book is a new land must of necessity be furnished with a compass and an outline chart before he enters it. He may, otherwise, lose his way in its tropical jun- gles, before reaching that " peak in Darien," from which Keats, like Balboa, beheld a new side of the world. While the Notes contain as much in- terpretation of the details of the plan as seems to be possible at present, I consider that a brief previous statement of the argument is absolutely required.
X
viii FA UST.
We must forget the tragical story of the First Part, and return to the compact between Faust and Mephistopheles, where the latter declares: " The little world, and then the great, we '11 see." The former world is at an end, and, ^f ter an open- ing scene which symbolizes the he^aling influences of Time and Nature, Faust and his companion appear at the Court of the German Emperor. The ruined condition of the realm gives Mephis- topheles a chance of acquiring place and power for Faust, through the introduction of a new finan- cial system. While this is in progress, the days of Carnival furnish the occasion for a Masquer- ade, crowded with allegorical figures, representing Society and Government. Goethe found that no detached phases of life were adequate to his pur- pose. Faust, in the First Part, is an individual, in narrow association with other individuals : here he is thrown into the movement of the world, the phenomena of human development, and becomes, to a certain extent, typical of Man. Hence the allegorical character of the Masquerade, which is confusing, from the great range and mixture of its symbolism.
The Emperor's wish to have Paris and Helena called from the Shades (as in the original Legend) is expressed when Faust is already growing weary of the artificial life of the Court. Mephistopheles s'ends him to the mysterious Mothers, that he may acquire the means of evoking the models of Beauty ; and at this point the artistic, or aesthetic
INTRODUCTION. ix
element— tha-sense^of-the Beautiful in the human mind — is introduced as a most important agent of liuman culture, gradually refining and purifying Faust's nafure^ and lifting it forever above all the meanness and littleness of the world. Mephis- topheles is bound by his compact to serve, even in fulfilling this aspiration which he cannot compre- hend j but he obeys unwillingly, and with con- tinual attempts to regain his diminishing power. After the apparition of Helena, and Faust's rash attempt to possess at once the Ideal of the Beauti- ful, the scene changes to the latter's old Gothic chamber, where we meet the Student of the First Part as a Baccalaureus, and find Wagner, in his laboratory, engaged in creating a Homunculus. This whimsical sprite guides Faust and Mephis- topheles to the Classical Walpurgis-Night, where the former continues his pilgrimage towards He- lena (the Beautiful), while the latter, true to his negative character, finally reaches his ideal of Ugliness in the Phorkyads. The allegory of the Classical Walpurgis-Night is also difficult to be unravelled, but it is not simply didactic, like that of the Carnival Masquerade. A purer strain of poetry breathes through it, and the magical moon- light which shines upon its closing Festals of the Sea prepares us for the sunbright atmosphere of the Helena.
This interlude, occupying the Third Act, is an- other allegory, complete in itself, and only lightly attached to the course of the drama. While it
/
)f
X . FA UST.
exhibits, in the latter connection, the aesthetic purification of Faust's nature, its leading motive is the reconciliation of the Classic and Romantic elements in Art and Literature. Euphorion, the child of Faust and Helena, who vanishes in flame, leaving only his garments and lyre behind him, is then presented to us as Byron, and the Act closes with a transmigration of " the fair humanities of old religion " into the spirit and sentiment of Modern Poetry.
The Fourth Act exhibits Faust to us, enlight- /] " ened and elevated above his former self, and anx- ious for -a grand and worthy sphere of activity. His aim is, to bend Nature to the service of Man, ' — to'bar the ocean from a great stretch of half- submerged land, and thus conquer the aimless force of the unruly elements. Mephistopheles takes advantage of the political dissensions of the Empire, and the appearance of a new claimant for the crown, at the head of an army, to proffer his own and Faust's services to the Emperor. A bat- tle takes place ; the rebels are defeated, through the magic arts of Mephistopheles, and Faust re- ceives the sea-shore in feoff forever.
The Fifth Act opens on the accomplished work. Faust, a hundred years old, inhabits a palace, in the midst of a green, thickly-peopled land, diked from the sea. But he has not yet found the one moment of supreme happiness. A pestilential marsh still remains to be drained ; and he has not succeeded in gaining the coveted possession of a
%
INTRODUCTION. xi
sand-hill near his palace, the residence of an old couple who have charge of a little chapel on the downs. Mephistopheles endeavors to implicate him in the guilty seizure of this Naboth's vine- yard, but is again baffled. Faust, become blind, finds a clearer light dawning upon his spirit : while the workmen are employed upon the canal which y completes his great work, he perceives that he has created free and happy homes for the coming gen- erations of men, and the fore-feeling of satisfied achievement impels him to say to the passing / Moment : " Ah, still delay, — thou art so fair ! " \J When the words are uttered, he sinks upon the earth, dead.
The struggle of Mephistopheles with the angels for the possession of Faust's soul, and a scene in Heaven, where Margaret appears, like Beatrice in Dante's Paradiso, as the spiritual guide of her redeemed lover, close the drama. Although the condition of the compact has been fulfilled, Meph- istopheles loses his wager. In willing the Bad, . he has worked the Good : the " obscure aspiration " in Faust's nature has lifted itself, through Love, Experience, the refining power of the Beautiful, and beneficent activity, to more than an instinct, to a knowledge of "the one true way." The Epilogue in Heaven carries us back to the Prol- ogue, and indicates to us, through a wondrous; mystic symbolism, the victorious vitality of Good and the omnipotence of the Divine Love.
Briefly, then, Act L represents Society and Gov-
t,
^/
xii FA [/ST.
ernment; Acts II. and III. the development of the Idea of the Beautiful as the highest human attribute, with almost a saving power ; Act IV., War ; and Act V., Beneficent Activity, crowned by Grace and Redemption. The financial scheme, the discussion of geological theories, the union of the Classic and Romantic, and the introduction of those three tricksy spirits, the Boy Charioteer, Homunculus, and Euphorion (whom I have inter- preted as different personifications of Goethe's own Poetic Genius), must be considered as digres- sions from the direct course of the plot. In order to understand how they originated, and the prob- able raisons d^etre by which the author justified them to his own mind, I refer the reader to the Notes, which will be found indispensable. I might, indeed, have greatly added to the latter, had I not felt obliged to consider that those to whom the material is not familiar may as easily lose their clew through too much detail of inter- pretation as from the unexplained text.
Goethe's chief offence is the license which he allows himself in regard to his language. We find, especially in those portions which were last written, frequent instances of crabbed, arbitrary construction, words and compounds invented in defiance of all rule, and various other deviations from his own full, clear, and rounded style.* This
* " That which first repels the reader in this second Faust-drama is the philological element, which is found throughout the greater part of it. A dragging march of the
INTRODUCTION. xiii
has been contemptuously called the " Privy-Coun- cillor's dialect " {Geheimrathssprache) by some of the critics, who assail Goethe with cries of wrath ; but it is a feature of the original which cannot be reproduced in the translation, and ought not to be, if it could be. If the reader now and then falls upon an unusual compound, or a seemingly forced inversion of language, I must beg him to remember that my sins against the poetical laws of the English language are but a small percentage of Goethe's sins against the German. The other difficulty seems to lie partly in the intellectual constitution of the critics themselves, many of whom are nothing if not metaphysical. The ful- ness of the matter is such that various apparently consistent theories may be drawn from it, and much of the confusion which has thence ensued has been charged to the author's account. Here, as in the First Part, the study of Goethe's life and other works has been my guide through the laby- rinth of comment ; I have endeavored to give, in every case, the simplest and most obvious inter- pretation, even if, to some readers, it may not seem the most satisfactory.
diction, awkwardly long and painfully complicated sentences, a mass of unsuccessful verbal forms and adaptations, unne- cessarily obscure images, forced transitions, affected superla- tive participles and compounds, — all these things operate repellently enough upon many persons, and spoil, in advance, their enjoyment of the work." — JCdstlin, Goethe's Faust, Seine Kritiker und Ausleger.
/
Xiv FAUST.
I have adhered, as those familiar with the origi- nal text will perceive, to the same plan of trans- lation. The original metres are more closely reproduced than even in the First Part, for the predominance of symbol and aphorism, in the place of sentiment and passion, has, in this re- spect, made my task more easy; and there are, from beginning to end, less than a score of lines where I have been compelled to take any liberty with either rhythm or rhyme. Indeed, the form, especially in the Helena, is so intimately blended with the symbolical meaning, that I cannot con- ceive of the two being separated ; for they are soul and body, and separation, to us, is death of the one and disappearance of the other. The classic metres, which Goethe uses, surely lend themselves as readily to the English language as to the German ; and, while I have rendered this portion of the drama almost as literally as would be possible in prose, I can only hope that the unaccustomed ear will not be startled and repelled by its new metrical character. I am not aware that either the iambic trimeter or the trochaic tetrameter has ever been introduced into English verse. The classic reader, who may miss the caesura here and there, will, I trust, recognize both the necessity and the justification.
In concluding this labor of years, I venture to express the hope that, however I may have fallen short of reproducing the original in another, though a kindred language, I may, at least, have assisted
INTRODUCTION. XV
in naturalizing the masterpiece of German litera- ture among us, and to that extent have explained the supreme place which has been accorded to Goethe among the poets of the world. Where I have differed from the German critics and com- mentators, I would present the plea, that the laws of construction are similar, whether one builds a cottage or a palace ; and the least of authors, to whom metrical expression is a necessity, may have some natural instinct of the conceptions of the highest.
B. T. March, 1871.
I
CONTENTS.
|
SECOND PART OF THE TRAGEDY. |
||
|
Scene |
ACT I. |
Page |
|
f^- |
A Pleasant Landscape .... |
• 3 |
|
In. |
The Emperor's Castle .... |
8, |
|
III. |
Spacious Hall {Carnival Masquerade) . |
21 |
|
IV. |
Pleasure-Garden {Paper- Money Scheme) . |
55 |
|
V. |
A Gloomy Gallery {The Mothers) |
. 64 |
|
VI. |
Brilliantly Lighted Halls . |
70 |
|
VII. |
Hall of the Knights {Paris and Helena) ACT II. |
• 74 |
|
I. |
A Gothic Chamber, formerly Faust's |
. 84 |
|
II. |
Laboratory {Homunculus) .... |
94 |
|
III. |
Classical Walpurgis-Night. |
|
|
I. The Pharsalian Fields . |
. 103 |
|
|
II. Peneus |
114 |
|
|
III. On the Upper Peneus, as before |
. 124 |
|
|
IV. Rocky Coves of the ^gean Sea |
145 |
|
|
V. Telchines of Rhodes. |
• 155 |
]
n
\
xviii CONTENTS.
ACT III.
The Helena 164
ACT IV.
I. High Mountains 228
II. On the Headland {The Battle) . . . 241
III. The Rival Emperor's Tent . . . 259
act v.
I. Open Country 271
II. In the Little Garden .... 274
III. Palace 276
IV. Dead of Night 282
Y. Midnight {Faust's Blindness) .... 286
VI. Great Outer Court of the Palace {Faust's
Death) 292
VII. Mountain -Gorges, Forest, Rock, Desert 305
NOTES 315
SECOND PART OF THE TRAGEDY.
IN FIVE ACTS.
VOL. II. I
4 FA UST.
And cleanse his being from the suffered woes ! i^our pauses makes the Night upon her courses,' And now, delay not, let them kindly close ! First on the coolest pillow let him slumber, K Then sprinkle him with Lethe's drowsy spray !
/His limbs no more shall cramps and chills encumber, When sleep has made him strong to meet the day. ;s/ Perform, ye Elves, your fairest rite :
Restore him to the holy Light !
v/*^
CHORUS 3
(singly, by two or more, alternately and collectively).
When around the green-girt meadow Balm the tepid winds exhale. Then in fragrance and in shadow Twilight spreads her misty veil : Whispers peace in accents cheery, Rocks the heart in childhood's play, And upon these eyehds weary Shuts the golden gates of Day.
Now the Night already darkles. Holy star succeeds to star ; Dazzling lights and fainter sparkles Glimmer near and gleam afar : Glimmer here, the lake reflecting, Gleam in cloudless dark aboon ; While, the bliss of rest protecting. Reigns in pomp the perfect moon.
Now the Hours are cancelled for thee, Pain and bliss have fled away : Thou art whole : let faith restore thee ! Trust the new, the rising Day !
J
ACT T. 5
Vales grow green, and hills are lifting Through the shadow-rest of morn ; And in waves of silver, drifting On to harvest, rolls the corn.
Wouldst thou win desires unbounded, Yonder see the glory burn ! Lightly is thy life surrounded — Sleep 's a shell, to break and spurn ! When the crowd sways, unbelieving. Show the daring will that warms ! He is crowned with all achieving, Who perceives and then performs. {A tremendous tumult announces the approach of the Sun.)
ARIEL.
Hearken ! Hark ! — the Hours careering !
Sounding loud to spirit-hearing,
See the new-born Day appearing !
Rocky portals jarring shatter,
Phoebus' wheels in rolling clatter, .^
With a crash the Light draws near ! * ^'^''^^"H^ -""^^-ro^
Pealing rays and trumpet-blazes, —
Eye is blinded, ear amazes :
The Unheard can no one hear !
Slip within each blossom-bell.
Deeper, deeper, there to dwell, —
In the rocks, beneath the leaf !
If it strikes you, you are deaf.
FAUST.
Life's pulses now with fresher force awaken To greet the mild ethereal twilight o'er me ; This night, thou, Earth ! hast also stood unshaken, And now thou breathest new-refreshed before me,
U
I
FA UST.
And now beginnest, all thy gladness granting,
A vigorous resolution to restore me,
To seek that highest life for which I 'm panting. —
The world unfolded lies in twilight glimmer,
A thousand voices in the grove are chanting ;
Vale in, vale out, the misty streaks grow dimmer ;
The deeps with heavenly light are penetrated ;
The boughs, refreshed, lift up their leafy shimmer
From gulfs of air where sleepily they waited ;
Color on color from the background cleareth,
Where flower and leaf with trembling pearls are freighted:
And all around a Paradise appeareth.
Look up ! — The mountain summits, grand, supernal,s Herald, e'en now, the solemn hour that neareth ; They earliest enjoy the light eternal That later sinks, till here below we find it. Now to the Alpine meadows, sloping vernal, A newer beam descends ere we divined it, And step by step unto the base hath bounded : The sun comes forth ! Alas, already bHnded, I turn away, with eyesight pierced and wounded !
'T is thus, when, unto yearning hope's endeavor,
Its highest wish on sweet attainment grounded,
The portals of fulfilment widely sever :
But if there burst from those eternal spaces
A flood of flame, we stand confounded ever ;
For Life's pure torch we sought the shining traces,
And seas of fire — and what a fire ! — surprise us.
Is 't Love ? Is 't Hate ? that burningly embraces.
And that with pain and joy alternate tries us ?
So that, our glances once more earthward throwing,
We seek in youthful drapery to disguise us.
A
ACT I.
Behind me, therefore, let the sun be glowing ! The cataract, between the crags dee^iven, I thuFbehold mthjrapture ever-^rowin^. From plunge to plunge m thousand streams 't is given, And yet a thousand, to the valleys sha(Jed, While foam and spray in air are whirled and driven. Yet how superb, across the tumult braided, ' '\
The painted rainbow's changeful life is bending, Now clearly drawn, dissolving now and faded, And evermore the showers of dew descending ! /il Of human striving there 's no symbol fuller : Consider, and 't is easy comprehending — ^
ViCon [JLLEe
is not light, but the refracted color.^ ,^y )
^
FAUST.
11.
THE EMPEROR'S CASTLE.
HALL OF THE THRONE.
Council of State awaiting the Emperor.
Trumpets.
Enter Court Retainers of all kinds, splendidly dressed. The Emperor advances to the throne : the Astrologer on his right hand.
EMPEROR.7
I GREET you, Well-beloved and Trusty, Assembled here from far and wide ! I see the Wise Man at my side ; But where 's the Fool, his rival lusty?
SQUIRE.
Behind thy mantle's flowing swell Suddenly on the stairs he fell : They bore away the weight of fat ; H dead, or drunk ? none knoweth that.
SECOND SQUIRE.
As quick as thought, through all the pother Him to replace there came another. Adorned and prinked with wondrous art. Yet so grotesque that all men start.
ACT I. 9
The guards their halberds cross-wise hold To bar him — them he thrusts apart : Lo ! here he comes, the Fool so bold !
MEPHISTOPHELES [kneeling before the throne). What 's cursed and welcomely expected ?^ What is desired, yet always chased ? What evermore with care protected ? What is accused, condemned, disgraced ? To whom dar'st thou not give a hearing ? Whose name hears each man willingly ? What is 't, before thy throne appearing ? What keeps itself away from thee ?
EMPEROR.
Spare us thy words ! the time is pressing ;
This is no place for riddle-guessing :
These gentlemen such things explain.
Solve it thyself ! — to hear I 'm fain.
My old Fool went, I fear, an endless distance ;
Take thou his place, come here and lend assistance !
)Mephistopheles ^^^j up and stations himself on the Em* PEROR's left hand.)
MURMURS OF THE CR0WD.9
Another fool — for worries new ! — Whence came he ? — how did he get through ? The old one fell — he 's walked his path. — He was a barrel — this, a lath !
EMPEROR.
So now, my Well-beloved and Loyal, Be welcome all, from near and far ! You meet beneath a fortunate star ; Welfare and luck are now the aspects royal. I*
10 FAUST.
But tell me why, in days so fair,^°
When we 've withdrawn ourselves from care,
And beards of beauty masquerading wear, —
When gay delights for us are waiting,
Why should we plague ourselves, deliberating ?
Yet, since the task you think we cannot shun,
'T is settled then, so be it done !
CHANCELLOR.
The highest virtue, like a halo-zone Circles the Emperor's head ; and he alone Is worthy validly to exercise it. 'T is Justice ! — all men love and prize it, None can forego, but all require and want it : The people look to him, that he should grant it. But, ah ! what help can human wit impart. Or readiness of hand, or kindly heart. When lies the State, as if in fever fretting. And brooded Evil evil is begetting ? Who looks abroad from off this height supreme Throughout the realm, 't is like a weary dream, Where one deformity another mouldeth. Where lawlessness itself by law upholdeth. And 't is an age of Error that unfoldeth !
One plunders flocks, a woman one, Cup, cross, and candlestick from altar, And then to boast it does not palter, Of limb or life nowise undone. To Court behold the plaintiffs urging. Where puffs the judge on cushions warm, And swells, meanwhile, with fury surging, Rebellion's fast-increasing storm ! His easy way through crime is broken, Who his accomplices selects ;
ACT I. II
And " Guilty ! " hears one only spoken
Where Innocence itself protects.
They all pull down what they should care for, —
Destroy their weal, in self-despite :
How can the sense develop, therefore,
Which, only, leads us to the Right ?
At last, the man of good intent
To flatterer and briber bendeth ;
The judge, debarred from punishment,
Mates with the felon, ere he endeth.
I 've painted black, but denser screen
I 'd rather draw before the scene.
(Pause.)
Here measures cannot be evaded ; When all offend, and none are aided. His Majesty a victim stands.
GENERAL-IN-CHIEF.
In these wild days, how discords thicken !
Each strikes and in return is stricken.
And they are deaf to all commands.
The burgher in his fortifications,
The knight upon his rocky nest, .
Have sworn to worry out our patience
And keep their strength with stubborn crest.
The mercenaries, no whit better.
Impatiently demand their pay.
And, if we were not still their debtor.
They 'd start forthwith and march away.
Let one forbid what all would practise
And in a hornet's nest he stands :
The realm which they should guard, the fact is,
'T is devastated by their hands.
They give the rein to wild disorder,
I
12 FAUST.
And half the world is wasted now ; There still are kings beyond our border, But none thinks it concerns him anyhow.
TREASURER.
Trust aUies, and we soon shall rue us !
The subsidies they promised to us —
Like water in leaky pipes — don't come.
Then, Sire, in all thy states extended
To whom hath now the rule descended ?
Where'er one goes, a new lord is at home,
And hopes to live in independence ;
He takes his course and we look on :
Such rights we 've given to our attendants
That all our right to anything is gone.
On parties, too, whate'er the name be,
Our trust, to-day, is far from great ;
Though loud their praise or fierce their blame be,
Indifferent is their love and hate.
The Ghibellines and Guelfs from labor
Are resting — both laid on the shelf.
Who, therefore, now will help his neighbor ?
Each has enough, to help himself.
The gate of gold no more unlatches.
And each one gathers, digs, and scratches.
While our strong-box is void indeed.
LORD HIGH STEWARD.
What evil I, as well, am having !
We 're always trying to be saving,
And ever greater is our need :
Thus daily grows this task of mine.
The cooks have all they want at present, —
Wild-boar and deer, and hare and pheasant.
Duck, peacock, turkey, goose, and chicken :
ACT I.
13
.(^
These, paid in kind, are certain picking,
And do not seriously decline ;
Yet, after all, we 're short of wine.
Where casks on casks were once our cellars filling,
Rare vintages of flavors finely thrilling, ' — '
The noble lords' eternal swilling
Has drained them off, till not a drop appears.
The City Council, too, must tap their liquor ;
They drink from mug, and jug, and beaker,
Till no one longer sees or hears.
'T is I must pay for all the dances ;
The Jew will have me, past all chances ;
His notes of hand and his advances
Will soon eat up the coming years.
Before they 're fat the swine are taken ;
Pawned is the pillow, ere one waken.
The bread is eaten ere the board it sees.
THE EMPEROR
{after some reflection, to Mephistopheles). Say, Fool, canst thou not add a want to these ?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
I ? Not at all ! I see the circling splendor — Thyself, and thine ! Should one his trust surrender, Where Majesty thus unopposed commands. Where ready power the hostile force disbands, Where loyal wills, through understanding strong. And mixed activities, around thee throng .? What powers for evil could one see combining, — For darkness, where such brilliant stars are shining ?
MURMURS.
He is a scamp — who comprehends. — He lies his way — until it ends. —
14 FAUST.
I know it now — what 's in his mind. — What then ? — A project lurks behind !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
I Where, in this world, doth not some lack appear?
/ Here this, there that, — but money 's lacking h6re.
1^ True, from the floor you can't at once collect it, But, deepliest hidden, wisdom may detect it. In veins of mountains, under building-bases. Coined and uncoined, there 's gold in many places : And ask you who shall bring it to the light ? A man endowed with Mind's and Nature's might.
CHANCELLOR.
XNature and Mind — to Christians we don't speak sa \ Thence to burn Atheists we seek so, J For such discourses very dangerous be. (^Nature is Sin, and Mind is Devil :
Doubt they beget in shameless revel,
Their hybrid in deformity.
Not so with us ! — Two only races
Have in the Empire kept their places.
And prop the throne with worthy weight.
The Saints and Knights are they : " together
They breast each spell of thunder- weather,
And take for pay the Church and State.
The vulgar minds that breed confusion
Are met with an opposing hand :
They 're wizards ! — heretics ! Delusion
Through them will ruin town and land.
And these will you, with brazen juggle.
Within this high assembly smuggle ?
For hearts corrupt you scheme and struggle ;
The Fool's near kin are all the band.
ACT I. 15
MEPHISTOPHELES.
By that, I know the learned lord you are ! What you don't touch, is lying leagues afar ; What you don't grasp, is wholly lost to you ; What you don't reckon, think you, can't be true ; What you don't weigh, it has no weight, alas ! What you don't coin, you 're sure it will not pass.
EMPEROR.
Therewith to help our needs you naught determine. What wilt thou, here, with such a Lenten sermon ? I 'm tired of the eternal If and How : Money we want : good, then, procure it now !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
I '11 furnish what you wish, and more : 't is, true,
A light task, but light things are hard to do.
The gold 's on hand, — yet, skilfully to win it.
That is the art : who knows how to begin it ?
Consider only, in those days of blood
When o'er the Empire poured a human flood.
How many men, such deadly terror steeled them.
Took their best goods, and here and there concealed
them ! 'T was so beneath the mighty Roman sway, And ever so repeated, till our day. All that was buried in the earth, to save it : The Emperor owns the earth, and he should have it
TREASURER.
Now, for a Fool, his words are rather bright : That is indeed the old Imperial right.
CHANCELLOR.
Satan has laid his golden snares, to try us ; Such things as these are neither right nor pious-
I
1 6 FAUST.
LORD HIGH STEWARD.
Let him but bring his gifts to Court, and share them, And if things were a little wrong, I 'd bear them !
GENERAL-IN-CHIEF.
The Fool is shrewd, to promise each his needs ; Whence it may come the soldier never heeds.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
And should you think, perchance, I overreach you, Here 's the Astrologer — ask him to teach you ! The spheres of Hour and House are in his ken : '^^ What are the heavenly aspects ? — tell us, then !
MURMURS.
Two rogues are they, — in league they 've grown,
Dreamer and Fool — so near the throne !
The song is old — and flatly sung. —
The Fool he prompts — the Wise Man's tongue !
ASTROLOGER
{speaks : MEPHiSTOPHELES/r^w/^j). The Sun himself is gold of purest ray ; The herald. Mercury, serves for love and pay ; Dame Venus has bewitched you all, for she, Early and late, looks on you lovingly ; Chaste Luna has her whims, no two alike ; Mars threatens you, although he may not strike, And Jupiter is still the splendid star. Saturn is great, though seeming small and far : As metal, him we don't much venerate, Of value slight, though heavy in his weight. Now, when of Sol and Luna union 's had, — Silver with gold, — then is the world made glad : All else, with them, is easy to attain, — Palaces, gardens, cheeks of rosy stain ;
I.
ACT /. . . 17
And these procures this highly learned man, Who that can do which none of us e'er can.
EMPEROR.
Two meanings in his words I find, And yet they don't convince my mind.
MURMURS.
Why tell us that ? — stuff stale and flat ! 'T is quackery ! — 't is chemistry ! I 've heard the strain — and hoped in vain, -^ And though it come — 't is all a hum,
MEPHISTOPHELES.
They stand around, amazed, unknowing ;
They do not trust the treasure-spell ;
One dreams of mandrake, nightly growing,
The other of the dog of Hell.
Why, then, should one suspect bewitching.
And why the other jest and prate,
When in their feet, they, too, shall feel the itching;
When they shall walk with tottering gait .**
All feel the secret operation Of Nature's ever-ruling might, And from the bases of Creation . A living track winds up to light. In every limb when something twitches In any place uncanny, old, — Decide at once, and dig for riches ! There lies the fiddler, there the gold ! '3
MURMURS.
It hangs like lead my feet about. —
I 've cramp i' the arm — but that is gout. —
B
1 8 • . FAUST.
I Ve tickling in the greater toe. — Down all my back it pains me so. — From signs like these 't is very clear The richest treasure-ground is here.
EMPEROR.
Haste, then ! Thou 'It not again make off ! Test now thy frothy, lying graces, And show at once the golden places ! My sword and sceptre I will doff, Mine own imperial hands I '11 lend thee, If thou liest not, therein befriend thee. But, if thou Rest, to Hell will send thee !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
I 'd find, in any case, the pathway there ! —
Yet I cannot enough declare
What, ownerless, waits everywhere.
The farmer, following his share.
Turns out a gold-crock with the mould :
He seeks saltpetre where the clay-walls stand,'-*
And findeth rolls of goldenest gold.
With joyful fright, in his impoverished hand.
What vaults there are to be exploded.
Along what shafts and mines corroded,
The gold-diviner's steps are goaded.
Until the Under-world is nigh !
In cellars vast he sees the precious
Cups, beakers, vases, plates, and dishes,
Row after row, resplendent lie :
Rich goblets, cut from rubies, stand there,
And, would he use them, lo ! at hand there
Is ancient juice of strength divine.
Yet, trust to him who 's knowledge gotten.
The wood o' the staves has long been rotten.
ACT I. 19
A cask of tartar holds the wine.'s
Not only gold and gems are hiding,
But of proud wines the heart abiding,
In terror and in night profound:
Herein assiduously explore the wise ;
It is a farce, by day to recognize.
But mysteries are with darkness circled round.
EMPEROR.
See thou to them ! What profits the Obscure ?
Whate'er has value comes to daylight, sure.
At dead of night who can the rogue betray ?
Then all the cows are black, the cats are gray.
If pots are down there, full of heavy gold,
Drive on thy plough and turn them from the mould !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
/ Take hoe and spade thyself, I pray thee, — ><^^^«-z-^ T
( Ttrmwhnll- hn frront thrnn(T|i peasant-toil ! ^l<;i^^< -^ \ A herd of golden calves, to pay thee, ^'t^c::^^^^'^^^-^
) Will loose their bodies from the soil. ^'^-<<_,,.,^^
And then at once canst thou, with rapture,
Gems for thyself and for thy mistress capture : Their tints and sparkles heighten the degree Of Beauty as of Majesty.
EMPEROR.
Then quick ! at once ! how long will it require ?
ASTROLOGER {prompted by Mephistopheles).
Sire, moderate such urgence of desire ! Let first the gay, the motley pastime end ! Not to the goal doth such distraction tend.
20 FAUST.
First self-command must quiet and assure us ; The upper things the lower will procure us. Who seeks for Good, must first be good ; Who seeks for joy, must moderate his blood ; Who wine desires, let him the ripe grapes tread ; Who miracles, by stronger faith be led !
EMPEROR.
Let us the time in merriment efface ! And, to our wish, Ash- Wednesday comes apace. Meanwhile, we '11 surely celebrate withal More jovially the maddening Carnival.
[ Trumpets. Exeunt.
/ H
MEPHISTOPHELES.
How closely linked are Luck and Merit, Vw Doth never to these fools occur : J Had they the Philosopher's Stone, I swear it, \| The Stone would lack the Philosopher !
ACT I. 21
III.
SPACIOUS HALL.
WITH ADJOINING APARTMENTS Arranged and Decorated for the Carnival Masquerade
•X
HERALD.
THINK not, as in our German bounds, your chance is Of Death's or Fools' or Devils' dances : Here cheerful revels you await. Our Ruler, on his Roman expedition, Hath for his profit, your fruition. Crossed o'er the Alpine high partition. And won himself a gayer State. He to the holy slipper bowed him And first the right of power besought ; Then, as he went to get the Crown allowed him, For us the Fool's-cap he has also brought. Now are we all new-born, to wear it : Each tactful and experienced man. Drawn cosily o'er head and ears, doth bear it ; IK fool he seems, yet he must share it. And be, thereby, as sober as he can. They crowding come, I see already, Close coupling, or withdrawn unsteady, — The choruses, hke youth from school. Come in or out, bring on your ranks ! Before or after — 't is the rule — With all its hundred thousand pranks, The World is one enormous Fool !
22 FAUST.
GARD£N-GIRLS.'7 {Song, accompanied with mandolines.)
That we win your praises tender We are decked in festal gear ; At the German Court of splendor, Girls of Florence, we appear.
On our locks of chestnut glosses Wear we many a flowery bell ; Silken threads and silken flosses Here must play their parts, as well.
Our desert, not over-rated, Seems to us assured and clear, For by art we 've fabricated Flowers that blossom all the year.
Every sort of colored snipping Won its own symmetric right : Though your wit on each be tripping, In the whole you take dehght.
We are fair to see and blooming, Garden-girls, and gay of heart ; For the natural way of woman Is so near akin to art.
HERALD.
Let us see the wealth of blossoms , Basket-crowning heads that bear them,
Garlanding your arms and bosoms ! Each select, ahd lightly wear them. Haste ! and bosky arbors dressing, Let a garden here enring us ! Worthy they of closer pressing, Hucksters and the wares they bring us.
ACT I. GARDEN-GIRLS.
Now in cheerful places chaffer, But no marketing be ours ! Briefly, clearly, let each laugher Know the meaning of his flowers.
OLIVE BRANCH, WITH FRUIT/'^
Flowery sprays I do not covet ; Strife I shun, or branch above it, Foe of conflict I remain. Yet am I the marrow of nations. Pledge of happy consummations, Sign of peace on every plain. Be, to-day, my lucky fate Worthy head to decorate !
WREATH OF EARS (golden).
You to crown, the gifts of Ceres Here their kindly grace have sent ; Unto Use what chiefly dear is Be your fairest ornament !
FANCY WREATH.
Gayest blossoms, like to mallows, — From the moss a marvel grew ! Fashion calls to light, and hallows, That which Nature never knew.
FANCY NOSEGAY.
What our name is, Theophrastus 19 Would not dare to say : contrast us ! Yet we hope to please you purely. If not all, yet many, surely, — Such as fain we 'd have possess us. Braiding us in shining tresses,
33
94
FAUST.
Or, a fairer fate deciding, On the heart find rest abiding.
CHALLENGE.
Motley fancies blossom may For the fashion of the day, Whimsical and strangely moulded, Such as Nature ne'er unfolded : Bells of gold and stems of green In the plenteous locks be seen ! — Yet we
ROSEBUDS
lie concealed behind ; Lucky, who shall freshly find ! When the summer-time returneth, And the rosebud, bursting, burneth, Who such bhsses would surrender ? Promise sweet, and yielding tender. They, in Flora's realm, control Swiftly eyes and sense and soul.
Under green, leafy arcades, the Garden-girls adorn and gracefully exhibit their wares)
GARDENERS.^" {Song, accompanied with theorbos.) Blossoms there, that sprout in quiet. Round your heads their charms are weaving ; But the fruits are not deceiving, One may try the mellow diet
Sunburnt faces tempt with glowing Cherries, peaches, plums, your vision : Buy ! for vain the eye's decision To the tongue's and palate's showing.
ACT L 25
Ripest fruit from sunniest closes Eat, with taste and pleasure smitten ! Poems one may write on roses, But the apple must be bitten.
Then permit that we be mated With your youth, so flowery-fair : Thus is also decorated, Neighbor-like, our riper ware.
Under wreaths of flowery tether, As the leafy arbors suit, All may then be found together, Buds and leaves, and flower and fruit !
\iVith alternating songs, accompanied with mandolines and theorbos, both Choruses continue to set forth their wares upon steps rising aloft, and to offer them to the spectators. )
Mother and Daughter."
MOTHER.
Maiden, when thou cam'st to light. Tiny caps I wrought thee ; Body tender, soft, and white, Lovely face I brought thee. As a bride I thought thee, led To the richest, wooed and wed, As a wife I thought thee.
Ah ! already many a year, Profitless, is over : None of all the wooers here Now around thee hover; Though with one wast wont to dance, VOL. II. 2
26 FAUST.
Gav'st another nudge and glance, — Hast not found thy lover !
I to feast and revel thee Vainly took, to match one : Pawns, and hindmost man of three, Would not help thee snatch one. Every fool now wears his cap : Sweetheart, open thou thy lap ! Still, perchance, mayst catch one !
[Other maiden-playmates, young and beautiful, jointhe garden- girls : the sound of familiar gossip is heard. Fishers and bird-catchers, with nests, fshing-rods, limed twigs, and other itnplements, appear, and disperse themselves among the maidens. Reciprocal attempts to win, to catch, to escape, and to hold fast, give opportunity for the most agreeable dialogues^
WOOD-CUTTERS." {Enter, boisterously and boorishly.) Room ! make a clearing ! Room in your revel ! The trees we level That tumble cracking : Where we 're appearing Look out for whacking. Our praise adjudging, Make clear this fable ! Save Coarse were drudging Within your borders, Would Fine be able To build their orders, Howe'er they fretted "i Be taught in season. For you 'd be freezing Had we not sweated !
I
ACT I.
PULCINELLI
{uncouth, almost idiotic).
You, Fools, are trooping, Since birth so stooping ; The wise ones we are. From burdens freer. Our caps, though sleazy. And jackets breezy To wear are easy : It gives us pleasure To go with leisure, With slippered shuffles Through market-scuffles, To gape at the pother. Croak at each other ! Through crowded places You always trace us, Eel-like gliding, Skipping and hiding. Storming together : Moreover, whether You praise — reprove us, it does n't move us.
PARASITES {fawningly-lustful). Ye woodland bandsmen, And they, your clansmen. The charcoal-burners. To you we turn us : For all such plodding, Affirmative nodding. Tortuous phrases. Blowing both ways — is Warming or chilling.
27
28 FA UST.
Just as you 're feeling : What profit from it ? There might fall fire, Enormous, dire, From heaven's summit, Were there not billets And coal in wagons, To boil your skillets And warm your flagons. It roasts and frizzles ; It boils and sizzles ! The taster and picker, The platter-licker. He sniffs the roasting. Suspects the fishes, And clears, with boasting. His patron's dishes.
DRUNKEN MAN 23 {^unconsciously).
Naught, to-day, bring melancholy ! Since I feel so frank and free : Fresh delight and songs so jolly, And I brought them both with me ! Thus I 'm drinking, drinking, drinking! Clink your glasses, clinking, clinking ! You behind there, join the rout ! Clink them stout, and then it 's out !
Though my wife assailed me loudly, Rumpled me through thin and thick ; And, howe'er I swaggered proudly, Called me " masquerading stick " : Yet I 'm drinking, drinking, drinking ! Clink your glasses ! clinking, clinking !
ACT I. 29
Masking sticks, another bout !
When you 've clinked them, drink them out !
Say not mine a silly boast is !
I am here in clover laid :
Trusts the host not, trusts the hostess, —
She refusing, trusts the maid.
Still I 'm drinking, drinking, drinking!
Come, ye others, cHnking, clinking!
Each to each ! keep up the rout !
We, I 'm thinking, drink them out.
How and where my fun I 'm sppng, Let me have it as I planned ! Let me lie where I am lying, For I cannot longer stand.
CHORUS.
Every chum be drinking, drinking ! Toast afresh, with clinking, clinking! Bravely keep your seats, and shout ! Under the table he 's drunk out.
\The Herald announces various Poets ^^ — Poets of Nature, Courtly and Knightly Minstrels, Sentimentalists as well as Enthusiasts. In the crowd of competitors of all kinds, no one allows another to commence his declamation. One slips past with a few words .]
SATIRIST.
Know ye what myself, the Poet, Would the most rejoice and cheer 1 If I dared to sing, and utter. That which no one wants to hear.
30
FAUST.
\The Night and Churchyard Poets excuse themselves, because they have just becojue engaged in a most interesting conversa- tion with a newly-arisen vampire, and therefrom a new school of poetry may possibly be developed. The HERALD is obliged to accept their excuses, and meanwhile calls forth the Grecian Mythology, which, even in m^odern masks, loses neither its character nor its power to charm.l
<^X^
The Graces.^5
%, A^ AGLAIA.
Life we bless with graces living ; So be graceful in your giving !
HEGEMONE.
Graceful be in your receival ; Wish attained is sweet retrieval.
EUPHROSYNE.
LjJ/^ And in days serene and spacious, ytLH/''^^^ ^^ y^^^ thanks be chiefly gracious!
^ The Parc^.^
i^
^
ATROPOS.
I, the eldest, to the spinning Have received the invitation ; When the thread of Life 's beginning There is need of meditation.
Finest flax I winnow featly That your thread be softly given ; Draw it through my fingers nearly, Make it thin, and smooth, andeven.
If too wanton your endeavor. Grasping here of joy each token,
ACT I.
Think, the thread won't stretch forever ! Have a care ! it might be broken.
CLOTHO. .y
Know that, given to me for wearing,^ Lately were the shears supplied ; Since men were not by the bearing Of our eldest edified.
Useless webs she long untangled, Dragging them to air and light ; Dreams of fortune, hope-bespangled, Clipped and buried out of sight.
Also I, in ignorance idle,
Made mistakes in younger years.
But to-day, myself to bridle.
In their sheath I stick the shears.
Thus restrained in proper measure, Favor I this cheerful place : You these hours of liberal pleasure Use at will, and run your race !
LACHESIS.
In my hands, the only skilful. Was the ordered twisting placed ; Active are my ways, not wilful. Erring not through over-haste.
Threads are coming, threads are reeling ; In its course I each restrain : None, from off the circle wheeling, Fails to fit within the skein.
31
32 FAUST.
If I once regardless gadded, For the world my hopes were vain : Hours are counted, years are added, And the weaver takes the chain.
HERALD.
You would not recognize who now appear,
Though ne'er so learned you were in ancient writing ;
To look at them, in evil so delighting.
You 'd call them worthy guests, and welcome here.
They are The Furies,^^ no one will believe us, — Fair, well-proportioned, friendly, young in years : But make acquaintance, and straightway appears How snake-like are such doves to wound, deceive us.
Though they are spiteful, yet on this occasion, When every fool exults in all his blame, They also do not crave angelic fame, But own themselves the torments of the nation.
/V^^/^^^^J^^ -^ ALECTO.
What good of that,_forjyou will trust us still ! — Each of us young and f air, awheedling kitten. Hath one of you a girl with whom he 's smitten, We '11 rub and softly stroke his ears, until
'T is safe to tell him, spite of all his loathing, That she has also this and the other flame, — A blockhead he, or humpbacked, squint and lame, And if betrothed to him, she 's good-for-nothing !
We 're skilled, as well, the bride to vex and sever : Why scarce a week ago, her very lover
ii
ACT L 33
Contemptuous things to her was saying of her ! Though they make up, there 's something rankles ever.
MEG.ERA. ^^ f^ Sl/4^^''^
That 's a mere jest ! For, let them once be married, /x^-^/UtA^
I go to work, and can, in every case,
The fairest bliss by wilful whims displace.
Man has his various moods, the hours are varied.
And, holding the Desired that once did charm him, Each for the More-desired, a yearning fool, Leaves the best fortune, use has rendered cool : He flies the sun, and seeks the frost to warm him.
Of ills for all I understand the brewing. And here Asmodi as my follower lead,^'^ To scatter mischief at the proper need. And send the human race, in pairs, to ruin.
TISIPHONE. (hi^^'X^ Steel and poison I, not malice. Mix and sharpen for the traitor : Lov'st thou others, soon or later, Ruin pours for thee the chalice.
Through the moment's sweet libation See the gall and wormwood stealing ! Here no bargaining, no dealing ! Like the act and retaliation.
No one babble of forgiving ! To the rocks I cry : Revenge / is Echo's answer : he who changes Shall be missed among the living.
•^lA.^^'^^f^
./
/
34 FAUST.
HERALD.
V Do me the favor, now, to stand aside,
For that which comes is not to you alUed. J^
You see a mountain pressing through the throng,^^
: The flanks with brilliant housings grandly hung,
'' A head with tusks, a snaky trunk below, —
1 A mystery, yet I the key will show. A delicate woman sits upon his neck. And with a v/and persuades him to her beck ; The other, throned aloft, superb to see, Stands in a glory, dazzling, blinding me. Beside him walk two dames in chains ; one fearful And sore depressed, the other glad and cheerful. One longs for freedom and one feels she 's free : Let each declare us who she be !
-^ ^ FEAR.
Smoky torches, lamps are gleaming Through the festal's wildering train ; Ah ! amid these faces scheming I am fastened by my chain.
Off, ridiculously merry ! I mistrust your grinning spite : Each relentless adversary Presses nearer in the night.
Friend would here as foe waylay me, But I know the masking shapes ; Yonder 's one that wished to slay me, — Now, discovered, he escapes.
From the world I fain would wander Through whatever gate I find ; But perdition threatens yonder. And the horror holds my mind.
ACT I. ^ HOPE.
Good my sisters, I salute you ! Though to-day already suit you, Masquerading thus demurely. Yet I know your purpose surely To reveal yourselves to-morrow. And if we, by torches lighted, Fail to feel a special pleasure, Yet in days of cheerful leisure. At our will, delight we '11 borrow. Or alone or disunited Free through fairest pastures ranging, Rest and action interchanging. And in life no cares that fetter Naught forego, but strive for better. Welcome guests are all around us. Let us mingle with the rest ! Surely, what is best hath found us. Or we '11 somewTiere find the best.
PRUDENCE.
Two of human foes, the greate Fear and Hope, I bind the faster. Thus to save you at the latest : Clear the way for me, their master.
I conduct the live colossus, Turret-crowned with weighty masses ; And unweariedly he crosses. Step by step, the steepest passes.
But aloft the goddess planted. With her broad and ready pinions, Turns to spy where gain is granted Everywhere in Man's dominions.
36
!^^^-J^
>'
FAUST.
Round her all is bright and glorious ; Splendor streams on all her courses : Victory is she — the victorious Goddess of all active forces.
ZOiLO-THERSITES.3°
Ho ! ho ! I 've hit the time of day.
You 're all together bad, I say !
But what appeared my goal to me
Is she up there, Dame Victory.
She, with her snowy wings spread out,
Thinks she 's an eagle, past a doubt ;
And, wheresoever she may stir.
That land and folk belong to her ;
But when a famous thing is done
I straightway put my harness on,
To lift the low, the high upset,
The bent to straighten, bend the straight,
That, only, gives my heart a glow.
And on this earth I '11 have it so.
HERALD.
Then take, thou beggar-cur, the blow. This magic baton's stroke of skill ! — So, twist and wriggle at thy will ! See how the double dwarfish ape Rolls to a hideous ball in shape ! — A marvel ! 'T is an ^gg we view ; It pufEs itself and cracks in two : A pair of twins come forth to-day, The Adder and the Bat are they. Forth in the dust one winds and creeps ; One darkly round the ceiling sweeps. They haste to join in company : The third therein I would not be !
ACT I. MURMURS.
Come ! the dance is yonder gay. — No ! I would I were away. — Feel'st thou how the phantom race Flits about us in this place ? — Something whizzes past my hair. — Round my feet I saw it fare. — None of us are injured, though. — But we all are frightened so. — Wholly spoiled is now the fun. — Which the vermin wanted done.
HERALD.
Since, as Herald, I am aiding
At your merry masquerading,
At the gate I 'm watching, fearful
Lest within your revels cheerful
Something shps of evil savor ;
And I neither shrink nor waver.
Yet, I fear, the airy spectres
Enter, baffling all detectors.
And from gobUns that deceive you
I 'm unable to relieve you.
First, the dwarf became suspicious ;
Now a mightier pageant issues
Yonder, and it is my duty
To explain those forms of beauty :
But the thing I comprehend not,
How can I its meaning mention ?
Help me to its comprehension !
Through the crowd you see it wend not ?
Lo ! a four-horse chariot wondrous,
Hither drawn, the tumult sunders ;
Vet the crowd seems not to share in 't —
Nowhere is a crush apparent.
37
38 FAUST.
Colored lights, in distance dimmer^ Motley stars around it shimmer ; Magic lantern-like they glimmer. On it storms, as to assault. Clear the way ! I shudder !
BOY CHARIOTEER.
Halt! Steeds, restrain the eager pinion, Own the' bridle's old dominion. Check yourselves, as I desire you. Sweep away, when I inspire you ! — Honor we these festal spaces ! See, the fast increasing faces, Circles, full of admiration ! Herald, come ! and in thy fashion.
n
Ere we take from here our glories. Name us, and describe and show us! For we 're naught but allegories. Therefore 't is thy place to know us.
HERALD.
No, thy name from me is hidden, — Could describe thee, were I bidden.
BOY CHARIOTEER.
Try it!
HERALD.
Granted, at the start, Young and beautiful thou art, — A half-grown boy ; and yet the woman-nature Would rather see thee in completed stature. To me thou seem'st a future fickle wooer. Changing the old betrayed love for a newer.
ACT I. 39
BOY CHARIOTEER.
Go on ! So far, 't is very fine :
Make the enigma's gay solution thine !
HERALD.
Black lightning of the eyes, the dark locks glowing,3»
Yet bright with jewelled anadem.
And light thy robe as flower on stem,
From shoulder unto buskin flowing
With tinsel-braid and purple hem !
One for a maiden might surmise thee,
Yet, good or ill, as it might be,
The maids, e'en now, would take and prize thee :
rhey 'd teach thee soon thy ABC.
BOY CHARIOTEER.
And he, who like a splendid vision, Sits proudly on the chariot's throne "i
HERALD.
He seems a king, of mien Elysian ; Blest those, who may his favor own ! No more has he to earn or capture ; His glance detects where aught 's amiss, And to bestow his perfect rapture Is more than ownership and bliss.
BOY CHARIOTEER.
Thou darest not at this point desist : Describe him fully, I insist !
HERALD.
But undescribed is Dignity.
The healthy, full-moon face I see,
The ample mouth, the cheeks that fresher
Shine out beneath his turban's pressure,
40
FAUST.
Rich comfort in the robe he 's wearing, What shall I say of such a bearing ? He seems, as ruler, known to me.
■p BOY CHARIOTEER.
Plutus^the God of Wealth, is he. He hither comes in proud attire ; Much doth the Emperor him desire.
Of thee the What and Hoiv declare to
:iare to me \
BOY CHARIOTEER
I am Profusion, I am Poesy.3^
The Poet I, whose perfect crown is' sent
When he his own best goods hath freely spent
Yet, rich in mine unmeasured pelf.
Like Plutus I esteem myself :
I prank and cheer his festal show
And whatsoe'er he lacks bestow.
HERALD.
Fresh charm to thee thy brag imparts, But let us now behold thine arts !
BOY CHARIOTEER.
Just see me fillip with my fingers ! What brilhance round the chariot lingers, And there a string of pearls appears !
[continuing to fillip and snap his fingers in all directions :)
Take golden spangles for neck and ears, Combs, and diadems free of flaw. And jewelled rings as ne'er ye saw ! I also scatter flamelets bright. Awaiting where they may ignite.
ACT /. HERALD.
How Strives the crowd with eager longing,
Almost upon the giver thronging !
As in a dream he snaps the toys ;
All catch and snatch with crush and noise.
But now new tricks have I detected :
What each has zealously collected
His trouble doth but poorly pay ;
The gifts take wings and fly away.
The pearls are loosened from their band
And beetles crawl within his hand ;
He shakes them off, and then instead,
Poor dolt, they hum around his head !
The others find their solid things
Are butterflies with gaudy wings.
How much the scamp to promise seems,
And only gives what golden gleams ! 33
41
f
BOY CHARIOTEER.
Masks to announce, I grant, thou 'rt worthy ;
But 'neath the shell of Being to bestir thee
Is not a herald's courtly task :
A sharper sight for that we ask.
Yet every quarrel I evade ;
To thee, my Chief, be speech and question made !
( Turning to Plutus.)
Didst thou not unto me confide The tempest of the steeds I guide ? Canst thou not on my guidance reckon ? Am I not there, where thou dost beckon ? And have I not, on pinions boldest. Conquered for thee the palm thou holdest ? When in thy battles I have aided, I ever have been fortunate ;
42
FA UST.
Thy brow when laurels decorate, V' ^
Have I not them with hand and fancy braided? 34
PLUTUS.
If there be need that I bear witness now,
I 'm glad to say : soul of my soul art thou ! ,
Thine acts are always to my mind,
And thou the richer art, I find.
Thy service to reward, I hold
The green bough higher than my crowns of gold.
To all a true word spoken be :
Dear Son, I much deHght in thee.
BOY CHARIOTEER {to the Crowd).
The greatest gifts my hand flings out, See ! I have scattered round about. On divers heads there glows the tongue Of flame which I upon them flung, — Leaps back and forth among the shapes, On this remains, from that escapes. But very seldom upward streams In transient flush of mellow beams ; And unto many, ere they mark. It is extinct and leaves them dark.
CHATTER OF WOMEN.
Upon the chariot that man
Is certainly a charlatan :
There, perched behind, the clown is seen,
From thirst and hunger grown so lean
As one ne'er saw him ; if you 'd pinch,
He has n't flesh to feel and flinch.
THE STARVELING.
Disgusting women, off ! I know That when I come, you 'd have me go.
ACT I.
When woman fed her own hearth-flame, Then Avaritia was my name ; 35 Then throve the household fresh and green, For naught went out and much came in. To chest and press I gave good heed, And that you 'd call a vice, indeed ! , But since in later years, the fact is, ( £^conomy the wife won't practise, I And, Hke the host of spendthrift scholars, \ Has more desires than she has dollars, I The husband much discomfort brooks, I For there are debts where'er he looks. I She spends what spoil she may recover Upon her body, or her lover ; In luxury eats, and to excess Drinks with the flirts that round her press ; For me that raises money's price : -Male IS my genderJvaricQ 1 -r*^
43
L/^
LEADER OF THE WOMEN.
With dragons, mean may be the dragonj^ It 's all, at best, but lying stuff ! He comes, the men to spur and egg on. And now they 're troublesome enough.
CROWD OF WOMEN.
The scarecrow ! Knock him from the wagon !
What means the fag, to threaten here ?
As if his ugly face we 'd fear !
Of wood and pasteboard is each dragon : ,
Come on — his words shall cost him dear !
HERALD.
Now, by my wand ! Be still — let none stir ! Yet for my help there 's scarcely need ;
A^
44
FA UST.
See how each grim and grisly monster, Clearing the space around with speed, Unfolds his fourfold wings of dread ! The dragons shake themselves in anger, With flaming throats, and scaly clangor ; The place is clear, the crowd has fled.
(Plutus descends from the chariot.) HERALD,
How kingly comes he from above I He beckons, and the dragons move ; Then from the chariot bring the chest With gold, and Avarice thereon. See, at his feet the load they rest ! A marvel 't is, how it was done.
PLUTUS (to the Charioteer). Now thou hast left the onerous burden here, Thou 'rt wholly free : away to thine own sphere ! Here it is not ! Confused and wild, to-day, Distorted pictures press around our way. Where clear thy gaze in sweet serenity. Owning thyself, confiding but in thee. Thither, where Good and Beauty are unfurled. To Solitude ! — and there create thy world !
BOY CHARIOTEER.
Thus, as an envoy, am I worthy of thee ; Thus, as my next of kindred, do I love thee. Where thou art, is abundance ; where I go Each sees a splendid profit round him grow. In inconsistent life each often wavers, Whether to seek from thee, or me, the favors. Thy followers may be indolent, 't is true ; Who follows me, has always work to do.
ACT 1.
45
My deeds are never secret and concealed ; I only breathe, and I 'm at once revealed. Farewell, then ! Thou the bliss hast granted me ; But whisper low, and I return to thee !
\Exity as he came.
PLUTUS. 'T is time, now, to unchain the precious metals ! The padlocks with the herald's wand I smite : The chest is opened : look ! from iron kettles It pours like golden blood before your sight. It boils, and threatens to devour, as fuel. Melting them, crown and ring and chain and jewel !
ALTERNATE CRIES OF THE CROWD.
See here, and there ! they boil and swim ; The chest is filling to the brim ! — Vessels of gold are burning there. And minted rolls are turning there. And ducats jingle as they jump ! — O, how my heart begins to thump ! — All my desire I see, and more. They 're rolling now along the floor. — 'T is offered you : don't be a dunce, Stoop only, and be rich at once ! — Then, quick as lightning we, the rest, Will take possession of the chest.
HERALD.
What ails ye, fools ? What mean ye all ? 'T is but a joke of Carnival. To-night be your desires controlled ; Think you we 'd give you goods and gold ? Why, in this game there come to view Too many counters even, for you.
X
46 FAUST.
A pleasant cheat, ye dolts ! forsooth You take at once for naked truth. What 's truth to you ? Illusion bare Surrounds and rules you everywhere. ^ Thou Plutus-mask, Chief unrevealed, (^ Drive thou this people from the field ! 3^
PLUTUS.
Thy wand thereto is fit and free ;
Lend it a little while to me !
I dip it in the fiery brew, —
Look out, ye maskers ! all of you.
It shines, and snaps, and sparkles throws ;
The burning wand already glows.
Who crowdeth on, too near to me,
Is burned and scorched relentlessly. —
And now my circuit I '11 commence.
CRIES AND CROWDING.
Woe 's me ! We 're lost — there 's no defence ! —
Let each one fly, if fly he can ! —
Back ! clear the way, you hindmost man ! —
It sparkles fiercely in mine eyes. —
The burning wand upon me lies. —
We all are lost, we all are lost ! —
Back, back ! ye maskers, jammed and tossed ! —
Back, senseless crowd, away from there ! —
O, had I wings, I 'd take the air.
PLUTUS.
Now is the circle crowded back.
And none, I think, scorched very black.
The throng retires.
Scared by the fires.
As guaranty for ordered law,
A rins: invisible I draw.
ACT L 47
HERALD.
A noble work is thine, to-night : I thank thy wisdom and thy might.
PLUTUS.
Preserve thy patience, noble friend, For many tumults yet impend.
• AVARICE.
Thus, if one pleases, pleasantly
May one survey this circle stately ;
For, ever foremost, crowd the women greatly.
If aught to stare at, or to taste, there be.
Not yet entirely rusty are my senses !
A woman fair is always fair to me :
And since, to-day, it makes me no expenses.
We '11 go a courting confidently. |
But in a place so populate
All words to every ear don't penetrate ;
So, wisely I attempt, and hope success.
Myself by pantomime distinctly to express.
Hand, foot, and gesture will not quite suffice.
So I employ a jocular device.
Like clay will I the gold manipulate ;
One may transform it into any state.
HERALD.
What will the lean fool do .-* 37 Has he, So dry a starveHng, humor 1 See, He kneads the gold as it were dough ! Beneath his hands 't is soft ; yet, though He roll and squeeze it, for his pains Disfigured still the stuff remains. He turns to the women there, and they All scream, and try to get away.
^8 FAUST.
With gestures of disgust and loathing:
The ready rascal stops at nothing.
I fear he takes delight to see
He has offended decency.
I dare not silently endure it :
Give me my wand, that I may cure it !
PLUTUS,
The danger from without he does no^ see : Let him alone ; his Fool's-hour fast is waning. There '11 be no space for his mad pranks remaining; Mighty is Law, mightier Necessity.
TUMULT AND SONG.
The savage hosts, with shout and hail,
From mountain-height and forest-vale
Come, irresistibly as Fate :
Their mighty Pan they celebrate.
They know, forsooth, what none can guess, ^
And in the empty circle press. .jJ^
PLUTUS. j/\r
I know you well, and your illustrious Pan ! Boldly together you 've performed your plan. Full well I know what every one does not. And clear for you, as duty bids, the spot. Be Fortune still her favor lending ! The strangest things may here be bred : They know not whitherward they 're wending, Because they h ive not looked ahead.3lV^
SAVAGE SONG.
Furbished people, tinsel-stuff !
They 're coming rude, they 're coming rough ;
In mighty leap, in wildest race,
Coarse and strong they take their place.
ACT I.
FAUNS
Fauns, pair on pair,
Come dancing down,
With oaken crown
On crispy hair;
The fine and pointed ear is seen,
Leaf-hke, the clustering curls between :
A stubby nose, face broad and flat,
The women don't object to that ;
For when his paw holds forth the Faun
The fairest to the dance is drawn.
SATYR.
See now, behind, the Satyr skip With foot of goat, lean leg and hip, — Lean and sinewy must they be : For, chamois-like, on mountains he Loveth to stand or scamper free. Then, strong in freedom of the skies. Child, wife, and man doth he despise. Who, deep in the valley's smoke and steam That they live also, snugly dream ; While, pure and undisturbed, alone The upper world is all his own.
GNOMES.39
The little crowd comes tripping there ; They don't associate pair by pair. In mossy garb, with lantern bright, They move commingling, brisk and light Each working on his separate ground, Like firefly-emmets swarming round ; And press and gather here and there, Always industrious everywhere. With the " Good People " kin we own ; VOL. II. 3 D
50 FAUST.
As surgeons of the rocks we 're known.
Cupping the mountains, bleeding them
From fullest veins, depleting them
Of store of metals, which we pile,
And merrily greet : " Good cheer ! " the while.
Well-meant the words, believe us, then !
We are the friends of all good men.
Yet we the stores of gold unseal
That men may pander, pimp, and steal ;
Nor iron shall fail his haughty hand
Who universal murder planned :
And who these three Commandments breaks
But little heed o' the others takes.
For that we 're not responsible :
We 're patient — be you, too, as well !
GIANTS.
The wild men of the woods they 're named, And in the Hartz are known and famed ; In naked nature's ancient might They come, each one a giant wight. With fir-tree trunk in brawny hand, Around the loins a puffy band, The merest apron of leaf and bough : — The Pope hath no such guards, I trow.
NYMPHS IN CHORUS. ( They surround the great Pan.) He comes ! We scan The world's great All, Whose part doth fall To mighty Pan.
Ye gayest ones, advance to him, Your maddest measures dance to him ! Since serious and kind is he,
ACT /.
He wills that we should joyous be. Under the blue, o'er-vaulting roof, Ever he seemeth slumber-proof ; Yet murmurs of the brooks he knows. And soft airs lull him to repose. At midday sleeping, o'er his brow*" The leaf is moveless on the bough : Of healthy buds the balsam there Pervades the still, suspended air : The nymph no longer dares to leap. And where she stands, she falls asleep. But when, all unexpected, he Maketh his voice heard terribly, Like rattling thunder, roar of wave. Then each one seeks himself to save ; The serried ranks disperse in fright. The hero trembles in the fight. Then honor to whom the honor is due, And hail to him who led us to you I
DEPUTATION OF GNOMES
(to the great Pan). When the rich possession, shining Through the rocks in thread and vein, To the skilful wand's divining Shows its labyrinthine chain.
We in vaults and caverns spacious, Troglodytes, contented bide ; While in purest daylight, gracious. Thou the treasures dost divide.
Now we see, wilt thou believe us. Here a wondrous fountain run, Promising with ease to give us What was hardly to be won.
51
^
52 FAUST.
Lo ! It waits for thy attaining: Then be moved to break the spell! All the wealth which thou art gaining Profits all the world as well.
PLUTUS {to the Herald). We, in the highest sense, must be collected. And let what may come, come, though unexpected Thy courage has not yet been counted short : The fearful thing we now shall see will try it ; The world and History will both deny it. So write it faithfully in thy report !
HERALD. {Grasping the wand which Plutus holds in his hand.)
The dwarfs conduct the great Pan nigher,
Yet gently, to the fount of fire.
It bubbles from the throat profound.
Then sinks, retreating, to the ground.
And dark the open crater shows ;
And then again it boils and glows.
Great Pan in cheerful mood stands by,
Rejoiced the wondrous things to spy,
And right and left the foam-pearls fly.
How can he in the cheat confide ? / He bends and stoops, to look inside. —
ut now, behold ! his beard falls in : —
\ ^ Whose is that smoothly-shaven chin ? ^"^ His hand conceals it from our sight.
What follows is a luckless plight ;
The beard, on fire, flies back to smite
His wreath and head and breast with flame :
To pain is turned the merry game.
They haste to quench the fire, but none
The swiftly-kindling flames can shun,
\v\
ACT I. 53
That flash and dart on other heads
Till wide the conflagration spreads :
Wrapped in the element, in turn
The masking groups take fire and burn.
But hark ! what news is bruited here
From mouth to mouth, from ear to ear ?
O evermore ill-fated night,
That brings to us such woe and blight !
To-morrow will proclaim to all
What no one wishes to befall.
For everywhere the cry I hear :
" The Emperor suffers pain severe ! "
O were the proclamation wrong !
The Emperor burns and all his throng.-*^
Accurst be they who him misled,
With resinous twigs on breast and head,
To rave and bellow hither so,
To general, fatal overthrow.
O Youth ! O Youth ! wilt never thou
Limit thy draught of joy, in season ? —
O Majesty, wilt never thou.
Omnipotent, direct with reason ?
The mimic woods enkindled are ;
The pointed tongues lick upward far
To where the rafters interlace :
A fiery doom hangs o'er the place.
Our cup of misery overflows,
For who shall save us no one knows.
The ash-heap of a night shall hide.
To-morrow, this imperial pride.
PLUTUS.
^h creat( Now be help inaugurated !
Terror is enough created
54 FA UST.
Earth beneath thee peal and quake ! Thou, the spacious breadth of air, Coohng vapors breathe and bear ! Hither speed, around us growing, Misty films and belts o'erflowing, And the fiery tumult tame ! Trickle, whisper, clouds, be crisper, Roll in masses, softly drenching, Mantling everywhere, and quenching ! Ye, the moist, the broadly bright'ning, Change to harmless summer lightning All this empty sport of flame ! — When by spirits we 're molested, Then be Magic manifested.
I
ACT I. 55
IV.
PLEASURE-GARDEN. THE MORNING SUN.
The Emperor, his Court, Gentlemen and Ladies: Faust, Mephistopheles, becomingly, according to the mode, not showily dressed: both kneel.
FAUST.
0 IRE, pardon'st thou the jugglery of flame?
EMPEROR {beckoning him to rise).
1 wish more exhibitions of the same. A-sudden stood I in a glowing sphere ; It almost seemed as if I Pluto were.
There lay, like night, with little fires besprent, A rocky bottom. Out of many a vent, Whirling, a thousand savage flames ascended, Till in a single vault their streamers blended. The tongues even to the highest dome were shot, That ever was, and ever then was not. Through the far space of spiral shafts of flame The long processions of the people came ; Crowding, till all the circle was o'errun, They did me homage, as they 've ever done. Some from my Court I knew : to speak with candor, A Prince I seemed o'er many a salamander.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
That art thou. Sire ! Because each element Fully accepts thy Majesty's intent.
56
FAUST.
1
Obedient Fire is tested now by thee : Where wildest heaving, leap into the Sea, And scarce the pearly floor thy foot shall tread, A grand rotunda rises o'er thy head : Thou seest the green, translucent billows swelling, With purple edge, for thy delightful dwelling. Round thee, the central point. Walk thou at will, The liquid palaces go with thee still ! The very walls rejoice in life, disporting In arrowy flight, in chasing and consorting : Sea-marvels crowd around the glory new and fair. Shoot from all sides, yet none can enter there. There gorgeous dragons, golden- armored, float ; There gapes the shark, thou laughest in his throat.
j However much this Court thy pride may please, Yet hast thou never seen such throngs as these. Nor from the loveliest shalt thou long be parted ; The curious Nereids come, the wild, shy-hearted,
\To thy bright dwelling in the endless waters, — Timid and sly as fish the youngest daughters. The elder cunning : Thetis hears the news And will, at once, her second Peleus choose. The seat, then, on Olympus high and free —
EMPEROR.
The spaces of the air I leave to thee : One all too early must ascend that throne.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
And Earth, high Prince ! already is thine own.
EMPEROR.
What fortune brought thee here, for our delights. Directly from the One and Thousand Nights ? If thou like Scheherazade art rich in stories,
ACT /. 57
My favor shall insure thee higher glories. Be ready always, when your world of day, As often haps, disgusts me every way !
toRDTirGH STeWard {enters hastily). Highness Serene, I never dared expect To trumpet forth a fortune so select As this, supremely blessing me. Which I announce with joy to thee : Reckoning on reckoning 's balanced squarely ; The usurer's claws are blunted rarely ; I 'm from my hellish worry free : Things can't in Heaven more cheerful be.
GENERAL-IN-CHIEF {follows hastily).
Arrears of pay are settled duly. The army is enlisted newly ; The trooper's blood is all alive. The landlords and the wenches thrive.
EMPEROR.
How breathe your breasts in broader spaces ! How cheerful are your furrowed faces ! How ye advance with nimble speed !
TREASURER {appearing). Ask these, 't is they have done the deed !
FAUST.
It is the Chancellor's place the matter to present
CHANCELLOR {who contes forward slowly). In my old days I 'm blest, and most content. So hear and see the fortune-freighted leaf "»- Which has transformed to happiness our grief.
'-A
58 FAUST.
{He reads.) " To all to whom this cometh, be it known : A thousand crowns in worth this note doth own. It to secure, as certain pledge, shall stand All buried treasure in the Emperor's land : And 't is decreed, perfecting thus the scheme, The treasure, soon as raised, shall this redeem."
EMPEROR.
A most enormous cheat — a crime, I fear ! Who forged the Emperor's sign-manual here ? Has there not been a punishment condign ?
TREASURER.
Remember ! Thou the note didst undersign ;
Last night, indeed. Thou stood'st as mighty Pan,
And thus the Chancellor's speech, before thee, ran :
" Grant to thyself the festal pleasure, then
The People's good — a few strokes of the pen ! "
These didst thou give : they were, ere night retreated,
By skilful conjurers thousandfold repeated ;
And, that a like advantage all might claim.
We stamped at once the series with thy name :
Tens, Thirties, Fifties, Hundreds, are prepared.
Thou canst not think how well the folk have fared.
Behold thy town, half-dead once, and decaying.
How all, ahve, enjoying life," are straying!
Although thy name long since the world made glad,
Such currency as now it never had.
No longer needs the alphabet thy nation,
For in this sign each findeth his salvation.
EMPEROR.
And with my people does it pass for gold ?
For pay in court and camp, the notes they hold?
Then I must yield, although the thing 's amazing.
ACT I. 59
LORD HIGH STEWARD.
T was scattered everywhere, like wild-fire blazing,
As currency, and none its course may stop.
A crowd surrounds each money-changer's shop.
And every note is there accepted duly
For gold and silver's worth — with discount, truly.
Thence is it spread to landlords, butchers, bakers ;
One half the people feast as pleasure-takers ;
In raiment new the others proudly go, —
The tradesmen cut their cloth, the tailors sew.
The crowd " The Emperor's health ! " in cellars wishes,
Midst cooking, roasting, rattling of the dishes.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
If one along the lonely terrace stray. He sees the lady, in superb array. With brilliant peacock-fan before one eye ; A note she looks for, as she simpers by, And readier than by wit or eloquence Before Love's favor falls the last defence. One is not plagued his purse or sack to carry ; Such notes one lightly in his bosom bears, Or them with fond epistles neatly pairs : The priest devoutly in his breviary Bears his : the soldier would more freely trip, And lightens thus the girdle round his hip. Your Majesty will pardon, if my carriage Seems as it might the lofty work disparage.
FAUST.
The overplus of wealth, in torpor bound, Which in thy lands lies buried in the ground. Is all unused ; nor boldest thought can measure The narrowest boundaries of such a treasure.
6o FAUST.
Imagination, in its highest flight,
Exerts itself, but cannot grasp it quite ;
Yet minds, that dare explore the secrets soundless,
In boundless things possess a faith that 's boundless,
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Such paper, stead of gold and jewelry. So handy is — one knows one's property : One has no need of bargains or exchanges, But drinks of love or wine, as fancy ranges. If one needs coin, the brokers ready stand. And if it fail, one digs awhile the land. Goblet and chain one then at auction sells. And paper, liquidated thus, compels The shame of doubters and their scornful wit. The people wish naught else ; they 're used to it : From this time forth, your borders, far and wide, With jewels, gold, and paper are supplied.
EMPEROR.
You 've given our empire this prosperity ; The pay, then, equal to the service be ! The soil intrusted to your keeping, shall you The best custodians be, to guard its value. You know the hoards, well-kept, of all the land, And when men dig, 't is you must give command. Unite then now, ye masters of our treasure, This, your new dignity, to wear with pleasure, And bring the Upper World, erewhile asunder, In happiest conjunctioruwith the Under !
TREASURER.
No further strife shall shake our joint position ; I like to have as partner the magician.
{Exit, with FAUSt
ACT I. 6l
EMPEROR.
Man after man, the Court will I endow :
Let each confess for what he '11 spend, and how!
PAGE {recerving). I '11 lead a jolly life, enjoy good cheer.
A SECOND (the same). I '11 buy at once some triilkets for my dear.
CHAMBERLAIN {accepting). Wines twice as good shall down my throat go trickling.
A SECOND [the same). I feel the dice within my pockets tickling.
KNIGHT BANNERET {reflectively).
My lands and castle shall be free of debt.
ANOTHER {the same). I '11 add to other wealth the wealth I get.
EMPEROR.
^ Koped the gifts to bolder deeds would beckon ; But he who knows you, knows whereon to reckon. I see that, spite of all this treasure-burst, You stay exactly as you were at first.
FOOL [approaching). Y«u scatter favors : grant me also some !
EMPEROR.
1 hvju 'rt come to life ? 'T would go at once for rum-
62 FAUST.
FOOL.
The magic leaves ! I don't quite comprehend.
EMPEROR.
That I believe ; for them thou 'It badly spend.
FOOL.
There others drop : I don't know what to do.
EMPEROR.
Just pick them up ! they fall to thy share, too.
{Exit
FOOL.
Five thousand crowns are mine 1 How unexpected !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Two-leggdd wine-skin, art thou resurrected ?
FOOL.
Much luck I 've had, but like this never yet.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Thou 'rt so rejoiced, it puts thee in a sweat.
FOOL.
But look at this, is 't money's-worth, indeed?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
'T will bring thee what thy throat anA belly need.
FOOL.
And cattle can I buy, and house and land ?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Of course ! just make an offer once, off-hand !
ACT r.
FOOL.
Castle and wood, and chase, and fishing ?
63
MEPHISTOPHELES.
I 'd like upon Your Worship then to call.
FOOL.
To-night as landed owner I shall sit
All!
\ExU.
MEPHISTOPHELES {soltis).
Who now will doubt that this our Fool has wit ?
64 FAUST.
c
A GLOOMY GALLERY.
Faust. Mephistopheles.
mephistopheles. "1 T /"HAT wilt thou with me in this gloomy gallery ?
* * Is there not still enough of sport There, in the crowded, motley Court, — Not chance for tricks, and fun, and raillery ?
FAUST.
Don't tell me that ! — In our old days the fun of it
Didst thou wear out, and I '11 have none of it.
Thy wandering here and there is planned
Just to evade what I demand.
But I 'm tormented something to obtain ;
The Marshal drives me, and the Chamberlain.
The Emperor orders, he will instantly
Helen and Paris here before him see, —
The model forms of Man and Woman, wearing.
Distinctly shown, their ancient shape, and bearing.
Now to the work ! I dare not break my word.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
So thoughtlessly to promise was absurd.
FAUST.
Thou hast not, comrade, well reflected What comes of having used thy powers :
ACT L 65
We 've made him rich ; 't is now expected That we amuse his idle hours.
/
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Thou deem'st the thing is quickly fixed : Here before steeper ways we 're standing ; With strangest spheres wouldst thou be mixed, And, sinful, addest new debtsTojESg^d, =^ Think'st Helen will respond to thy commanding As freely as the paper-ghosts of gold ! With witches'-riches and with spectre-pictures. And changeling-dwarfs, I '11 give no cause for strictures ; But Devil's-darlings, though you may not scold 'em, You cannot quite as heroines behold 'em.
FAUST.
The old hand-organ still I hear thee play ! From thee one always gets uncertain sense, The father, thou, of all impediments : For every means thou askest added pay. A little muttering, and the thing takes place ; Ere one can turn, beside us here her shade is.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
I 've no concern with the old heathen race They house within their special Hades Yet there 's a way.
-ace ; /
•" J
FAUST.
Speak, nor delay thy history \
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Unwilling, I reveal a loftier mystery. — In solitude are throned the Goddesses, No Space around them, Place and Time still less ;
E
66 FAUST,
Only to speak of them embarrasses. They are The Mothers ! ^
FAUST {terrified).
Mothers !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Hast thou dread ?
FAUST.
The Mothers ! Mothers ! — a strange word is said.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
It is so. Goddesses, unknown to ye,
The Mortals, — named by us unwillingly.
Delve in the deepest depths must thou, to reach them :
'T is thine own fault that we for help beseech them.
FAUST.
Where is the way ?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
No way ! — To the Unreachable, Ne'er to be trodden ! A way to the Unbeseechable, Never to be besought ! Art thou prepared? There are no locks, no latches to be lifted ; Through endless solitudes shalt thou be drifted. Hast thou through solitudes and deserts fared ?
FAUST.
I think 't were best to spare such speeches ; They smell too strongly of the witches. Of cheats that long ago insnared. Have I not known all earthly vanities ? Learned the inane, and taught inanities ? When as I felt I spake, with sense as guide, The contradiction doubly shrill replied ;
ACT I. 67
Enforced by odious tricks, have I not fled To solitudes and wildernesses dread, And that I might not live alone, unheeded, Myself at last unto the Devil deeded !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
And hadst thou swum to farthest verge of ocean, And there the boundless space beheld. Still hadst thou seen wave after wave in motion. Even though impending doom thy fear compelled. Thou hadst seen something, — in the beryl dim Of peace-lulled seas the sportive dolphins swim ; Hadst seen the flying clouds, sun, moon, and star : Naught shalt thou see in endless Void afar, — Not hear thy footstep fall, nor meet A stable spot to rest thy feet.
FAUST.
Thou speak'st, as of all mystagogues the chief. Who e'er brought faithful neophytes to grief ; Only reversed : — I to the Void am sent. That Art and Power therein I may augment : To use me like the cat is thy desire. To scratch for thee the chestnuts from the fire. Come^on, then ! we Ml explore, whate'er befall;. - In this, thy Nothing, may^find my All I
MEPHISTOPHELES.
I '11 praise thee, ere we separate : I see Thou knowest the Devil thoroughly. Here, take this key ! «
FAUST.
That little thing ?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Take hold of it, not undervaluing !
68 FA UST.
FAUST.
It glows, it shines, — increases in my hand !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
How much 't is worth, thou soon shalt understand. The Key will scent the true place from all others : Follow it down ! — 't will lead thee to the Mothers.
FAUST (shuddering). The Mothers ! Like a blow it strikes me still ! What is the word, to hear which makes me chill ?
MEPHISTOPHELES,
Art thou so weak, disturbed by each new word ? Wilt only hear what thou 'st already heard ? To wondrous things art thou so used already, Let naught, howe'er it sound, make thee unsteady !
FAUST.
Nathless in torpor lies no ^ood for me \^ The chill of dread is Man's best quality^ Though from the teeling ott the worldmay fend us. Deeply we feel, once smitten, the Tremendous.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Descend, then ! I could also say : Ascend ! 'T were all the same. Escape from the Created To shapeless forms in liberated spaces ! Enioy what long ere this was dissipated ! There whirls the press, Hke clouds on clouds unfolding ; Then with stretched arm swing high the key thou 'rt holding !
FAUST {inspired). Good ! grasping firmly, fresher strength I win : My breast expands, let the great work begin !
ACT I. MEPHISTOPHELES.
/hX. last a blazing tripod tells thee this,
/ That there the utterly deepest bottom is. "^^"^^ / )^ •/ Its light to thee will then the Mothers show, ^^^.
j Some in their seats, the others stand or go,
\^ At their own will : Formation, Transformation,
j The Eternal Mind's eternal recreation, J Fornis of all creatures, — there are floating free. \ They '11 see thee not ; for only wraiths they see.
1 So pluck up heart, — the danger then is great, — / Go to the tripod ere thou hesitate, V And touch it with the key !
|Faust, with the key, assumes a decidedly commanding atti tude. MEPHISTOPHELES, observing him.)
So, that is right ! It will adhere, and follow thee to light. Composedly mounting, by thy luck upborne, Before they notice it, shalt thou return. When thou the tripod hither hast conveyed, Then call the hero, heroine, from the shade, — * The first that ever such a deed perfected : 'T is done, and thou thereto hast been selected. For instantly, by magic process warmed, To gods the incense-mist shall be transformed.
FAUST.
What further now ?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Downwajrd thy being strain ! Stamp and descend, stamping thou 'It rise again.
(Faust stamps, and sinks out of sight!)
If only, by the key, he something learn ! I 'm curious to see if he return.
;o FAUST,
I
VI.
BRILLIANTLY LIGHTED HALLS.
Emperor and Princes. The Court in Move- ment.
CHAMBERLAIN (to MePHISTOPHELES).
THE spirit-scene you 've promised, still you owe us ; Our Lord 's impatient ; come, the phantasm show us!
LORD HIGH STEWARD.
Just now His Gracious Self did question me: Delay not, nor offend His Majesty !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
My comrade 's gone to set the work in motion ; How to begin, he has the proper notion. In secret he the charms must cull, .Must labor with a fervor tragic : Who would that treasure Hft, the Beautiful, Requires the highest Art, the sage's Magic.
LORD HIGH STEWARD.
What arts you need, is all the same to me ; The Emperor wills that you should ready be.
A BLONDE {/o MEPHISTOPHELES).
One word, Sir ! Here you see a visage fair, —
In sorry summer I another wear !
There sprout a hundred brown and reddish freckles,
ACT I. 7,
And vex my lily skin with ugly speckles. A cure !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
'T is pity ! Shining fair, yet smitten, — Spotted, when May comes, like a panther-kitten ! Take frog-spawn, tongues of toads, which cohobate, Under the full moon deftly distillate, And, when it wanes, apply the mixture : Next spring, the spots will be no more a fixture.
A BRUNETTE.
To sponge upon you, what a crowd 's advancing 1 I beg a remedy : a frozen foot Annoys me much, in walking as in dancing ; And awkwardly I manage to salute.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
A gentle kick permit, then, from my foot ! ^^
THE BRUNETTE.
Well, — that might happen, when the two are lovers.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
My kick a more important meaning covers :
Similia similibus, when one is sick.
The foot cures foot, each Hmb its hurt can palliate ;
Come near ! Take heed ! and, pray you, don't retaliate !
THE BRUNETTE {screaming). Oh ! oh ! it stings ! That was a fearful kick, Like hoof of horse.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
But it has cured you, quick. ^^ To dance whene'er you please, you now are able ; To press your lover's foot, beneath the table.
72
FA UST.
LADY [pressing forwards ) . Make room for me ! Too great is my affliction, My tortures worse than those described in fiction ; His bliss, till yesterday, was in my glances. But now he turns his back, and spins with ker romances!
MEPHISTOPHELES.
The matter 's grave, but hsten unto me !
Draw near to him with gentle, soft advances ;
Then take this coal and mark him stealthily
On mantle, shoulder, sleeve, — though ne'er so slight,
Yet penitent at once his heart will be.
The coal thereafter you must straightway swallow,
And let no sip of wine or water follow :
He '11 sigh before your door this very night.
THE LADY.
It is not poison, sure ?
MEPHISTOPHELES {offended).
Respect, where it is due ! To get such coals, you 'd travel many a mile : They 're from the embers of a funeral pile, The fires whereof we once more hotly blew.
PAGE.
I love, yet still am counted adolescent.
MEPHISTOPHELES {aside).
I know not whom to listen to, at present.
{To the Page.) Let not the younger girls thy fancies fetter; Those well in years know how to prize thee better. — {Others crowd around him.) Already others ? 'T is a trial, sooth !
ACT I. 73
I '11 help myself, at last, with naked truth — The worst device ! — so great my misery.
0 Mothers ! Mothers ! let but Faust go free !
( Gazing around him.) The lights are burning dimly in the hall, The Court is moving onward, one and all :
1 see them march, according to degrees, Through long arcades and distant galleries. Now they assemble in the ample space
Of the Knights' Hall ; yet hardly all find place. The breadth of walls is hung with arras rich, And armor gleams from every nook and niche. Here, I should think, there needs no magic word : The ghosts will come, and of their own accord.
VOL. IL 4
74
FAUST.
VII.
HALL OF THE KNIGHTS, DIMLY LIGHTED.
( The Emperor and Court have entered.) HERALD.47
MINE ancient office, to proclaim the action, Is by the spirits' secret influence thwarted: One tries in vain ; such wildering distraction Can't be explained, or reasonably reported. The chairs are ranged, the seats are ready all : The Emperor sits, fronting the lofty wall. Where on the tapestry the battles he Of the great era may with comfort see. Here now are all — Prince, Court, and their belonging. Benches on benches in the background thronging ; And lovers, too, in these dim hours enchanted. Beside their loved ones lovingly are planted. And now, since all have found convenient places, We 're ready : let the spirits show the.r faces ' Trumpets.
ASTROLOGER,
Begin the Drama ! 'T is the Sire's command : Ye walls, be severed straightway, and expand ! Naught hinders ; magic answers our desire : The arras flies, as shrivelled up by fire ; The walls are split, unfolded : in the gloom A theatre appears to be created :
ACT I.
By mystic light are we illuminated, And I ascend to the proscenium.
75
MEPHISTOPHELES
{rising to view in the prompter's box). I hope to win, as prompter, general glory ; For prompting is the Devil's oratory.
( To the Astrologer.) Thou know'st the tune and time the stars that lead; Thou wilt my whispers like a master heed.
ASTROLOGER.
By power miraculous, we here behold
A massive temple of the days of old.
Like Alias, who erewhile the heavens upbore,
The serried columns stand, an ample store :
Well may they for the weight of stone suffice,
Since two might bear a mighty edifice.
ARCHITECT.48
That the antique ? As fine it can't be rated ; I 'd sooner style it awkward, over-weighted. Coarse is called noble, and unwieldy, grand : Give me the slender shafts that soar, expand ! To lift the mind, a pointed arch may boast ; Such architecture edifies us most.
ASTROLOGER.
Receive with reverence the star-granted hours ; Let magic words bind Reason's restless powers, But in return unbind, to circle free. The wings of splendid, daring Phantasy ! What you have boldly wished, see now achieved ! Impossible 't is — therefore to be believed.
76
FA UST.
(Faust rises to view on the other side of the proscenium.)
In priestly surplice, crowned, a marvellous man,
He now fulfils what he in faith began.
With him, a tripod from the gulf comes up :
I scent the incense-odors from the cup.
He arms himself, the work to consecrate,
And henceforth it can be but fortunate.
FAUST {sublimely). Ye Mothers, in your name, who set your throne In boundless Space, eternally alone. And yet companioned ! All the forms of Being, In movement, lifeless, ye are round you seeing. Whate'er once was, there burns and brightens free In splendor — for 't would fain eternal be; *' And ye allot it, with all-potent might. To Day's pavilions and the vaults of Night. Life seizes some, along his gracious course ; Others arrests the bold Magician's force ; And he, bestowing as his faith inspires, Displays the Marvellous, that each desires.
ASTROLOGER.
The glowing key has scarcely touched the cup,
And lo ! through all the space, a mist rolls up :
It creeps about, and like a cloudy train,
Spreads, rounding, narrowing, parting, closed again.
And now, behold a spirit-masterpiece !
Music is born from every wandering fleece.
The tones of air, I know not how they flow ;
Where'er they move all things melodious grow.
The pillared shaft, the triglyph even rings :
I think, indeed, the whole bright temple sings.
The vapors settle ; as the light film clears,
A beauteous youth, with rhythmic step, appears.
ACT I.
77
Here ends my task ; his name I need not tell : Who doth not know the gentle Paris well ? 5°
LADY.
O, what a youthful bloom and strength I see !
A SECOND.
Fresh as a peach, and full of juice, is he !
A THIRD.
The finely drawn, the sweetly swelling lip !
A FOURTH.
From such a cup, no doubt, you 'd like to sip ?
A FIFTH.
He 's handsome, if a little unrefined.
A SIXTH.
He might be somewhat gracefuUer, to my mind.
KNIGHT.
The shepherd I detect ; I find him wearing No traces of the Prince, or courtly bearing.
ANOTHER.
O, yes ! half-naked is the youth not bad ; But let us see him first in armor clad !
LADY.
He seats himself, with such a gentle grace I
KNIGHT.
You 'd find his lap, perchance, a pleasant place ?
78
FAUST.
ANOTHER.
He lifts his arm so lightly o'er his head.
CHAMBERLAIN.
'T is not allowed : how thoroughly ill-bred !
LADY.
You lords find fault with all things evermore.
CHAMBERLAIN.
To stretch and yawn before the Emperor !
LADY.
He only acts : he thinks he 's quite alone.
CHAMBERLAIN.
Even the play should be politely shown.
LADY.
Now sleep falls on the graceful youth so sweetly.
CHAMBERLAIN.
Now will he snore : 't is natural, completely !
YOUNG LADY.
Mixed with the incense-steam, what odor precious Steals to my bosom, and my heart refreshes ?
OLDER LADY.
Forsooth, it penetrates and warms the feeling ! It comes from him.
OLDEST LADY.
His flower of youth,, unseahng, It is : Youth's fine ambrosia, ripe, unfading. The atmosphere around his form pervading. (Helena comes forward.)
f
ACT L 79
MEPHISTOPHELES.
So, that is she ? My sleep she would not waste : She 's pretty, truly, but she 's not my taste.
ASTROLOGER.
There 's nothing more for me to do, I trow ; As man of honor, I confess it now. The Beauty comes, and had I tongues of fire, — So many songs did Beauty e'er inspire, — Who sees her, of his wits is dispossessed. And who possessed her was too highly blessed.
FAUST.
Have I still eyes ? Deep in my being springs
The fount of Beauty, in a torrent pouring !
A heavenly gain my path of terror brings.
The world was void, and shut to my exploring, —
And, since my priesthood, how hath it been graced !
Enduring 't is, desirable, firm-based.
And let my breath of being blow to waste,
If I for thee unlearn my sacred duty !
The form, that long erewhile my fancy captured,5*
That from the magic mirror so enraptured.
Was but a frothy phantom of such beauty !
'T is Thou, to whom the stir of all my forces,
The essence of my passion's courses, —
Love, fancy, worship, madness, — here I render !
MEPHISTOPHELES {from the box).
Be calm ! — you lose your role, to be so tender !
OLDER LADY.
Tall and well-formed ! Too small the head, alone.
YOUNGER LADY.
Just see her foot ! A heavier ne'er was shown.
8o FAUST.
DIPLOMATIST.
Princesses of her style I 've often seen : From head to foot she 's beautiful, I ween.
COURTIER.
She near the sleeper steals, so soft and sly.
LADY.
How ugly, near that youthful purity !
POET.
Her beauty's light is on him like a dawn.
LADY.
Endymion and Luna — as they 're drawn !
POET.
Quite right ! The yielding goddess seems to sink, And o'er him bend, his balmy breath to drink. Enviable fate — a kiss ! — the cup is full !
DUENNA.
Before all people ! — that is more than cool.
FAUST.
A fearful favor to the boy !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Be still ! Suffer the shade to do whate'er it will !
COURTIER.
She slips away, light-footed : he awakes.
LADY.
Just as I thought ! Another look she takes.
ACT /. 8l
COURTIER.
He stares : what haps, to him a marvel is.
LADY.
But none to her, what she before her sees !
COURTIER.
She turns around to him with dignity.
LADY.
I see, she means to put him through his paces :
All men, in such a case, act stupidly.
Then, too, he thinks that first he 's won her graces.
KNIGHT.
Majestically fine ! — She pleases me.
LADY.
The courtesan ! How very vulgar she !
PAGE.
Just where he is, is where I 'd like to be !
COURTIER.
Who would not fain be caught in such sweet meshes ?
LADY.
Through many a hand hath. passed that jewel precious; The gilding, too, is for the most part gone.
ANOTHER.
She has been worthless from her tenth year on.
KNIGHT.
Each takes the best that chance for him obtains ; I 'd be contented with these fair remains.
4* F
82 FA UST.
A LEARNED MAN.
I freely own, though I distinctly see, 'T is doubtful if the genuine one she be. The Present leads us to exaggeration, And I hold fast the written, old relation. I read that, truly, ere her bloom was blighted, The Trojan gray-beards greatly she delighted. And here, methinks, it tallies perfectly : I am not young, yet she delighteth me.
ASTROJ.OGER.
No more a boy ! A bold, heroic form. He clasps her, who can scarce resist the storm. With arm grown strong he lifts her high and free : Means he to bear her off ?
FAUST.
Rash fool, let be ! Thou dar'st ? Thou hear'st not ? Hold ! — I '11 be obeyed.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
The spectral drama thou thyself hast made !
ASTROLOGER.
A word more ! After all we 've seen to-day, I call the piece : The Rape ofHelena.^^
FAUST.
What ! Rape ? Am I for nothing here .'* To stead me,
Is not this key still shining in my hand ?
Through realms of terror, wastes, and waves it led me,
Through soHtudes, to where I firmly stand.
Here foothold is ! Realities here centre !
The strife with spirits here the mind may venture,
And on its grand, its double lordship enter !
ACT I. 83
How far she was, and nearer, how divine !
I '11 rescue her, and make her doubly mine. ; Ye Mothers ! Mothers ! crown this wild endeavor ! 1 Who knows her once must hold her, and forever !
ASTROLOGER.
What art thou doing, Faust ? O, look at him ! He seizes her : the form is growing dim. He turns the key against the youth, and, lo ! It touches him — Woe 's me ! Away now ! Woe on woe!
(Explosion. Y kMSl lies upon the earth. The Spirits dissolve in vapor.)
MEPHISTOPHELES {taking Faust upon his shoulders). You have it now ! One's self with fools to hamper. At last even on the Devil puts a damper.
Darkness. Tumult.
84 FAUST.
L^
ACT II.
I.
A HIGH-ARCHED, NARROW, GOTHIC CHAM- BER, FORMERLY FAUST'S, UNCHANGED.
MEPHISTOPHELES [coming forth from behind a curtain.si While he holds it up and looks behind him, Faust is seen lying stretched out upon an antiquated bed) .
IE there, ill-starred ! seduced, unwise. To bonds that surely hold the lover ! Whom Helena shall paralyze Not soon his reason will recover. ( Looking around him. ) I look about, and through the glimmer Unchanged, uninjured, all appears : The colored window-panes, methinks, are dimmer, The cobwebs have increased with years. The ink is dry, the paper old and brown, But each thing in its place I find : Even the quill is here laid down. Wherewith his compact with the Devil he signed. Yea, deeper in, the barrel 's red With trace of blood I coaxed him then to shed. A thing so totally unique The great collectors would go far to seek.
ACT II.
85
Half from its hook the old fur-robe is falling, That ancient joke of mine recalling, How once I taught the boy such truth As still, it may be, nourishes the youth. The wish returns, with zest acuter, Aided by thee, thou rough disguise. Once more to take on airs as college tutor, As one infallible in one's own eyes. The savans this assurance know : The Devil lost it, long ago !
[He shakes the fur which he has taken down : moths, crickets, and beetles fly out.)
CHORUS OF INSECTS.
Welcome, and hail to thee ! Patron, to-day : We 're flying and humming. We hear and obey. Singly and silently Us thou hast sown ; Hither, by thousands, Father, we 've flown. The imp in the bosom Is snugly concealed ; But lice in the fur-coat Are sooner revealed.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
What glad surprise I feel, from this young Hfe bestowed ' One reaps in time, if one has only sowed. Once more I '11 shake the ancient fleeces out : Still here and there a chance one flies about. — Off, and around ' in hundred thousand nooks Hasten to hide yourselves — among the books, There, in the pasteboard's wormy holes,
A
86 FA UST.
Here, in the smoky parchment scrolls, In dusty jars, that broken lie, And yonder skull with empty eye. In all this trash and mould unmatched, Crotchets forever must be hatched.s^
{He puts on the fur-mantle.) Come, once again upon my shoulders fall ! Once more am I the Principal. But 't is no good to ape the college ; For where are those who will my claim acknowledge ? {He pulls the bell, which gives out a shrill, penetrating sound, causing the halls to tremble and the doors to fly open.)
FAMULUS [tottering hither down the long, dark gallery). What a sound ! What dreadful quaking ! Stairs are rocking, walls are shaking ; Through the colored windows brightening I behold the sudden lightning; Floors above me crack and rumble, Lime and lumber round me tumble, And the door, securely bolted. Is by magic force unfolded. — There ! How terrible ! a Giant Stands in Faust's old fur, defiant ! As he looks, and beckons thither, I could fall, my senses wither. Shall I fly, or shall I wait.? What, O what shall be my fate !
MEPHISTOPHELES {beckoning).
Ji/^^ Jf /jL^omQ hither. Friend ! Your name is Nicodemus
//' Ji/^^ "^ FAMULUS.
• i/Y'^ Most honored Sir, such is my name — Oremus /
ACT II. 87
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Dispense with that !
FAMULUS.
O joy ! you know me yet.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Old, and a student still, — I don't forget,
Most mossy Sir ! Also a learned man
Continues study, since naught else he can.
'T is thus one builds a moderate house of cards ;
The greatest minds ne'er end them, afterwards.
Your master is a skilful fellow, though :
The noble Doctor Wagner all must know.
The first in all the learned world is he,
Who now together holds it potently,
Wisdom increasing, daily making clearer.
How thirst for knowledge Hstener and hearer !
A mighty crowd around him flocks.
None for the rostrum e'er were meeter:
The keys he holds as doth Saint Peter,
The Under and the Upper he unlocks.
His light above all others sparkles surer,
No name or fame beside him lives :
Even that of Faust has grown obscurer ;
'T is he alone invents and gives.
FAMULUS.
Pardon, most honored Sir ! if I am daring
To contradict you, in declaring
All that upon the subject has no bearing ;
For modesty is his allotted part.
The incomprehensible disappearing
Of that great man to him is most uncheering;
From his return he hopes new strength and joy of heart.
88 FAUST.
As in the days of Doctor Faust, the room, Since he 's away, all things unchanged, Waits for its master, long estranged. To venture in, I scarce presume. — What stars must govern now the skies ! It seemed as if the basements quivered ; The door-posts trembled, bolts were shivered : You had not entered, otherwise.
^^
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Where may his present dwelling be ? Lead me to him ! Bring him to me !
FAMULUS.
His prohibition is so keen !
I do not dare to intervene.
For months, his time unto the great work giving,
In most secluded silence he is living.
The daintiest of distinguished learners.
His face is like a charcoal-burner's,
From nose to ears all black and deadened ;
His eyes from blowing flames are reddened :
Thus he, each moment, pants and longs,
And music make the clattering tongs.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
An entrance why should he deny me ? I '11 expedite his luck, if he '11 but try me !
{The Famulus goes off: Mephistopheles seats himself with gravity.)
Scarce have I taken my position here, When there, behind, I see a guest appear. I know him ; he is of the school new-founded. And his presumption will be quite unbounded.
ACT 11. 89
BACCAL AUREUS 55 {storming along the corridor). Doors and entrances are open ! Well, — at last there 's ground for hoping That no more, in mouldy lumber, Death-like, doth the Living slumber, To himself privations giving, Till he dies of very Hving !
All this masonry, I 'm thinking, To its overthrow is sinking ; And, unless at once we hurry. Us will crash and ruin bury. Daring though I be, 't were murther Should I dare to venture further.
What is that I see before me .''
Here, (what years have since rolled o'er me !)
Shy and unsophisticated,
I as honest freshman waited ;
Here I let the gray-beards guide me.
Here their babble edified me !
Out of dry old volumes preaching. What they knew, they hed in teaching ; What they knew, themselves beUeved not, Stezfling life, that years retrieved not. What ! — in yonder cell benighted One still sits, obscurely lighted !
Nearer now, I see, astounded, Still he sits, with furs surrounded, — Truly, as I saw him last, Roughest fleeces round him cast! Then adroit he seemed to be, Not yet understood by me :
90
FAUST.
But to-day 't will naught avail him — O, I '11 neither fear nor fail him !
If, ancient Sir, that bald head, sidewards bending, Hath not been dipped in Lethe's river cold. See, hitherward, your grateful scholar wending. Outgrown the academic rods of old. You 're here, as then when I began ; But / am now another man.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
I 'm glad my bell your visit brought me.
Your talents, then, I rated high ;
The worm, the chrysalid soon taught me
The future brilliant butterfly.
Your curly locks and ruffle-laces
A childish pleasure gave ; you wooed the graces.
A queue, I think, you 've never worn ?
But now your head is cropped and shorn.
Quite bold and resolute you appear.
But don't go, absolute^ home from here ! s^
BACCALAUREUS.
Old master, in your old place leaning. Think how the time has sped, the while ! Spare me your words of double meaning? We take them now in quite another style. You teased and vexed the honest youth ; You found it easy then, in truth. To do what no one dares, to-day.
MEPHISTOPHELES. '
If to the young the simple truth we say, The green ones find it nowise pleasant play, But afterwards, when years are over,
ACT IL 91
.-A And they the truth through their own hide discover,
Then they conceive, themselves have found it out ;
" The master was a fool ! " one hears them shout.
BACCALAUREUS.
A rogue, perhaps ! What teacher will declare The truth to us, exactly fair and square ? Each knows the way to lessen or exceed it, Now stern, now lively, as the children need it
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Beyond a doubt, there is a time to learn ; But you are skilled to teach, I now discern. Since many a moon, some circles of the sun, The riches of experience you have won.
BACCALAUREUS.
Experience ! mist and froth alone ! Nor with the mind at all coequal : Confess, what one has always known Is not worth knowing, in the sequel!
MEPHISTOPHELES {after a pause). It 's long seemed so to me. I was a fool : My shallowness I now must ridicule.
BACCALAUREUS.
I 'm glad of that ! I hear some reason yet — > The first old man of sense I ever met !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
I sought for hidden treasures, grand and golden, And hideous coals and ashes were my share.
BACCALAUREUS.
Confess that now your skull, though bald and olden, Is worth no more than is yon empty, there!
92
FAUST.
MEPHISTOPHELES [amiably).
Know'st thou, my friend, how rude thou art to me ? ,"'
BACCALAUREUS.
One lies, in German, would one courteous be.
MEPHISTOPHELES (^heeling his chair still nearer to the proscenium, to the spec* tators).
Up here am I deprived of light and air : Shall I find shelter down among you there ?
BACCALAUREUS.
It is presumptuous, that one will try
Still to be something, when the time 's gone by.
Man's life lives in his blood, and where, in sooth,
So stirs the blood as in the veins of youth .''
There living blood in freshest power pulsates.
And newer life from its own hfe creates.
Then something 's done, then moves and works the man-,
The weak fall out, the sturdy take the van.
While half the world beneath our yoke is brought,
What, then, have you accomplished ? Nodded —
thought — Dreamed, and considered — plan, and always plan ! Age is an ague-fever, it is clear. With chills of moody want and dread ; When one has passed his thirtieth year. One then is just the same as dead.s7 'T were best, betimes, to put you out o' the way.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
The Devil, here, has nothing more to say.
BACCALAUREUS.
Save through my will, no Devil can there be.
ACT IT. 93
MEPHISTOPHELES [aside).
The Devil, though, will trip thee presently !
BACCALAUREUS.
This is Youth's noblest calling and most fit !
The world was not, ere I created it ;
The sun I drew from out the orient sea ;
The moon began her changeful course with me ;
The Day put on his shining robes, to greet me ;
The Earth grew green, and burst in flower to meet me,
And when I beckoned, from the primal night
The stars unveiled their splendors to my sight.
Who, save myself, to you deliverance brought
From commonplaces of restricted thought ?
I, proud and free, even as dictates my mind,
Follow with joy the inward light I find,
And speed along, in mine own ecstasy,
Darkness behind, the Glory leading me !
{Exit
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Go hence, magnificent Original ! — What grief on thee would insight cast ! Who can think wise or stupid things at all. That were not thought akeady in the Past ? ss Yet even from him we 're not in special peril ; He will, erelong, to other thoughts incline : The must may foam absurdly in the barrel, Nathless it turns at last to wine.
{To the younger parterre, which does not applaud. ^ My words, I see, have left you cold ; For you, my children, it may fall so : Consider now, the Devil 's old ; To understand him, be old also !
94
FAUST.
m%
11.
LABORATORY.
After the manner of the Middle Ages ; extensive, ponderoui apparatus for fantastic purposes.
WAGNER {at the furnace).
THE loud bell chimes with fearful clangor, The sooty walls feel the vibration ; Soon must the long suspense be ended Of my most earnest expectation. It shines, the darknesses are rended : Within the phial's inmost chamber It gleams, as doth a living ember, — Yea, a carbuncle, burning, bright'ning. It rays the darkness with its lightning. Now white and clear the lustres blend ! O that I hold, nor lose it more ! Ah, God ! what rattles at the door ?
MEPHISTOPHELES {entering). Welcome ! I mean it as a friend.
WAGNER {anxiously).
Be welcome to the planet of the hour !
( Whispering. ) Yet breath and speech suspend ! A work of power, A splendid work, will soon be here displayed.
MEPHISTOPHELES {whispering).
ACT //. 95
WAGNER {whispering). A man is being made.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
A man? And what enamored pair Have you within the chimney hidden?
WAGNER.
Nay, God forbid ! This procreation is most rare : Of the old, senseless mode we 're now well ridden. The tender point, whence Life commenced its course, The outward stress of gracious inward force, Which took and gave, itself delineating. First near, then foreign traits assimilating, We now of all its dignity divest : The beast therein may further find a zest, I
But Man must learn, with his great gifts, to win I Henceforth a purer, loftier origin. »
( Turning towards the furnace.)
It brightens, — see ! Sure, now, my hopes increase
That if, from many hundred substances.
Through mixture — since on mixture all depends —
The human substance gently be compounded,
And by a closed retort surrounded.
Distilled, and fed, and slowly founded,
Then in success the secret labor ends.
{Again turning towards the furnace.)
'T will be ! the mass is working clearer ! Conviction gathers, truer, nearer ! The mystery which for Man in Nature lies We dare to test, by knowledge led ; And that which she was wont to organize We crystallize, instead.
96 FAUST.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Who lives, learns many secrets to unravel ;
For him, upon this earth, there 's nothing new can be :
I 've seen already, in my years of travel,
Much crystallized humanity.
WAGNER {up to this time continuously attentive to the phial). It mounts, it lightens, grows, — 't is won ! A moment more, and it is done ! Insane, at first, appears a great intent; We yet shall laugh at chance in generation ; A brain like this, for genuine thinking meant. Will henceforth be a thinker's sure creation.
{Rapturously inspecting the phial.) The glass vibrates with sweet and powerful tone ; It darkens, clears : it must arrive at being ! And now in dehcate shape is shown A pretty manikin, moving, living, seeing ! What more can we, what more the world demand ? The secret, solved, all men may reach : Hark ! as the ringing tones expand. They form a voice, result in speech.
HOMUNCULUSS9
{in the phial, to Wagner).
How goes it, Daddy ? It was then no jest !
Come, press me tenderly upon thy breast !
But not too hard, for fear the glass might shatter !
This is the quality of matter :
For what is natural, scarce the world has place ;
What 's artificial, needs restricted space.
{To MEPHISTOPHELES.)
Thau_mgue^irjCgusin ! here I find thee, too ?
ACT II.
And at the proper time ! My thanks are due : A lucky fortune led thee here to me ; Since I exist, then I must active be. I 'd fain begin my work without delay : Thou art adroit in shortening my way.
WAGNER.
But first, a word ! I 'm shamed that answers fail me *, For old and young with problems so assail me. Now, for example, none e'er comprehended How soul and body wedded are and blended, — Hold fast, as if defying separation. Yet never cease their mutual irritation. Therefore —
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Desist ! I 'd rather ask him why The man and wife agree so wretchedly. To thee, my friend, the thing will ne'er be clear : There 's work to do : for that the little fellow 's here.
HOMUNCULUS.
What 's to be done ?
MEPHISTOPHELES (pointing to a side-door). Thy talents here employ !
WAGNER {still gazing- at the phial) . Forsooth, thou art the very loveliest boy ! ( The side-door opens : Faust is seen stretched out upon a couch.)
HOMUNCULUS {astonished). Significant ! —
[The phial slips out ^Wagner's hands, hovers over Faust, and shines upon him.) Fair 'scenery !^ — Waters, moving VOL. n. 5 G
98 FAUST.
In forest shadows : women there, undressing,
The loveliest forms ! — the picture is improving.
One, marked by beauty, splendidly expressing
Descent from Gods or high heroic races.
Now dips her foot in the translucent shimmer :
The living flame of her sweet form displaces
The yielding crystal, cool around the swimmer.
But what a sound of wings ! What rapid dashing
Across the glassy pool, what fluttering, splashing !
The maidens fly, alarmed ; but only she.
The queen, looks on, composed and terror-free,
And sees with proud and womanly delight
The swan-prince press her knee with plumage white,
Importunately tame : he grows acquainted. —
But all at once floats up a vapor pale.
And covers with its closely-woven veil
The loveliest picture ever dreamed or painted.
MEPHISTOPHELES. *
How much hast thou to tell, — what stories merry ! So small thou art, so great a visionary ! Nothing see I ! —
HOMUNCULUS.
Of course. Thou, from the North, And in the age of mist brought forth. In knighthood's and in priestcraft's murky den, How should thy sight be clearer, then ? In gloom alone art thou at home.
( Gazing around. ) Brown masonry, repellent, crumbling slowly, Arch-pointed, finical, fantastic, lowly ! — If this man wakes, another danger 's nigh ; At once upon the spot he '11 die. Wood-fountains, swans, and naked beauties.
ACT II.
99
Such was his dream of presage fair : How should these dark surroundings suit his Desires, when them / scarce can bear ? Away with him !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
I hail the issue's chances.
HOMUNCULUS.
Command the warrior to the fight, Conduct the maiden to the dances, And all is finished, as is right. Just now — there breaks on me a light — 'T is Classical Walpurgis-Night ; Whate'er may come, it is the best event, j So bring him to his proper element !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
The like of that I never heard one mention.
HOMUNCULUS.
How should it have attracted your attention } Only romantic ghosts are known to you ; A genuine phantom must be classic too.
MEPHISTOPHELES. ^
But whitherward shall then we travel, tell me ! Your antique cronies in advance repel me.
HOMUNCULUS.
Northwestwards, Satan, is thy park and pale. But we, this time, southeastwards sail. Peneus, there, the great plain wanders through. By thickets, groves, and silent coves, and meadow grasses ;
lOO FAUST.
The level stretches to the mountain passes, And o'er it lies Pharsalus, old and new.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Alas ! have done ! Bring not that fell collision
Of tyrant and of slave before my vision !
I 'm tired of that : for scarcely is it done
Than they the same thing have again begun ;
And no one marks that he 's the puppet blind
Of sly Asm5di, lurking there behind.
They fight, we 're told, their freedom's right to save ;
But, clearher seen, 't is slave that fights with slave.^*
HOMUNCULUS.
Leave unto men their fractiousness and clatter : Each must protect himself, as best he can, From boyhood up, and thus becomes a man. How this one shall recover, is our matter. Hast thou a method, let it tested be ! But hast thou none, so leave the case to me !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
There 's many a Brocken-method I might try, But pagan bolts, I find, the way deny. The Grecian race was Httle worth, alway ; It dazzles with the senses' freer play. To cheerful sins the heart of man entices ; While ours are ever counted gloomy vices. Now, what shall be ?
HOMUNCULUS.
Shyness was ne'er thy blame. When I to thee ThessaHan witches name, I 've not said nothing, that I know.
ACT If. 1 01
MEPHISTOPHELES [lustfully).
Thessalian witches ! Well ! The persons, those,
Whom I inquired for, long ago.
Night after night beside them to repose,
I think would hardly suit : but so,
A mere espial, trial, —
HOMUNCULUS.
Here ! cast o'er The knight your magic mantle, and infold him ! The rag will still, as heretofore, Upon his airy course — and thine — uphold him. I '11 light the way.
WAGNER {anxiously). And I?
HOMUNCULUS.
Eh? You Will stay at home, most weighty work to do. Unfold your ancient parchments, and collect Life's elements as your recipes direct, One to the other with due caution fitting. The What consider, more the How and Why /
I 'Meanwhile, about the world at random flitting, I may detect the dot upon the " I."^^' The lofty aim will then accomplished be ;
^Such an endeavor merits such requital : uold, honor, glory, healthy forces vital. And science, too, and virtue, — possibly. Farewell !
WAGNER (sorrowfully). Farewell ! It doth depress my heart : I fear, already, we forever part.
I02 FAUST.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Down to Peneus, with his aid ! Sir Cousin is a deft attendant.
{Ad spectatores^ Upon the creatures we have made We are, ourselves, at last, dependent.
.63
ACT II. 103
III. .
CLASSICAL WALPURGIS-NIGHT.«4
L
THE PHARSALIAN FIELDS. Darkness.
ERICHTHO.
TO this night's awfu\ festival, as oft before, I enter here, Erichtho, I, the gloomy one : Not so atrocious as the evil poets draw, In most superfluous slander — for they never cease Their blame or praises . . . Over-whitened I behold The vale, with waves of tents that glimmer gray afar, The after-vision of that fatal, fearful night. How oft is it repeated ! — will forever be Forever re-enacted ! No one grants the realm Unto another : unto him whose might achieved And rules it, none ; for each, incompetent to rule His own internal self, is all too fain to sway His neighbor's will, even as his haughty mind inclines. But here a lesson grand was battled to the end, How force resists and grapples with the greater force, The lovely, thousand-blossomed wreath of Freedom
rends. And bends the stubborn laurel round the Ruler's brow. Here, of his days of early greatness Pompey dreamed : Before the trembling balance Caesar yonder watched ! It will be weighed : the world knows unto whom it turned.
I04
FAUST.
The watch-fires flash and glow, spendthrift of ruddy
flame ; Reflections of the squandered blood the earth exhales, And, lured by rare and marvellous splendor of the night, The legion of Hellenic legends gathers here. Round all the fires uncertain hover, or at ease Sit near them, fabulous forms of ancient days. . . . The moon, imperfect, truly, but of clearest beam, Arises, scattering mellow radiance everywhere : Vanish the phantom tents, the fires are burning blue.
But o'er my head what unexpected meteor ! It shines, illuminates the sphere of earth below. I scent the Living ! therefore it becomes me not Them to approach, I being harmful unto them : An evil name it brings me, and it profits naught. Already now it sinks : discreetly I withdraw.
{Exit
The Airy Travellers above.
HOMUNCULUS.
Once again the circle follow. O'er the flames and horrors hover ! Ghostly 't is in vale and hollow, Spectral all that we discover.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
If, as through my window nightly In the grewsome North, I see Spectres hideous and unsightly, Here is home, as there, to me.
HOMUNCULUS.
See ! a tall one there is striding On before us, in the shade.
ACT 11.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
105
Through the air she saw us ghding, And it seems she is afraid.
HOMUNCULUS.
Let her stride ! The knight be taken Now, and set upon the strand : Here to life again he '11 waken, Seeking it in fable-land.
FAUST {as he touches tJ^e earth). Where is she .-* —
HOMUNCULUS.
It 's more than we can tell, But to inquire would here be well. Thou 'rt free to hasten, ere the day. From flame to flame, and seek her so : Who to the Mothers found his way. Has nothing more to undergo.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
I also claim my share in the excursion ; Yet know no better plan for our diversion, Than that each one, amid these fires. Should seek such fortunes as he most desires. Then, as a sign to reunite us. Let, httle one, thy lantern sound and light us !
HOMUNCULUS.
Thus shall it shine, and thus shall ring!
( TTie glass shines and rings powerfully.) And now, away to many a marvellous thing !
lo6 FAUST.
FAUST [solus).
Where is she? — But no further question make ! If this were not the soil that bore her feet, If not the wave that to her coming beat, Yet 't is the air that knows the tongue she spake. Here, by a marvel ! Here, on Grecian land ! ^s I felt at once the earth whereon I stand. Through me, the sleeper, fresher spirit stealing, I rise refreshed, Antaeus in my feeUng. Together here I find the strangest store ; Let me this labyrinth of flames explore.
\Goes away.
MEPHISTOPHELES {prying around). And as among these fires I wander, aimless, I find myself so strange, so disconcerted : ^ Quite naked most, a few are only shirted ; The Griffins insolent, the Sphinxes shameless. And what not all, with pinions and with tresses. Before, behind, upon one's eyesight presses ! — Indecency, 't is true, is our ideal. But the Antique is too alive and real ; One must with modern thought the thing bemaster. And in the fashion variously o'erplaster : — Disgusting race ! Yet I, perforce, must meet them, And as new guest with due decorum greet them. — Hail, then, Fair Ladies ! Graybeards wise, good cheer:
GRIFFIN {snarling). Not graybeards ! Graybeards ? No one likes to hear One call him gray. For in each word there rings The source, wherefrom its derivation springs.^7 Gray, growling, grewsome, grinning, graves, and grimly * Etymologically accord, nor dimly, And make us grim.
ACT II.
107
MEPHISTOPHELES.
And yet, why need you stiffen ? You like the jgr^in your proud title, " Griffin."
GRIFFIN {as above y and continuously so"). Of course ! for this relation is found fit ; Though often censured, oftener praised was it. Let one but grip at maidens, crowns, and gold : Fortune is gracious to the Griper bold.
ANTS {of the colossal kind).
You speak of gold, much had ourselves collected ;
In rocks and caverns secretly we trapped it :
The Arimaspean race our store detected, —
They 're laughing now, so far away they 've snapped it
THE GRIFFINS.
We soon shall force them to confess.
THE ARIMASPEANS.^
But not in this free night of jubilee. Before the morrow, al^ will squandered be ; This time our efforts will obtain success.
MEPHISTOPHELES {■who has seated himself between the SPHINXES^ How soon I feel familiar here, among you ! I understand you, one and all.
SPHINX.
Our spirit-tones, when we have sung you,
Become, for you, material.
Now name thyself, till we shall know thee better.
lo8 FAUST.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
With many names would men my nature fetter. Are Britons here ? So round the world they wheel. To stare at battle-fields, historic traces, Cascades, old walls, and classic dreary places ; And here were something worthy of their zeal. Their Old Plays also testify of me ; Men saw me there as " Old Iniquity."
SPHINX.
How did they hit on that ?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
I know not, verily.
SPHINX.
Perhaps ! Hast thou in star-lore any power ? What say'st thou of the aspects of the hour ?
MEPHISTOPHELES {looking Up).
Star shoots on star, the cloven moon doth ride In brilliance ; in this place I 'm satisfied : I warm myself against thy lion's hide. It were a loss to rise from out these shades : — Propose enigmas, or at least charades !
SPHINX.
Express thyself, and 't will a riddle be.69 Try once thine own analysis : 't were merry. " To both Devout and Wicked necessary : To those, a breast-plate for ascetic fighting ; To these, boon-comrade, in their pranks uniting ; And both amusing Zeus, the fun-delighting."
ACT II. 109
FIRST GRIFFIN {snarling). I like not him !
SECOND GRIFFIN {snarling more gruffly). What will the fellow here ?
BOTH.
The Nasty One is not of us, 't is clear !
MEPHISTOPHELES {brutally).
Think'st thou, perhaps, thy guest has nails to scratch, That with thy sharper talons cannot match ? Just try it once !
SPHINX {gently). Stay, shouldst thou find it well ; But from our ranks thou wilt thyself expel. In thine own land thou 'rt wont thyself to pamper, Yet here, I think, thy spirits feel a damper.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Thine upper part entices ; naught is fairer ; But, further down, the beast excites my terror,
SPHINX.
Bitter, False one, will be thy expiation ; Our claws are sound and worthy proof, But thou, with withered horse's-hoof. Art ill at ease in our association.
( The Sirens prelude above. \ MEPHISTOPHELES.
On yonder poplars by the river. What are the birds that swing above.'*
no FAUST.
SPHINX.
Beware ! The very best that ever Existed, they have lured to love.
SIRENS.7°
Ah, why vitiate your senses, Where those Uglinesses darken .? We, in crowds, come hither : hearken How the accordant strain commences, Meet for Sirens' soft pretences !
SPHINXES {mocking them, in the same melody). Let them to descend be bidden ! In the branches they have hidden Hideous falcon-claws they 're wearing, And you '11 feel their cruel tearing. Once you lend them willing ear.
SIRENS.
Banish hate and envy, rather! We the purest pleasures gather. Under Heaven's auspicious sphere ! On the earth and on the ocean, We, with cheerful beckoning motion. Bid the wanderer welcome here.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
These are of novelties the neatest,
Where from the throat and harp-string sweetest
The tones around each other twine.
They 're lost on me, these tinkUng trickles ;
The sound my ear-drum pats and tickles,
But cannot reach this heart of mine.
ACT 11. HI
SPHINXES.
Speak not of heart ! Fool, so to call it ! An old and wrinkled leathern wallet Would better suit that face of thine.
FAUST {approaching). How Strange ! I, satisfied, behold these creatures, In the Repulsive, grand and solid features : t- A fate propitious I behold advance. Whither transports me now this solemn glance ?
{Pointing to the Sphinxes.) Once before these took (Edipus his stand:
{Pointing to the Sirens.) These made Ulysses writhe in hempen band :
{Pointing to the Ants. ) By these the highest treasure was amassed :
{Pointing to the GRIFFINS.) By these 't was held inviolate and fast : Fresh spirit fills me, face to face with these — Grand are the Forms, and grand the Memories !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Once thou hadst cursed such crude antiques, But now, it seems, they 've comfort given ; For when a man his sweetheart seeks. Welcome to him are monsters, even.
FAUST {to the Sphinxes). Ye woman-forms, give ear, and say Hath one of you seen Helena ?
SPHINXES.
Before her day our line expired in Greece ; Our very last was slain by Hercules :
112 FAUST.
Yet ask of Chiron, if thou please.
He gallops round throughout this ghostly night.
And if he halt for thee, thy chance is bright.
S/RENS.
Thou art not to failure fated ! How Ulysses, lingering, learned us, Nor, regardless passing, spurned us, Manifold hath he narrated : All to thee shall be confided, Seekest thou our meads, divided By the dark-green arms of Ocean.
. SPHINX.
Let not thyself thus cheated be ! Not like Ulysses bound, — but we Will with good counsel thee environ : If thou canst find the noble Chiron, Thou 'It learn what I have promised thee.
[Faust goes away»
MEPHISTOPHELES [ill-temperedly). What croaks and flaps of wings go past ! One cannot see, they fly so fast. In single file, from first to last: A hunter would grow tired of these.
SPHINX.
The storm-wind like, that winter harrows. Reached hardly by Alcides' arrows, They are the swift Stymphalides ; And not ill-meant their greetings creak, With goose's foot and vulture's beak. They fain would join us in our places. And show themselves as kindred races.
^
ACT II. 11^
MEPHISTOPHELES {as if intimidated), Some other brute is hissing shrill.
SPHINX.
]^e not afraid, though harsh the paean !
They are the hydra-heads, the old Lernaean,
Cut from the trunk, yet think they 're something still.
\ But say, what means your air distressed 1
\ Why show your gestures such unrest ? Where will you go ? Then take your leave!
J That chorus, there, I now perceive,
\ Turns like a weathercock your neck. Advance ! — I Greet as you will each lovely countenance ! They are the Lamiae, wenches vile, With brazen brows and lips that smile. Such as the satyr-folk have found so fair : A cloven foot may venture all things there.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
But stay you here, that I again may find you ?
SPHINX.
Yes ! Join the airy rabble, there behind you ! From Egypt we, long since, with all our peers, Accustomed were to reign a thousand years. If for our place your reverence be won. We rule for you the days of Moon and Sun, We sit before the Pyramids For the judgment of the Races, Inundation, War, and Peace, — With eternal changeless faces.
114 FAUST.
II. PENEUS
(surrounded witk Nymphs and Tributary Streams).
PENEUS.72
STIR yourselves, ye whispering rushes. Rustle, slender willow-bushes, Sister reeds, breathe softer, crisper. Trembling poplar-branches, whisper To the interrupted dream ! Fearful premonitions wake me. Secret shudders thrill and shake me In my rippling, sleeping stream.
FAUST [advancing to the river). Here, behind the vines that dangle O'er the thicket's bowery tangle. If I heard aright, were noises Similar to human voices. Babbling seemed the wave to patter, And the breeze in sport to chatter.
NYMPHS {to Faust). For thee were it better To lie here, reviving In coolness thy body, Outwearied with striving, — The rest, that eludes thee, To taste, and be free : We '11 rustle and murmur, And whisper to thee.
ACT II. 115
FAUST.
I am awake ! Let them delay me,
The incomparable Forms ! — and sway me,
As yonder to my sight confessed !
How strangely am I moved, how nearly !
Are they but dreams ? or memories, merely ?
Already once was I so blest.
Beneath the swaying bushes hiding,
The full, fresh waves are softly gliding ;
They scarcely rustle on their path :
A hundred founts from all sides hasten,
To fill a pure and sparkhng basin.
The hollowed level of a bath.
The fair young limbs of women trouble
The watery glass that makes them double,
And doubles, thus, the eye's delight :
In joyous bath each other aiding.
Or boldly swimming, shyly wading,
Then cry, and splash, and foamy fight.
It were enough, the picture viewing, —
My healthy eyesight here renewing, —
Yet I desire the still unseen.
My gaze would pierce through yonder cover,
Whose leafy wealth is folded over
The vision of the stately Queen.
Strange ! across the crystal skimming. From the coves the swans are swimming, Moving in majestic state : Floating calmly and united. But how proud and self-delighted. Head and neck they lift elate ! . . . One, his feathers proudly pluming, Boldly on his grace presuming, Leads the others in the race ;
Ii6 FAUST.
With his whitest plumage showing Wave-Hke on the wave he 's throwing, Speeds he to the sacred place. . . . The others back and forth together Swim on with smoothly shining featherj And soon, in mimic battle met, Shall chase aside the maids affrighted, Till, for their own protection slighted, Their bounden service they forget.
NYMPHS.
Sisters, bend and lay the ear On the turf beside the river ! Sound of hoofs, if right I hear. Swift approaching, seems to shiver. Would I knew whose rapid flight Brings a message to the Night !
FAUST.
As I think, the earth is ringing From a charger, hither springing.
See there ! See there !
A fortune comes, most fair :
Shall I attain its blessing ?
O, marvel past expressing ! A rider trots towards us free : Spirit and strength in him I see, — Upon a snow-white steed careering. . . . I know him now, I hail with awe The famous son of Philyra ! — Halt, Chiron, halt ! I 've something for thy hearing.
CHIRON.73
What then ? What is
is it ? yJ!i^^
ACT II. FAUST.
Thy course delay !
CHIRON.
I rest not
FAUST.
Take me with thee, then, I pray !
CHIRON.
Mount ! and I thus can ask, at leisure. Whither thy way. Thou standest' on the shore ; I '11 bear thee through the flood, with pleasure.
FAUST {mounting). Whither thou wilt. I thank thee evermore. . . . The mighty man, the pedagogue, whose place And fame it was, to teach a hero-race, — The splendid circle of the Argonauts, And all whose deeds made quick the Poet's thoughts.
CHIRON.
We will not further speak of these ! As Mentor even Pallas is not venerated ; And, after all, they manage as they please, As if they 'd not been educated.
FAUST.
The leech, who knoweth flower and fruit, Whose lore can sound the deepest root, — Who heals the sick, and soothes the wounded place, Him, here, in mind and body I embrace !
CHIRON.
When heroes, near me, felt the smart. My helpful knowledge failed them seldom ;
117
Il8 FAUST.
But, at the last, I left mine art
To priest and simple-gathering beldam.
FAUST.
Thy speech the true great man betrays, Who cannot hear a word of praise ; His modesty would fain confound us To think his equals still were round us.
CHIRON.
Thou seemest skilled to feign such matter — People and Prince alike to flatter. .
FAUST.
But surely thou wilt grant to me
That thou the greatest of thy time didst see,
Upon their paths of proud achievement trod,
And lived thy days, a serious demigod.
Among those grand, heroic forms of old.
Whom didst thou for the best and worthiest hold ?
CHIRON.
Of those beneath the Argonauts' bright banner, Each worthy was in his peculiar manner, And by the virtue of his strength selective Sufficed therein, where others were defective. Castor and Pollux were as victors hailed. Where beauty and the grace of youth prevailed : Decision, the swift deed for others' aid. Gave the fair crown before the Boreads laid : Reflective, prudent, strong, in council wise. So Jason ruled, delight of women's eyes : Then Orpheus, gentle, silent, brooding, lowering, But when he struck the lyre, all-overpowering. Sharp-sighted Lynceus, who by day and dark
ACT IL 119
Through shoreward breakers steered the sacred barL Danger is best endured where men are brothers ; When one achieves, then praise him all the others.
FAUST.
But Hercules thy speech is wronging —
CHIRON.
Ah, me ! awaken not my longing ! . . . I had not seen, in Fields Elysian, How Phoebus, Ards, Hermes, shine ; But there arose before my vision A form that all men called divine. A king by birth, as ne'er another, A youth magnificent to view ; Though subject to his elder brother. And to the loveliest women, too. No second such hath Gaea granted,^* Or Hebe led to Heaven again ; For him the songs are vainly chanted, The marble hewn for him in vain.
FAUST. .
Though ever to his form addicted. His grace the sculptors could not wreak. The fairest Man hast thou depicted. Now of the fairest Woman speak !
CHIRON.
What ! — Little worth is woman's beauty, So oft an image dumb we see : I only praise, in loving duty, A being bright and full of glee. For Beauty in herself delighteth • And irresistibly she smiteth
I20 FAUST.
When sweetly she with Grace uniteth, Like Helena, when her I bore.
FAUST.
Her didst thou bear ?
CHIRON.
This back she pressed,
FAUST.
Was I not wild enough, before ? And now such seat, to make me blest !
CHIRON.
Just so she grasped me by the hair As thou dost.
FAUSt.
O, I scarcely dare To trust my senses ! — tell me more ! She is my only aspiration ! Whence didst thou bear her — to what shore ?
t CHIRON.
Not difficult is the relation.
'T was then, when came the Dioscuri bold
To free their sister from the robbers' hold ;
But these, accustomed not to be subdued.
Regained their courage and in rage pursued.
The swamps below Eleusis did impede
The brothers' and the sister's flying speed :
The brothers waded : splashing through the reed,
I swam : then off she sprang, and pressing me
On the wet mane, caressing me,
She thanked with sweetly-wise and conscious tongue
How charming was she ! — dear to age, so young !
*.
ACT II. 121
FAUST.
But seven years old ! —
CHIRON.
Philologists, I see, Even as they cheat themselves, have cheated thee. 'T is curious with your mythologic dame : ^s The Poet takes her when he needs her name ; She grows not old, stays ever young and warm, And of the most enticing form ; Seduced in youth, in age enamoring still, — Enough ! no time can bind the Poet's will.
FAUST.
Then let no bonds of Time be thrown around her ! Even as on Pheras's isle Achilles found her. Beyond the bounds of Time. What blessing rare, In spite of Fate such love to win and wear ! And shall not I, by mightiest desire, Unto my life that sole fair form acquire, That shape eternal, peer of Gods above. Tender as grand, sublime as sweet with love ? Thou saw'st her once ; to-day I saw her beam, The dream of Beauty, beautiful as Dream ! My soul, my being, now is bound and chained ; I cannot live, unless she be attained.
CHIRON.
Thou, Stranger ! feel'st, as man, such ecstasy ; Among us, Spirits, mad thou seem'st to be. Yet, as it haps, thy fortune now is omened ; For every year, though only for a moment. It is my wont to call at Manto's dwelling, — She, Esculapius' child, whose prayers are swelling Unto her father, that, his fame to brighten, VOL. II. 6
122 FAUST.
The brains of doctors he at last enlighten, And them from rashly dealing death may frighten. I like her best of all the guild of Sibyls, — Helpful and kind, with no fantastic fribbles ; She hath the art, if thou the time canst borrow. With roots of power to give thee healing thorough.
FAUST.
But I will not be healed ! my aim is mighty : I will not be^ like others, meanly flighty !
CHIRON.
The noble fountain's cure neglect thou not : But quick dismount ! We 've reached the spot
FAUST.
And whither, in this dreary night, hast thou To land through pebbly rivers brought me now .'*
CHIRON.
Here Rome and Greece in battle tried their powers ; Here flows Peneus, there Olympus towers, — The greatest realm that e'er was lost in sand. The monarch flies, the conquering burghers stand. Look up and see, in moonlight shining clear. The memorable, eternal Temple near! ^
MANTO '^ {.dreaming within). From horse-hoofs tremble The sacred steps of the Temple ! The Demigods draw near.
CHIRON.
Quite right !
Open your eyes, and see who 's here 1
ACT II. 123
MANTO (awaking). Welcome ! Thou dost not fail, I see.
CHIRON.
And still thy temple stands for thee !
MANTO.
And specdest thou still unremitting ?
CHIRON.
And thou in peaceful calm art sitting, While 1 rejoice in restless heels ?
MANTO.
I wait, and Time around me wheels. And he ?
CHIRON.
The vortex of this night Hath whirled him hither to thy sight. Helen, with mad, distracted senses, Helen he 'd win by all pretences, And knows not how or where the task commences ; But he deserves the Esculapian cure.
MANTO.
To whom the Impossible is lure 1 love.
(Chiron is already far away.) Rash one, advance ! there 's joy for thee ! This dark way leads thee to Persephone. Under Olympus' hollow foot. Secret, she waits prohibited salute. I smuggled Orpheus in to her, of old : Use thy chance better ! On ! — be bold !
[ They descend.
124
FA UST.
III. ON THE UPPER PENEUS, AS BEFORE.
SIRENS.
PLUNGE in cool Peneus' wave ! There 't is well to sport in swimming, Songs with chorded voices hymning, That the ill-starred folk we save. Health is none where water fails ! ^^ Let our hosts, with sounding paean. Hasten to the blue ^gaean, Where each joy shall swell our sails.
{Earthquake.) Back the frothy wave is flowing, Now no longer downward going ; Shakes the bed, the waters roar. Cracks and smokes the stony shore. Let us fly ! Come, every one ! By this marvel profit none. Leave, ye guests, this wild commotion For the cheerful sports of Ocean, Shining, where the quivering reaches. Lightly heaving, bathe the beaches, — There, where Luna's double splendor Freshens us with night-dews tender. There the freest hfe delights us ; Here the threatening Earthquake frights us : Who is prudent, haste away ! Fearful is it, here to stay.
SEISMOS78 [growling and jolting iti the depths). Once again the force applying. Bravely with the shoulders prying.
ACT II.
We to get above are trying, Where to us must all give way.
SPHINXES.
What a most repulsive shaking, Terrible and hideous quaking ! What a quivering and shocking, Hither rolling, thither rocking ! What vexation and dismay ! But we shall not change our station, Were all Hell in agitation. . . . Now behold a dome upswelling, Wonderful ! 'T is he, compelling, — He, the hoary, antiquated. He who Delos' isle created, Bidding it from ocean break, For the childed woman's sake. He, with all his force expended, Rigid arms and shoulders bended, Like an Atlas in his gesture Pushes up the earth's green vesture. Loam and grit, and sand and shingle, Where the shore and river mingle : Thus our valley's bosom quiet Cross-wise tears he, in his riot. In unwearied force defiant. He, a caryatid-giant, Bears a fearful weight of boulders. Buried still below his shoulders ; But no further shall be granted. For the Sphinxes here are planted.79
SEISMOS.
The work alone I 've undertaken ; The credit will be given to me :
125
126 FAUST.
^ Had I not jolted, shoved, and shaken, ) How should this world so beauteous be ? How stood aloft your mountains ever, In pure and splendid blue of air. Had I not heaved with huge endeavor Till they, like pictures, charm you there ? When, where ancestral memory brightens, Old N ight and Chaos saw me sore betrayed, And in the company of Titans With Pelion and Ossa as with balls we played, None could in ardent sport of youth surpass us, Until, outwearied, at the last. Even as a double cap, upon Parnassus His summits wickedly we cast. Apollo, now, upon that mount of wonder Finds with the Muses his retreat : For even Jove, and for his bolts of thunder, I heaved and held the lofty seat. Thus have I forced the fierce resistance And struggled upward from the deep ; And summon now to new existence The joyous dwellers of the steep.
SPHINXES.
'T is true, the hill would seem primeval, And warranted of old to stand. Had we not witnessed its upheaval. Toiling and towering from the land. A bushy forest, spreading, clothes its face. And rocks on rocks are pressing to their place. A Sphinx, therefrom, is by no fear o'ertaken : We shall not let our sacred seats be shaken.
GRIFFINS.^
Gold in spangle, leaf, and spark
ACT II.
Glimmers through the fissures dark. Quick, lest others should detect it, Haste, ye Emmets, and collect it !
CHORUS OF EMMETS.
As they, the giant ones, Upward have thrown it, ^ Quick-footed, pliant ones, *' Climb it and own it ! Rapidly in and out ! In each such fissure Is every crumb about Wealth for the wisher ! Seek for them greedily, Even the slightest : Everywhere speedily Gather the brightest ! Diligent be, and bold — Swarm to the fountain : Only bring in the Gold ! Heed not the Mountain !
GRIFFINS.
Come in ! come in ! — the treasure heap ! Our claws upon it we shall keep. The most efficient bolts they are ; The greatest wealth they safely bar.
PYGMIES.
Verily, here we sit securely ; How it happened, is not clear. Ask not whence we came ; for surely 'T is enough that we are here. Unto Life 's delighted dwelling Suitable is every land ;
127
128 FAUST.
Where a rifted rock is swelling,
Also is the Dwarf at hand.
Male and female, busy, steady.
We as models would suffice :
Who can tell if such already
Labored so in Paradise ?
Here our lot as best we measure.
And our star of fate is blest :
Mother Earth brings forth with pleasure,
In the East as in the West.
DACTYLS.
If she, in a single night. The Pygmies brought to light, Pygmiest of all she '11 create yet, And each find his mate yet !
PYGMY-ELDERS.
Be ye, in haste, Conveniently placed ! Labor, and lead Strength unto speed ! Peace is yet with ye, Build now the smithy, — The host be arrayed With armor and blade ! Emmets, laborious. Working victorious. Scorning to settle. Furnish us metal ! Dactyls, your host. Smallest and most. Hear the requiring. Bring wood for firing ! Heap in the chambers
I
ACT II.
Fuel, untiring : Furnish us embers !
GENERALISSIMO.
With arrow and bow, Encounter the foe ! By yonder tanks The heron-ranks. The countless-nested, The haughty-breasted, At one quick blow Shoot, and bring low ! All together. That we may feather Our helmets so.
EMMETS AND DACTYLS.
Who now will save us ! We bring the iron, And chains enslave us. To break our fetters Were now defiant ; We bide our season, — Meanwhile, be pliant !
THE CRANES OF IBYCUS.^*
Murder-cries and moans of dying ! Startled wings that flap in flying ! What lament, what pain and fright Pierces to our airy height ! All have fallen in the slaughter, Reddening with their blood the water ; Pygmy-lust, misformed and cruel, Robs the heron of his jewel. On their helms the plumage waves, — 6* I
I2g
13© FAUST.
Yonder fat-paunched, bow-legged knaves !
Comrades of our files of motion,
Serried wanderers of ocean,
You we summon to requital
In a cause to you so vital.
Strength and blood let no one spare !
Endless hate to them we swear !
{They disperse, croaking in the air.)
'T MEPHISTOPHELES {on the plain).
Y With ease the Northern witches I controlled, j But o'er these foreign sprites no power I hold. L The Blocksberg is a most convenient place ; Howe'er one strays, one can bis path retrace. Dame Use watches for us from her stone,^^ And Henry sits upon his mountain-throne : The Snorers snarl at Elend — snorting peers, — And all is finished for a thousand years. But here, who knows if, even where he stand, Beneath his feet may not puff up the land ? I cheerily wander through a level glade. And, all at once, behind me heaved, is made A mountain — scarcely to be called so, true ; Yet high enough the Sphinxes from my view To intercept. . . . Still many a fire flares out Adown the vale, the mad concern about. . . . Still dance and hover, beckoning and retreating, The gay groups round me, with their knavish greeting. But gently now ! For, spoiled by stealthy pleasure, One always seeks to snatch some dainty treasure.
LAMI^ ^3
{drawing Mephistopheles after them). Quicker and quicker ! And further take him !
ACT 11. 131
Then hesitating, Chattering and prating ! 'T is fun to make him — Old, sinful Tricker ! — Follow behind us : To penance comes he With halt-foot clumsy ; He marches hobbling, And forwards wobbling ; His leg he trails In haste to find us ; We fly — he fails.
MEPHISTOPHELES {standing still). Accursed fate ! Deceived, as oft ! Since Adam's time seduced and scoffed ! ~^
Though old we grow, not wisely schooled : -^T^ Enough already I 've been fooled ! We know, how wholly worthless is the race, With body corseted and painted face ; Of health responsive own they not a tittle. Where'er one grasps them, every limb is brittle. The thing is known, and patent to our glances. And yet, whene'er the trollops pipe, one dances,
LAMIiE {pausing). Halt ! he reflects ; his steps delay : Turn back to meet him, lest he get away !
MEPHISTOPHELES {striding forwards). Forwards ! the doubt, my strength benumbing, I won't encourage foolishly ; For were the witches not forthcoming. Why, who the devil would Devil be !
132
FAUST.
LAMIiE {very graciously).
Round this hero lightly moving, Let his heart, the choice approving, One of us select for loving !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
True, in this uncertain lustre, Seem ye fair maids, in a cluster ; Fain would I to you be juster.
EMPUSA (^pressing forwards). Not me, too ? I 'm also fitted In your train to be admitted !
LAMIiE.
She 's one too many ; for, in short, She always ruins all our sport.
EMPUSA (to MePHISTOPHELES).
Empusa, with the ass's foot,^'* Thy cousin dear, gives thee salute ! Only a horse's hoof is thine, And yet. Sir Cousin, greeting fine !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Strangers I here anticipated, And find, alas ! my near-related : The old tale — instances by dozens — From Hartz to Hellas always cousins \
EMPUSA.
I act with promptness and decision ; In many forms could meet thy vision : Yet in thy honor now, instead, Have I put on the ass's head.
ACT II. 133
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Great things, I see, are here portended, Thus with the race as kinsman blended : Let come what may, since I have known her — The ass's head — I 'd fain disown her.
LAMIyE.
Leave her, the Ugly ! She doth scare Whatever lovely seems and fair ; Whate'er was lovely, fair to see.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
These cousins also, — soft, delicious, Are one and all to me suspicious : I fear, beneath their cheeks of roses Some metamorphosis reposes.
LAMIiE.
But try — take hold ! For we are many, And if thou hast a lucky penny, Secure thyself the highest prize ! What means thy wanton organ-grinding ? A wretched wooer 't is, we 're finding. Yet swagger'st thus, and seem'st so wise ! Now one of us will he lay hand on. So by degrees your masks abandon. And show your natures to his eyes !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
The fairest here have I selected. . . .
{Clasping her.) O, what a broomstick, unexpected !
{Grasping another.) And this one ? . . . Vilest countenance J
134 FAUST.
LAMIyE.
Think not thou 'rt worth a better chance !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
That little one, she warms my gizzard. . . , But through my hand she slips, a lizard ; Her smooth braids, snaky-like, intwine. I try the tall one, yet she worse is, — I only grasp a Bacchic thyrsus, The head a scaly cone of pine. What follows next ? Behold a fat one : Perhaps I '11 find delight in that one, So, once for all, the chance renew ! The Turks, for one so puffy, flabby, Would pay a price by no means shabby . . . But, ah ! the puff-ball bursts in two !
LAMIiE.
Now scatter widely, hovering, feigning, In lightning-like, dark flight enchaining The interloping witch's-son ! Uncertain circles, awful, poiseless ! Horrid bat-wings, flying noiseless ! He 'scapes too cheaply, when it 's done.
MEPHISTOPHELES [shaking himself). I 've not become, it seems, a great deal shrewder; The North 's absurd, 't is here absurder, ruder, The spectres here preposterous as there. People and poets shallow ware. This masquerade resembles quite — As everywhere — a dance of appetite. I sought a lovely masked procession. And caught such things, I stood aghast. . . .
ACT 11. 135
I 'd give myself a false impression, If this would only longer last.
( Losing himself among the rocks. )
Where am I then ? and whither sped ?
There was a path ; 't is now a dread.
By level ways I 've wandered hither,
Where rubble now is piled together.
I clamber up and down in vain ;
Where shall I find my Sphinx again ?
I had not dreamed so mad a sight, —
A mountain in a single night !
A bold witch-journey, to my thought :
Their Blocksberg with them they have brought.
OREAD {from the natural rock) ?'^ Come up to me ! My mountain old In its primeval form behold ! Revere the steep and rocky stairs, ascending Where Pindus' offshoots with the plain are blending! Unshaken, thus I heaved my head When o'er my shoulders Pompey fled. Beside me this illusive rock Will vanish at the crow of cock. I see such fables oft upthrown. And suddenly again go down.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Honor to thee, thou reverend Head, With strength of oak engarlanded ! The clearest moonlight never cleaves The darkness of your crowded leaves. I see between the bushes go A light, with unpretending glow. How all things fit and balance thus !
136
FAUST.
'T is verily Homunculus.
Now whence thy way, thou little lover ?
HOMUNCULUS.
From place to place I flit and hover,
And, in the best sense, I would fain exist.
And most impatient am, my glass to shatter :
But what till now I 've witnessed, is 't
Then strange if I mistrust the matter ?
Yet I '11 be confidential, if thou Mst :
I follow two Philosophers this way.
'T was " Nature ! " " Nature ! " — all I heard them say;
I '11 cling to them, and see what they are seeing,
For they must understand this eartjily being,
And I shall doubtless learn, in season.
Where to betake me with the soundest reason.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Then do it of thy own accord !
For here, where spectres from their hell come,
Is the philosopher also welcome.
That so his art and favor delectate you.
At once a dozen new ones he '11 create you.
Unless thou errest, thou wilt ne'er have sense ;
Wouldst thou exist, thyself the work commence !
HOMUNCULUS.
Good counsel, also, is not to reject.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Then go thy way ! We further will inspect.
[ They separate
ANAXAGORAS {to ThALES).^
Thy stubborn mind will not be Tightened : What else is needful, that thou be enlightened ?
ACT II.
THALES.
137
To every wind the billows yielding are ;
Yet from the cliff abrupt they keep themselves afar.
ANAXAGORAS.
By fiery vapors rose this rock you 're seeing.
Q
THALES.
In moisture came organic life to being.
L
HOMUNCULUS (between the tivo). To walk with you may I aspire ? To come to being is my keen desire.
ANAXAGORUS.
Hast thou, O Thales ! ever in a night
Brought forth from mud such mountain to the light ?
THALES.
Nature, the living current of her powers, Was never bound to Day and Night and Hours ; She makes each form by rules that never fail. And 't is not Force, even on a mighty scale.^^
ANAXAGORAS.
But here it was ! — Plutonic fire, the shaper ! Explosive force of huge ^Eolian vapor Broke through the level Earth's old crust primeval, And raised the new hill with a swift upheaval !
THALES.
What further shall therefrom result ? The hill Is there : 't is well ! — so let it stand there still ! In such a strife one loses leisure precious, Yet only leads the patient folk in leashes.
138 FAUST.
ANAXAGORAS.
The Mountain's rocky clefts at once Are peopled thick with Myrmidons, With Pygmies, Emmets, Fingerlings, And other active little things.
{To HOMUNCULUS.)
To greatness hast thou ne'er aspired, But lived an eremite retired ; Canst thou persuade thy mind to govern, I '11 have thee chosen as their sovereign.
HOMUNCULUS.
What says my Thales ?
THALES.
— Will not recommend For small means only unto small deeds tend, But great means make the small man great. See there ! The Cranes, with purpose heinous !- The troubled populace they menace. And they would menace thus the king. With pointed beaks and talons ample The little men they pierce and trample : Doom comes already thundering. It was a crime, the heron-slaughter. Beset amid their peaceful water ; But from that rain of arrows deadly A fell revenge arises redly. And calls the kindred o'er the flood To spill the Pygmies' guilty blood. What use for shield and helm and spear .? Or for the dwarfs the heron-feather .? Dactyl and Emmet hide together : Their cohorts scatter, seek the rear !
ACT II. 139
ANAXAGORAS {after a pause ^ solemnly). Though I the subterranean powers approve, Yet help, in this case, must be sought above. . . . O thou aloft, in grace and vigor vernal, Tri-named, tri-featured, and eternal, By all my people's woe I cry to thee, Diana, Luna, Hecatd !
Thou breast-expanding One, thou deeply-pondering, Thou calmly-shining One, majestic wandering, The fearful craters of thy shade unseal. And free from spells thine ancient might reveal ! {Pause.)
Am I too swiftly heard ?
Has then my cry
To yonder sky,
The course of Nature from its orbit stirred ?
And greater, ever greater, drawing near, Behold the Goddess' orb^d throne appear, Enormous, fearful in its grimness, With fires that redden through the dimness ! . . . No nearer ! Disk of dread, tremendous, Lest thou, with land and sea, to ruin send us ! Then were it true, Thessalian Pythonesses ^ With guilty spells, as Song confesses. Once from thy path thy steps enchanted, Till fatal 'gifts by thee were granted ? . . . The shield of splendor slowly darkles. Then suddenly splits, and shines, and sparkles ! What rattling and what hissing follow, With roar of winds and thunders hollow ! — Before thy throne I speak my error. . . . O, pardon ! / invoked the terror.
{Casts himself upon his face.)
140
FA UST.
THALES.
How many things can this man see and hear) What happed, is not to me entirely clear; I 've not, like him, experienced it. The Hours are crazy, we '11 admit ; For Luna calmly shines, and free, In her high place, as formerly.
HOMUNCULUS.
Look yonder where the Pygmies fled !
The round Hill has a pointed head.
I felt a huge rebound and shock ;
Down from the moon had fallen the rock.
And then, without the least ado.
Both foe and friend it smashed and slew.
I praise such arts as these, that show
Creation in a night fulfilled ;
That from above and from below
At once this mountain-pile could build.
THALES.
Be still ! 'T was but imagined so.
Farewell, then, to the ugly brood !
That thou wast not their king, is good.
Off to the cheerful festals of the Sea !
There as a marvellous guest, they '11 honor thee.
[ They depart
MEPHISTOPHELES {climbing up the opposite side). Here must I climb by steep and rocky stairways, And roots of ancient oaks — the vilest rare ways ! Upon my Hartz, the resinous atmosphere Gives hint of pitch, to me almost as dear As sulphur is, — but here, among these Greeks,
ACT II.
141
For such a smell one long and vainly seeks ;
And curious am I — for 't is worth the knowing —
To find wherewith they keep their fires of Hell a-going.
DRYAD.
At home, be wise as it befits thee there ;
Abroad, thou hast no cleverness to spare.
Thou shouldst not homeward turn thy mind, but here
The honor of the ancient oaks revere.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
One thinks on all relinquished there ; Use made it Paradise, and keeps it fair. But say, what is 't, in yonder cave Obscure, a crouching triple-shape resembling ?
^ ^^A^l4(,.M^«^ DRYAD.
\ The Phorky ads JJ9 Go there, if thou art brave ; Address them, it thou canst, untrembling !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Why not ! . . I something see, and am dumbfounded ! Proud as I am, I must confess the truth : I 've never seen their like, in sooth, — •
Worse than our hags, an Ugliness unbounded ! How can the Deadly Sins then ever be Found ugly in the least degree. When one this triple dread shall see ? We would not suffer them to dwell Even at the dreariest door of Hell ; But here, in Beauty's land, the Greek, They 're famed, because they 're called antique. . . . They stir, they seem to scent my coming ; Like vampire-bats, they 're squeaking, twittering, hum- ming.
142
FAUST.
THE PHORKYADS.
Give me the eye, my sisters, that it spy Who to our temple ventures now so nigh.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Most honored Dame ! Approaching, by your leave,
Grant that your triple blessing I receive.
I come, though still unknown, yet, be it stated,
If I mistake not, distantly related.
Old, reverend Gods, already did I see ;
To Ops and Rhea have I bowed the knee ;
The Parc£e even — your sisters — yesterday,
Or day before, they came across my way ;
And yet the Hke of you ne'er met my sight :
Silent am I, and ravished with delight.
THE PHORKYADS.
This spirit seems to have intelhgence.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
I am amazed no poet has the sense
To sing your praises, — say, how can it be
That we »o pictures of your beauty see ?
Should not, through you, the chisel strive to wean us
From shapes like those of Juno, Pallas, Venus ?
THE PHORKYADS.
Sunken in solitude and stillest night, The mind of us ne'er took so far a flight.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
How should it, then .? since here, concealed from view,
None ever see you, none are seen by you !
But choose those dwelling-places, and be known.
ACT II. 143
Where Art and Splendor share an equal throne ; Where swift, with double tread, day after day, A marble block as hero walks away ; Where —
THE PHORKYADS.
Cease, and rouse in us no longer vision ! What profit, if we knew them with precision ? — We, born in night, akin to glbom alone. Unto ourselves almost, to others quite, unknown.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
In such a case there 's little more to say.
But one one's self to others can convey.
One eye supplies you three, one tooth as well,
So were it mythologically possible
In two the being of the Three to cover.
And unto me the third fair form make over,
A short time, only.
ONE.
Will it do, forsooth ?
THE OTHERS.
We '11 try it ! — but without or eye or tooth.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Now just the best thing have you taken away. How shall I then the image stern display }
ONE.
T is easily done : just close one eye. And let thy one side-tusk be seen thereby : In profile, thus, with not a trait diminished, Thy sisterly resemblance will be finished.
144 FAUST.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
So be it, then !
THE PHORKYADS.
So be iti
MEPHISTOPHELES \as Phorkyad in profile).
Me behold, The much-beloved son of Chaos old !
THE PHORKYADS.
Daughters of Chaos are we, by good right.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
vL^ I Disgrace ! They '11 call me now hermaphrodite.
THE PHORKYADS.
/ ^In our new sister-triad what a beauty !
Two eyes have we, two teeth, for further duty.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
X
I Now from all eyes I '11 hide this visage fell,
I To fright the devils in the pool of Hell.
\^ lExit
ACT II. 145
IV.
ROCKY COVES OF THE ^GEAN SEA.9*
The Moon delaying in the Zenith.
SIRENS {couched upon the cliffs around, fluting a?id singing). np HOUGH erewhile, by spells nocturnal, -*- Thee Thessalian hags infernal Downward drew, with guilt intended, — Look, from where thine arch is bended. On the multitudinous, splendid Twinkles of the billowy Ocean ! Shine upon the throngs in motion O'er the waters, wild and free ! To thy service vowed are we : Fairest Luna, gracious be ! ,
NEREIDS AND TRITONS (as Wonders of the Sea). Call with clearer, louder singing, Through the Sea's broad bosom ringing, Call the tenants of the Deep ! When the storm swept unimpeded We to stillest depths receded ; Forth at sound of song we leap. See ! delighted and elated, We ourselves have decorated. With our golden crowns have crowned us. With our spangled girdles bound us. Chains and jewels hung around us ! All are spoils which you purvey ! VOL. II. 7 J
146 ^A UST.
Treasures, here in shipwreck swallowed, You have lured, and we have followed You, the Daemons of our bay.
SIRENS.
In the crystal cool, delicious. Smoothly sport the happy fishes, Pliant lives that nothing mar ; Yet, ye festive crowds that gather, We, to-day, would witness, rather, That ye more than fishes are.
NEREIDS AND TRITONS.
We, before we hither wandered, Thoroughly the question pondered : Sisters, Brothers, speed afar ! Briefest travel, light endurance, Yield the validest assurance That we more than fishes are.
[ They depart.
SIRENS.
Off ! they have left the place,
Steering away to Samothrace,^'
Vanished with favoring wind.
What is their purpose there, in the dreary
Domain of the lofty Cabiri ?
Gods are they, but the strangest crew,
Ever begetting themselves anew.
And unto their own being bhnd.
In thy meridian stay, Luna ! — graciously delay. That the Night still embrace us, And the Day not chase us !
ACT II.
THALES {on the shore, to HoMUNCULUS). I fain would lead thee unto Nereus old. Not distant are we from his cavern cold, But stubbornness is his delight, The peevish and repulsive wight. Howe'er the human race has tried, The Grumbler 's never satisfied : Yet he the Future hath unsealed. And men thereto their reverence yield, And give him honor in his station. Many his benefits have tasted.
HOMUNCULUS.
Then let us- try, without more hesitation !
My glass and flame will not at once be wasted.
NEREUS.
Are human voices those that reach mine ear ? At once my wrath is kindled, keen and clear. Aspiring forms, that high as Gods would ramble. Yet ever damned their own selves to resemble. In ancient years could I divinely rest, Yet was impelled to benefit the Best ; And when, at last, I saw my deeds completed. It fully seemed as were the work defeated.
THALES.
And yet we trust thee, Graybeard of the Sea ! Thou art the Wise One : drive us not from thee ! Behold this Flame, in man's similitude : It yields itself unto thy counsel good.
NEREUS.
What ! Counsel ? When did ever men esteem it 1
147
,48 FAUST.
Wise words in hard ears are but lifeless lore.
Oft as the Act may smite them when they scheme it,
The People are as self-willed as before.
How warned I Paris, in paternal trust,
Before a foreign woman woke his lust !
Upon the Grecian strand he stood so bold ;
I saw in spirit, and to him foretold
The smoky winds, the overwhelming woe,
Beams all a-blaze, murder and death below, —
Troy's judgment-day, held fast in lofty rhyme,
A terror through a thousand years of time !
My words seemed sport unto the reckless one :
His lust he followed : fallen was Ilion, —
A giant carcass, stiff, and hacked with steel,
To Pindus' eagles 't was a welcome meal.
Ulysses, too ! did I not him presage
The wiles of Circe and the Cyclops' rage ?
His paltering mind, his crew's inconstant strain,
And what not all ? — and did it bring him gain ?
Till him, though late, the favoring billow bore,
A much-tossed wanderer, to the friendly shore.
THALES.
Such conduct, truly, gives the wise man pain, And yet the good man once will try again. An ounce of gratitude, his help repaying, Tons of ingratitude he sees outweighing. And nothing trifling now we beg of thee ; The boy here wishes to be born, and be.
NEREUS.
Let not my rarest mood be spoiled, I pray ! Far other business waits for me to-day. I 've hither bidden, by the wave and breeze, The Graces of the Sea, the Dorides.^'
ACT IL 149
Olympus bears not, nor your lucenfarch,
Such lovely forms, in such a lightsome march :
They fling themselves, in wild and wanton dalUance,
From the sea-dragons upon Neptune's stallions,
Blent with the element so freely, brightly.
That even the foam appears to lift them lightly.
In Venus' chariot-shell, with hues of morn.
Comes Galatea, now the fairest, borne ;
Who, since that Cypris turned from us her face.
In Paphos reigns as goddess in her place.
Thus she, our loveliest, long since came to own.
As heiress, templed town and chariot-throne.
Away ! the father's hour of rapture clips
Hate from the heart, and harshness from the lips.
Away to Proteus ! Ask that wondrous man
Of Being's and of Transformation's plan !
\He retires towards the sea.
THALES.
We, by this step, gain nothing : one may meet Proteus, and straight he melts, dissolving fleet. Though he remain, he only says That which confuses and astonishes. However, of such counsel thou hast need ; So, at a venture, let us thither speed !
\They depart.
SIRENS [on the rocks above). What is 't, that, far advancing. Glides o'er the billows dancing ? As, when the winds are shifted, Shine snowy sails, uplifted. So shine they o'er the waters. Transfigured Ocean-daughters. We '11 clamber down, and, near them, Behold their forms, and hear them.
150
FA UST. NEREIDS AND TRITONS.
What in our hands we bear you Much comfort shall prepare you. Chelone's buckler giant Shines with its forms defiant : — They 're Gods that we are bringing : High songs must you be singing !
SIRENS.
Small to the sight, Great in their might, — Saviours of the stranded, Ancient Gods, and banded.
NEREIDS AND TRITONS.
We bring you the Cabiri To f estals calm and cheery ; For where their sway extendeth Neptune the realm befriendeth.
SIRENS.
We yield to your claim ; When a shipwreck came, Irresistibly you Protected the crew.
— ' NEREIDS AND TRITONS.
Three haye we brought hither,93 The fourth refused us altogether : He was the right one, said he, — Their only thinker ready.
SIRENS.
One God the other God Smites with the scoffer's rod : Honor all grace they bring, Fear all evil they fling !
ACT II. 151
NEREIDS AND TRITONS.
Seven are they, really.
SIRENS.
Where, then, stay the other three ?
NEREIDS AND TRITONS.
The truth we cannot gather : Ask on Olympus, rather ! There pines the eighth, forgotten, By no one ever thought on ! In grace to us entreated, But not yet all completed.
These incomparable, unchainable,'-* Are always further yearning. With desire and hunger burning For the Unattainable !
SIRENS.
These are our ways : The God that sways Sun, Moon, or other blaze, We worship : for it pays.
NEREIDS AND TRITONS.
Highest glory for us behold, Leading these festals cheery !
SIRENS.
The heroes of the ancient time
Fail of their glory's prime.
Where and howe'er it may unfold ;
Though they have won the Fleece of Gold, —
Ye, the Cabiri !
1^2 FAUST.
{^Repeated as full chorus. ) Though they have won the Fleece of Gold, — We ! Ye ! the Cabiri !
( The Nereids and Tritons move past.)
HOMUNCULUS.
These Malformations, every one, Had earthen pots for models : ^s Against them now the wise men run, And break their stubborn noddles.
THALES.
That is the thing one wishes, just ! The coin takes value from its rust.
PROTEUS [unperceived). This pleases me, the old fable-ranger ! The more respectable, the stranger.
THALES.
Where art thou, Proteus ?
PROTEUS
{speaking ventriloquallyy now near, now at a distance). Here ! and here !
THALES.
I pardon thee thine ancient jeer.
Cheat not a friend with vain oration :
Thou speak'st, I know, from a delusive station.
PROTEUS [as if at a distance). Farewell !
THALES [softly to HOMUNCULUS).
He is quite near : shine brilliantly ! For curious as a fish is he ;
ACT 11. 153
And in whatever form he hide,
A flame will make him hither glide.
HOMUNCULUS.
At once a flood of light I '11 fling,
Yet softly, lest the glass should spring.
PROTEUS
{in the form of a giant tortoise). What shines so fair, so graciously ?
THALES {covering Homunculus). Good ! If thou wishest, canst thou nearer see. Be not annoyed to take a little trouble, And show thyself on man's foundation double. What we disclose, to whomsoe'er would see it, With our will only, by our favor, be it !
PROTEUS {in a noble form).
Still world-wise pranks thou failest to forget.
THALES.
To change thy form remains thy pleasure yet. {He uncovers Homunculus.)
PROTEUS {astonished). A shining dwarf ! The like I ne'er did see !
THALES.
He asks thy counsel, he desires to be. He is, as I myself have heard him say, (The thing 's a marvel ! ) only born half-way. He has no lack of quahties ideal, But far too much of palpable and real.^*^ Till now the glass alone has given him weight. And he would fain be soon incorporate. 7*
154
FA UST.
PROTEUS.
Thou art a genuine virgin's-son : Finished, ere thou shouldst be begun !
THALES {whispering). Viewed from another side, the thing seems critical ; He is, methinks, hermaphroditical !
PROTEUS.
Then all the sooner 't will succeed :
Let him but start, 't will be arranged with speed.
No need to ponder here his origin ;
On the broad ocean's breast must thou begin !
One starts there first within a narrow pale,97
And finds, destroying lower forms, enjoyment :
Little by little, then, one climbs the scale,
And fits himself for loftier employment.
HOMUNCULUS.
Here breathes and blows a tender air ; And I delight me in the fragrance rare.
PROTEUS.
Yea, verily, my loveliest stripling!
And farther on, far more enjoyable.
Around yon narrow spit the waves are rippling,
The halo bright and undestroyable !
There to the host we '11 nearer be.
Now floating hither o'er the sea.
Come with me there !
THALES.
I '11 go along.
HOMUNCULUS.
A spirit-purpose, triply strong !
\
ACT II. 155
V. TELCHINES OF RHODES.98
On Sea-Horses and Sea-Dragons y wielding Neptune's Trident.
CHORUS. "1 1 TE 've forged for old Neptune the trident that urges '^ * To smoothness and peace the refractory surges When Jove tears the clouds of the tempest asunder, 'T is Neptune encounters the roll of the thunder: The lightnings above may incessantly glow, But wave upon wave dashes up from below, And all that, between them, the terrors o'erpower, Long tossed and tormented, the Deep shall devour ; And thence he hath lent us his sceptre to-day. — Now float We contented, in festal array.
SIRENS.
You, to Helios consecrated. To the bright Day's blessing fated, — You to this high Hour we hail : Luna's worship shall prevail !
TELCHINES.
O loveliest Goddess by night over-vaulted! Thou hearest with rapture thy brother exalted : To listen to Rhodes thou wilt lean from the skies ; To him, there, the paeans eternally rise. When the day he begins, when he ends its career. His beam is the brightest that falls on us here. The mountains, the cities, the sea and the shore. Are lovely and bright to the God they adore :
ii^
156 FAUST.
No mist hovers o'er us, and should one appear, A beam and a breeze, and the Island is clear ! There Phoebus his form may by hundreds behold, Colossal, as youth, as the Gentle, the Bold ; For we were the first whose devotion began To shape the high Gods in the image of Man. .
PROTEUS.
But leave them to their boasting, singing !
Beside the holy sunbeams, bringing
All life, their dead works are a jest.
They melt and cast, with zeal impassioned,
And what they once in bronze have fashioned.
They think it 's something of the best.
These proud ones are at last made lowly :
The forms of Gods, that stood and shone^
Were by an earthquake overthrown.
And long since have been melted wholly.
This earthly toil, whate'er it be,
Is never else than drudgery :
A better life the waves declare thee.
And now to endless seas shall bear thee
Proteus-Dolphin.
{He transforms himself. )
'T is done ! Behold ! Unto thy fairest fortune waken : Upon my back shalt thou be taken, And wedded to the Ocean old.
THALES.
Yield to the wish so wisely stated. And at the source be thou created ! Be ready for the rapid plan ! There, by eternal canons wending,
ACT II. 1^7
Through thousand, myriad forms ascending, Thou shalt attain, in time, to Man.
(HOMUNCULUS mounts the Proteus -Dolphin.)
PROTEUS. In spirit seek the watery distance ! Boundless shall there be thine existence, And where to move, thy will be free. But struggle not to higher orders ! Once Man, within the human borders, Then all is at an end for thee.
THALES.
That 's as it haps : 't is no ill fate
In one's own day to be true man and great.
PROTEUS {to Thales).
Some one, perchance, of thine own kind !
Their lives continue long, I find ;
For with thy palHd phantom-peers
I 've seen thee now for many hundred years.
SIRENS [on the rocks).
See ! what rings of cloudlets, gliding Round the moon, in circles play ! They are doves whom Love is guiding, With their wings as white as day. Paphos hither sends them fleetly, All her ardent birds, to us. And our festival completely Crowns with purest rapture, thus !
NEREUS [advancing to Thales). Though some nightly wanderer's vision Deem yon ring an airy spectre.
158
FAUSr.
We, the spirits, with decision Entertain a view correcter : They are doves, whose convoy gathers Round my daughter's chariot-shell, With a flight of wondrous spell. Learned in old days of the fathers.
THALES.
That I also think is best,99 Which the true man comfort gives, When in warm and peaceful nest Something holy for him lives.
PSYLLI AND MARSI^°° (on sea-hulls^ sea-heifers and sea-rams). In hollow caves on Cyprus' shore. By the Sea-God still unbattered. Not yet by Seismos shattered, By eternal winds breathed o'er, And still, as in days that are measured. Contented and silently pleasured. The chariot of Cypris we 've treasured. By the murmurs, the nightly vibrations. O'er the waves and their sweetest pulsations, Unseen to the new generations. The lovehest daughter we lead. We fear not, as lightly we hie on. Either Eagle or wing-lifted Lion, Either Crescent or Cross, Though the sky it emboss, — Though it changefully triumphs and flashes, In defeat to forgetfulness dashes, Lays the fields and the cities in ashes ! Straightway, with speed. The loveliest of mistresses forth we lead.
ACT II. SIRENS.
Lightly moved, with paces graver, Circle round the car again ; Line on line inwoven, waver Snake-like in a linking chain, — Stalwart Nereids, come, enring us, Rudest women, wild and free ; Tender Dorides, ye bring us Her, the Mother of the Sea, — Galatea, godlike woman, Worthiest immortality, Yet, like those of lineage human, Sweet with loving grace is she.
DORIDES
(m chorus, mounted on dolphins, passing Nereus). Lend us, Luna, light and shadow. Show this youthful flower and fi»e ! For we bring beloved spouses, Praying for them to our sire.
(7<7 Nereus.)
They are boys, whom we have rescued From the breaker's teeth of dread ; They, on reeds and mosses bedded, Back to light and life we led : Now must they, with glowing kisses, Thank us for the granted blisses ; On the youths thy favor shed !
NEREUS.
Lo, now ! what double gains your deed requite ! You show compassion, and you take delight.
159
l6o FAUST.
DORIDES.
If thou praisest our endeavor, Father, grant the fond request, — ^ Let us hold them fast forever On each young, immortal breast.
NEREUS.
Take joy in what you 've finely captured,
And shape to men the youthful crew ;
I cannot grant the boon enraptured
Which only Zeus can give to you.
The billows, as they heave and rock you.
Allow to love no firmer stand.
So, when these fancies fade and mock you.
Send quietly the youths to land.
DORIDES.
Fair boys, we must part, forsooth ; *Vet we love you, we vow it ! We have asked for eternal truth, But the Gods will not allow it.
THE YOUTHS.
We sailor-boy^ if still you would Give love, as first you gave it. We 've never had a life so good. And would not better have it !
(Galatea approaches on her chariot of shell.) "»
NEREUS.
'T is thou, O my darling !
GALATEA.
O, Sire ! what delight ! Linger, ye dolphins ! I cling to the sight.
ACT II. i6]
NEREUS.
Already past, they swiftly wander
On, in circling courses wheeling !
What care they for the heart's profoundest feeling ?
Ah, would they took me with them yonder !
Yet a single glance can cheer
All the livelong barren year.
THALES. ^
Hail ! All hail ! with newer voices :
How my spirit rejoices.
By the True and the Beautiful penetrated !
From Water was everything first created !
Water doth everything still sustain !
Ocean, grant us thine endless reign !
If the clouds thou wert sending not,
The swelling streams wert spending not,
The winding rivers bending not,
And all in thee were ending not,
Could mountains, and plains, and the world itself, be ?
The freshest existence is nourished by thee !
ECHO {chorus of the collective circles). The freshest existence flows ever from thee !
NEREUS.
They turn and wheel again, afar ; No longer face to face they are. In linking circles, wide extending, — In their festive dances blending, — The countless cohorts now appear. But Galatea's chariot-shell Still I see, and see it well :
1 62 FAUST.
It shines like a star
Through the crowds intwining.
Love from the tumult still is shining !
Though ne'er so far,
It shimmers bright and clear,
Ever true and near.
HOMUNCULUS.
This softly heaving brine on, Whatever I may shine on Is all with beauty crowned.
PROTEUS.
Within this moisture living, Thy lamp now first is giving A clear and splendid sound.
NEREUS.
What mystery new, 'mid the crowds that are wheeling.
Is now to our vision its wonders reveahng?
What flames round the shell at the feet of the Queen .? —
Now flaring in force, and now shining serene.
As if by the pulses of love it were fed.
THALES.
Homunculus is it, by Proteus misled ! . . . And these are the signs of imperious yearning. The presage of swelling, impatiently spurning : He '41 shiver his glass on the glittering throne — He glows and he flashes, and now he hath flown !
SIRENS.
What fiery marvel the billows enlightens,'"^ As one on the other is broken and brigrhtens ?
:. ACT JI. 163
It fliishes, and wavers, and hitherward plays ! On the path of the Night are the bodies ablaze, And all things around are with flames overrun : Then Eros be ruler, who all things begun !
Hail, ye Waves ! Hail, Sea unbounded,
By the holy Fire surrounded !
Water, hail ! Hail, Fire, the splendid! "
Hail, Adventure rarely ended !
ALL TOGETHER.
Hail, ye Airs that softly flow ! Hail, ye caves of Earth below ! / a Honored now and evermore \ ^
Be the Elemental Four !
4 'P
1 64 FAUST.
ACT III
BEFORE THE PALACE OF MENELAUS IN SPARTA.
Helena enters, with the Chorus of Captive Trojan Women, Panthalis, Leader of the Chorus.
HELENA.'°3
I MUCH admired and much reviled, — I, Helena, , Come from the strand where we have disembarked but now. Still giddy from the restless rocking of the waves Of Ocean, which from Phrygian uplands hitherwards On high, opposing backs — Poseidon's favor won And Euros' strength — have borne us to our native bay. Below there, with the bravest of his warriors, now King Menelaus feels the joy of his return; But thou, O bid me welcome back, thou lofty House Which Tyndarus, my father, on the gentle slope. Returning from the Hill of Pallas, builded up ; And when I here with Clytemnestra sister-like, With Castor and with Pollux gayly sporting, grew, Before all Sparta's houses nobly was adorned. Ye valves of yon dark iron portals, ye I hail ! Once through your festive and inviting opening It happened that to me, from many singled out. The coming of the bridegroom Menelaus shone. Unfold again for me, that I the King's command
ACT III. 165
Fulfil with strictness, as unto a spouse is meet : Give entrance now, and let all things be left behind Which hitherto have stormed upon me, full of doom ! For, since this place all unsuspicious I forsook For Cytheraea's fane, as holy duty called, But there the robber seized me, he the Phrygian, — Happened have many things, which people far and wide So fain relate, but which so fain hears not the one Of whom the legend rose, and to a fable grew.
CHORUS.
Disdain thou not, O beautiful Dame, Possession proud of the highest estate ! For the greatest fortune is thine alone, The fame of beauty that towers o'er all. The name of the hero heralds his path, Thence proudly he strides ; Yet bends at once the stubbornest man. And yields to all-conquering Beauty's might.
HELENA.
Enough, with mine own spouse have I been hither
shipped. And now by him beforehand to his city sent; Yet what his purposes may be, I fail to guess. Do I come here as wife ? Or do I come as queen ? Or come, an offering for the Prince's bitter pain. And for the long-endured misfortune of the Greeks ? For they, the Immortals, verily fixed my Fame and Fate Ambiguously, attendants twain of doubtful worth To Beauty, who upon this very threshold stand With gloomy and with threatening presence at my side. Then, even, in the hollow ship, but seldom looked My spouse on me, nor ever word of comfort spake :
1 66 FAUST.
As if he brooded evil, fronting me he sat.
But now, when speeding towards the strand of that deep
cove Eurotas makes, scarce had the foremost vessels' prows The land saluted, than he spake, as urged the Gods : " Here, in their ordered rank, my warriors disembark •, Them shall I muster, ranged along the ocean-strand. But thou go ever onwards, up the hallowed banks Of fair Eurotas, dowered with gifts of plenteous fruit, Guiding the stallions o'er the bloom of watery meads, Till there, on that most lovely plain thy journey ends. Where Lacedemon, once a fruitful spreading field, Surrounded by austerest mountains, built its seat. Set thou thy foot within the high-towered princely House, And muster well the maids, whom there behind I left, Together with the old and faithful Stewardess. Let her display to thee the wealth of treasures stored, Even as thy father them bequeathed, and I myself, In war and peace accumulating, have amassed. All things shalt thou in ancient order find : because It is the Ruler's privilege, that he all things In faithful keeping find, returning to his house, — Where'er he may have left it, each thing in its place ; For power to change in aught possesses not the slave."
CHORUS.
Let now the splendid, accumulate wealth
Rejoice and cheer thee, in eye and heart !
For the gleam of chain and the glory of crown
Are lying idly in haughty repose :
But enter thou in and challenge them all,
And they will respond.
I rejoice to witness Beauty compete
With gold and pearl and the jewel-stone.
ACT III. 167
HELENA.
Thereafter further came my lord's imperious speech :
" Now when all things in order thou inspected hast,
Then take so many tripods as thou needful deem'st,
And vessels manifold, such as desires at hand
Who offers to the Gods, fulfilling holy use, —
The kettles, also bowls, the shallow basin's disk ;
The purest water from the sacred fountain fill
In lofty urns ; and further, also ready hold
The well-dried wood that rapidly accepts the flame ;
And let the knife, well-sharpened, fail not finally ;
Yet all besides will I relinquish to thy care."
So spake he, urging my departure ; but no thing
Of living breath did he, who ordered thus, appoint,
That shall, to honor the Olympian Gods, be slain.
'T is critical ; and yet I banish further care.
And let all things be now to the high Gods referred.
Who that fulfil, whereto their minds may be disposed, /
Whether by men 't is counted good, or whether bad ;
In either case we mortals, we are doomed to bear.
Already lifted oft the Offerer the axe
In consecration o'er the bowed neck of the beast,
And could not consummate the act ; for enemies
Approaching, or Gods intervening, hindered him.
CHORUS.
What shall happen, imagin'st thou not.
Queen, go forwards
With courage !
Blessing and evil come
Unexpected to men :
Though announced, yet we do not believe.
Burned not Ilion, saw we not also
Death in the face, shamefullest death ?
And are we not here.
1 68 FAUST.
With thee companioned, joyously serving, Seeing the dazzHng sun in the heavens, • And the fairest of earth, too, — Kindest one, thee, — we, the happy ?
HELENA.
Let come, what may ! Whate'er awaits me, it beseems That I without delay go up in the Royal House, Which, long my need and yearning, forfeited almost. Once more hath risen on my sight, I know not how. My feet no longer bear me with such fearlessness Up the high steps, which as a child I sprang across.
CH0RU5.
Cast ye, O sisters ! ye
Sorrowful captives,
All your trouble far from ye !
Your mistress's joy partake,
Helena's joy partake.
Who the paternal hearth
Delightedly now is approaching.
Truly with late-returning
But with firmer and surer feet !
Praise ye the sacredest. Still re-establishing And home-bringing Immortals ! How the delivered one Soars as on lifted wings Over asperities, while in vain The prisoned one, yearningly, Over the fortress-parapet Pineth with outspread arms !
But a God took hold of her, The Expatriate,
I
ACT III. 169
And from I lion's ruins
Hither hath borne her again,
To the ancient, the newly embellished
Paternal house,
From unspeakable
Raptures and torments,
Early youthful days.
Now refreshed, to remember.
PANTHALIS (as LEADER OF THE CHORUS).
Forsake ye now the joy-encompassed path of Song, And towards the portal's open valves your glances turn ! What, Sisters, do I see ? Returneth not the Queen With swift and agitated step again to us ? What is it now, great Queen, what could encounter thee To move and shake thee so, within thy house's halls. Instead of greeting? Thou canst not conceal the thing; For strong repulsion written on thy brow I see. And noble indignation, struggling with amaze.
HELENA
(who has left the wings of the portal open, excitedly).
A common fear beseemeth not the child of Zeus ; No lightly-passing hand of terror touches her ; But that fell Horror, which the womb of ancient Night With first of things delivered, rolled through many forms, Like glowing clouds that from the mountain's fiery throat Whirl up expanding, even heroes' breasts may shake. Thus terribly have here to-day the Stygian Gods Mine entrance in the house betokened, and I fain. Even as a guest dismissed, would take myself away From this oft-trodden threshold I so longed to tread. But, no ! hither have I retreated to the light ; Nor further shall ye force me, Powers, be who ye may .' VOL. n. 8
lyo
FAUST.
Some consecration will I muse : then, purified,
The hearth-fire may the wife so welcome, as the lord.
LEADER OF THE CHORUS.
Discover, noble Dame, unto thy servants here, Who reverently assist thee, what hath come to pass.
HELENA.
What I beheld, shall ye with your own eyes behold. If now that shape the ancient Night hath not at once Re-swallowed to the wonders of her deepest breast. But I with words will yet declare it, that ye know. When solemnly, my nearest duty borne in mind, The Royal House's gloomy inner court I trod. Amazed I saw the silent, dreary corridors. No sound of diligent labor, going forwards, met The ear, no signs of prompt and busy haste the eye ; And not a maid appeared to me, no stewardess Such as is wont to greet the stranger, friendly-wise. But when towards the ample hearth-stone I advanced, I saw, beside the glimmering ashes that remained, A veiled and giant woman seated on the ground, Not like to one who sleeps, but one deep-sunk in thought With words of stern command I summoned her to work, The stewardess surmising, who n^eanwhile, perchance. My spouse with forethought there had stationed when
he left ; But she, still crouched together, sat immovable. Stirred by my threats at last, she lifted the right arm As if from hearth and hall she beckoned me away. I turned indignantly from her, and swiftly sped . Unto the steps whereon aloft the Thalamos Adorned is set, and near thereto the treasure-room : But suddenly from the floor the wondrous figure sprang, Barring my way imperiously, and showed herself
ACT III.
::.'S^fr'
In haggard height, with hollow, blood-discolored eyes, A shape so strange that eye and mind confounded are. But to the winds I speak : for all in vain doth Speech Fatigue itself, creatively to build up forms. There look, yourselves ! She even ventures forth to light ! Here are we masters, till the lord and king shall come. The horrid births of Night doth Phoebus, Beauty's friend, Drive out of sight to caverns, or he binds them fast. (Phorkyas appears on the threshold, between the door-posts.)
CHORUS.'"'^ Much my experience, although the tresses, Youthfully clustering, wave on my temples ; Many the terrible things I have witnessed, Warriors lamenting, I lion's night. When it fell.
Through the beclouded, dusty and maddened
Throngs of the combatants, heard I the Gods then
Terribly calling, heard I the iron
Accents of Discord clang through the field,
City-wards.
Ah, yet stood they, I lion's Ramparts ; but ever the fiery glow Ran from neighbor to neighbor walls. Ever extending from here and there, With the roar of its own storm. Over the darkening city.
Flying saw I, through smoke and flame. And the tongues of the blinding fire. Fearful angering presence of Gods, Stalking marvellous figures, Giant-great, through the gloomy Fire-illuminate vapors.
172
FAUST.
Saw I, or was it but Dread of the mind, that fashioned Forms so affrighting? Never can Justly I say it? Yet that I Her, Horrible, here with eyes behold, Is to me known and certain : Even to my hand were palpable, Did not the terror restrain me. Holding me back from the danger.
Which one of Phorkys' Daughters then art thou ? Since I compare thee Unto that family.
Art thou, perchance, of the Graiae, One of the dreaded gray-born, One eye and tooth only Owning alternately ?
Darest thou. Monster,
Here beside Beauty,
Unto high Phoebus'
Vision display thee ?
Step thou forth, notwithstanding !
For the Ugly beholds he not.
Even as his hallowed glances
Never beheld the shadow.
Yet a sorrowful adverse fate,
Us mortals compelleth, alas !
To endure the unspeakable eye-pain
Which She, the accurst, reprehensible,
Provokes in the lovers of Beauty.
Yes, then hearken, if thou brazenly Us shalt encounter, hear the curse, —
AC7 III. 173
Hear the threat of every abuse
From the denouncing mouths of the Fortunate,
Whom the Gods themselves have fashioned !
PHORKYAS.^°S
Old is the saw, and yet its sense is high and true, That Shame and Beauty ne'er together, hand in hand, Pursued their way across the green domains of Earth. Deep-rooted dwells in both such force of ancient hate. That wheresoever on their way one haps to meet The other, each upon her rival turns her back : Then forth again vehemently they hasten on. Shame deep depressed, but Beauty insolent and bold, Till her at last the hollow night of Orcus takes. If Age hath not beforehand fully tamed her pride. So now I find ye, shameless ones, come from abroad With arrogance o'erflowing, as a file of cranes That with their hoarse, far-sounding clangor high in air, A cloudy line, slow-moving, send their creaking tones Below, the lone, belated wanderer to allure That he look up ; but, notwithstanding, go their way. And he goes his : and likewise will it be, with us. Who, then, are you, that round the Royal Palace high Like Maenads wild, or like Bacchantes, dare to rave ? Who, then, are you, that you the House's stewardess Assail and howl at, as the breed of dogs the moon 1 Think ye from me 't is hidden, of what race ye are 1 Ye brood, in war begotten and in battle bred. Lustful of man, seducing no less than seduced. Emasculating soldiers', burghers' strength alike ! Methinks, to see your cro^yd, a thick cicada-swarm Hath settled on us, covering the green-sown fields. Devourers ye of others' toil ! Ye snatch and taste, Destroying in its bud the land's prosperity ! Wares are ye, plundered, bartered, and in market sold !
^
174
FA UST.
HELENA.
Who rates the servant-maids in presence of the Dame Audaciously invades the Mistress' household-right : Her only It becometh to commend'what is Praiseworthy, as to punish what is blamable. Content, moreover, am I with the service which They gave me, when the lofty strength of I lion Beleaguered stood, and fell in ruin : none the less When we the sorrowful and devious hardships bore Of errant travel, where each thinks but of himself. Here, too, the like from this gay throng do I expect : Not what the slave is, asks the lord, but how he serves. Therefore be silent, cease to grin and jeer at them ! If thou the Palace hitherto hast guarded well In place of Mistress, so much to thy credit stands ; But now that she herself hath come, shouldst thou retire Lest punishment, in place of pay deserved, befall !
PHORKYAS.
To threaten the domestics is a right assured,
Which she, the spouse august of the God-prospered
king, By many years of wise discretion well hath earned. Since thou, now recognized, thine ancient station here Again assum'st, as Queen and Mistress of the House, Grasp thou the reins so long relaxed, be ruler now. Take in thy keep the treasure, and ourselves thereto ! But first of all protect me, who the eldest am. From this pert throng, who with thee. Swan of Beauty,
matched. Are only stumpy-winged and cackling, quacking geese.
LEADER OF THE CHORUS.
How Ugly, near to Beauty, showeth Ugliness !
ACT III. 175
PHORKYAS.
How silly, near to understanding, want of sense !
(Henceforth the Choretids answer in turn, stepping singly forth from the Chorus.)
CHORETID 1.'°^ Of Father Erebus relate, relate of Mother Night !
PHORKYAS.
Speak thou of Scylla, sister-children of one flesh !
CHORETID II.
Good store of hideous monsters shows thy family tree !
PHORKYAS.
Go down to Orcus ! There thy tribe and kindred seek !
CHORETID III.
Those who dwell there are all by far too young for thee.
PHORKYAS.
On old Tiresias try thy lascivious arts !
, CHORETID IV.
-Orion's nurse was great-great-grandchild unto thee !
PHORKYAS.
rhee harpies, I suspect, did nurse and feed on filth.
CHORETID V.
Wherewith dost thou such choice emaciation feed ?
PHORKYAS.
Not with the b?ood, for which thou all too greedy art.
176
FA usr.
CHORETID VI.
Thou, hungering for corpses, hideous corpse thyself !
PHORKYAS.
The teeth of vampires in thy shameless muzzle shine !
LEADER OF THE CHORUS.
Thine shall I stop, when I declare thee who thou art.
PHORKYAS.
Then name thyself the first ! The riddle thus is solved
HELENA.
Not angered, but in sorrow, do I intervene, Prohibiting the storm of this alternate strife ! For nothing more injurious meets the ruling lord Than quarrels of his faithful servants, underhand. The echo of his orders then returns no more Accordantly to him in swiftly finished acts. But, roaring wilfully, encompasses with storm Him, self-confused, and chiding to the empty air. Nor this alone : in most unmannered anger ye Have conjured hither pictures of the shapes of dread, Which so surround me, that to Orcus now I feel My being whirled, despite these well-known native fields. Can it be memory ? Was it fancy, seizing me ? Was all that, I? and am I, now? and shall I hence- forth be The dream and terror of those town-destroying ones } I see the maidens shudder : but, the eldest, thou Composedly standest — speak a word of sense to me !
PHORKYAS.
Whoe'er the fortune manifold of years recalls, Sees as a dream at last the favor of the Gods.
ACT III. lyy
But thou, so highly dowered, so past all measure helped, Saw'st in the ranks of life but love-desirous men. To every boldest hazard kindled soon and spurred. Thee early Theseus snatched, excited by desire, Like Heracles in strength, a splendid form of man.
HELENA.
He bore me forth, a ten-year-old and slender roe, And shut me in Aphidnus' tower, in Attica.
PHORKYAS.
But then, by Castor and by Pollux soon released, The choicest crowd of heroes, wooing, round thee pressed.
HELENA.
Yet most my secret favor, freely I confess, Patroclus won, the likeness of Pelides he.
PHORKYAS.
Wed by thy father's will to Menelaus then.
HELENA.
My sire the daughter gave him, and the government ; Then from our wedded nearness sprang Hermione.
PHORKYAS.
Yet when he boldly claimed the heritage of Crete, To thee, the lonely one, too fair a guest appeared.
HELENA.
Why wilt thou thus recall that semi-widowhood, And all the hideous ruin it entailed on me ? 8*
1 78 FAUST.
PHORKYAS.
To me, a free-born Cretan, did that journey bring Imprisonment, as well, — protracted slavery.
HELENA.
At once he hither ordered thee as stewardess. Giving in charge the fortress and the treasure-stores.
PHORKYAS.
Which thou forsookest, wending to the towered town Of Ilion, and the unexhausted joys of love.
HELENA.
Name not those joys to me ! for sorrow all too stern Unendingly was poured upon my breast and brain.
PHORKYAS.
Nathless, they say, dost thou appear in double form •, Beheld in Ilion, — in Egypt, too, beheld.
HELENA.
Make wholly not confused my clouded, wandering sense ! Even in this moment, who I am I cannot tell.
PHORKYAS.
And then, they say, from out the hollow Realm of Shades
Achilles yet was joined in passion unto thee,
Who earlier loved thee, 'gainst all ordinances of Fate !
HELENA.
To him, the Vision, I, a Vision, wed myself : '°7
It was a dream, as even the words themselves declare.
I vanish hence, and to myself a Vision grow.
{She sinks into the arms of the Semichorus.)
ACT III. 179
CHORUS.
Silence ! silence !
False-seeing one, false-speaking one !
Out of the hideous, single-toothed
Mouth, what should be exhaled from
Such abominable horror-throat !
For the Malevolent, seeming benevolent, —
Wolf's wrath under the sheep's woolly fleece, —
FearfuUer far is unto me than
Throat of the three-headed dog.
Anxiously listening stand we here.
When ? how ? where shall break again forth
Further malice
From the deeply-ambushed monster ?
Now, stead'of friendly words and consoling,
Lethe-bestowing, gratefully mild,
Stirrest thou up from all the Past
Evillest more than good things,
And darkenest all at once
Both the gleam of the Present
And also the Future's
Sweetly glimmering dawn of hope !
Silence! silence! That the Queen's high spirit, Nigh to forsake her now, Hold out, and upbear yet The Form of all forms Which the sun shone on ever. (Helena has recovered, and stands again in the centre.)
PHORKYAS.
Forth from transient vapors comes the lofty sun of this bright day,
l8o FAUST.
That, obscured, could so delight us, but in splendor
dazzles now. As the world to thee is lovely, thou art lovely unto us ; .
Though as ugly they revile me, well I know the Beautifutr^
HELENA.
Tottering step I from the Void that — dizzy, fainting, — round me closed ;
And again would fajn be resting, for so weary are my limbs.
Yet to Queens beseemeth chiefly, as to all men it be- seems,
Calm to be, and pluck up courage, whatsoe'er may menace them.
PHORKYAS.
Standing now in all thy greatness, and in all thy beauty,
here. Says thine eye that thou commandest : what command'st
thou ? speak it out !
HELENA.
Be prepared, for much neglected in your quarrel, to atone ! Haste, a sacrifice to furnish, as the king hath ordered me !
Uui^ PHORKYAS.
^ All is ready in the palace — vessels, tripods, sharpened axe. For the sprinkling, fumigating : show to me the victim now!
HELENA.
This the king not indicated.
PHORKYAS.
Spake it not ? O word of woe !
ACT III. i8i
HELENA.
What distress hath overcome thee ?
I?
And these.
PHORKYAS.
Queen, the offering art thou ! ^°^
HELENA.
PHORKYAS.
CHORUS.
Ah, woe and sorrow !
PHORKYAS.
Thou shalt fall beneath the axe.
HELENA.
Fearful, yet foreboded ! I, alas !
PHORKYAS.
f^
There seemeth no escape.
CHORUS.
Ah ! and what to us will happen ?
PHORKYAS.
She will die a noble death ; But upon the lofty beam, upholding rafter-frame and roof, As in birding-time the throstles, ye in turn shall strug- gling hang ! (Helena and the Chorus stand amazed and alarmed^ in striking, well-arranged groups. )
PHORKYAS.
Ye Phantoms ! — like to frozen images ye stand. In terror thus from Day to part, which is not yours.
-vK
1 82 FAUST.
Men, and the race of spectres like you, one and all, Renounce not willingly the bright beams of the sun ; But from the end may none implore or rescue them. All know it, yet 't is pleasant-unto very few. Enough ! ye all are lost : now speedily to work ! {She claps her hands : thereupon appear in the doorway fnuf-
fled dwarfish forms ^ which at once carry out with alacrity
the commands expressed.) This way, ye gloomy, sphery-bodied monster throng ! Roll hitherwards ! ye here may damage as ye will. The altar portable, the golden-horned, set up ! The axe let shimmering lie across^ the silver rim ! The urns of water fill ! For soon, to wash away. Shall be the black blood's horrible and smutching stains. Here spread the costly carpets out upon the dust, That so the offering may kneel in queenly wise, And folded then, although with severed head, at once With decent dignity be granted sepulture !
LEADER OF THE CHORUS,
The Queen is standing, sunk in thought, beside us here, The maidens wither like the late-mown meadow grass ; Methinks that I, the eldest, in high duty bound. Should words exchange with thee, primeval eldest thou ! Thou art experienced, wise, and seemest well-disposed. Although this brainless throng assailed thee in mistake. Declare then, if thou knowest, possible escape !
PHORKYAS.
'T is easy said. Upon the Queen it rests alone. To save herself, and ye appendages with her. But resolution, and the swiftest, needful is.
CHORUS.
Worthiest and most reverend of the Parcae, wisest siby/ thou,
ACT III. 183
Hold the golden shears yet open, then declare us Day and Help !
We already feel discomfort of the soaring, swinging, struggling ;
And our limbs in dances first would rather move in joy- ous cadence,
Resting afterwards on lovers' breasts.
HELENA.
Let these be timid ! Pain I feel, but terror none ; Yet if thou know'st of rescue, grateful I accept ! Unto the wise, wide-seeing mind is verily shown The Impossible oft as possible. Then speak, and say !
CHORUS.
Speak and tell us, tell us quickly, how escape we now the fearful.
Fatal nooses, that so menace, like the vilest form of necklace.
Wound about our tender throats ? Already, in antici- pation,
We can feel the choking, smothering — if thou, Rhea, lofty Mother
Of the Gods, to mercy be not moved.
PHORKYAS.
Have you then patience, such long-winded course of
speech To hear in silence .'' Manifold the stories are.
CHORUS.
Patience enough ! Meanwhile, in hearing, still we hve.
PHORKYAS.
Whoso, to guard his noble wealth, abides at home, And in his lofty dwelling well cements the chinks
1 84 FAUST.
And also from the pelting rain secures the roof, With him, the long days of his life, shall all be well : But whosoe'er his threshold's holy square-hewn stone Lightly with flying foot and guilty oversteps, Finds, when he comes again, the ancient place, indeed, But all things altered, if not utterly o'erthrown.
HELENA.
Wherefore declaim such well-known sayings here, as
these ? Thou wouldst narrate : then stir not up annoying themes !
PHORKYAS.
It is historic truth, and nowise a reproach. Sea-plundering, Menelaus steered from bay to bay ; He skirted as a foe the islands and the shores, Returning with the booty, which in yonder rusts. Then ten long years he passed in front of I lion ; But for the voyage home how many know I not. And now how is it, where we stand by Tyndarus' Exalted House ? How is it with the regions round ?
HELENA.
Has then Abuse become incarnated in thee.
That canst not open once thy lips, except to blame ?
PHORKYAS.
So many years deserted stood the valley-hills That in the rear of Sparta northwards rise aloft. Behind Taygetus ; whence, as yet a nimble brook, Eurotas downward rolls, and then, along our vale By reed-beds broadly flowing, nourishes your swans. Behind there in the mountain-dells a daring breed Have settled, pressing forth from the Cimmerian Night,
ACT III. 185
And there have built a fortress inaccessible,
Whence land and people now they harry, as they please.
HELENA.
Have they accomplished that ? Impossible it seems.
PHORKYAS.
They had the time : it may be twenty years, in all.
HELENA.
Is one a Chief? and are they robbers many — leagued?
PHORKYAS.
Not robbers are they ; yet of many one is Chief : '°9 I blame him not, although on me he also fell. He might, indeed, have taken all ; yet was content With somki free-gifts, he said: tribute he called it not.
HELENA.
How looked the man ?
PHORKYAS.
By no means ill : he pleased me well. Cheerful and brave and bold, and nobly-formed is he, A prudent man and wise, as few among the Greeks. They call the race Barbarians ; yet I question much If one so cruel be, as there by Ilion In man-devouring rage so many heroes were ; His greatness I respected, did confide in him. And then, his fortress ! That should ye yourselves
behold ! 'T is something other than unwieldy masonrj-, The which your fathers, helter-skelter tumbling, piled, — Cyclopean like the Cyclops, stones undressed at once On stones i!.ndressed upheaving : there, however, there
1 86 FAUST.
All plumb and balanced is, conformed to square and rule. Behold it from without ! It rises heavenward up So hard, so tight of joint, and mirror-smooth as steel. To climb up there — nay, even your Thought itself slides
off! And mighty courts of ample space within, enclosed Around with structures of all character and use. There you see pillars, pillarets, arches great and small, Balconies, galleries for looking out and in, And coats of arms.
CHORUS.
What are they ?
PHORKYAS.
Ajax surely bore A twisted serpent on his shield, as ye have seen. The Seven also before Thebes had images. Each one upon his shield, with many meanings rich. One saw there moon and star on the nocturnal sky, And goddesses, and heroes, ladders, torches, swords, And whatsoe'er afflicting threateneth good towns. Such symbols also bore our own heroic band, In shining tints, bequeathed from eldest ancestry. You see there lions, eagles, likewise claws and beaks, Then buffalo-horns, with wings and roses, peacock's-tails, And also bars — gold, black and silver, blue and red. The like of these in halls are hanging, row on row, — In halls unlimited and spacious as the world : There might ye dance !
CHORUS.
But tell us, are there dancers there '
PHORKYAS.
Ay, and the best ! — a blooming, gold-haired throng of boys.
ACT HI. 187
Breathing ambrosial youth ! So only Paris breathed, When he approached too nearly to *the Queen.
HELENA.
Thou fall'st Entirely from thy part : speak now the final word !
PHORKYAS.
'Tis thou shalt speak it : say with grave distinctness, Yes ! Then straight will I surround thee with that fortress.
CHORUS.
Speak, O speak the one brief word, and save thyself and us !
HELENA.
What ! Shan I fear King Menelaus may transgress So most inhumanly, as thus to smite myself?
PHORKYAS.
Hast thou forgotten how he thy Deiphobus, Brother of fallen Paris, who with stubborn claim Took thee, the widow, as his fere, did visit with Unheard-of mutilation ? Nose and ears he cropped, And otherwise disfigured : 't was a dread to see.
HELENA.
That did he unto him : he did it for my sake.
PHORKYAS,
Because of him he now will do the like to thee. Beauty is indivisible : "° who once possessed Her wholly, rather slays than only share in part.
( Trumpets in the distance: the Chorus starts in terror.) Even as the trumpet's piercing clangor gripes and tears The ear and entrail-nerves, thus Jealousy her claws
1 88 FAUST.
Drives in the bosom of the man, who ne'er forgets What once was his* but now is lost, possessed no more.
CHORUS.
Hear'st thou not the trumpets pealing ? see'st thou not the shine of swords ?
PHORKYAS.
King and Lord, be welcome hither ! willing reckoning will I give.
CHORUS.
What of us?
PHORKYAS.
You know it clearly, see her death before your eyes ;
There, within, your own shall follow : nay, there is no
help for you !
Pause.
HELENA.
What I may venture first to do, have I devised.
A hostile Daemon art thou, that I feel full well,
And much I fear thou wilt convert the Good to Bad,
But first to yonder fortress now I follow thee ;
What then shall come, I know : but what the Queen
thereby As mystery in her deepest bosom may conceal. Remain unguessed by all ! Now, Ancient, lead the way I
CHORUS.
O how gladly we go, Hastening thither ! Chasing us. Death, And, rising before us, The towering castle's
ACT III. 189
Inaccessible ramparts. Guard us as well may they As I lion's citadel-fort, Which at last alone Fell, through contemptible wiles ! MisU arise and spread, obscuring the background^ cUso tht nearer portion of the scene, at pleasure.) How is it? how? *
Sisters, look around ! Was it not cheerf ullest day ? Banded vapors are hovering up Out of Eurotas' holy stream; Vanished e'en now hath the lovely Reed-engarlanded shore from the sight, Likewise the free, gracefully-proud, Silently floating swans. Mated in joy of their swimming, See I, alas ! no more.
Still — but still Crying, I hear them, Hoarsely crying afar ! Ominous, death-presaging! Ah, may to us the tones not also, Stead of deliverance promised. Ruin announce at the last ! — Us, the swan-like and slender, Long white-throated, and She, Our fair swan-begotten. Woe to us, woe !
All is covered and hid Round us with vapor and cloud : Each other behold we not ! What happens ? do we advance ?
%
190' FAUST.
Hover we only with
Skipping footstep along the ground ?
Seest thou naught ? Soars not even, perchance,
Hermes before us? Shines not the golden wand,
Bidding, commanding us back again
To the cheerless, gray-twilighted,
Full of impalpable phantoms,
Over-filled, eternally empty Hades ?
Yes, at once the air is gloomy, sunless vanish now the
vapors. Gray and darkly, brown as buildings. Walls present
themselves before us. Blank against our clearer vision. Is 't a court ? a moat,
or pitfall ? Fear-inspiring, any way! and Sisters, ah, behold us
prisoned, — Prisoned now, as ne'er before !^
[Inner court-yard of a Castle,^^^ surrounded with rick, faiV' ^' tastic buildings of the Middle Ages.)
LEADER OF THE CHORUS.
Precipitate and fooHsh, type of women ye ! Dependent on the moment, sport of every breeze That blows mischance or luck ! and neither ever ye Supported calmly. One is sure to contradict The others fiercely, and cross-wise the others her : Only in joy and pain ye howl and laugh alike. Be silent now, and hearken what the Mistress here, High-thoughted, may determine for herself and us !
HELENA.
Where art thou. Pythoness ? Whatever be thy name, Step forth from out these arches of the gloomy keep ! If thou didst go, unto the wondrous hero-lord
ACT IIL 191
Me to announce, preparing thus reception fit, Then take my thanks, and lead me speedily to him ! I wish the wandering closed, I wish for rest alone.
LEADER OF THE CHORUS.
In vain thou lookest, Queen, all ways around thee here; That fatal shape hath vanished hence, perhaps remained There in the mists, from out whose bosoni hitherwards-^ I know not how — we came, swiftly, without a step. Perhaps, indeed, she strays, lost in the labyrinth Of many- castles wondrously combined in one, Seeking august and princely welcome from the lord. But see ! up yonder moves in readiness a crowd : In galleries, at windows, through the portals, comes A multitude of servants, hastening here and there ; And this proclaims distinguished welcome to the guest
CHORUS.
My heart is reheved ! O, yonder behold
How so orderly downward with lingering step
The crowd of the youths in dignity comes,
In regular march ! Who hath given command
That they marshal in ranks, and so promptly disposed,
The youthfullest boys of the beautiful race ?
What shall most I admire ? Is 't the delicate gait,
Or the curls of the hair on the white of the brow,
Or the twin-rounded cheeks, blushing red like the peach,
And also, like them, with the silkiest down ?
Fain therein would I bite, yet I fear me to try j
For, in similar case, was the mouth thereupon
Filled — I shudder to tell it ! — with ashes.
But they, the fairest, Hither they come : What do they bear ?
192 FAUST.
Steps to the throne
Carpet and seat,
Curtain and tent,
Or similar gear ;
Waving around, and
Cloudy wreaths forming
O'er the head of our Queen ;
For she already ascendeth,
Invited, the sumptuous couch.
Come forward, now,
Step by step,
Solemnly ranged !
Worthy, O, threefold worthy her,
May such a reception be blessed !
\All that is described by the Chorus takes place by degrees. After the boys and squires have descended in a long proces* sion, Faust appears above, at the head of the staircase, in knightly Court costume of the Middle Ages, and then cotneJ down slowly and with dignity.)
LEADER OF THE CHORUS
{observing him attentively).
If now, indeed, the Gods to this man have not lent —
As oft they do to men — a brave, transcendent form,
A winning presence, stately dignity of mien,
For temporary service, all he undertakes
Will always bring him triumph, whether in fight with
men. Or in the minor wars with fairest ladies waged. Him, verily, to hosts of others I prefer, Whom, highly-famed withal, I have myself beheld. With slow and solemn step, by reverence restrained, I see the Prince approach : turn thou thy head, O
Queen !
ACT III. 1^3
FAUST {approaching: a matt in fetters at his side). Instead of solemn greeting, as beseems, Or reverential welcome, bring I thee, Fast-bound in welded fetters, here, the knave Whose duty slighted cheated me of mine.'" Kneel down, thou Culprit, that this lofty Dame May hear the prompt confession of thy guilt ! This, Sovereign Mistress, is the man select «
For piercing vision, on the turret high Stationed to look around, the space of heaven And breadth of earth to read with sharpest glance, If here or there perchance come aught to view, — Between the stronghold and the circling hills If aught may move, whether the billowy herds Or waves of armdd men : those we protect. Encounter these. To-day — what negligence ! Thou comest, he proclaims it not: we fail In honorable reception, most deserved, Of such high guest. Now forfeited hath he His guilty life, and should have shed the blood Of death deserved ; but only thou shalt mete Pardon or punishment, at thy good will.
HELENA.
So high the power, which thou hast granted me,
As Mistress and as Judge, although it were
(I may conjecture) meant but as a test, —
Yet now I use the Judge's bounden right
To give the Accused a hearing : speak then, thou !
LYNCEUS, THE WARDER OF THE TOWER. '
Let me kneel, and let me view her, Let me live, or let me die !
VOL. IL
\'
194
FAUST.
For enslaved, devoted to her, This God-granted Dame, am I.
Watching for the Morn's advancing Where her pathways eastward run, All at once, a sight entrancing, In the South arose the sun."3
There to look, the Wonder drew me : Not the glens, the summits cold, Space of sky or landscape gloomy, — Only Her did I behold.
Beam of sight to me was given, Like the lynx on highest tree ; But in vain I 've urged and striven, 'T was a dream that fettered me.
Could I know, or how be aided .'' Think of tower or bolted gate ? Vapors rose and vapors faded, And the Goddess came in state !
Eye and heart did I surrender To the softly-shining spell : Blinding all with Beauty's splendor, She hath Winded me, as well.
I forgot the warder's duty And the trumpet's herald-call : Threaten to destroy me ! Beauty Bindeth anger, frees her thrall.
HELENA.
The Evil which I brought, I dare no more Chastise. Ah, woe to me ! What fate severe
ACT III. 195
Pursues me, everywhere the breasts of men So to infatuate, that nor them, nor aught Besides of worth, they spare ? Now plundering, Seducing, fighting, hurried to and fro, Heroes and Demigods, Gods, Demons even, Hither and thither led me, sore-perplexed. Sole, I the world bewildered, doubly more ; Now threefold, fourfold, woe on woe I bring. Remove this guiltless man, let him go free ! The God-deluded merits no disgrace.
FAUST.
Amazed, O Queen, do I behold alike
The unerring archer and the stricken prey.
I see the bow, wherefrom the arrow sped
That wounded him. Arrows on arrows fly.
And strike me. I suspect the feathered hum
Of bolts cross-fired through all the courts and towers.
What am I now ? At once rebellious thou
Makest my faithfullest, and insecure
My walls. Thence do I fear that even my hosts
Obey the conquering and unconquered Dame.
What else remains, but that I give to thee
Myself, and all I vainly fancied mine ?
Let me, before thy feet, in fealty true.
Thee now acknowledge. Lady, whose approach
Won thee at once possession and the throne !
LYNCEUS
{with a chest, and men who follow, bearing others).
Thou seest me. Queen, returned and free ! The wealthy begs a glance from thee : Thee he beheld, and feeleth, since, As beggar poor, yet rich as prince.
196
FAUST,
What was I erst ? What now am I ? What shall I will ? — what do, or try ? What boots the eyesight's sharpest ray ? Back from thy throne it bounds away.
Forth from the East we hither pressed,"^ And all was over with the West : So long and broad the people massed, The foremost knew not of the last.
The foremost fell, the second stood ; The third one's lance was prompt and good ; Each one a hundred's strength supplied : Unnoted, thousands fell and died.
We onward pressed, in stormy chase ; The lords were we from place to place ; And where, to-day, / ruled as chief. The morrow brought another thief.
We viewed the ground, but viewed in haste : The fairest woman one embraced, One took the oxen from the stall ; The horses followed, one and all.
But my delight was to espy What rarest was, to mind and eye ; And all that others might amass To me was so much withered grass.
I hunted on the treasure-trail Where'er sharp sight could me avail: In every pocket did I see, And every chest was glass to me.
ACT in.
And heaps of gold I came to own, With many a splendid jewel-stone : The emeralds only worthy seem Greenly upon thy breast to gleam.
'Twixt lip and ear let swaying sleep The pearly ^gg of Ocean's deep ; Such place the rubies dare not seek, They 're blanched beside the rosy cheek.
And thus, the treasure's offering I here before thy presence bring : Laid at thy feet, be now revealed The spoils of many a bloody field !
Though I have brought of chests a store, Yet iron caskets have I more. Let me attend thee, do thy will, And I thy treasure-vaults will fill.
For scarcely didst thou mount the throne. Than bowed to own and bent to own Thy Beauty's sway, that very hour. Wisdom, and Wealth, and sovereign Power.
All such I held secure, as mine ; Now freed therefrom, behold it thine ! I deemed its worth and value plain ; Now see I, it was null and vain.
What I possessed from me doth pass. Dispersed like mown and withered grass. One bright and beauteous glance afford, And all its worth is straight restored !
197
198 FAUST.
FAUST.
Remove with speed the burden boldly won, Not blamed, indeed, but neither with reward. All is her own already, which the keep Within it holds ; and special offer thus Is useless. Go, and pile up wealth on wealth In order fit ! Present the show august Of splendors yet unseen ! The vaulted halls Make shine like clearest heaven ! Let Paradise From lifeless pomp of life created be ! Hastening, before her footsteps be unrolled The flower-embroidered carpets ! Let her tread Fall on the softest footing, and her glance, Gods only bear undazed, on proudest pomp !
LYNCEUS.
What the lord commands is slight ; For the servants, labor light : Over wealth and blood and breath This proud Beauty governeth. Lo ! thy warrior-throngs are tame ; All the swords are blunt and lame ; Near the bright form we behold Even the sun is pale and cold ; Near the riches of her face All things empty, shorn of grace.
HELENA [to Faust). Fain to discourse with thee, I bid thee come Up hither to my side ! The empty place Invites its lord, and thus secures me mine.
FAUST.
First, kneeling, let the dedication be Accepted, lofty Lady ! Let me kiss
ACT III. 199
The gracious hand that lifts me to thy side. Confirm me as co-regent of thy realm, Whose borders are unknown, and win for thee Guard, slave and worshipper, and all in one !
HELENA.
I hear and witness marvels manifold ;
Amazement takes me, much would I inquire.
Yet now instruct me wherefore spake the man
With strangely-sounding speech, friendly and strange :
Each sound appeared as yielding to the next,"5
And, when a word gave pleasure to the ear.
Another came, caressing then the first.
FAUST.
If thee our people's mode of speech delight, O thou shalt be enraptured with our song. Which wholly' satisfies both ear and mind ,' But it were best we exercise it now : Alternate speech entices, calls it forth.
HELENA.
Canst thou to me that lovely speech impart?
FAUST.
'T is easy : it must issue from the heart ; And if the breast with yearning overflow, One looks around, and asks —
HELENA.
Who shares the glow.
FAUST. (^
Nor Past nor Future shades an hour like this ; But wholly in the Present —
200
FA UST. HELENA.
Is our bliss.
FAUST.
Gain, pledge, and fortune in the Present stand : What confirmation does it ask ?
HELENA.
My hand.
CHORUS.
Who would take it amiss, that our Princess Granteth now to the Castle's lord Friendliest demonstration .? For, indeed, collectively are we Captives, as ofttimes already, Since the infamous downfall Of Ilion, and the perilous, Labyrinthine, sorrowful voyage.
Women, to the love of men accustomed.
Dainty choosers are they not.
But proficients skilful ;
And unto golden-haired shepherds.
Perchance black, bristly Fauns, too,
Even as comes opportunity.
Unto the limbs in their vigor
Fully award they an equal right.
Near, and nearer already sit
They, to each other drawn.
Shoulder to shoulder, knee to knee ;
Hand in hand, they bend and sway
Over the throne's \
Softly-pillowed, luxurious pomp. |
ACT III. 20 1
Majesty here not withholds its Secretest raptures, Wilfully, boldly revealed Thus to the eyes of the people.
HELENA.
I feel so far away, and yet so near ;
And am so fain to say : " Here am I ! here."
1
FAUST.
I scarcely breathe ; I tremble ; speech is dead : It is a dream, and day and place have fled.
HELENA.
I seem as life were done, and yet so new,
Blent thus with thee, — to thee, the Unknown, true!
FAUST.
To probe this rarest fate be not impelled ! Being is duty, though a moment held.
PHORKYAS {violently entering), f" Spell in lovers' primers sweetly ! Probe and dally, cosset featly, Test your wanton sport completely ! But there is not time, nor place. Feel ye not the gloomy presage ? Hear ye not the trumpet's message ? For the ruin comes apace. Menelaus with his legions Storms across the hither regions ; Call to battle all your race ! By the victors execrated, Like Deiphobus mutilated. Thou shalt pay for woman's grace *.
202 FAUST.
First shall dangle every light one, At the altar, then, the Bright One Find the keen axe in its place !
FAUST.
Disturbance rash ! repulsively she presses in ;
Not even in danger meet is senseless violence.
Ill message makes the fairest herald ugly seem ;
Thou, Ughest, delightest but iij evil news.
Yet this time shalt thou not succeed ; with empty breath
Stir, shatter thou the air ! There is no danger here,
And unto us were danger but an idle threat.
{Signals, explosions from the towers,^^^ trumpets and cornets, martial music. A powerful armed force marches past.) No ! hero-bands, none ever braver, At once shalt thou assembled see : He, sole, deserves the ladies' favor, Whose arm defends them gallantly.
( To the leaders of the troops, who detach themselves from the columns, and come forwards.) With rage restrained, in silence banded, And certain of the victory-feast. Ye, Northern blossoms, half expanded. Ye, flowery fervors of the East !
The light upon their armor breaking, They plundered realm on realm, at will : They come, and lo ! the earth is quaking ; They march away, it thunders still !
In Pylos we forsook the waters ; The ancient Nestor is no more. And soon our lawless army scatters The troops of kings on Grecian shore.
ACT III. 203
Back from these walls, no more delaying, Drive Menelaus to the sea ! There let him wander, robbing, slaying, As was his wish and destiny.
I hail you Dukes, as forth ye sally Beneath the rule of Sparta's Queen ! Now lay before her mount and valley. And you shall share the kingdom green !
Thine, German, be the hand that forges Defence for Corinth and her bays : Achaia, with its hundred gorges, I give thee, Goth, to hold and raise.
Towards Elis, Franks, direct your motion ; Messene be the Saxon's state : The Norman claim and sweep the ocean, And Argolis again make great !
Then each shall dwell in homes well-dowered, And only outer foemen meet ; Yet still by Sparta over-towered. The Queen's ancestral, ancient seat.
Each one shall she behold, abiding In lands that lack no liberal right ; And at her feet ye '11 seek, confiding. Your confirmation, law and light ! ; Faust descends from the throne: the Princes form a circle around him^ in order to receive special commands and in- structions.)
CHORUS.
Who for himself the Fairest desires, First of all things, let him
204 FAUST.
Bravely and wisely a weapon acquire ! Flattering, indeed, he may conquer What on earth is the highest ; But he quietly may not possess. Wily sneaks entice her away, Robbers boldly abduct her from him : This to hinder be he prepared !
Therefore now our Prince I praise, Holding him higher than others. Since he wisdom and strength combines, So that the strong men obedient stand, Waiting his every beckon. They his orders faithfully heed. Each for the profiting of himself As for the Ruler's rewarding thanks, And for the highest renown of both.
For who shall tear her away
Now, from the mighty possessor ?
His is she, and to him be she granted,
Doubly granted by us, whom he.
Even as her, within by sure walls hath surrounded,
And without by a powerful host.
FAUST.
The gifts they 've won by our concession, — In fee to each a wealthy land, — Are grand and fair : grant them possession ! We in the midst will take our stand.
And they in rivalry protect thee,
Half-Island, girdled by the sea
With whispering waves, — whose soft hill-chains connect
thee With the last branch of Europe's mountain-tree !
ACT in. 205
This land, before all lands in splendor,"? On every race shall bliss confer, — Which to my queen in glad surrender Yields, as it first looked up to her.
When, 'mid Eurotas' whispering rushes She burst from Leda's purple shell, So blinding in her beauty's flushes. That mother, brothers, felt the spell !
This land, which seeks thy sole direction, Its brightest bloom hath now unfurled : Prefer; thy fatherland's affection To what is wholly thine, the world !
And though upon its ridg}-' backs of mountains The Sun's cold arrow smites each cloven head. Yet, where the rock is greened by falling fountains. The wild-goat nibbles and is lightly fed.
The springs leap forth, the streams united follow ; Green are the gorges, slopes, and meads below : On hundred hillsides, cleft with many a hollow. Thou seest the woolly herds like scattered snow.
Divided, cautious, graze with measured paces The cattle onward to the dizzy edge. Yet for them all are furnished sheltered places. Where countless caverns arch the rocky ledge.
Pan guards them there, and nymphs of life are dwelling In bushy clefts, that moist and freshest be; And yearningly to higher regions swelling. The branches crowd aloft of tree on tree.
2o6 FAUST.
Primeval woods ! the strong oak there is regnant, And bough crooks out from bough in stubborn state The maple mild, with sweetest juices pregnant, Shoots cleanly up, and dalHes with its weight.
And motherly, in that still realm of shadows. The warm milk flows, for child's and lambkin's lips : At hand is fruit, the food of fertile meadows. And from the hollow trunk the honey drips.
Here comfort is in birth transmitted ; To cheek and lip here joy is sent : Each is immortal in his station fitted, And all are healthy and content.
And thus the child in that bright season gaineth The father-strength, as in a dream : We wonder ; yet the question still remaineth, If they are men, when Gods they seem.
So was Apollo shepherd-like in feature. That other shepherds were as fair and fleet ; For where in such clear orbit moveth Nature, All worlds in inter-action meet."^
( Taking his seat beside her. )
Thus hath success my fate and thine attended ; Henceforth behind us let the Past be furled ! O, feel thyself from highest God descended ! For thou belongest to the primal world.
Thy life shall circumscribe no fortress frowning ! Still, in eternal youth, stands as it stood. For us, our stay with every rapture crowning, Arcadia in Sparta's neighborhood.
ACT III.
207
To tread this happy soil at last incited, Thy flight was towards a joyous destiny ! Now let our throne become a bower unblighted, Our bliss become Arcadian and free !
I The scene of action is completely transformed. Against a range of rocky caverns close bowers are constructed. A shadowy grove extends to the foot of the rocks which rise on all sides. Faust and Helena are not seen : the Chorus lies scattered about, sleepingi\
PHORKYAS.
How long these maidens have been sleeping, know I not : If they allowed themselves to dream what now mine eyes So clearly saw, is equally unknown to me. Therefore, I wake them. They, the Young, shall be
amazed, — Ye also. Bearded Ones, who sit below and wait,"' — Solution of these marvels finally to see. Awake ! arise ! and shake from off your locks the dew. The slumber from your eyes ! Listen, and cease to blink !
CHORUS.
Speak and tell us, quickly tell us, all the wonders that
have happened ! We shall hear with greater pleasure, if belief we cannot
give it. For both eye and mind are weary, to behold these rocks
alone.
PHORKYAS.
Children, you have hardly rubbed your eyes, and are you
weary now ? Hear me, then ! Within these caverns, in the grottos
and the arbors. Screen and shelter have been lent, as unto twain idyllic
lovers, To our Lord and to our Lady.
208 FAUST,
CHORUS.
How ? within there ?
PHORKYAS.
Separated From the world, me only did they summon to their quiet
service. Honored thus, I stood beside them, but, as fit in one so
trusted. Looked around at something other, turning here and there
at random, — Seeking roots, and bark, and mosses, being skilled in
healing simples, — And the twain were left alone.
CHORUS.
Speakest thou as if within were spaces roomy as the
world is : Wood and meadow, lakes and rivers, — what a fable
dost thou spin !
PHORKYAS.
Certainly, ye Inexperienced I Those are unexplored
recesses : Hall on hall, and court on court succeeding, musingly I
tracked. All at once a laughter echoes through the spaces of the
caverns ; As I look, a Boy is leaping from the mother's lap to
father's. From the father to the mother : the caressing and the
dandling, Teasing pranks of silly fondness, cry of sport and shout
of rapture. They, alternate, deafen me.
ACT III 209
He, a Genius naked, wingless, like a Faun without the
beasthood, Leaps upon the solid pavement •, yet the pavement now
reacting, Sends him flying high in air, and at the second bound
or third, he Seems to graze the vaulted roof. Cries, disquieted, the mother : " Leap repeatedly, at
pleasure. But beware of flying ! for prohibited is flight to thee." And thus warns the faithful father : " Dwells in earth
the force elastic Which thee upwards thus impelleth ; touch but with thy
toe the surface. Like the son of Earth, Antaeus, straightway art thou
strong again." So he springs upon the rocky masses, from a dizzy
cornice To another, and around, as springs a ball when sharply
struck. Yet, a-sudden, in a crevice of the hollow gulf he 's van- ished, And it seemeth we have lost him ! Mother mourns, and
father comforts, Shoulder-shrugging, anxiously I stand. But now, again,
what vision ! Are there treasures yonder hidden ? Garments striped
with broidered blossoms Hath he worthily assumed. Tassels from his shoulders swaying, fillets flutter round
his bosom, In his hand the golden lyre, completely like a little
Phoebus, Cheerily to the brink he steps, the jutting edge: we
stand astounded,
2IO FAUST.
And the parents in their rapture clasp each other to the
heart. What around his head is shining? What it is, were
hard to warrant, Whether golden gauds, or flame of all-subduing strength
of soul. So he moves with stately gesture, even as boy himself
proclaiming ■^¥<r' Future Master of all Beauty, all the melodies eternal
Throbbing in his flesh and blood ; and you shall thus,
dehghted, hear him, — Thus shall you behold him, with a wonder never felt
before !
CHORUS.
Call'st thou a marvel this, Creta 's begotten ? ^^° Poetic-didactical word Hast thou listened to never ? Never yet hearkened Ionia's Never received also Hellas' Godlike, heroical treasure Of ancient, primitive legends ?
All that ever happens Now in the Present Mocks like a mournful echo The grander days of the Fathers. Not comparable is thy story Unto that loveliest falsehood. Than Truth more credible, Sung of the Son of Maia !
This strong and dehcate, yet Scarcely delivered suckling. Swathe ye in purest downy bands,
ACT III. 211
Bind ye in precious diapered stuffs,
As is the gossiping nurse's
Unreasonable notion !
Strongly and daintily draws, no less,
Now the rogue the flexible.
Firm yet elastic body
Cunningly out, and leaveth the close.
Purple, impeding shell
Quietly there in its place,
Like the completed butterfly,
Which from the chilly chrysalid
Nimbly, pinion-unfolding, slips.
Boldly and wilfully fluttering through
Sunshine-pervaded ether.
So he, too, the sprightUest :
That unto thieves and jugglers —
All the seekers of profit, as well, —
He the favorable Daemon was.
Did he speedily manifest
By the skilfullest artifice.
Straight from the Ruler of Ocean stole
He the trident, — from Ares himself
Slyly the sword from the scabbard ;
Arrows and bow from Phoebus, and then
Tongs that Hephaestos was using.
Even from Zeus, the Father, bolts had he
Filched, had the fire not scared him.
Eros, also, he overcame
In leg-tripping wrestling match ;
Then from Cypris, as she caressed him,
Plundered the zone from her bosom. \An exquisite, purely melodious music of stringed instruments resounds from the cavern. All become attentive, and soon appear to be deeply moved. From this point to the pause designated, there is a full musical accompaniment.^
212 FAUST.
PHORKYAS.
Hark ! the music, pure and golden ; Free from fables be at last ! All your Gods, the medley olden, Let depart ! their day is past.
You no more are comprehended ; We require a higher part : By the heart must be expended What shall work upon the heart. {She retires towards the rocks.) CHORUS.
If the flattering music presses, Fearful Being, to thine ears. We, restored to health, confess us Softened to the joy of tears.
Let the sun be missed from heaven, When the soul is bright with morn ! What the world has never given Now within our hearts is born.
(Helena. Faust. Euphorion in the costume already de- scribed.)
■ ■ ■' y
EUPHORION. 121 y;>
Hear ye songs of childish pleasure, Ye are moved to playful glee ; Seeing me thus dance in measure, Leap your hearts parentally.
r
HELENA.
Love, in human wise to bless us,
In a noble Pair must be ;
But divinely to possess us.
It must form a precious Three.
ACT III. FAUST.
All we seek has therefore found us ; I am thine and th6u art mine ! So we stand as Love hath bound us ; Other fortune we resign.
CHORUS.
Many years shall they, delighted, Gather from the shining boy Double bliss for hearts united : In their union what a joy !
EUPHORION.
Let me be skipping, Let me be leaping ! To soar and circle, Through ether sweeping, Is now the passion That me hath won.
FAUST.
But gently! gently! Not rashly faring ; Lest plunge and ruin Repay thy daring, Perchance destroy thee. Our darling son !
EUPHORION.
I will not longer Stagnate below here ! Let go my tresses, My hands let go, here ! Let go my garments ! They all are mine.
213
^14 FAUST.
HELENA.
O think ! Bethink thee To whom thou belongest ! How it would grieve us, And how thou wrongest The fortune fairest, — Mine, His, and Thine !
CHORUS.
Soon shall, I fear me, The sweet bond untwine !
HELENA AND FAUST.
Curb, thou Unfortunate ! For our desiring. Thine over-importunate Lofty aspiring ! Rurally quiet, Brighten the plain !
EUPHORION.
Since you will that I try it. My flight I restrain. {Winding in dance through the Chorus, and drawing them with him.)
Round them I hover free ; Gay is the race : Is this the melody ? Move I with grace ?
HELENA.
Yes, that is featly done : Lead them through, every one. Mazes of art !
ACT III. 215
FAUST.
Soon let it ended be ! Sight of such jugglery Troubles my heart.
CHORUS
{with EUPHORION, dancing nimbly and singing^ in interlink- ing ranks).
When thou thine arms so fair Charmingly liftest, The curls of thy shining hair Shakest and shiftest ; vVhen thou, with foot so light, Brushest the earth in flight. Hither and forth again Leading the linked chain, Then is thy goal in sight, Lovehest Boy ! All of our hearts in joy Round thee unite. Pause.
EUPHORION.
Not yet repose, Ye light-footed roes ! Now to new play Forth, and away ! I am the hunter, You are the game.
CHORUS.
Wouldst thou acquire us, Be not so fast ! We are desirous
2x6 FAUST.
Only, at last, Clasping thy beauty, Kisses to claim !
EUPHORION.
Through groves and through hedges ! O'er cliffs and o'er ledges 1 Lightly what fell to me. That I detest : What I compel to me Pleases me best.
HELENA AND FAUST.
How perverse, how wild he 's growing'. Vain to hope for moderation ; Now it sounds like bugles blowing, Over vale and forest pealing : What disorder ! What a brawl !
CHORUS {entering singly, in haste). Forth from us with swiftness ran he ! Spurning us with scornful feeling, Now he drags from out the many Here, the wildest one of all.
EUPHORION {bearing a young Maiden). Here I drag the little racer, And by force will I embrace her ; For my bliss and for my zest Press the fair, resisting breast, Kiss the mouth, repellent still, — Manifest my strength and will.
MAIDEN.
Let me go ! This frame infoldeth
ACT III.
Also courage, strength of soul : Strong as thine, our will upholdeth, When another would control. I am in a strait, thou deemest ? What a force thine arm would claim ! Hold me, Fool, and ere thou dreamest I will scorch thee, in my game.
{She turns to flame and flashes up in the air,)
To the airy spaces follow. Follow me^to caverns hollow, Snatch and hold thy vanished aim !
EUPHORION {shaking off the last flames). Rocks all around me here. Over the forests hung ! Why should they bound me here ? Still am I fresh and young. Tempests are waking now. Billows are breaking now : Both far away I hear ; Fain would be near.
{He leaps ezier farther up the rocks.)
HELENA, FAUST, AND CHORUS.
Chamois-like, dost thou aspire ? Fearful of the fall are we.
EUPHORION.
I must clamber ever higher, Ever further must I see.
Now, where I am, I spy ! Midst of the Isle am I : VOL. II. lo
217
2i8 FAUST.
Midst of Pelops' land, Kindred in soul, I stand ! '=^
CHORUS.
Bide thou by grove and hill, Peacefully, rather ! We from the vineyards will Grapes for thee gather, — Grapes from the ridges tanned, Figs, and the apple's gd'd : Ah ! yet the lovely land, Loving, behold !
EUPHORION.
Dream ye the peaceful day ? Dream, then, who may ! War ! is the countersign : Victory — word divine !
CHORUS.
Who peace and unity Scorneth, for war's array, With impunity Slays his hope of a better day.
EUPHORION.
They, who this land have led Through danger and dread. Free, boundlessly brave. Lavish of blood they gave, — May they, with glorious Untamable might. Make us victorious. Now, in the fight !
ACT III. CHORUS.
Look aloft ! he seeks the Faraess, Yet to us not small he seems. As for battle, as in harness, He hke steel and silver gleams.
EUPHORION.
Walls and towers no more immuring, Each in vigor stands confessed ! Fortress firm and most enduring Is the soldier's iron breast.
Would ye dwell in freemen's houses? Arm, and forth to combat wild ! See, as Amazons, your spouses, And a hero every child !
CHORUS.
Hallowed Poesy, Heavenward mounting, see ! Shining, the fairest star. Farther, and still more far ! Yet, from the distance blown. Hear we the Ughtest tone. And raptured are.
EUPHORION.
No, 't is no child which thou beholdest —
A youth in arms, with haughty brow !
And with the Strongest, Freest, Boldest,
His soul is pledged, in manly vow.
I go!
For, lo !
The path to Glory opens now."'
219
2 20 FAUST.
HELENA AND FAUST.
Thou thy being scarcely learnest,
Scarcely feel'st the Day's glad beam,
When from giddy steeps thou yeamest
For the place of pain supreme !
Are then we
Naught to thee ?
Is the gracious bond a dream ?
EUPHORION.
And hear ye thunders on the ocean ? From land the thunder-echoes call ? In dust and foam, with fierce commotion, The armies shock, the heroes fall ! The command Is, sword in hand.
HELENA, FAUST, AND CHORUS.
What a horror ! We shall rue it ! Ah, is Death command to thee ?
EUPHORION.
Shall I from the distance view it ? No ! the fate be shared by me !
THE ABOVE.
Danger his arrogance brings : Fatally bold !
EUPHORION.
Yes ! — and a pair of wings See me unfold !
Thither ! I must ! — and thus ! Grant me the flight ! \He casts himself into the air : the garments bear him a mo- ment^ his head is illuminated, and a streak of light follow s\
ACT III. 221
CHORUS.
Icarus ! Icarus ! Sorrowful sight !
[A beautiful Youth falls at the feet of the parents. We imagine that in the dead body we perceive a well-htown form ; yet the corporeal part vanishes at once, and the aureole rises like a comet towards heaven. The garment, mantle, and lyre remain upon the ground^
HELENA AND FAUST.
Joy is followed, when scarce enjoyed, By bitterest moan.
EUPHORION {from the depths). Leave me here, in the gloomy Void, Mother, not thus alone ! Pause.
CHORUS. {Dirge-X''^ Not alone ! where'er thou bidest ; For we know thee what thou art. Ah ! if from the Day thou hidest, Still to thee will cling each heart. Scarce we venture to lament thee, Singing, envious of thy fate ; For in storm and sun were lent thee Song and courage, fair and great.
^ Ah ! for earthly fortune fashioned,
Strength was thine, and proud descent : Early erring, o'er-impassioned. Youth, alas ! from thee was rent. For the world thine eye was rarest, All the heart to thee was known :
122 FAUST.
Thine were loves of women fairest, And a song thy very own.
Yet thou rannest uncontrolledly
In the net the fancies draw,
Thus thyself divorcing boldly
As from custom, so from law ;
Till the highest thought expended
Set at last thy courage free :
Thou wouldst win achievement splendid,
But it was not given to thee.
Unto whom, then ? Question dreary, Destiny will never heed ; When in evil days and weary. Silently the people bleed. But new songs shall still elate them : Bow no longer and deplore ! For the soil shall generate them, As it hath done heretofore.
Complete pause. The music ceases.
J HELENA {to Faust).
Also in me, alas ! an old word proves its truth, That Bliss and Beauty ne'er enduringly unite. Torn is the link of Life, no less than that of Love ; So, both lamenting, painfully I say : Farewell ! And cast myself again — once only — in thine arms. Receive, Persephone, receive the boy and me. {She embraces Faust : her corporeal part disappears, her gar- ^ ment and veil remain in his arms.)
r
phorkyas {to Faust). Hold fast what now alone remains to thee ! The garment let not go ! Already twitch
^^y
>4v
Ja
ACT III.
223
The Demons at its skirts, and they would fain To the Nether Regions drag it ! Hold it fast ! It is no more the Goddess thou hast lost, But godlike is it. For thy use employ The grand and priceless gift, and soar aloft ! 'T will bear thee swift from all things mean and low To ether high, so long thou canst endure. We '11 meet again, far, very far from here. ..
(Helena's ^arwz^-n/j dissolve into clouds,^^s surround FAUSff"*'>\>' li/i him aloft in the air, and move away with him. ) V**
PHORKYAS (takes up Euphorion's tunic, mantle, and lyre from the earth, steps forward to the proscenium, holds aloft these remains, and speaks).
Good leavings have I still discovered ! The Flame has vanished where it hovered, Yet for the world no tears I spend. Enough remains to start the Poets living, And envy in their guilds to send ; And, if their talents are beyond my giving, At least the costume I can lend. (She seats herself upon a column in the proscenium^
PANTHALIS.
Now hasten, maidens ! we are from the magic freed, The old Thessalian trollop's mind-compelling spell, — Freed from the jingling drone of much-bewildering
sound. The ear confusing, and still more the inner sense. Down, then, to Hades! since beforehand went the
Queen, With solemn step descending. Now, upon the track, Let straightway follow her the step of faithful maids ! Her shall we find beside the unfathomed, gloomy King.
224 FAUST.
CHORUS-
Queens, of course, are satisfied everywhere :
Even in Hades take they highest rank,
Proudly associate with their peers.
With Persephone closely aUied :
We, however, in the background
Of the asphodel-besprinkled meadows.
With the endless rows of poplars
And the fruitless willows ever mated, —
What amusement, then, have we ?
Bat-like to squeak and twitter
In whispers uncheery and ghostly !
LEADER OF THE CHORUS.
Who hath not won a name, and seeks not noble works,
Belongs but to the elements : away then, ye !
My own intense desire is with my Queen to be ;
Service and faith secure the individual life."^
{Exit.
ALL.
Given again to the daylight are we,
Persons no more, 't is true, —
We feel it and know it, —
But to Hades return we never !
Nature, the Ever-living,^^?
Makes to us spirits
Validest claim, and we to her also.
A PART OF THE CHORUS.
We, in trembling whispers, swaying rustle of a thousand
branches Sweetly rocked, will lightly lure the rills of life, the
rootborn, upwards To the twigs ; and, or with foliage or exuberant gush
of blossoms.
ACT III.
225
Will we freely deck their flying hair for prosperous airy growth.
Then, when falls the fruit, will straightway gather glad- dened herds and people.
Swiftly coming, briskly pressing, for the picking and the tasting :
All, as if before the early Gods, will then around us bend. '
A SECOND PART.
We, beside these rocks, upon the far-off shining, glassy mirror,
Coaxingly will bend and fluctuate, moving with the gen- tle waters ;
We to every sound will hearken, song of bird or reedy piping ;
Though the dreadful voice of Pan, a ready answer shall we give :
Comes a murmur, we re-murmur, — thunder, we our thunders waken
In reverberating crashes, doubly, trebly, tenfold flung !
A THIRD PART.
Sisters, we, of nimbler fancy, hasten with the brooklets
onward ; For allure us yonder distant, richly-mantled mountain
ranges. Ever downwards, ever deeper, in meandering curves
we water First the meadow, then the pasture; then the garden
round the house. Marked by slender peaks of cypress, shooting clearly
into ether O'er the landscape and the waters and the fading line
of shore.
JO*
226 FAUST.
A FOURTH PART.
Fare, ye others, at your pleasure ; we will girdle and
o'errustle The completely-planted hillside, where the sprouting
vines are green. There at every hour the passion of the vintager is wit- nessed, And the loving diligence, that hath so doubtful a result. Now with hoe and now with shovel, then with hilling,
pruning, tying. Unto all the Gods he prayeth, chiefly to the Sun's
bright god. Small concern hath pampered Bacchus for his faithful
servant's welfare. But in arbors rests, and caverns, toying with the
youngest Faun. For his semi-drunken visions whatsoever he hath needed, It is furnished him in wine-skins, and in amphorae and
vessels. Right and left in cool recesses, cellared for eternal time. But if now the Gods together, Hehos before the others. Have with breeze and dew and warmth and glow the
berries filled with juice. Where the vintager in silence labored, all is life and
motion, Every trellis stirs and rustles, and they go from stake to
stake. Baskets creak and buckets rattle, groaning tubs are
borne on back. All towards the vat enormous and the treaders' lusty^
dance ; So is then the sacred bounty of the pure-born, juicy
berries Rudely trodden ; foaming, spirting, they are mixed and
grimly crushed.
ACT III.
227
Now the ear is pierced with cymbals and the clash of
brazen bosses, For, behold, is Dionysos from his mysteries revealed ! Forth he comes with goat-foot Satyrs, whirling goat-foot
Satyresses, While amid the rout Silenus' big-eared beast unruly
brays. Naught is spared ! The cloven hoofs tread down all
decent custom ; All the senses whirl bewildered, fearfully the ear is
stunned. Drunkards fumble for the goblets, over-full are heads
and paunches ; Here and there hath one misgivings, yet increases thus
the tumult; For, the fresher must to garner, empty they the ancient
skin!
{The curtain falls.^^^ Phorkyas, in the proscenium^ rises to a giant height, steps down from the cothurni, removes her mask and veil, and reveals herself as Mephistopheles, in order, so far as it may be necessary, to comment upon the piece by way of Epilogue. \
228 FAUST.
ACT IV. I.
HIGH MOUNTAINS.
Strongs serrated rocky peaks. A cloud approaches, pauses^ and settles down upon a projecting ledge. It then divides.
FAUST {steps forth). "pv OWN-GAZING on the deepest solitudes below, -Lv I tread deliberately this summit's lonely edge, Relinquishing my cloudy car, which hither bore Me softly through the shining day o'er land and sea. Unscattered, slowly moved, it separates from me. Off eastward strives the mass with rounded, rolling
march : And strives the eye, amazed, admiring, after it. In motion it divides, in wave-hke, changeful guise ; Yet seems to shape a figure. "9 — Yes ! mine eyes not
err! — On sun-illumined pillows beauteously recHned, Colossal, truly, but a godlike woman-form, I see ! The hke of Juno, Leda, Helena, Majestically lovely, floats before my sight ! Ah, now 't is broken ! Towering broad and formlessly, It rests along the east like distant icy hills, And shapes the grand significance of fleeting days. Yet still there clings a light and delicate band of mist
ACT IV. 229
Around my breast and brow, caressing, cheering me. Now light, delayingly, it soars and higher soars. And folds together. — Cheats me an ecstatic form,* As early-youthful, long-foregone and highest bliss ? The first glad treasures of my deepest heart break forth ; Aurora's love, so light of pinion, is its type. The swiftly-felt, the first, scarce-comprehended glance. Outshining every treasure, when retained and held. Like Spiritual Beauty mounts the gracious Form, Dissolving not, but lifts itself through ether far, And from my inner being bears the best away. {A Seven-league Boot trips forward : '3o another immediately
follows. Mephistopheles steps out of them. The Boots
stride onward in haste. )
MEPHISTOPHELES.
I call that genuine forward-striding !
But what thou mean'st, I 'd have thee own,
That in such horrors art abiding,
Amid these yawning jags of stone ?
It was not here I learned to know them well ;
Such was, indeed, the bottom-ground of Hell.
FAUST.
In foolish legends thou art never lacking ; Again thy store thou set'st about unpacking.
MEPHISTOPHELES {seriously). When God the Lord — wherefore, I also know, -^ Banned us from air to darkness deep and central, Where round and round, in fierce, intensest glow, Eternal fires were whirled in Earth's hot entrail, We found ourselves too much illuminated. Yet crowded and uneasily situated. The Devils all set up a coughing, sneezing,
^
230 FAUST.
At every vent without cessation wheezing : With sulphur-stench and acids Hell dilated, And ^uch enormous gas was thence created, That very soon Earth's level, far extended, Thick as it was, was heaved, and split, and rended ! The thing is plain, no theories o'ercome it : What formerly was bottom, now is summit. Hereon they base the law there 's no disputing, To give the undermost the topmost footing : For we escaped from fiery dungeons there To overplus of lordship of the air ; — A mystery manifest and well concealed,'3i And to the people only late revealed.
FAUST.
To me are mountain-masses grandly dumb : I ask not. Whence ? and ask not. Why ? they come. When Nature in herself her being founded. Complete and perfect then the globe she rounded, Glad of the summits and the gorges deep. Set rock to rock, and mountain steep to steep. The hills with easy outlines downward moulded. Till gently from their feet the vales unfolded ! They green and grow ; with joy therein she ranges, Requiring no insane, convulsive changes.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Yes, so you talk ! You think it clear as sun ; But he knows otherwise, who saw it done. For I was there, while still below was surging The red abyss, and streamed the flaming tide, — When Moloch's hammer, welding rocks and forging. Scattered the mountain-ruins far and wide. O'er all the land the foreign blocks you spy there ; =^32 Who solves the force that hurled them to their place ?
ACT IV. 231
The lore of learned men is all awry there ;
There lies the rock, and we must let it lie there ;
We 've thought already — to our own disgrace.
Only the common, faithful people know,
And nothing shakes them in their firm believing :
Their wisdom ripened long ago, —
A marvel 't is, of Satan's own achieving.
On crutch of faith my traveller climbs the ridges,
Past Devil's Rocks and over Devil's Bridges.
FAUST.
Well, — 't is remarkable and new To note how Devils Nature view.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
What 's all to me ? Her shape let Nature wear !
The point of honor is, the Devil was there !
We are the folk to compass grand designs :
Tumult, and Force, and Nonsense ! See the signs ! —
Yet now, with sober reason to address thee,
Did nothing on our outride shell impress thee ?
From this exceeding height thou saw'st unfurled
The glory of the Kingdoms of the World.*33
Yet, as thou art, unsatisfied.
Didst feel no lust of power and pride ?
FAUST.
I did ! A mighty plan my fancy won : Canst guess it .?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
That is quickly done. I 'd take some town, — a capital, perchance, — ' Its core, the people's need of sustenance ; With crooked alleys, pointed gables. Beets, cabbage, onions, on the market-tables ;
232 FAUST.
With meat-stands, where the blue flies muster,
And round fat joints hke gourmands cluster :
There shalt thou find, undoubtedly,
Stench, always, and activity.
Then ample squares, and streets whose measure
Assumes an air of lordly leisure ;
And last, without a gate to bar,
The boundless suburbs stretching far.
'T were joy to see the coaches go,
The noisy crowding to and fro,
The endless running, hither, thither,
Of scattered ants that stream together :
And whether walking, driving, riding.
Ever their central point abiding.
Honored by thousands, should be I.
FAUST.
Therewith I would not be contented ! One hkes to see the people multiply. And in their wise with comfort fed, — Developed even, taught, well-bied. Yet one has only, when all 's said. The sum of rebels thus augmented.^34
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Then I should build, with conscious power and grace, A pleasure-castle in a pleasant place ; Where hill and forest, level, meadow, field. Grandly transformed, should park and garden yield. Before green walls of foliage velvet meadows. With ordered paths and artful-falling shadows ; Plunge of cascades o'er rocks with skill combined, And fountain-jets of every form and kind. There grandly shooting upwards from the middle, While round the sides ^ thousand spirt and piddle.
ACT IV. 233
Then for the fairest women, fresh and rosy,
I 'd build a lodge, convenient and cosey ;
And so the bright and boundless time I should ,^u •
Pass in the lovehest social solitude. ^ ^. ^ ^''
Women, I say ; and, once for all, believe
That in the plural I the sex conceive !
FAUST.
Sardanapalus ! Modem, — poor !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Then might one guess whereunto thou hast striven ? Boldly-sublime it was, I 'm sure. Since nearer to the moon thy flight was driven, Would now thy mania that realm secure 1
FAUST.
Not so ! This sphere of earthly soil Still gives us room for lofty doing. Astounding plans e'en now are brewing : I feel new strength for bolder toil.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
So, thou wilt Glory earn ? 'T is plain to see That heroines have been thy company.
FAUST.
Power and Estate to win, inspires my thought ! The Deed is everything, the Glory naught.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Yet Poets shall proclaim the matter, Thy fame to future ages flatter, By folly further folly scatter !
234
FAUST.
FAUST.
All that is far beyond thy reach. How canst thou know what men beseech ? Thy cross-grained self, in malice banned, How can it know what men demand ?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
According to thy will so let it be ! Confide the compass of thy whims to me !
FAUST.
Mine eye was drawn to view the open Ocean : ^3S It swelled aloft, self-heaved and over-vaulting. And then withdrew, and shook its waves in motion^ Again the breadth of level strand assaulting. Then I was vexed, since arrogance can spite The spirit free, which values every right, And through excited passion of the blood Discomfort it, as did the haughty flood. I thought it chance, my vision did I strain ; The billow paused, then thundered, back again. Retiring from the goal so proudly won : The hour returns, the sport 's once more begun.
MEPHISTOPHELES (ad spectatores). 'T is nothing new whatever that one hears ; I 've known it many a hundred thousand years.
FAUST {continuing impassionedly). The Sea sweeps on, in thousand quarters flowing, Itself unfruitful, barrenness bestowing ; It breaks and swells, and rolls, and overwhelms The desert stretch of desolated realms.
ACT IV.
235
There endless waves hold sway, in strength erected And then withdrawn, — and nothing is effected. If aught could drive me to despair, 't were, truly The aimless force of elements unruly. Then dared my mind its dreams to over-soar : Here would I fight, — subdue this fierce uproar ! And possible 't is ! — Howe'er the tides may fill, They gently fawn around the steadfast hill ; A moderate height resists and drives asunder, A moderate depth allures and leads them on.
So, swiftly, plans within my mind were drawn : v:,i
Let that high joy be mine forevermore, v^
To shut the lordly Ocean from the shore. The watery waste to limit and to bar. And push it back upon itself afar ! From step to step I settled how to fight it : Such is my wish : dare thou to expedite it ! "^ [Drums and martial music in the^rear of the spectators , fr&nt the distance^ on the right hand. )
MEPHISTOPHELES.
How easy, that ! — Hear'st thou the drums afar ?
FAUST.
Who 's wise likes not to hear of coming war.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
In War or Peace, 't is wise to use the chance, And draw some profit from each circumstance. One watches, marks the moment, and is bold : Here 's opportunity! — ^^now, Faust, take hold !
FAUST.
Spare me the squandering of thy riddle-pelf ! What means it, once for all 1 Explain thyself !
2Z6
FA UST.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Upon my way, to me it was discovered
That mighty troubles o'er the Emperor hovered :
Thou knowest him. The while we twain, beside him,
With wealth illusive bounteously supplied him,
Then all the world was to be had for pay ;
For as a youth he held imperial sway.
And he was pleased to try it, whether
Both interests would not smoothly pair,
Since 't were desirable and fair
To govern and enjoy, together.
FAUST.
A mighty error ! He who would command Must in commanding find his highest blessing : Then, let his breast with force of will expand. But what he wills, be past another's guessing! What to his faithful he^liath whispered, that Is turned to act, and men amaze thereat : Thus will he ever be the highest-placed And worthiest ! — Enjoyment makes debased.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Such is he not ! He did tn)oy, even he !
Meanwhile the realm was torn by anarchy,
Where great and small were warring with each other.
And brother drove and slaughtered brother,
Castle to castle, town 'gainst town arrayed.
The nobles and the guilds of trade.
The Bishop, with his chapter and congregation, —
All meeting eyes but looked retahation.
In churches death and murder ; past the gates,
The merchants travelled under evil fates ;
And all grew bolder, since no rule was drawn
For life, but : Self-defence ! — So things went on.
ACT IV. 237
FAUST.
They went, they limped, they fell, arose again, Then tumbled headlong, and in heaps remain.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Such a condition no man dared abuse.
Each would be something, each set forth his dues ;
The smallest even as full-measured passed :
Yet for the best it grew too bad at last.
The Capable, they then arose with energy.
And said : " Who gives us Peace, shall ruler be.
The Emperor can and will not ! — Be elected
An Emperor new, anew the realm directed.
Each one secure and sheltered stand.
And in a fresh-constructed land
Justice and Peace be mated and perfected ! "
FAUST.
Priest-like, that sounds.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Priests were they, to be sure ; They meant their well-fed bellies to secure ; They, more than all, therein were implicated. '3<5 The riot rose, the riot was consecrated. And now our Emperor, whom we gave delight, Comes hitherward, perchance for one last fight.
FAUST.
I pity him ; he was so frank, forgiving.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Come, we '11 look on ! There 's hope while one is living ! Let us release him from this narrow valley ! He 's saved a thousand times, if once he rally.
238 FAUST.
Who knows how yet the dice may fall ? If he has fortune, vassals come withal.
[ They cross over the middle range of mountains, and view the arrangement of the army in the valley. Drums and mili- tary music resound from below-l
MEPHISTOPHELES.
A good position is, I see, secured them ; We '11 join, then victory will be assured them.
FAUST.
What further, I should like to know ? Cheat ! Blind delusion ! Hollow show !
7^ MEPHISTOPHELES.
No, — stratagems, for battle-winning ! Be steadfast for the grand beginning. And think upon thy lofty aim ! If we secure the realm its rightful claimant, Then shalt thou boldly kneel, and claim The boundless strand in feoff, as payment.
FAUST.
In many arts didst thou excel : Come, win a battle now, as well !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
No, thou shalt win it ! Here, in brief, Shalt thou be General-in-Chief.
FAUST.
A high distinction thou wouldst lend, —
There to command, where naught I comprehend .*
ACT IV. ^ MEPHISTOPHELES.
Leave to the Sta£E the work and blame, Then the Field-Marshal 's sure of fame ! Of War-Uncouncils I have had enough, And my War-Council fashion of the stuff Of primal mountains' primal human might : He 's blest, for whom its elements unite !
FAUST.
What do I see, with arms, in yonder place ? Hast thou aroused the mountain-race ?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
No ! But I 've brought, like Peter Squence/37 From all the raff the quintessence.
The Three Mighty Men appear.^i^
MEPHISTOPHELES.
My fellows draw already near !
Thou seest, of very different ages.
Of different garb and armor they appear :
They will not serve thee ill when battle rages.
{Ad spec tutor es.) Now every child delights to see The harness and the helm of knightly action ■• And allegoric, as the blackguards be. They '11 only all the more give satisfaction.
BULLY (young, lightly armed, clad in motley). When one shall meet me, face to face. My fisticuffs shall on his chops be showered ; And midway in his headlong race, Fast by his flying hair I '11 catch the coward.
239
240
FAUST.
HAVEQUICK (manly, well-armed^ richly clad). Such empty brawls are only folly ! They spoil whate'er occasion brings. In taking, be unwearied wholly, And after, look to other things !
HOLDFAST {well in years, strongly-armed, without raiment). Yet little gain thereafter lingers ! Soon slips great wealth between your fingers, Borne by the tides of Life as down they run. 'T is well to take, indeed, but better still to hold Be by the gray old churl controlled. And thou shalt plundered be by none. ( They descend the mountain together.)
ACT IV.
241
II.
ON THE HEADLAND.^39
Drums and military music from below. The Emperor's tent is pitched.
Emperor. General-in-Chief, Life-Guardsmen.
general-in-chief.
IT still appears the prudentest of courses That here, in this appropriate vale, We have withdrawn and strongly massed our forces : I firmly trust we shall not fail.
emperor. What comes of it will soon be brought to light ; Yet I dislike this yielding, semi-flight.
GENERAL-IN-CHIEF.
Look down, my Prince, where our right flank is planted ! The field which War desires hath here been granted : Not steep the hills, yet access not preparing, To us advantage, to the foe insnaring ; Their cavalry will hardly dare surround Our strength half hid, on undulating ground.
EMPEROR.
My commendation, only, need I speak ; Now arm and courage have the test they seek. VOL. n. II
242 FA UST.
GENERAL-IN-CHIEF.
Here, on the middle meadow's level spaces Thou seest the phalanx, eager in their places. In air the lances gleam and sparkle, kissed By sunshine, through the filmy morning mist. How darkling sways the grand and powerful square ! The thousands burn for great achievements there. Therein canst thou perceive the strength of masses ; And thine, be sure, the foemen's strength surpasses.
EMPEROR.
Now first do I enjoy the stirring sight : An army, thus, appears of double might.
GENERAL-IN-CHIEF.
But of our left I 've no report to make.
Brave heroes garrison the rocky brake ;
The stony cliffs, by gleams of weapons specked,
The entrance to the close defile protect.
Here, as I guess, the foemen's force will shatter.
Forced unawares upon the bloody matter.
EMPEROR.
And there they march, false kin, one like the other ! Even as they styled me Uncle, Cousin, Brother, Assuming more, and ever more defying. The sceptre's power, the throne's respect, denying; Then, in their feuds, the realm they devastated, And now as Rebels march, against me mated ! Awhile with halting minds the masses go, Then ride the stream, wherever it may flow.
GENERAL-IN-CHIEF.
A faithful man, sent out some news to win, Comes down the rocks : may he have lucky been !
ACT IV. 243
FIRST SPY.
Luckily have we succeeded ;
Helped by bold and cunning art,
Here and there have pressed, and heeded,
But 't is ill news we impart.
Many, purest homage pledging.
Like the faithful, fealty swore, —
For inertness now alleging
People's danger, strife in store.
EMPEROR.
They learn from selfishness self-preservation,
Not duty, honor, grateful inclination.
You do not think that, when your reckoning 's shown,
The neighbor's burning house shall fire your own !
GENERAL-IN-CHIEF.
The Second comes, descending slowly hither ; A weary man, whose strength appears to wither.
SECOND SPY.
First with comfort we detected What their plan confused was worth ; Then, at once and unexpected. Came another Emperor forth. As he bids, in ordered manner March the gathering hosts away ; His unfolded lying banner All have followed. — Sheep are they !
EMPEROR.
Now, by a Rival Emperor shall I gain : That / am Emperor, thus to me is plain.
244 FAUST.
But as a soldier I the mail put on ; Now for a higher aim the sword be drawn ! At all my shows, however grand to see, Did nothing lack : but Danger lacked, to me. Though you but tilting at the ring suggested, My heart beat high to be in tourney tested ; And had you not from war my mind dissuaded, For glorious deeds my name were now paraded. But independence then did I acquire, . When I stood mirrored in the realm of fire : In the dread element I dared to stand ; — 'T was but a show, and yet the show was grand. Of fame and victory I have dreamed alone ; But for the base neglect 1 now atone !
( The Heralds are despatched to challenge the Rival Emperor to single combat.)
Faust enters, in armor, with half-closed visor. The THREE Mighty Men, armed and clothed, as already described.
FAUST.
We come, and hope our coming is not chidden ;
Prudence may help, though by the need unbidden.
The mountain race, thou know'st, think and explore, —
Of Nature and the rocks they read the lore.
The Spirits, forced from the level land to sever.
Are of the rocky hills more fain than ever.
Silent, they work through labyrinthine passes,
In rich, metallic fumes of noble gases.
On solving, testing, blending, most intent :
Their only passion, something to invent.
With gentle touch of spiritual power
They build transparent fabrics, hour by hour ;
For they, in crystals and their silence, furled,'''"
Behold events that rule the Upper World.
ACT IV. EMPEROR.
I understand it, and can well agree ;
But say, thou gallant man, what 's that to me ?
FAUST.
The Sabine old, the Norcian necromancer,*4i Thy true and worthy servant, sends thee answer : What fearful fate it was, that overhung him ! The fagots crackled, fire already stung him ; The billets dry were closely round him fixed. With pitch and rolls of brimstone intermixed ; Not Man, nor God, nor Devil, him could save, — The Emperor plucked him from his fiery grave. It was in Rome. Still is he bound unto thee ; Upon thy path his anxious thoughts pursue thee ; Himself since that dread hour forgotten, he Questions the stars, the depths, alone for thee. Us he commissioned, by the swiftest courses Thee to assist. Great are the mountain's forces ; There Nature works ail-potently and free, Though stupid priests therein but magic see.
EMPEROR.
On days of joy, when we the guests are greeting, Who for their gay delight are gayly meeting, Each gives us pleasure, as they push and pull, And crowd, man after man, the chambers full ; Yet chiefly welcome is the brave man, thus, When as a bold ally he brings to us Now, in the fateful morning hour, his talents, While Destiny uplifts her trembling balance. Yet, while the fates of this high hour unfold, Thy strong hand from the willing sword withhold, Honor the moment, when the hosts are striding, For or against me, to the field deciding !
245
246
FA UST.
Self is the Man ! ''^^ Who crown and throne would claim
Must personally be worthy of the same.
And may the Phantom, which against us stands,
The self-styled Emperor, Lord of all our lands,
The army's Duke, our Princes' feudal head,
With mine own hand be hurled among the dead ! '
FAUST.
Howe'er the need that thy great work be finished. Risked were thy head, the chances were diminished. Is not the helm adorned with plume and crest ? The head it shields, that steels our courage best. Without a head, what should the members bridle ? Let it but sleep, they sink supine and idle. If it be injured, all the hurt confess in 't, And all revive, when it is convalescent. Then soon the arm its right shall reassert, And lift the shield to save the skull from hurt : The sword perceives at once its honored trust. Parries with vigor, and repeats the thrust : The gallant foot its shate of luck will gain, And plants itself upon the necks of slain.
EMPEROR.
Such is my wrath ; I 'd meet him thus, undaunted, And see his proud head as my footstool planted !
HERALDS {returning). Little honor was accorded ; We have met with scorn undoubted : Our defiance, nobly worded. As an empty farce they flouted : " Lo, your Lord is but a vision, — Echo of a vanished prime : When we name him, says Tradition : ' He was — once upon a time / ' "
ACT IV. 247
FAUST.
It 's happened as the best would fain have planned, Who, firm and faithful, still beside thee stand. There comes the foe, thy army waits and wishes ; Order attack ! the moment is auspicious.
EMPEROR.
Yet I decline to exercise command. •
{ To the General-in-Chief.) Thy duty, Prince, be trusted to thy hand !
GENERAL-IN-CHIEF.
Then let the right wing now advance apace ! The enemy's left, who just begin ascending, Shall, ere the movement close, give up their place, Before the youthful force our field defending.
FAUST.
Permit me, then, that this gay hero may Be stationed in thy ranks, without delay, — That with thy men most fully he consort. And thus incorporate, ply his vigorous sport !
{He points to the MiGHTY Man on the right.)
BULLY {coming forward) ^^^ Who shows his face to me, before he turn Shall find his cheekbones and his chops are shattered : Who shows his back, one sudden blow shall earn, Then head and pig-tail dangling hang, and battered ! And if thy men, Hke me, will lunge With mace and sword, beside each other, Man over man the foe shall plunge And in their own deep blood shall smother !
[Exit.
248
FA UST.
GENERAL-IN-CHIEF.
Let then our centre phalanx follow slow, — Engage with caution, yet with might, the foe ! There to the right, already overtaken, Our furious force their plan has rudely shaken !
FAUST {pointing to the middle one). Let also this oi^e now obey thy word !
HAVEQUICK [comes forward). Unto the host's heroic duty Shall now be joined the thirst for booty ; And be the goal, where all are sent. The Rival Emperor's sumptuous tent ! He shall not long upon his seat be lorded : To lead the phalanx be to me accorded !
SPEEDBOOTY
{sutleress, fawning tipon him).
Though never tied to him by priest.
He is my sweetheart dear, at least.
Our autumn 't is, of ripest gold !
Woman is fierce when she takes hold,
And when she robs, is merciless :
All is allowed, so forth to victory press !
\Exeunt both.
GENERAL-IN-CHIEF.
Upon our left, as was to be foreseen.
Their right is strongly hurled. Yon rocks between,
Ours will resist their furious beginning.
And hinder them the narrow pass from winning.
FAUST {beckons to the MiGHTY Man on the left). I beg you. Sire, let this one also aid ; 'T is well when even the strong are stronger made.
ACT IV.
HOLDFAST {coming forwards). Now let the left wing have no fear ! The ground is surely held, where I appear : I am the Ancient you were told of : No lightning splits what I keep hold of !
249
\Exit.
MEPHISTOPHELES ( descending from above ) .
And now behold, how, more remote, From every jagged rocky throat Comes forth an armdd host, increasing, Down every narrow pathway squeezing, With helm and harness, sword and spear, A Hving rampart in our rear. And wait the sign to charge the foemen !
{Aside, to the knowing ones.)
You must not ask whence comes the omen.
I have not been a careless scout,
But cleared the halls of armor round about.
They stood a-foot, they sat on horses.
Like Lords of Earth and real forces :
Once Emperors, Kings, and Knights were they.
Now empty shells, — the snails have crawled away.
Full many ghosts, arrayed so, have for us
Revamped the Middle Ages thus.
Whatever Devils now the shells select,
This once 't will still create effect.
{Aloud.)
Hark ! in advance they stir their anger. Each jostling each with brassy clangor ! The banner-rags of standards flutter flowing, That restless waited for the breeze's blowing. II*
250
FA UST.
Here standeth ready, now, an ancient race ; In the new conflict it would fain have place.
I Tremendous peal of trumpets from above : a perceptMe waver' ing in the hostile army.)
FAUST. The near horizon dims and darkles ; Yet here and there with meaning sparkles A ruddy and presaging glow ; ^^4 The blades are red where strife is sorest. The atmosphere, the rocks, the forest, The very heavens the combat show.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
The right flank holds its ground with vigor : There, towering over all, defiant. Jack Bully works, the nimble giant, And drives them with his wonted rigor.
EMPEROR.
I first beheld one arm uplifted.
But now a dozen tossed and shifted :
Unnatural such things appear.
FAUST.
Hast thou not heard of vapors banded. O'er the Sicilian coasts expanded .'' There, hovering in daylight clear. When mid-air gleams in rarer phases, And mirrored in especial hazes, A vision wonderful awakes : There back and forth are cities bending, With gardens rising and descending. As form on form the ether breaks.
ACT IV. 251
EMPEROR.
Yet how suspicious ! I behold
The tall spears tipped with gleams of gold :
Upon our phalanx' shining lances
A nimble host of flamelets dances :
Too spectral it appears to me.
FAUST.
Pardon me, Lord, those are the traces
Of spirits of the vanished races, —
The fires of Pollux and of Castor,
Whom seamen call on in disaster :
They here collect their final strength for thee.
EMPEROR.
But say, to whom are we indebted. That Nature hath our plans abetted. With shows of rarest potency?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
To whom, indeed, but that old Roman
Whose care for thee at last is proved ?
By the strong menace of thy foemen
His deepest nature has been moved.
His gratitude would see thee now delivered.
Though his own being for thy sake be shivered.
EMPEROR.
They cheered my march, with every pomp invested ;
I felt my power, I meant to see it tested ;
So, carelessly, I found it well, as ruler,
To send the white beard where the air was cooler.
I robbed the Clergy of a pleasant savor.
And, truly, have not thus acquired their favor.
252
FAUST.
Shall I, at last, since many years are over, The payment for that merry deed recover ?
FAUST.
Free-hearted help heaps interest : Look up, and cease to watch the foemen ! ' Methinks that he will send an omen : Attend ! the sign is now expressed. ^«
EMPEROR.
An Eagle hovers in the heavenly vault : A Griffin follows, menacing assault.
FAUST.
Give heed ! It seems most favorable. The Griffin is a beast of fable : How dare he claim a rival regal, And meet in fight a genuine Eagle ?
EMPEROR.
And now, in circles wide extended. They wheel involved, — then, Uke a flashy Upon each other swiftly dash, That necks be cleft and bodies rended !
FAUST.
Mark now the evil Griffin quail ! Rumpled and torn, the foe he feareth. And with his drooping lion's-tail. Plunged in tlie tree-tops, disappeareth.
EMPEROR.
Even as presaged, so may it be ! I take the sign, admiringly.
m
ACT IV. 253
MEPHISTOPHELES {towards the right). From the force of blows repeated Have our enemies retreated ; And in fight uncertain, shifting, Towards their right they now are drifting, Thus confusing, by their courses, All the left flank of their forces. See ! our phalanx, firmly driven, Moves to right, and, like the levin, Strikes them in the weak position. — Now, like waves in wild collision. Equal powers, with rage opposing, In the double fight are closing. Gloriously the weapons rattle ; We, at last have won the battle !
EMPEROR {on the left, to Faust). Look ! it yonder seems suspicious ; For our post the luck 's capricious. Not a stone I see them throw there ; Mounted are the rocks below there, And the upper ones deserted. Now ! — to one huge mass converted Nearer moves the foe, unshaken, And perchance the pass hath taken. Such the unholy plan's conclusion ! All your arts are but delusion. Pause.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
There come my ravens, croaking presage ; What nature, then, may be their message ? I fear we stand in evil plight.
V
254
FA UST. EMPEROR.
What mean these fatal birds enchanted ? Their inky sails are hither slanted, Hot from the rocky field of fight.
MEPHISTOPHELES {to the Ravens). Sit at mine ears, your flight retarded ! He is not lost whom you have guarded ; Your counsel 's logical and right.
FAUST {to the Emperor). Thou hast, of course, been told of pigeons. Taught to return from distant regions To nests upon their native coast. Here, differently, the plan 's succeeded ; The pigeon-post for Peace is needed, But War requires the raven-post
MEPHISTOPHELES.
The birds announce us sore mischances. See, yonder, how the foe advances Against our heroes' rocky wall, The nearest heights even now attaining ! Should they succeed the pass in gaining. Our fortunes, then, were critical.
EMPEROR.
Defeat and cheat at last are on me ! Into your meshes you have drawn me : I shudder, since they bind me fast.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Courage ! Not yet the die is cast. Patience and knack, for knot-untying ! The close will be the fiercest stand.
ACT IV. 255
Sure messengers for me are flying : Command that I may give command !
GENERAL-IN-CHIEF
{who has meanwhile arrived). To follow these hast thou consented ; Thence all the time was I tormented : No fortune comes of jugglery. The battle 's lost, I cannot mend it ; 'T was they began, and they may end it : My baton I return to thee.
EMPEROR.
Retain it for the better season Which Fortune still to us may send ! I dread the customers with reason, — The ravens and their ugly friend. ( To Mephistopheles.) As for the baton, thou must leave it ; Thou 'rt not, methinks, the proper man. Command the fight, canst thou retrieve it ! Let happen all that happen can !
[Exit into the tent with the Gen ERAL-IN -CHIEF.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
The blunt stick still be his protection ! 'T would naught avail in our direction ; There was a sort of Cross thereon.
FAUST.
What 's to be done ?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
The thing is done ! ^<* — Now, my black cousins, speed upon your duties
256
FAUST.
To the mountain-lake ! The Undines, watery beauties, Entreat, the appearance of their floods to spare ! By female arts, beyond our sharpest seeing. They can divide the Appearance from the Being, And all will swear the Being 's there ! Pause.
FAUST. Our ravens must, with flattery beladen. Have sweetly coaxed each winsome water-maiden ; The trickhng streams at once descend. The bald and rocky shoulders of the mountains Give birth to full and swiftly-flowing fountains ; Their victory is at an end.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
To such reception they 're not used : The boldest climbers grow confused.
FAUST.
Now brook roars down to brook with mighty bubble ; Then from the mouths of glens they issue double. And fling themselves, in arches, o'er the pale ; Then suddenly spread along the rocky level. And to and fro foam onward in their revel. As down a stairway hurled into the vale. What boots their gallant, hero-like resistance ? The billow bursts, and bears them down the distance ; Before such wild uproar even I must quail.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Nothing I see of all this moist illusion : To human eyes, alone, it brings confusion. And in the wondrous chance I take delight. They fly in headlong, hurried masses ;
ACT IV. 257
That they are drowning, think the asses : Though on the solid land, they see an ocean, And run absurdly with a swimming motion. It is a most bewildering plight.
( The Ravens return.) To the high Master will I praise you duly ; But would you test yourselves as masters fully, Then hasten to that smithy eerie, Where the dwarf-people, never weary, Hammer the sparks from ore and stone. Demand, while there you prate and flatter, A fire to shine, and shoot, and scatter, As in the highest sense 't is known. 'T is true that distant lightning, quivering far-lights, And falling, quick as wink, of highest star-lights. May happen any summer night ; But lightning, loose among the tangled bushes, And stars that hiss and fizzle in the rushes. Are shows that seldom meet the sight. Take no great pains, you understand ; But first entreat, and then command !
( Exeunt the Ravens. All takes place as prescribed.) Upon the foe falls Night's thick curtain, And step and march become uncertain ! In every quarter wandering blazes. And sudden glare, that blinds and dazes ! All that seems fine ; yet we should hear Their wild, commingled cries of fear.
FAUST.
The hollow armor from the vaulted chambers In the free air its ancient strength remembers : It rattles there, and clatters all around, — A wonderful, a cheating sound.
Q
258 FAUST.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Quite right ! The forms there 's no restraining :
Already knightly whacks are raining,
As in the splendid times of old.
The brassarts there, as well as cuisses,
Are Guelfs and GhibelHnes ; and this is
Renewal of the feud they hold.
Firm in transmitted hate they anchor,
And show implacably their rancor :
Now far and wide the noise hath rolled.
At last, the Devils find a hearty
Advantage in the hate of Party,
Till dread and ruin end the tale :
Repulsive sounds of rage and panic.
With others, piercing and Satanic,
Resound along the frightened vale !
( Warlike tumult in the Orchestra^ finally passing into lively martial measures. )
ACT IV.
259
III.
THE RIVAL EMPEROR'S TENT.
Throne: Rich Surroundings.
Havequick. Speedbooty.
speedbooty. 00, we are here the first, I see !
HAVEQUICK.
No raven flies so swift as we.
SPEEDBOOTY.
O, how the treasure-piles extend ! Where shall I once begin ? where end "i
HAVEQUICK.
But all the space is full ! And now I know not what to take, I vow !
SPEEDBOOTY.
This carpet is the thing I need ! My couch is often hard indeed.
HAVEQUICK.
Here hangs a morning-star, so strong, The like of which I 've wanted long.
SPEEDBOOTY.
This crimson mantle, bound with gold. Is like the one my dreams foretold.
26o FAUST.
HAVEQUICK {taking the weapon). With this, a man is quickly sped ; One strikes him dead, and goes ahead. Thou art already laden so, And nothing right thy sack can show. This rubbish, rather, here forsake. And one of yonder caskets take ! The army's modest pay they hold, Their belhes full of purest gold.
SPEEDBOOTY.
0 what a murderous weight is there !
1 cannot lift it, cannot bear.
HAVEQUICK.
Quick, bend and squat to take the pack ! I '11 heave it on thy sturdy back.
SPEEDBOOTY.
O me ! Alack ! the burden slips : The weight has crushed my back and hips. {The chest falls and bursts open.)
HAVEQUICK.
There Hes the red gold in a heap !
Quick, rake and take what thou canst keep !
SPEEDBOOTY {crouching down ) . Quick, let the booty fill my lap ! 'T will still be quite enough, mayhap.
HAVEQUICK.
So ! there 's enough ! Now haste, and go !
{She rises.) The apron has a hole, ah woe !
ACT IV. 261
Wherever thou dost walk or stand, Thou sowest treasure on the land."'^
GUARDSMEN {of our EmpeROr).
What seek ye here with wanton eyes ? Ye rummage the Imperial prize !
HAVEQUICK.
"W e hazarded our limbs for pay, And now we take our share of prey. In hostile tents 't is always so, And we are soldiers too, you know.
GUARDSMEN.
Among our troops he comes to grief Who 's both a soldier and a thief : Who serves our Emperor fair and free, Let him an honest soldier be !
HAVEQUICK.
0 yes ! such honesty we know : 'T is Contribution, — call it so ! "*^
In the same mould you all are made .
" Give ! " is the password of your trade.
(71? Speedbooty.)
With what thou hast, the coast we '11 clear :
As guests we are not welcome here.
[Exeunt.
FIRST GUARDSMAN.
Why didst thou not at once bestow On the scamp's face a smashing blow ?
SECOND.
1 know not, — had not strength to strike ; They seemed to me so phantom-like.
262 FAUST.
THIRD.
Something there was disturbed my sight, — A flash : I could not see aright.
FOURTH.
I, also, can declare it not :
The whole day long it was so hot,
So sultry, close, and terrible ;
One man stood firm, another fell ;
We groped and fought, with valor rash,
The foemen fell at every slash ;
Before one's eyes there was a mist,
And something roared, and hummed, and hissed ;
So to the end, and here are we,
And how it happened, cannot see.
( The Emperor enters, accompanied by Four Princes. The Guardsmen retire.)
EMPEROR.^49
Now fare he, as he may ! For us is won the battle. And o'er the plain the foe have fled like frightened cattle. The trait'rous treasure, here, the empty throne, we 've
found, That, hung with tapestry, contracts the space around. Enthroned in honor we, true guardsmen us protecting, The people's envoys are imperially expecting. The messengers of joy arrive from every side, And, loyal now to us, the realm is pacified. Though in our fight, perchance, some jugglery was woven, Yet, at the last, our own unaided strength we 've proven. True, accidents sometimes for combatants are good ; A stone may fall from heaven, on foes a shower of blood •, From rocky caves may ring tremendous strains of wonder, That lift our hearts with faith, and drive the foe asunder.
ACT IV. 263
The Conquered yielded, scourged by Scorn's immortal
rod; The Victor, as he boasts, exalts the favoring God ; And all responsive shout, unordered, unentreated : " We praise Thee, God our Lord ! " from million throats
repeated. Yet as the highest praise, so rarely else expressed, I turn my pious glance on mine own grateful breast. A young and lively Prince may give his days to pleasure ; Him teach the years, at last, the moment's use to measure. Therefore, without delay, I call ye, for support. Beside me, worthy Four, in realm and house and court.
{To the First.)
Thine was, O Prince ! the host's arrangement, wise in- spection. Then, in the nick of time, heroic, bold direction : Act now in peace, as Time thine offices may show ! Arch-Marshal shalt thou be : the sword I here bestow.
ARCH-MARSHAL.
Thy faithful host, till now employed for civil order. Thee and thy throne secured, shall strengthen next thy
border : Then let us be allowed, when festal throngs are poured Through thine ancestral halls, to dress for thee the board. Before thee brightly borne, and brightly held beside thee. Thy Majesty's support, the sword shall guard and guide
thee !
EMPEROR {to the Second). He who as gallant man can also gracious be, Thou, — be Arch-Chamberlain! — not Hght the place,
for thee. Thou art the highest now of all the house-retainers
264 FAUST.
Whose strife makes service bad, — the threateners and
complainers : Let thy example be an honored sign to these, How they the Prince and Court, and all, should seek to
please !
ARCH-CHAMBERLAIN.
To speed thy high design, thy grace is fair precursor : The Better to assist, and injure not the Worser, — Be frank, yet cunning not, and calm without deceit ! If thou but read my heart, I 'm honored as is meet. But let my fancy now to festal service hasten ! Thou goest to the board, I bear the golden basin. And hold thy rings for thee, that on such bhssful days Thy hands may be refreshed, as I beneath thy gaze.
EMPEROR.
Too serious am I still, to plan such celebration ; Yet be it so ! We need a glad inauguration.
( 7b //^^ Third.)
I choose thee Arch-High-Steward! Therefore hence- forth be
Chase, poultry-yard, and manor subject unto thee !
Give me at all times choice of dishes I delight in.
As with the month they come, and cooked with appe- tite in!
ARCH-HIGH-STEWARD.
A rigid fast shall be the penalty I wish.
Until before thee stands a goodly-savored dish.
The kitchen-folk shall join, and gladly heed my reasons
To bring the distant near and expedite the seasons.
Yet rare and early things shall not delight thee long :
Thy taste desires, instead, the simple and the strong.
ACT IV. 265
EMPEROR [to the FOURTH ).
Since here, perforce, we plan but feasts, and each is sharer, Be thou for me transformed, young hero, to Cup-bearer ! Arch Cup-Bearer, take heed, that all those vaults of mine Richly replenished be with noblest taps of wine ! Be temperate thyself, howe'er temptation presses. Nor let occasion's lure mislead thee to excesses !
ARCH CUP-BEARER.
My Prince, the young themselves, if trust in them be
shown, Are, ere one looks around, already men full-grown. I at the lordly feast shall also take my station. And give thy sideboard's pomp the noblest decoration Of gorgeous vessels, golden, silver, grand to see ; Yet first the fairest cup will I select for thee, — A clear Venetian glass, good cheer within it waiting. Helping the taste of wine, yet ne'er intoxicating. One oft confides too much on such a treasured store : Thy moderation, though. High Lord, protects thee more.
EMPEROR.
What, in this earnest hour, for you have I intended, From vaHd mouth confidingly you 've comprehended. The Emperor's word is great, his gift is therefore sure, But needs, for proper force, his written signature : The high sign-manual fails. Here, for commission
needful, I see the right man come, of the right moment heedful
( The Archbishop- Arch-Chancellor enters.)
EMPEROR.
If in the keystone of the arch the vault confide, 'T is then securely built, for endless time and tide. VOL. ij. 12
266 FAUST.
Thou seest Four Princes here ! To them we 'v^ just
expounded How next our House and Court shall be more stably
founded. Now, all the realm contains, within its bounds enclosed. Shall be, with weight and power, upon Ye Five imposed ! Your landed wealth shall be before all others splendid ; Therefore at once have I your properties extended From their inheritance, who raised 'gainst us the hand. You I award, ye Faithful, many a lovely land. Together with the right, as you may have occasion. To spread them by exchange, or purchase, or invasion : Then be it clearly fixed, that you unhindered use Whate'er prerogatives have been the landlord's dues. When ye, as Judges, have the final sentence spoken. By no appeal from your high Court shall it be broken : Then levies, tax and rent, pass-money, tolls and fees Are yours, — of mines and salt and coin the royalties. That thus my gratitude may validly be stated. You next to Majesty hereby I 've elevated.
ARCHBISHOP.
In deepest thanks to thee we humbly all unite : Thou mak'st us strong and sure, and strengthenest thy might.
EMPEROR.
Yet higher dignities I give for your fulfilling. Still for my realm I live, and still to live am willing; Yet old ancestral lines compel the prudent mind To look from present deeds to that which looms behind I, also, in my time, must meet the sure Redresser; Your duty be it, then, to choose me a successor. Crowned, at the altar raise his consecrated form. That so may end in peace what here began in storm .'
ACT IV. 267
ARCH-CHANCELLOR.
With pride profound, yet humbly, as our guise evinces, Behold, before thee bowed, the first of earthly princes ! So long the faithful blood our living veins shall fill, We are the body which obeys thy lightest will.
EMPEROR.
Now, to conclude, let all that we have here asserted. Be, for the future time, to document converted ! 'T is true that ye, as lords, have your possession free. With this condition, though, that it unparcelled be ; And what ye have from us, howe'er ye swell the treas- ure, Shall to the eldest son descend in equal measure.
ARCH-CHANCELLOR.
On parchment I, at once, shall gladly tabulate. To bless the realm and us, the statute of such weight : The copy and the seals the Chancery shall procure us, Thy sacred hand shall then validity assure us.
EMPEROR.
Dismissal now I grant, that you, assembled, may Deliberate upon the great, important day. ( The Secular Princes retire. )
ARCHBISHOP
{remains and speaks pathetically).
The Chancellor withdrew, the Bishop stands before
thee: A warning spirit bids that straightway he implore thee ! His heart paternal quakes with anxious fear for thee.
EMPEROR.
In this glad hour what may thy dread misgiving be ?
268 FAUST.
ARCHBISHOP.
Alas, in such an hour, how much my pain must greaten, To find thy hallowed head in covenant with Satan! True, to the throne, it seems, hast thou secured thy
right ; But, woe ! in God the Lord's, the Holy Pontiff's spite. Swift shall he punish when he learns the truth — the
latter : Thy sinful realm at once with holy ban he '11 shatter ! He still remembers how, amid thy highest state, When newly crowned, thou didst the wizard liberate. ^5° Thy diadem but made thy heart for Christians harden. For on that head accurst fell its first beam of pardon. Now beat thy breast, and from thy guilty stores, this
day. Unto the Sanctuary a moderate mite repay ! The spacious sweep of hills, where stood thy tent
erected, — Where Evil Spirits then, united, thee protected, — Where late the Liar- Prince thy hearing did secure, — Devote thou, meekly taught, to pious use and pure. With hill and forest dense, far as they stretch extended. And slopes that greenly swell for pastures never ended, Then crystal lakes of fish, unnumbered brooks that flow In foamy windings down, and braid the vale below ; The broad vale then, itself, with mead, and lawn, and
hollow ! ^^^
Thus penitence is shown, and pardon soon shall follow. '
EMPEROR.
For this, my heavy sin, my terror is profound : By thine own measure shalt thou draw the borders round.
ARCHBISHOP.
First be the spot profane, where sin was perpetrated,
I
ACT IV. 269
To God's high service soon and wholly dedicated !
With speed the walls arise to meet the mind's desire ;
The rising morning sun already lights the choir ;
The growing structure spreads, the transept stands ex- alted ;
Joy of Behevers, then, the nave is lifted, vaulted ;
And while they press with zeal within the portals grand.
The first clear call of bells is swept across the land,
Pealed from the lofty towers that heavenwards have striven :
The penitent draws near, new life to him is given.
The consecration-day — O, may it soon be sent ! —
Thy presence then shall be the highest ornament.
EMPEROR.
So great a work shall be my pious proclamation To praise the Lord our God, and work mine expiation. Enough ! I feel, e'en now, how high my thoughts as- pire.
ARCHBISHOP.
As Chancellor, next, the formal treaty I require.
EMPEROR.
A formal document, — the Church needs full requital'. Bring it to me, and I with joy will sign her title !
ARCHBISHOP
{has taken leave, but turns back again at the door). At once unto the work devote, that it may stand. Tithes, levies, tax, — the total income of the land, Forever. Much it needs, to be supported fairly. And careful maintenance will also cost us rarely : And, that it soon be built, on such a lonesome wold, Thou 'It from thy booty spare to us some little gold.
27©
FA UST.
Moreover, we shall want — here, most, we claim assist- ance—
Lumber, and lime, and slate, and such like, from a dis- tance.
The people these shall haul, thus from the pulpit taught ;
The Church shall bless the man, whose team for her has wrought.
{Exit.
EMPEROR.
The sin is very sore, wherewith my soul is weighted : Much damage unto me the Sorcerers have created.
ARCHBISHOP {returnmg once again, with profoundest genuflections) . Pardon, O Prince ! to him, that vile, notorious man. The Empire's coast was given ; but him shall smite the
ban, Unless thy penitence the Church's wrath relaxes There, too, with tithes and gifts, and revenues and taxes.
/ EMPEROR {ill-humoredly).
\ The land doth not exist : far in the sea it lies, i
ARCHBISHOP.
Who patient is, and right, his day shall yet arise. Your word for us remains, and makes secure our trover !
[Exit.
EMPEROR {solus).
I might as well, at last, make all the Empire over !
ACT V.
271
ACT V.^sx
I.
OPEN COUNTRY.
WANDERER.
YES ! 't is they, the dusky lindens ; There they stand in sturdy age : And again shall I behold them, After such a pilgrimage ? 'T is the ancient place, the drifted Downs, the hut that sheltered me, When the billow, storm-uplifted. Hurled me shoreward from the sea ! Here with blessing would I greet them, They, my hosts, the helpful pair, — Old, indeed, if now I meet them. Since they then had hoary hair. Pious folk, from whom I parted ! Be my greeting here renewed. If ye still, as open-hearted. Taste the bliss of doing good !
BAUCIS '52 (a little woman, very old). Gently, stranger ! lest thou cumber Rest, whereof my spouse hath need ! He but gains from longest slumber Strength for briefest waking deed.
272
FAUST. WANDERER.
Tell me, mother, art thou even She, to whom my thanks I bear, — - I, the youth, whose life was given By your kind, united care ? Art thou Baucis, who the coldly Fading mouth refreshment gave ?
{ The Husband appears. ) Thou, Philemon, who so boldly Drew my treasure from the wave ? From your fire, so quickly burning, From your silver-sounding bell. Changed my doom, to fortune turning. When the dread adventure fell. Forth upon the sand-hills stealing, Let me view the boundless sea ! Let me pray, devoutly kneehng. Till my burdened heart be free ! {He walks forward upon the downs.)
PHILEMON {to Baucis). Haste, and let the meal be dighted 'Neath the garden's blooming trees ! Let him go, and be affrighted ! He '11 believe not what he sees. {Follows, and stands beside the Wanderer.) Where the savage waves maltreated You, on shores of breaking foam. See, a garden lies completed. Like an Eden-dream of home ! Old was I, no longer eager. Helpful, as the younger are : And when I had lost my vigor, Also was the wave afar.
ACT V. 273
Wise lords set their serfs in motion,
Dikes upraised and ditches led,
Minishing the rights of Ocean,
Lords to be in Ocean's stead.
See the green of many a meadow,
Field and garden, wood and town !
Come, our table waits in shadow !
For the sun is going down.
Sails afar are gliding yonder ;
Nightly to the port they fare :
To their nest the sea-birds wander,
For a harbor waits them there.
Distant now, thou hardly seest
Where the Sea's blue arc is spanned, '53 —
Right and left, the broadest, freest
Stretch of thickly-peopled land.
12*
274 FAUST.
A
II.
IN THE LITTLE GARDEN. The Three at the Table.
BAUCIS {^o the Stranger). RT thou dumb ? Of all we 've brought here, In thy mouth shall nothing fall ?
PHILEMON.
He would know the marvel wrought here : Fain thou speakest : tell him all !
BAUCIS.
'T was a marvel, if there 's any ! And the thought disturbs me still : In a business so uncanny Surely helped the Powers of 111.
PHILEMON.
Can the Emperor's soul be perilled. Who on him the strand bestowed ? Gave the mandate not the herald, Trumpeting, as on he rode .'' Near our downs, all unexpected. Was the work's beginning seen, Tents and huts ! — but, soon erected, Rose a palace o'er the green.
BAUCIS.
Knaves in vain by day were storming, 's*
ACT V. 275
Plying pick and spade alike ; Where the fires at night were swarming, Stood, the following day, a dike. Nightly rose the sounds of sorrow. Human victims there must bleed : Lines of torches, on the morrow, Were canals that seaward lead. He would seize our field of labor. Hut and garden, godlessly : Since he lords it as our neighbor, We. to him must subject be.
PHILEMON.
Yet he bids, in compensation. Fair estate of newer land.
BAUCIS.
Trust not watery foundation ! Keep upon the hill thy stand !
PHILEMON.
Let us, to the chapel straying. Ere the sunset-glow has died, Chime the vespers, kneel, and, praying, Still in our old God confide !
275
FAUST,
III.
PALACE.
Spacious Pleasure-Garden : broad, straightly- CUT Canal.
Faust {in extreme old age, walking about, meditative).
LYNCEUS, THE WARDER {through the speaking-trumpet).
THE sun goes down, the ships are veering To reach the port, with song and cheer : A heavy galley, now appearing On the canal, will soon be here. The gaudy pennons merrily flutter. The masts and rigging upward climb : Blessings on thee the seamen utter, And Fortune greets thee at thy prime. ( The little bell rings on the downs. )
FAUST {starting). Accursed chime ! As in derision It wounds me, like a spiteful shot: My realm is boundless to my vision, Yet at my back this vexing blot ! The bell proclaims, with envious bluster, My grand estate lacks full design : 'ss The brown old hut, the linden-cluster, The crumbling chapel, are not mine. If there I wished for recreation.
ACT V.
277
Another's shade would give no cheer : A thorn it is, a sharp vexation, — Would I were far away from here !
WARDER [from above). With evening wind and favoring tide. See the gay galley hither glide ! How richly, on its rapid track, Tower chest and casket, bale and sack ! \A splendid Galley, richly and brilliantly laden with the pro- ductions of Foreign Countries.)
Mephistopheles. The Three Mighty Men.
CHORUS.
Here we have landed : Furl the sail ! Hail to the Master, Patron, hail ! ( They disembark : the goods are brought ashore.)
MEPHISTOPHELES. .
We 've proved our worth in many ways,
Delighted, if the Patron praise !
We sailed away with vessels twain,
With twenty come to port again. 's^
Of great successes to re'iate.
We only need to show our freight.
Free is the mind on Ocean free :
Who there can ponder sluggishly ?
You only need a rapid grip :
You catch a fish, you seize a ship ;
And when you once are lord of three,
The fourth is grappled easily ;
The fifth is then in evil plight ;
You have the Power, and thus the Right.
278 FAUST.
I You count the What, and not the How : If I have ever navigated, War, Trade and Piracy, I vow. Are three in one, and can't be separated \
THE THREE MIGHTY MEN.
No thank and hail ? No hail and thank ? As if our freight To him were rank ! He makes a face Of great disgust ; The royal wealth Displease him must.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Expect no further Any pay ;
Your own good share Ye took away.
THE MIGHTY MEN.
We only took it For pastime fair ; We all demand An equal share.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
First, arrange them
In hall on hall, —
The precious treasures,
Together all !
If such a splendor
Meets his ken.
And he regards it
ACT V. 279
More closely then, A niggard he Won't be, at least : He '11 give our squadron Feast on feast.
To-morrow the gay birds hither wend,*S7 j^ And I can best to them attend. ( The cargo is removed. )
MEPHISTOPHELES {to FaUST).
With gloomy gaze, with serious brow. Of this great fortune hearest thou. Crowned is thy wisest industry, And reconciled are shore and sea ; And from the shore, to swifter wakes. The willing sea the vessels takes. Speak, then, that here, from thy proud seat, Thine arm may clasp the world complete. Here, on this spot, the work was planned ; Here did the first rough cabin stand ; A Uttle ditch was traced, a groove, Where now the feathered oar-blades move. Thy high intent, thy servants' toil, From land and sea have won the spoil. From here —
FAUST.
Still that accursed Here / To me a burden most severe. To thee, so clever, I declare it, — It gives my very heart a sting ; It is impossible to bear it ! Yet shamed am I, to say the thing. The old ones, there, should make concession ; A shady seat would I create : The lindens, not my own possession,
28o FAUST.
Disturb my joy in mine estate. There would I, for a view unbaffled, From bough to bough erect a scaffold, Till for my gaze a look be won O'er everything that I have done, — To see before me, unconfined, The masterpiece of human mind, Wisely asserting to my sense The people's gain of residence. No sorer plague can us attack, Than rich to be, and something lack ! ^ss The chiming bell, the lindens' breath. Oppress like air in vaults of death : My force of will, my potence grand, Is shattered here upon the sand. How shall I ban it from my feeling ! I rave whene'er the bell is pealing.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
'T is natural that so great a spite Thy life should thus imbitter quite. Who doubts it ? Every noble ear. Disgusted, must the jangle hear ; And that accursed bim-bam-booming. Through the clear sky of evening glooming, Is mixed with each event that passes, From baby's bath to burial-masses. As if, between its bam and Mm., Life were a dream, in memory dim.
FAUST.
Their obstinate, opposing strain Darkens the brightest solid gain, Till one, in plague and worry thrust Grows tired, at last, of being just.
ACT V. 281
MEPHISTOPHELES. XT
Why be annoyed, when thou canst well despise them ? Wouldst thou not long since colonize them ?
FAUST.
Then go, and clear them out with speed ! Thou knowest the fair estate, indeed, I chose for the old people's need.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
We '11 set them down on other land ; Ere you can look, again they '11 stand .* When they 've the violence outgrown. Their pleasant dwelhng shall atone.
{He whistles shrilly.) The Three enter.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Come, as the Master bids, and let The fleet a feast to-morrow get !
THE THREE.
Reception bad the old Master gave : A jolly feast is what we crave.
MEPHISTOPHELES {ad spectator es). It happens as it happed of old : Still Naboth's vineyard we behold ! ^S9
282
FA UST.
IV.
DEAD OF NIGHT.
LYNCEUS, THE WARDER {singing on the watch-tower of the Palace).
FOR seeing intended, Employed for my sight,
The tower 's my dwelling.
The world my delight.
I gaze on the Distant,
I look on the Near, —
The moon and the planets,
The forest and deer.
So see I in all things
The grace without end.
And even as they please me,
Myself I commend.
Thou fortunate Vision,
Of all thou wast 'ware, /"whatever it might be^ yVet still it was fair ! / Pause.
Not alone that I delight me,
Have I here been stationed so : —
What a horror comes, to fright me,
From the darksome world below !
Sparks of fire I see outgushing
Through the night of linden-trees ;
Stronger yet the glow is flushing,
ACT V.
283
Fanned to fury by the breeze.
Ah ! the cabin burns, unheeded,
Damp and mossy though it stand :
Quick assistance here is needed,
And no rescue is at hand !
Ah, the good old father, mother,
Else so careful of the fire,
Doomed amid the smoke to smother! —
The catastrophe how dire !
Now the blackening pile stands lonely
In the flames that redly swell :
If the good old folk be only
Rescued from the burning hell !
Dazzling tongues the crater launches
Through the leaves and through the branches ;
Withered boughs, at last ignited,
Break, in burning, from the tree :
Why must I be thus far-sighted ?
Witness such calamity ?
Now the little chapel crashes
'Neath a branch's falling blow ;
Soon the climbing, spiry flashes
Set the tree-tops in a glow.
Down to where the trunks are planted
Bum they like a crimson dawn.
Long pause. Chant. What erewhile the eye enchanted With the centuries is gone.
FAUST {on the balcony, towards the downs). Above, what whining lamentation ? The word, the tone, too late I heed. My wardex wails ; I feel vexation
284
FA UST.
At heart, for this impatient deed. Yet be the lindens extirpated, Till half-charred trunks the spot deface, A look-in-the-land is soon created. Whence I can view the boundless space. Thence shall I see the newer dwelling Which for the ancient pair I raise, Who, my benign forbearance feeling, Shall there enjoy their latter days.
MEPHISTOPHELES AND THE THREE {helaiu).
We hither come upon the run !
Forgive ! not happily 't was done.^^
We knocked and beat, but none replied.
And entrance ever was denied ;
Of jolts and blows we gave good store.
And broken lay the rotten door ;
We called aloud, with direst threat.
But still no hearing could we get.
And, as it haps, with such a deed,
They would not hear, they would not heed ;
But we began, without delay,
To drive the stubborn folks away.
The pair had then an easy lot :
They fell, and died upon the spot.
A stranger, who was there concealed.
And fought, was left upon the field ;
But in the combat, fierce and fast.
From coals, that round about were cast,
The straw took fire. Now merrily
One funeral pile consumes the three.
FAUST.
Deaf unto my commands were ye !
^
ACT V. 285
Exchange I meant, not robbery.
The inconsiderate, savage blow
I curse ! Bear ye the guilt, and go !
CHORUS.
The proverb old still runs its course :
Bend willingly to greater force !
If you are bold, and face the strife.
Stake house and home, and then — your life !
\Exeunt. FAUST {on the balcony).
The stars conceal their glance and glow, The fire sinks down, and flickers low ; A damp wind fans it with its wings. And smoke and vapor hither brings. Quick bidden, and too quick obeyed ! — What hovers hither like a shade ?
2S6
FAUST.
V.
MIDNIGHT.^sx
Four Gray Women enter, FIRST.
TV TY name, it is Want.
SECOND.
And mine, it is Guilt.
THIRD.
And mine, it is Care.
FOURTH.
Necessity, mine.^^^
THREE TOGETHER.
The portal is bolted, we cannot get in :
The owner is rich, we 've no business within.
WANT.
I shrink to a shadow.
GUILT.
I shrink unto naught.
NECESSITY.
The pampered from me turn the face and the thought.
ACT V. 287
CARE.
z*^ Sisters, ye neither can enter, nor dare ; But the keyhole is free to the entrance of Care. (Care disappears.)
WANT.
Ye, grisly old Sisters, be banished from here !
GUILT.
Beside thee, and bound to thee, I shall appear !
NECESSITY.
At your heels goes Necessity, blight in her breath.
THE THREE.
The clouds are in motion, and cover each star ! Behind there, behind ! from afar, from afar,
He Cometh, our Brother ! he comes, he is —
Death !
FAUST {in the Palace).
Four saw I come, but those that went were three ; ^ The sense of what they said was hid from me. But something like " Necessity " I heard ; Thereafter, " Death^'' a gloomy, threatening word ! It sounded hollow, spectrally subdued : /Not yet have I my liberty made good : If I could banish Magic's fell creations. And totally unlearn the incantations, — Stood I, O Nature ! Man alone in thee. Then were it worth one's while a man to be ! **3 Ere in the Obscure I sought it, such was I, — Ere I had cursed the world so wickedly.
288 FAUST.
Now fills the air so many a haunting shape, *
That no one knows how best he may escape.
What though One Day with rational brightness beams,
The Night entangles us in webs of dreams.
From our young fields of life we come, elate :
There croaks a bird : what croaks he ? Evil fate ! '
By Superstition constantly insnared,
It grows to us, and warns, and is declared.
Intimidated thus, we stand alone. —
The portal jars, yet entrance is there none.
{Agitated. ) Is any one here ?
CARE.
Yes ! must be my reply.
FAUST.
And thou, who art thou, then ?
CARE.
Wellj — here am I.
FAUST.
Avaunt !
CARE.
I am where I should be.
FAUST (first angry, then composed, addressing himself ). Take care, and speak no word of sorcery !
CARE.
Though no ear should choose to hear me, Yet the shrinking heart must fear me :
ACT V. 289
Though transformed to mortal eyes, Grimmest power I exercise. On the land, or ocean yonder, I, a dread companion, wander, * Always found, yet never sought. Praised or cursed, as I have wrought ! Hast diou not Care already known ?
FAUST. ^
I only through the world have flown : *
\
Each appetite I seized as by the hair;
What not sufficed me, forth I let it fare.
And what escaped me, I let go.
I 've only craved, accomplished my delight.
Then wished a second time, and thus with might
Stormed through my life : at first 'twas grand, completely,
But now it moves most wisely and discreetly.
The sphere of Earth is known enough to me ;
The view beyond is barred immutably :
A fool, who there his blinking eyes directeth,
And o'er his clouds of peers a place expecteth !
Firm let him stand, and look around him well !
This World means something to the Capable.^^^
Why needs he through Eternity to wend ?^
He here acquires what he can apprehend.
Thus let him wander down his earthly day
When spirits haunt, go quietly his way
In marching onwards, bliss and torment find^
Though, every momeht, witTi unsate(
CARE.
Whom I once possess, shall never Find the world worth his endeavor : Endless gloom around him folding. Rise nor set of sun beholding, VOL. II. 13 s
290 FAUST.
Perfect in external senses, Inwardly his darkness dense is ; And he knows not how to measure • True possession of his treasure.
Luck and 111 become caprices ; Still he starves in all increases ; Be it happiness or sorrow, He postpones it till the morrow ; To the Future only cleaveth : Nothing, therefore, he achieveth.
FAUST.
Desist ! So shalt thou not get hold of me ! I have no mind to hear such drivel. Depart ! Thy gloomy litany Might even befool the wisest man to evil.
CARE.
Shall he go, or come .? — how guide him ? Prompt decision is denied him ; Midway on the trodden highway Halting, he attempts a by-way ; Ever more astray, bemisted. Everything beholding twisted, Burdening himself and others. Taking breath, he chokes and smothers, Though not choked, in Life not sharing, ■ Not resigned, and not despairing ! Such incessant rolHng, spinning, — Painful quitting, hard beginning, — Now constraint, now liberation, — Semi-sleep, poor recreation. Firmly in his place insnare him And, at last, for Hell prepare him !
ACT V. 291
FAUST. Ill-omened spectres ! By your treatment strays A thousand times the human race to error : Ye even transform the dull, indifferent days To vile confusion of entangling terror. 'T is hard, I know, from Daemons to escape ; The spirit's bond breaks not, howe'er one tries it ; And yet, O Care, thy power, thy creeping shape, Think not that I shall recognize'it !
CARE.
So feel it now : my curse thou 'It find, When forth from thee I 've swiftly passed ! Throughout their whole existence men are blind; So, Faust, be thou like them at last !
{She breathes in his face, )
FAUST {blinded). The Night seems deeper now to press around me,"\ * But in my inmost spirit all is light ; "^5 / A
I rest not till the finished work hath crowned me : The master's Word alone bestows the might. Up from your couches, vassals, man by man ! Make grandly visible my daring plan ! Seize now your tools, with spade and shovel press ! The work traced out must be a swift success. Quick diligence, severest ordering The most superb reward shall bring ; And, that the mighty work completed stands, One mind suffices for a thousand hands.
292 FAUST.
VI.
GREAT OUTER COURT OF THE PALACE.
, Torches.
MEPHISTOPHELES {in advance, as Overseer).
COME here, come here ! Come on, come on ! Ye Lemures, loose-hung creatures ! Of sinew, ligament, and bone Your knitted semi-natures !
LEMURES {in Chorus). Without delay are we at hand. And half 't is our impression That this concerns a spacious land, Whereof we '11 have possession. The pointed stakes, we bring them all, The measuring-chain, for distance ; But we 've forgotten why the call Was made for our assistance.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Here is no need of your artistic zeal :
Proceed as you may think it best !
Your tallest lay full length, from head to heel,
And lift the turf around him, all the rest !
As for our fathers made, prepare
To excavate a lengthened square !
From palace to the narrow house transferred,
Such is, at last, the issue most absurd.
ACT V. 293
LEMURES '^ {digging with mocking gestures). In youth when I did love, did love, Methought it was very sweet; When 't was jolly and merry every way, And I blithely moved my feet.
But now old Age, with his stealing steps, Hath clawed me with his crutch : I stumbled over the door of a grave ; Why leave they open such ?
FAUST [comes forth from the Palace, groping his way along the door- posts).
How I rejoice, to hear the clattering spade ! It is the crowd, for me in service moiling, Till Earth be reconciled to toiling, Till the proud waves be stayed. And the sea girded with a rigid zone.
MEPHISTOPHELES {aside).
And yet, thou 'rt laboring for us alone. With all thy dikes and bulwarks daring ; Since thou for Neptune art preparing — The Ocean-Devil — carousal great. In every way shall ye be stranded ; The elements with us are banded. And ruin is the certain fate.
FAUST.
Overseer !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Here!
294
FAUST.
FAUST.
However possible, Collect a crowd of men with vigor, Spur by indulgence, praise, or rigor, — ■ Reward, allure, conscript, compel ! Each day report me, and correctly note How grows in length the undertaken moat
MEPHISTOPHELES [half aloud).
When they to me the information gave,
They spake not of a moat, but of — a grave.^^
FAUST.
Below the hills a marshy plain
Infects what I so long have been retrieving ;
This stagnant pool likewise to drain
Were now my latest and my best achieving.
To many millions let me furnish soil,
Though not secure, yet free to active toil ;
Green, fertile fields, where men and herds go forth
At once, with comfort, on the newest Earth,
And swiftly settled on the hill's firm base.
Created by the bold, industrious race.
A land Hke Paradise here, round about :
Up to the brink the tide may roar without,
And though it gnaw, to burst with force the hmit.
By common impulse all unite to hem it.
Yes ! to this thought I hold with firm persistence ;
Xt^JL3:St resultj)f wisdom stamps it Jrue_:
He only earns his Weedom arid existence/
Who daily conquers them anew.'^ /
Thus here, by dangers girt, shall glide away
Of childhood, manhood, age, the vigorous day ;
And such a throng I fain would see, —
Stand on free soil among a people free !
ACT V. 295
Then dared I hail the Moment fleeing : " Ah, still delay — thou art so fair f^ The traces cannot, of mine earthly being, In aeons perish, — they are there ! — In proud fore-feeling of such lofty bliss, I now enjoy the highest Moment, — this !
|Faust sinks back : the Lemures take him and lay him upon the ground.) %
MEPHISTOPHELES.
No joy could sate him, and suffice no bliss !
To catch but shifting shapes was his endeavor :
The latest, poorest, emptiest Moment — this, —
He wished to hold it fast forever.
Me he resisted in such vigorous wise.
But Time is lord, on earth the old man lies/^
The clock stands still —
The index falls.
'T is past !
CHORUS.
Stands still ! silent as midnight, now !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
It falls ; and it is finished, here !
CHORUS.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
— Past ! a stupid word. If past, then why ?
Past and pure Naught, complete monotony ! What good for us, this endlessly creating ? — What is created then annihilating ? " And now it 's past ! " Why read a page so twisted ? 'T is just the same as if it ne'er existed,
296
FAUST.
Yet goes in circles round as if it had, however : 1 'd rather choose, instead, the Void forever.
SEPULTURE.170
LEMUR. Solo.
Who then hath built the house so ill, With fftiovel and with spade ?
LEMURES. Chorus. For thee, dull guest, in hempen vest, It all too well was made.
LEMUR. Solo.
Who then so ill hath decked the hall ? No chairs, nor table any !
LEMURES. Chorus.
'T was borrowed to return at call : The creditors are so many.
*- MEPHISTOPHELES.
The Body Hes, and if the Spirit flee,
I '11 show it speedily my blood-signed title. —
But, ah ! they 've found such methods of requital,
His souls the Devil must oft abstracted see '.
One now offends, the ancient way ;
Upon the new we 're not yet recommended :
Once, I alone secured my prey,
But now by helpers need to be befriended.
In all things we must feel the spite !
Transmitted custom, ancient right, —
Nothing, indeed, can longer one confide in.
Once with the last breath left the s'ouT her house ;
I kept good watch, and like the nimblest mouse,
ACT V.
297
Whack ! was she caught, and fast my claws her hide in !
Now she delays, and is not fain to quit
The dismal place, the corpse's hideous mansion ;
The elements, in hostile, fierce expansion.
Drive her, at last, disgracefully from it.
And though I fret and worry till I 'm weary.
When ? How ? and Where ? remains the fatal query :
Old Death is now no longer swift and strong ;
Even the Whether has been doubtful long.
Oft I beheld with lust the rigid members :
'T was only sham ; Life kindled from its embers.
{Fantastic y whirling gestures of conjuration.) Come on ! Strike up the double quick, anew. With straight or crooked horns, ye gentlemen infernal ! Of the old Devil-grit and kernel. And bring at once the Jaws of Hell with you ! Hell hath a multitude of jaws, in short,*7i To use as suiteth place and dignity ; But we, however, in this final sport, Will henceforth less considerate be.
( The fearful Jaws of Hell open^ on the left.) The side-tusks yawn : then from the throat abysmal The raging, fiery torrents flow. And in the vapors of the background dismal I see the city flame in endless glow. Up to the teeth the breakers lash the red arena ; The Damned, in hope of help, are swimming through ; But, caught and mangled by the fell hyena, Their path of fiery torment they renew. In every nook new horrors flash and brighten, In narrow space so much of dread supreme ! Well have you done, the sinners thus to frighten ; But still they '11 think it lie, and cheat, and dream ! ( To the stout Devils, with shorty straight horns. ) 13*
298 FAUST.
Now, paunchy scamps, with cheeks so redly burning !
Ye glow, so fat with hellish sulphur fed ;
With necks thick-set and stumpy, never turning, —
Watch here below, if phosphor-light be shed :
It is the Soul, the winged Psyche is it;
Pluck off the wings, 't is but a hideous worm : ^72
First with my stamp and seal the thing I '11 visit,
Then fling it to the whirHng, fiery storm !
The lower parts be well inspected,
Ye Bloats ! perform your duty well :
If there the Soul her seat selected
We cannot yet exactly tell.
Oft in the navel doth she stay :
Look out for that, she thence may slip away !
{ To the lean Devils, with long, crooked horns. )
Ye lean buffoons, file-leaders strange and giant. Grasp in the air, yourselves no respite give ! Strong in the arms, with talons sharp and pliant, That ye may seize the fluttering fugitive ! In her old home discomforted she lies. And Genius, surely, seeks at once to riseJ^s
{Glory from above., on the right.) THE HEAVENLY HOST.
Envoys, unhindered, Heavenly kindred. Follow us here ! Sinners forgiving, r Dust to make living !
Lovingest features Unto all creatures Show in your swaying, Delaying career !
ACT V.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
299
Discords I hear, a harsh, disgusting strumming,
Flung from above with the unwelcome Day;
'T is that emasculate and bungled humming
Which Pious Cant delights in, every way.
You know how we, atrociously contented,
Destruction for the human race have planned :
But the most infamous that we 've invented
Is just the thing their prayers demand.'74
The fops, they come as hypocrites, to fool us ! \y
Thus many have they snatched, before our eyes :
With our own weapons they would overrule us ;
They 're also Devils — in disguise.
To lose this case would be your lasting shame ;
On to the grave, and fortify your claim !
CHORUS OF ANGELS (scattering roses)^^^ Roses, ye glowing ones, Balsam-bestowing ones ! Fluttering, quivering. Sweetness delivering. Branching unblightedly, Budding delightedly. Bloom and be seen ! Springtime declare him. In purple and green ! Paradise bear him. The Sleeper serene !
MEPHISTOPHtfLES {to the Satans). t.
Why do ye jerk and squat ? Is this Hell's rule ? Stand to your ground, and let them sprinkle ! Back to his place each gawky fool ! They think, perhaps, with such a flowery crinkle,
&
300 FAUST.
As if 't were snow, the Devils' heat to cool :
Your breath shall make it melt, and shrink, and wrinkle
Now blow, ye Blowers ! — 'T is enough, enough !
Before your breath fades all the floating stuff.
Not so much violence, — shut jaws and noses !
Forsooth, ye blow too strongly at the roses.
The proper measure can you never learn ?
They sting not only, but they wither, burn !
They hover on with flames of deadly lustre :
Resist them ye, and close together cluster ! —
Your force gives out ; all courage fails you so :
The Devils scent the strange, alluring glow.
ANGELS.'76
Blossoms of gratitude, Flames of beatitude. Love they are bearing now, Rapture preparing now. As the heart may ! Truth in its nearness, Ether in clearness, Give the Eternal Hosts Everywhere Day !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
O curse and shame upon such dolts be sped ! Each Satan stands upon his head ! In somersaults the stout ones whirl and swerve, And into Hell plunge bottom-uppermost. Now may your bath be hot as •you deserve ! But I remain, unflinching, at my post.
{Beating off the hovering roses.)
Off, will-o'-the-wisps ! Bright as ye seem to be, When caught, the vilest clinging filth are ye.
ACT V. 301
Why flutter thus ? Off with you, quick ! — Like pitch and sulphur on my neck they stick.
CHORUS OF ANGELS.^77
What not appertaineth
To you, cease to share it !
What inwardly paineth, 'jir; o ;;'
Refuse ye to bear it !
If it press in with might,
Use we our stronger right :
Love but the Loving
Leads to the Light !
MEPHISTOPHELES.
My head, heart, liver, by the flames are rent !
An over-devilish element ! —
Sharper than Hell's red conflagration !
Thence so enormous is your lamentation,
Unfortunate Enamored ! who, so spurned.
Your heads towards the sweethearts' side have turned.
Mine, too ! What twists my head in like position \
With them am I not sworn to competition ?
The sight of them once made my hatred worse.
Hath then an alien force transpierced my nature ?
I like to see them, youths of loveliest stature ;
What now restrains me, that I dare not curse ? '^s —
And if I take their cozening bait so.
Who else, henceforth, the veriest fool will be ?
The stunning fellows, whom I hate so,
How very charming they appear to me ! —
Tell me, sweet children, ere I miss you,
Are ye not of the race of Lucifer ?
You are so fair, forsooth, I 'd like to kiss you ; -^^
It seems to me as if ye welcome were.
I feel as comfortable and as trustful,
302
FA UST.
♦
As though a thousand times ere this we 'd met !
So surreptitiously catHke-lustf ul :
With every glance ye 're fairer, fairer yet.
O, nearer come, — O, grant me one sweet look !
ANGELS.
We come! Why shrink.^ Canst not our presence
brook ? Now we approach : so, if thou canst, remain !
{The Angels, coming forward, occupy the whole space.)
MEPHISTOPHELES [who is crowded into the proscenium). Us, Spirits damned, you brand with censure, Yet you are wizards by indenture ; For man and woman, luring, you enchain. — What chance the curst adventure brings me ? Is this Love's chosen element.? The fire o'er all my body stings me ; My neck I scarcely feel, so hotly sprent. — Ye hover back and forth ; sink down and settle ! Move your sweet limbs with more of worldly mettle \ The serious air befits you well, awhile. But I should like, just once, to see you smile ; That were, for me, an everlasting rapture. I mean, as lovers look, the heart to capture ; About the mouth a simper there must be. Thee, tall one, as enticing I '11 admit thee ; The priestly mien does not at all befit thee, So look at me the least bit wantonly ! You might be nakeder,.and modest made so: Your shirts' long drapery is over-moral. — They turn ! — and, from the rear surveyed so. With their attraction there 's no need to quarrel !
ACT V. 303
CHORUS OF ANGELS. »79
Love Still revealing, Flames, become clearer ! All, curs&d with error, Truth be their healing ! Glad self-retrieval Free them from Evil, In the all-folding Breast, Blessed, to rest !
MEPHISTOPHELES {collecting himself). How is 't with me ? — Like Job, the boils have cleft me From head to foot, so that myself I shun ; Yet triumph also, when my self-inspection 's done, — When self and tribe I have confided in. The noble Devil-parts, at least, are left me ! • This love-attack 's a rash upon the skin. Burned out already are the scurvy fires. And one and all I damn you, as the case requires J
CHORUS OF ANGELS.
Hallowed glories ! Round whom they brood. Wakes unto being Of bUss with the Good. Join ye, the Glorified, Rise to your goal ! Airs are all purified, — Breathe now the Soul ! {They rise, bearing away the immortal part of Faust.)
MEPHISTOPHELES (looking around him ) . But how ? — at once I find them failing ! This race of minors takes me by surprise !
304 FAUST.
p^. They with their booty heavenwards are sailing ; Thence on this grave they cast their greedy eyes ! My rare, great treasure they have peculated : The lofty soul, to me hypothecated, They 've rapt away from me in cunning wise. But unto whom shall I appeal for justice ? Who would secure to me my well-earned right ? Tricked so in one's old days, a great disgust is ; And I deserve it, this infernal spite. I 've managed in a most disgraceful fashion ; A great investment has been thrown away : By lowest lust seduced, and senseless passion, The old, case-hardened Devil went astray.'^" And if, from all this childish-silly stuff His shrewd experience could not wrest him, So is, forsooth, the folly quite enough. Which, in conclusion, hath possessed him«v I
(.A
sy
ACT V. 305
VII.
MOUNTAIN-GORGES, FOREST, ROCK» DESERT.
Holy Anchorites, *8'
.Divided in ascending planes y posted among the ravines. CHORUS AND ECHO.
FORESTS are waving grand, Rocks, they are huge at hand, Clutching, the roots expand, Thickly the tree-trunks stand ; Foaming comes wave on wave ; Shelter hath deepest cave ; Lions are prowling dumb. Friendly where'er we come, Honoring the sacred place. Refuge of Love and Grace !
PATER ECSTATICUS ^8' {hovering up and down).
Endless ecstatic fire.
Glow of the pure desire, I Pain of the pining breast,
\ Rapture of God possessed !
\ Arrows, transpierce ye me,
•' Lances, coerce ye me,
\ Bludgeons, so batter me,
\ Lightnings, so shatter me,
3o6 FAUST.
That all of mortality's Vain unrealities Die, and the Star above Beam but Eternal Love !
PATER PROFUNDUS.^^3 {Lower Region.) As at my feet abysses cloven Rest on abysses deep below ; As thousand severed streams are woven To foamy floods that plunging go ; As, up by self-impulsion driven, The tree its weight sustains in air, To Love, almighty Love, 't is given All things to form, and all to bear. Around me sounds a savage roaring, As rocks and forests heaved and swayed, Yet plunges, bounteous in its pouring, The wealth of waters down the glade, Appointed, then, the vales to brighten ; The bolt, that flaming struck and burst. The atmosphere to cleanse and lighten. Which pestilence in its bosom nursed, — Love's heralds both, the powers proclaiming, Which, aye creative, us infold. May they, within my bosom flaming, Inspire the mind, confused and cold. Which frets itself, through blunted senses, As by the sharpest fetter-smart ! O God, soothe Thou my thoughts bewildered. Enlighten Thou my needy heart !
PATER SERAPHICUS.'24 [Middle Region.) What a cloud of morning hovers
ACT V. 307
O'er the pine-trees' tossing hair ! Can I guess what life it covers ? They are spirits, young and fair.
CHORUS OF BLESSED BOYS.'^S
Tell us, Father, where we wander ; Tell us, Kind One, who are we. Happy are we ; for so tender Unto all, it is. To Be.
PATER SERAPHICUS.
Boys, brought forth in midnights haunted, Half-unsealed the sense and brain, For the parents lost when granted. For the angels sweetest gain ! That a loving heart is nigh you You can feel : then come to me ! But of earthly ways that try you. Blest ones ! not a trace have ye. Enter in mine eyes : enjoy them, Organs for the earthly sphere ! As your own ye may employ them : Look upon the landscape here !
{He takes them into himself.) ^'^
Those are trees, there rocks defend us ; Here, a stream that leaps below. And with plunges, wild, tremendous, Shorteneth its journey so.
BLESSED BOYS {from within him). To a vision grand we waken. But the scenes too gloomy show ; We with fear and dread are shaken : Kindest Father, let us go !
3o8 FAUST.
PATER SERAPHICUS.
Upward rise to higher borders ! Ever grow, insensibly, As, by pure, eternal orders, God's high Presence strengthens ye! Such the Spirits' sustentation. With the freest ether blending ; Love's eternal Revelation, To Beatitude ascending.
CHORUS OF BLESSED BOYS {circling around the highest summit). Hands now enring ye, Joyously wheeling ! Soar ye and sing ye. With holiest feeling ! The Teacher before ye, Trust, and be bold ! Whom ye adore, ye ♦
Him shall behold.
ANGELS A^. \soaring tn the higher atmosphere, bearing the immortal part oj f^ r Faust).
The noble Spirit now is free, nd saved from evil scheming : hoe'er aspires unweariedly s not beyond redeeming. ^^7 ;
nd if he feels the grace of Love {
|rhat from On High is given, !
The Blessed Hosts, that wait above,
Shall welcome him to Heaven !
THE YOUNGER ANGELS.
They, the roses, freely spended
ACT V.
By the penitent, the glorious, Helped to make the fight victorious, And the lofty work is ended. We this precious Soul have won us ; Evil ones we forced to shun us ; Devils fled us, when we hit them : 'Stead of pangs of Hell, that bit them, Love-pangs felt they, sharper, vaster : Even he, old Satan-Master, Pierced with keenest pain, retreated. Now rejoice ! The work 's completed !
THE MORE PERFECT ANGELS.
Earth's residue to bear Hath sorely pressed us ; It were not pure and fair. Though 't were asbestus. When every element The mind's high forces Have seized, subdued, and blent, No Angel divorces Twin-natures single grown, That inly mate them : Eternal Love, alone. Can separate them.'^
THE YOUNGER ANGELS.
Mist-like on heights above,
We now are seeing
Nearer and nearer move
Spiritual Being.
The clouds are growing clear ;
And moving throngs appear
Of Blessed Boys,
Free from the earthly gloom,
309
310
FAUST.
In circling poise,
Who taste the cheer
Of the new spring-time bloom
Of the upper sphere.
Let them inaugurate
Him to the perfect state,
Now, as their peer !
THE BLESSED BOYS.
Gladly receive we now Him, as a chrysalis : Therefore achieve we now Pledge of our bliss. The earth-flakes dissipate That cHng around him ! See, he is fair and great ! Divine Life hath crowned him.
DOCTOR MARIANUS '^ {in the highest, purest cell). Free is the view at last, The spirit lifted : There women, floating past. Are upward drifted : The Glorious One therein. With star-crown tender, — The pure, the Heavenly Queen, I know her splendor. {Enraptured.) Highest Mistress of the World ! Let me in the azure Tent of Heaven, in light unfurled, Here thy Mystery measure ! Justify sweet thoughts that move Breast of man to meet thee,
ACT V.
And with holy bliss of love Bear him up to greet thee ! With unconquered courage we Do thy bidding highest ; But at once shall gentle be, When thou pacifiest. Virgin, pure in brightest sheen, Mother sweet, supernal, — Unto us Elected Queen, Peer of Gods Eternal !
Light clouds are circling
Around her splendor, —
Penitent women
Of natures tender.
Her knees embracing.
Ether respiring,
Mercy requiring ! Thou, in immaculate ray, Mercy not leavest, And the lightly led astray. Who trust thee, receivest ! In their weakness fallen at length, Hard it is to save them : Who can crush, by native strength. Vices that enslave them ? Whose the foot that may not slip On the surface slanting? Whom befool not eye and lip. Breath and voice enchanting ? {The Mater Gloriosa ^ars into the space.) ^90
CHORUS OF WOMEN PENITENTS.
To heights thou 'rt speeding Of endless Eden : Receive our pleading,
3H
312
FAUST.
Transcendent Maiden, With Mercy laden !
MAGNA PECCATRIX/91 [St. Luke, vii. 36.) By the love before him kneeling, — Him, Thy Son, a godhke vision ; By the tears like balsam steaHng, Spite of Pharisees' derision ; By the box, v^hose ointment precious Shed its spice and odors cheery ; By the locks, whose softest meshes Dried the holy feet and weary ! —
MULIER SAMARITANA. {St. John, iv.)
By that well, the ancient station Whither Abram's flocks were driven ; By the jar, whose restoration To the Saviour's lips was given ; By the fountain, pure and vernal. Thence its present bounty spending, — Overflowing, bright, eternal. Watering the worlds unending ! —
MARIA iEGYPTIACA. {Acta Sanctorum.) By the place, where the Immortal Body of the Lord hath lain ; By the arm, which, from the portal. Warning, thrust me back again ; By the forty years' repentance In the lonely desert-land ; By the bhssful farewell sentence Which I wrote upon the sand ! —
THE THREE.
Thou Thy presence not deniest
^
0^'
ACT V. 313
Unto sinful women ever, —
Liftest them to win the highest
Gain of penitent endeavor, —
So, from this good soul withdraw not —
Who but once forgot, transgressing,
Who her loving error saw not —
Pardon adequate, and blessing !
^ UNA PCENITENTIUM ^92
(formerly named Margaret, stealing closer). Incline, O Maiden, With Mercy laden. In light unfading,
Thy gracious countenance upon my bliss ! My loved, my lover. His trials over In yonder world, returns to me in this !
BLESSED BOYS [approaching in hovering circles). With mighty limbs he towers Already above us ; He, for this love of ours, Will richlier love us. Early were we removed. Ere Life could reach us ; Yet he hath learned and proved, And he wiU teach us.
THE PENITENT (formerly named Margaret). The spirit-choir around him seeing, New to himself, he scarce divines His heritage of new-born Being, When like the Holy Host he shines. VOL. IL 14
314 FAUST.
Behold, how he each band hath cloven, The earthly life had round him thrown, And through his garb, of ether woven. The early force of youth is shown ! Vouchsafe to me that I instruct him ! Still dazzles him the Day's new glare. ^^\^
MATER GLORIOSA. ^ *^a "^
Rise, thou, to higher spheres ! Conduct him, Who, feeling thee, shall follow there ! '«
DOCTOR MARIANUS {prostrate, adoring). Penitents, look up, elate. Where she beams salvation ; Gratefully to blessed fate Grow, in re-creation ! Be our souls, as they have been, Dedicate to Thee ! Virgin Holy, Mother, Queen, Goddess, gracious be !
CHORUS MYSTICUS.^94
All things transitory But as symbols are sent : Earth's insufficiency Here grows to Event : The Indescribable, Here it is done : The Woman-Soul leadeth us Upward and on !
NOTES
" Both Parts are symmetrical in their structure. • The First moves with deliberate swiftness from Heaven through the World to Hell : the Sec- ond returns therefrom through the World to Heaven. Between the two lies the emancipation of Faust from the torment of his conscious guilt, — lies his Lethe, his assimilation of the Past.
" In regard to substance, the First Part begins religiously, becomes metaphysical, and terminates ethically. The Second Part begins ethi- cally, becomes aesthetic, and terminates religiously. In one, Love and Knowledge are confronted with each other ; in the other, Practical Ac- tivity and Art, the Ideal of the Beautiful.
" In regard to form, the First Part advances from the hymnal chant to monologue and dialogue : the Second Part from monologue and dialogue to the dithyrambic, closing with the hymn, which here glorifies not alone The Lord and His uncomprehended lofty works, but the Human in the process of its union with the Divine, through Redemption and Atonement,"
ROSENKRANZ.
NOTES.
I. Ariel.
This first scene has the character of a Prologue to the Second Part of Faust, the action of which commences with the following scene. An indefinite period of time separates the two parts of the drama. Neither in his own life nor in his poetical creations did Goethe ever give space to remorse for an irrevocable deed. When Faust disappears with Mephis- topheles, all his later torture of soul has been already suggest- ed to the reader, and nothing of it can properly be introduced here, where the whole plan and scope of the work is changed.
Goethe firmly believed in healthy and final recovery from moral as from physical hurt : his remedial agents were Time and Nature. In Riemer's collection of Brocardica I find the following fragment : —
Nichts taugt Ungeduld, Noch weniger Reue : Jene vermehrt die Schuld, Diese schafft neue.
(Impatience is of no service, still less Remorse. That increases the offence, this creates new offences.) He over- came his own great sorrows by temporarily withdrawing from society and surrendering himself to the influences of Nature ; and we are to suppose that Faust repeats this experience, ■^he healing process is symbolized in this opening scene,
oi8 FAUST.
wherein the elves represent the delicate, mysterious agencies through which Nature operates on the human soul. Ariel
— who was Poetry in the Intermezzo of the Walpurgis-Night
— here takes the place of Oberon as leader of the elves, pos- sibly because the soul capable of a poetic apprehension of Nature is most open to her subtle consolations.
2. Four pauses makes the Night upon her courses. Goethe here refers to the four vigilice, or night-watches, of the Romans, each of three hours ; so that the whole, from six in the evening until six in the morning, include both sun- set and sunrise. I see no reason to suspect, in addition, a reference to Jean Paul's four phases of slumber, especially as the latter division is rather fantastic than real, the phases of healthy slumber being only three. The line, — " Then sprinkle him with Lethe's drowsy spray," recalls a passage in one of Goethe's letters to Zelter : " With every breath we draw, an ethereal current of Lethe flows through our whole being, so that we remember our joys but imperfectly, our cares and sorrows scarcely at all."
3. Chorus.
The four verses of the Chorus correspond to the four vigi- lice. The first describes the evening twilight ; the second, the dead of night ; the third, the coming of the dawn ; and the fourth, the awaking to the day. The direction in regard to the chanting of the verses by the alternate or collective voices of the elves was added, in view of the possible repre- sentation of the drama upon the stage. Even where he had no such special intention, Goethe was fond of attaching a theatrical reality to his poetic creations ; but throughout the Second Part he has purposely done this, in order to counter- act the tendency of his symbolism to become vague and form- less.
4. With a crash the Light draws near.
We may conjecture that Goethe had in his mind the Ros*- pigliosi Aurora of Guido, which suggests noise and the sound of trumpets ; but he also referred both to ancient myths and
NOTES. 319
the guesses of the science of his day. Tacitus speaks of a legend current among the Germans, that, beyond the land of the Suiones, the sun gives forth audible sounds in setting. The same statement is found in Posidonius and Juvenal. In Macpherson's Ossian, " the rustling sun comes forth from his green-headed waves." Also in the German mediaeval poem of " Titurel," the sun is said to utter sounds sweeter than lutes and the songs of birds, on rising. The crash de- scribed by Ariel is only audible to the " spirit-hearing " of the elves, who at once disappear, and Faust awakens, his being " cleansed from the suffered woes."
5. Look up ! — The mountain summits, grand, supernal.
The scene described is Swiss, and from the neighborhood of the Lake of the Four Forest Cantons. Goethe's projected journey to Italy in 1797 terminated with a tour in that region, in company with the artist Meyer. In the third volume of Eckermann's Conversations, he is reported as having given the following account of his studies for the proposed epic of " Tell," and the use he afterwards made of the material : —
" I visited again the lake and the little Cantons, and those attractive, beautiful, and sublime landscapes made such a re- newed impression upon me, that I was tempted to embody in a poem the variety and richness of the scenery. In order, therefore, to add the proper interest and life to my descrip- tion, I resolved to people the important locality with equally important personages, and the legend of Tell was the very thing I needed."
After sketching his conceptions of the different characters, Goethe continued: "I was entirely possessed with the subject, and already began, from time to time, to hum my hexameters. I saw the lake in quiet moonshine, with illuminated mist in the gorges of the mountains. I saw it in the glow of the loveliest morning sun, and the awakening life and rejoicing of grove and meadow. Then I painted a storm, a thunder- gust, hurled from the gorges upon the lake. Moreover, there was no lack of night and silence, and secret meetings on bridges and Alpine paths."
320 FAUST,
"I communicated all this to Schiller, in whose soul my landscapes and characters grew to a drama. Since I had other things to do, and postponed more and more the fulfil- ment of my plan, I finally made over my material to him, and he thereupon produced his admirable poem."
**I stated," said Eckermann, "my impression, that the splendid description of sunrise, written in terza rima, in the first scene of the Second Part of Faust, might have sprung from the memories of those landscapes of the Lake of the Four Forest Cantons."
" I will not deny," said Goethe, " that the features of the description are thence drawn. Nay, I could not even have imagined the substance of the terzinen, without the fresh im- pressions of that wonderful scenery. But that is all which I coined for myself out of the gold of my Tell-localities : the rest I relinquished to Schiller."
There seems to be a slight obscurity in the passage com- mencing : —
" 'T is thus, when unto yearning hope's endeavor."
The substance of German comment is, that Faust is over- whelmed, as when the Earth-Spirit appears to him in the First Part, by the apparition of perfect and universally illu- minating Truth, which his human eyesight cannot endure. The sudden and complete fulfilment of a hope, he reflects, has the same bewildering effect; and he hides himself "in youthful drapery " {veil, in the original), since youth is con- tent with an amazed acceptance of the highest revelations of Life, without seeking to penetrate their mysteries.
6. Life is not light, but the refracted color. Here the above thought is repeated in a metaphor drawn from Goethe's studies of Color. The waterfall is a symbol of human endeavor, — impetuous, never-ending, destructive, yet inspiring, and creating force ; and the rainbow is the divided ray of the intolerably keen white light of Truth, as it is reflected in and overhangs the movement of life. Shel- ley expresses exactly a similar thought in a different im- age:—
NOTES. 321
" Life, like a dome of many-colored glass, Stains the white radiance of Eternity."
In Goethe's description of the Falls of the Rhine, at Schaffhausen, we find the germ from which his thought grew : " The rainbow appeared in its greatest beauty : it stood with unmoving foot in the midst of the tremendous foam and spray, which, threatening forcibly to destroy it, were every moment forced to create it anew."
I have not translated the above line strictly in harmony with Goethe's Farbenlehre. " Am farbigen Abglanz haben wir das Leben " is, literally : " In the colored reflection we have Life." Goethe's theory is that Color is not produced by the refraction of the ray, but is the result of the mixture of light and darkness, in different degrees. His conclusions were drawn from only partial observation, and have been proved to be incorrect. I therefore feel justified in using a term which best interprets his thought as a poet, without reference to this glimpse of his theory as a man of science.
The opening scene strikes the keynote which reverber- JV ates through the Second Part. Faust lets his "dead Past bury its dead " : but his intellect has been purified by his experience of human love, delight, and suffering. He re- sumes, in another and more enlightened sense, his aspiration for the " highest being," and we must accompany him, henceforward, with our intellectual, and not, as in the First Part, with our emotional nature.
^ 7. Emperor,
On the 1st of October, 1827, Goethe read the manuscript of this scene to Eckermann. "In the Emperor," said he, "I have endeavored to represent a Prince who has all possi- ble qualities for losing his realm — in which, indeed, he after- wards succeeds.
" The welfare of the Empire and of his subjects gives him no trouble ; he thinks only of himself, and how he may amuse himself, from day to day, with something new. The Jand is without order and law, the judges themselves accom- plices with the criminals, and all manner of crime is com- 14* U
32 2 FAUST.,
mitted unhindered and unpunished. The army is unpaid, without discipline, and ranges around plundering, in order to help itself to its pay, as best it can. The treasury is with- out money and without the hope of further contributions. In the Emperor's household things are not much better : there are deficiencies in kitchen and cellar. The Lord High Steward, more undecided from day to day what course to pursue, is already in the hands of usurious Jews, to whom everything has been mortgaged, and even the bread on the Emperor's table has been eaten in advance.
" The Council means to represent to His Majesty all these evils, and to consult with him how they may be removed ; but the Most Gracious Ruler has no inclination to lend his ear to such disagreeable things : he would much rather be diverted. Here, now, is the true element for Mephisto, who has speedily made away with the former Fool, and as new Fool and Councillor stands at the Emperor's side."
Goethe took from the old legend the idea of presenting Faust at the Court of the German Emperor. The proper manner of Faust's introduction, however, seems to have given him a great deal of trouble : more than one outlined sketch must have been rejected, and this initial difficulty probably retarded for many years the completion of the work. Falk gives us the following plan, as having been communicated to him by Goethe (probably between 1806 and 1813) : — ^ " Because Faust desires to know the whole world, Mephis- topheles proposes to him, among other things, that he shall seek for an audience with the Emperor. It is the time of the latter's coronation. Faust and Mephistopheles arrive safely in Frankfurt, and must now be announced. Faust refuses, because he knows not upon what subject to converse with the Emperor. But Mephistopheles encourages him with the promise that he will accompany him at the appointed time, support him when the conversation flags, and, in case it should fail entirely, will assume both his speech and his form, so that the Emperor will really not know with whom he has spoken or not spoken. With this understanding Faust finally
NOTES. 323
accepts the proposition. Both betake themselves to the hall of audience and are received. Faust, on his part, in order to show himself worthy of the Imperial grace, summons up all his wit and knowledge, and speaks of the loftiest things. Nevertheless, his fire warms only himself: the Emperor re- mains cold, yawns continually, and is on the point of termi- nating the interview. Mephistopheles perceives this in the nick of time, and comes to Faust's assistance, as he had prom- ised. He assumes the same form, and stands bodily before the Emperor as Faust, with the latter's mantle, doublet, ruff, and the sword at his side. He now continues the conversa- tion, just where Faust left off; but with a very different and much more brilliant result. He chatters, swaggers, and prates so to the right and the left, hither and thither, of all things on earth and outside of it, that the Emperor is beside himself with amazement, and assures the lords present that this is a thoroughly learned man, to whom he could listen for days and weeks, without becoming weary. At first, in- deed, he was not particularly edified, but after the man had warmed to his subject, nothing finer could be imagined than the manner in which he set forth all things so briefly, yet so gracefully and intelligently. He, as Emperor, must confess that he had never before found united in one person such treasures of thought and experience, with such knowledge of human nature, — not even in the wisest of his Councillors." This plan, although humorous, would require too much elaboration to serve as the mere vehicle of Faust's introduc- tion at Court ; and the fact that Goethe related it to Falk is sufficient proof that he had already rejected it. We have his own word for the fact that he never dared to communicate his poetical ideas in advance, even to Schiller ; and he would be much less likely to bestow so intimate a confidence upon a man so vain and garrulous as Falk.
8. What 's cursed and welcomely expected ? Mephistopheles commends himself to the Emperor's grace by a riddle of which himself (the Fool) is the solution. Some, however, consider " Justice " to be the true interpretation.
324 FAUST.
and Hartung insists on finding in the lines a resemblance to Schiller's riddle of " Genius."
9. Murmurs of the Crowd. The part given to the crowd of spectators in this and the following scene is evidently imitated from the Greek Chorus. The " murmurs " are confused and fragmentary comments on the action, and they also seem to have been partly de- signed to represent the masses who passively accept Life in whatever form it comes to them, or as it may be moulded for them by active and positive individual natures. The satire indicated in these passages is for the most part pointless, and we cannot but feel that they add an unnecessary heaviness to what is, without them, the least edifying part of the drama.
10. But tell me why, in days so fair. Goethe's conception of the character of the Emperor (given in Note 7) is here illustrated. The Fool and the Astrologer, standing on his right and left hand, are the two Court offi- cials to whose counsel he is most inclined to listen. The former relieves the tedium of state affairs, and the latter has cast an auspicious horoscope of his fortunes ; yet, even with their aid, he consents reluctantly and with a half-protest to hear the reports of his ministers. The titles of the latter are taken from the mediaeval organization of the German Imperial Court, where they were hereditary in certain princely houses. The dignity of Arch Chancellor belonged to the Elector of Mayence ; of Arch Banner- Lord (for which Goethe has substituted "General-in-Chief") to the Elector of Wiirtemberg ; of Arch-Treasurer to the Elector of Brunswick ; and of Arch-Marshal to the Elector of Sax- ony. I have translated the word Marschalk, on account of the character of the office, into " Lord High Steward." In spite of the conjectures of some of the German commentators, it is not probable that reference is made to any particular historical period. The decadence oi an Empire is necessary for the part assigned to Mephistopheles and the later impa- tience of Faust with his experience of " the greater world."
NOTES.
325
1 1 . The Saints and Knights are they.
The satire in this passage — of which the Chancellor him- self is quite unconscious — needs no explanation. Nature and Mind, in all ages, are the bugbears of privileged classes, and the speaker, here, is the representative of both the Saints (the priesthood) and the Knights.
In the Paralipomena there is a fragment of a scene which must have been intended as a substitute for the present. It is sketched in prose : —
BISHOP.
They are pagan views ; I have found similar ones in Marcus Aurelius. They are the pagan virtues.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
And that means — splendid vices. It is just, for that reason, that the prisoners should one and all be burned.
EMPEROR.
I find it hard : what say you, Bishop ?
Without evading the sentence of our all- wise Church, I am inclined to believe that, at once —
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Pardon ! Pagan virtues ? I would fain have had them punished ; but if it may not be otherwise, we will pardon them. — For the present thou art absolved, and again in thy right.
12. The' Spheres of Hour and House are in his ken. The astrologers divided the celestial hemisphere into twelve parts, which were called Houses. In casting a horoscope, it was necessary to have, first, the hour of birth and the lat- itude and longitude of the birthplace. The location of the sun, moon, planets, and the signs of the zodiac in the dif- ferent houses, was then ascertained. As each house repre- sented a special human interest or passion, and each planet a special controlling force, the various combinations which thus arose furnished the material out of which the horoscope was constructed.
326 FAUST.
The speech of the Astrologer, prompted by Mephistoph- eles, refers to the seven metals, to which the mediaeval al- chemists attached the names of the seven planets. The sun is gold, the moon silver ; Mercury is quicksilver, Venus copper, Mars iron, Jupiter tin, and Saturn lead.
13. There lies the fiddler, there the gold) Clemens Brentano, in his "Boy's Wonder-horn," states that it is a common superstition in Germany, that, when one accidentally stumbles, he is passing over the spot where a fiddler is buried.
The expressions of Mephistopheles refer to the power of divination supposed to be possessed by certain persons. They suggest a passage in Wilhelm Meister, where Jarno de- scribes a man who accompanies him on his mineralogical journeys : " He possessed very wonderful faculties, and a most peculiar relation to all which we call stone, mineral, or even element. He felt not only the strong effect of the sub- terranean streams, deposits of metal, strata of coal, and all such substances as are found in masses, but also, what was more remarkable, his sensations changed with every change of the soil." Goethe, himself, seems to have had a half- belief in the possibility of an occult instinct of this nature.
14. He seeks saltpetre where the clay-walls stand. Old walls, especially in damp cellars and subterranean passages, become covered with an incrustation of saltpetre, the collection of which was formerly a government monopoly.
15. A cask of tartar holds the wine. It is a general belief in Germany that when a cask of wine has been kept for centuries, it gradually deposits a crust of tartar, which may acquire such a consistency as to hold the liquid when the. staves have rotted away. The wine thus becomes its own cask, and preserves itself in a thick, oily state. It is then supposed to possess wonderful medicinal powers.
NOTES. 327
16. Carnival Masquerade.
In the *' Carnival Masquerade " we reach the first en- tangling episode of the Second Part of Faust. Tiatthe entire scene is an allegory, is evident ; and we can scarcely ^ ^ be mjstaken~m'assuming^hs^ief motive to be lhej;^epresen^ -^|C tation of the human race in its social and political organi- sation. This basis has been accepted, almost unanimously, by the German critics ; but upon it each has built his own individual theory of the development of the idea through the characters introduced. Whether intentionally or uncon- sciously, Goethe himself has added not a little to the con- fusion by introducing, now and then, a double (possibly even a triple) symbolism : therefore, although we may feel toler- ably secure in regard to the elements which he represents, so many additional meanings are suggested that we walk the labyrinth with a continual suspicion of our path.
I shall endeavor to hold fast to the firm determination with which I commenced the work, — that of not adding another to the many theories already in existence. The reader, nevertheless, requires, if not an infallible clew, at least an adequate number of indications pointing in the same direction, to carry him forwards. Unless he is sufficiently interested to add his own guesses, on the way, to those of the ';ritics and commentators, — to perceive, at least, the concentric meanings in which the allegorical forms are en- veloped, — he will probably grow weary long before this di- gression returns again to the original course of the drama.
The design of the Carnival • Masquerade is similar to that of Scene II. (" Before the City-Gate ") of the First Part. The latter gives us a picture of life in a small German town, — a narrow circle of individual characters, as they would appear to Faust in his " little world." The broader sphere into which he has now entered requires an equally broad and compreTiehtilve pJLLuie of Iluuiau Life, as it iij lh6ulded_ b^ociety and Government Schiller, to whom Goethe con- fided his literary plans more fully than to any other friend, foresaw the difficulty to be encountered. He wrote (in June-
328
FAUST.
1797) : " A source of anxiety to me is, that Faust, according to your design, seems to require such a great amount of material, if the idea is finally to appear complete ; and I find no poetical hoop which can encircle such a cumulative mass. Well, you will no doubt be able to help yourself. For ex- ample : Faust must necessarily, to my thinking, be conducted into the active life of the world, and whatever part of it you may choose out of the great whole, the very nature of it seems to require too much particularity and diffuseness."
Goethe, who wrote to Schiller, " it gives one a new spirit for labor, when one sees one's own thoughts and purposes indicated externally, by another," was unable, in the end, to select any detachable phase of Society, and therefore at- tempted to present the elements which enter into all human association, under the form of a mask. "We are first intro- duced to types of the classes of persons who are found in Society ; then toMLhe moral elements, represented by the Graces, the Parcse7'aiTd'1:^te-<F unes ; the 'syhiboT of_a^wiselv organized government followsT^ith aii mterTude in which
altH! The debasing
Ecigtry appears as the compSTliun erf influences of the lust of gain and the madness of speculation are set forth, the Fauns, Satyrs, and Gnomes are introduced as types of the ruder forces of human nature, and the Car- nij^al closes ,with a catastrophe in whichmostofthe critics see Revolution symbolized.
This IS the simplest iuid most obvious outline of the scene. At every step, however, there are additional references and suggestions, the most important of which are explained in the succeeding Notes. The views of German commentators are tolerably accordant in regard to Goethe's general design ; but, when they come to particulars, they strike so many in- dividual tangents from the central thought. Diintzer says : " The collective representations of the Masquerade refer to civil and political life. The first group of masks whom we meet exhibit the external blessings of life, followed by an- other group who set forth those moral features of life which are most influenced by external possessions. The State, prudentlv governed, and made prosperous by the wise activ-
.VOTES.
329
ity of its Ruler, is then presented to us in an allegorical pic- ture, whereto the concluding symbol of a State overthrown by the selfishness and weakness of a self-indulgent Ruler forms an explanatory contrast."
Schnetger divides the scene into five parts: I. "A pic- ture of the cheerful, rich garden of Life." II. A sketch ot the disorganizing influences in human society, which require to be governed ; of the beneficent powers which have lost their sway in our modern world, and of the darker elements which have taken their place. III. P representation of a well-governed State. IV. The worship ot Mammon in hu- man society, and the vulgar hunger of the multitude for gold. V. The collision of the cupidity of the People with that of the Prince, followed by a general conflagration.
Hartung considers that the forms and forces of social life are directly presented, and finds a class oi persons, not of ideas, behind each mask. He seems to include the elephant and its attendants (generally accepted as the symbol of the State) among the social allegories, but sees, in the conclu- sion, the overthrow of civil order.
Deycks and Kostlin reject the idea of a complete and con- sistent allegory of Society and Government. The latter, moreover, gives a different explanation of the final catastro- phe, which is quoted in its appropriate place.
Kreyssig says of the scene : " Here the poet introduces that singular masquerade in which the action of the next fol- lowing scenes is announced and allegorically hinted, and which, to the dispassionate mind, if not exactly the most dif- ficult to be comprehended, is yet one of the most entangled and unrefreshing portions of the whole poem. Here the dic- tion first displays all those ostentatious singularities, which have brought the Second Part of Faust into such bad repute with a part of the reading world. Here the poet first mani- fests, in easy latitude, his known tendency to mysterious, symbolic pranks, and loads the poem with a multitude of adjuncts which seem to us unnecessary for the comprehen- sion and proper effect of the whole — but rich material for the interpreters who are skilled in aesthetic filigree-work."
33 o FAUST.
The careful reader will find that there is some truth in each one of the foregoing explanations, and that the chief confusion has arisen from the circumstance that Goethe could not find, as Schiller feared, a poetic hoop capable of encircling such a cumulative mass of material. I will only add, that, in the Notes which follow, referring to the sepa- rate masks, I have given preference to the simplest and most direct interpretation, which is always the more poetic and the more consistent with the laws of Goethe's mind, as man- ifested in his other works.
The scene of the Masquerade is not in Italy, as some sup- pose, but at the German Court, after the Emperor's return from his coronation by the Pope, at Rome. Maximilian I. was the first German Emperor who omitted this ceremony.
17. Garden-Girls.
The Masquerade is properly opened by the lightest, gay- est, and most attractive element of Society, — the young, unmarried women. Goethe took the fioraje of Florence (not the present race !) as types of grace, beauty, and that art which seems artlessness. These qualities are the "flow- ers which blossom all the year." Hartung, in his notice of this passage, says : " Every woman, who dresses herself with taste, is an artist for her own body."
"They" (the Garden-Girls) "represent, in contrast to the foregoing description of the needs of the Court, the simple, joyous, and enjoying nature of the race. The picturesque character of the poetry and the sententious grace of the ad- dress make this one of the most agreeable groups." — Leutbecher.
18. Olive-Branch, with Fruit. If the allegory is consistently developed, we must suppose that the Olive-Branch, the Wreath of Ears, and the Fancy- Wreath are types of female character, or of the different forms of attraction whereby women draw towards them the complementary male characters. Schnetger, however, gives a different interpretation : " Joy and enjoyment flourish
NOTES.
331
nnder the sheltering branch of Olive, the certain warrant of peace. Under its shadow, in the Garden of Life, Nature creates the Golden Ear for the one who desires the Beauti- ful in union with the Useful ; and Fancy, or Art, creates a thousand wreaths for the other, who only takes delight in gay and graceful forms."
Goethe's maxim, throughout the whole of the Masquerade, seems to have been that of the Manager, in the " Prelude on the Stage " : —
*• Who offers much, brings something unto many."
I do not think it necessary, therefore, to load each detail with all the varieties of explanation. The reader, in any case, will find himself infected by the suggestiveness of the text, and thereby unconsciously led to interpret the forms according to his own individual taste.
19. What our name is, Theophrastus.
The reference is not to Theophrastus Paracelsus, but to Theophrastus of Lesbos, born B. C. 390, the disciple of Plata and the successor of Aristotle. Among his extant works is a " Natural History of Plants," a translation of which, by Sprengel, was published at Altona, in 1822 ; and his name was probably thereby suggested to Goethe.
The " Fancy Nosegay " seems to be designed as a type of the wilful, artful, bewildering power of woman, which does not attract all of the opposite sex, but the more surely fasci- nates a portion of it. This version of the mask is certainly indicated by the "Challenge," which next appears, and which is one with the "Rosebuds." We are to suppose that the emblematic rosebuds which she carries are tempo- rarily concealed, and then suddenly produced as a contrast, exhibiting the superior charms of sweet, timid, modest maidenhood over the glamour of acquired feminine art.
Hartung says : "The Fancy- Wreath and the Fancy Nose- gay mean to unite Art and Poetry, which create a second artificial nature within Nature : and especially the latter, the poetic temperament, seeks a heart capable of recognition
332 FAUST.
and love. The Rosebud, on the contrary, does not make herself conspicuous by show and glitter : she will only open her glowing bosom to the lucky finder."
In Goethe's " Four Seasons " there is the following dis- tich : —
Thou to the blooming maiden mayest be likened, O Rosebud 1 Who as the fairest is seen, yet through her modesty fair.
20. Gardeners. Although some commentators assert that the preceding masks of flowers represent the attraction of appearance, and the fruits which are now brought forward must therefore represent positive possession, I prefer to stand by the more obvious solution, and to see in the gardeners only the male element of Society. In the latter, grace and beauty are sec- ondary qualities ; the decision which follows mutual attrac- tion must not be left to the eye alone ; the internal flavor of character must be tasted. The spectacular arrangement of the fruits and flowers, under green, leafy arcades, suggests Goethe's description of the Neapolitan fruit-shops, in his Italienische Reise.
21. Mother and Daughter.
Here the meaning is not easily to be mistaken, and the critics, although some of them have shown remarkable skill in their efforts to attach some additional significance to the characters, have not been able to escape the direct allusion to scheming mothers with marriageable daughters. The masks are appropriately introduced as a transition from the natural, unperverted attraction of the sexes in youth, which is the primitive cause and charm of Society, to the inttoduc- tion of other and disturbing elements.
The game alluded to in the third stanza {Drifter Mann), I only know by its old English name of " Hindmost of Three," which may possibly be a local designation ; but it will at least indicate the game to those who happen to know it under another name.
The stage directions, in brackets, following this passage,
NOTES.
ZZZ
as well as those on page 39, were added by Riemer, under Goethe's direction. They thus appeared in the twelfth vol- ume of Goethe's Complete Works, in 1828, and it is under- stood that they were intended to indicate additional scenes;, not written at the time. The failure, afterwards, to fill these gaps, was certainly not forgetfulness, as Diintzer charges, but rather weariness and the absence of fortunate moods, on the part of the octogenarian poet.
A theatrical atmosphere undoubtedly pervades, not only this, but many other scenes of the Second Part of Faust, and the English reader who may be not always agreeably con- scious of this circumstance, should bear in mind that tioethe's long management of the Weimar theatre, and his constant production of plays, masques, and vaudevilles ^many of them of an "occasional" character), led him to consider, while writing, the possible representation of the urama upon the German stage. Prince Radzivill had already composed music for the First Part (in 1814), and at the very time when Goethe was preparing the Carnival Mas- querade for publication, in 1828, Karl von Holtei was en- gaged in bringing out the First Part as a melodrama, with music by Eberwein. Nor must we forget that the German public had been educated to an appreciation and enjoyment of even allegorical representations. After Sophocles had been produced on the Weimar stage, and Schiller had re- vived the antique Chorus in his " Bride of Messina," Goethe not unreasonably conjectured that the Second Part of Faust might be acceptably represented. The attempt has not yet been made ; but a day may come when it shall be possible.
2^. W00I>-CUTTERS. PULCINELU. PARASITES.
The ruder ana less attractive — nay, frequently repellent — elements of Socmty are represented in these three classes. The interpretation c/f each vvill depend upon the circum- stance, whether we give them a pureiy social, or also a polit- icai character. In the former cast, me Wood-Cutters are typical of those coarse-natured, brusque i-ndividuals, who pride themselves on disregarding the social graces atic ro-
334 P^US'r-
prieties ; the Pulcinelli are the obsequious idlers, triflers, and gossip-mongers ; the Parasites are described by their name. If we are asked to give them a broader significance, the Wood-Cutters are the rude, unrefined masses, upon whose labor rests the finer fabric of Society ; the Pulcinelli are the loafers who manage to live without any visible means of support, and are never idler than when they seem to be most busy ; and the Parasites remain the same, only with a broader field of action.
Some lines in the address of the latter suggest a passage in the Third Satire of Juvenal : —
Grieve, and they grieve ; if you weep silently,
There seems a silent echo in their eye :
They cannot mourn like you, but they can cry.
Call for a fire, their winter clothes they take :
Begin you but to shiver, and they shake ;
In frost and snow, if you complain of heat,
They rub th' unsweating brow, and swear they sweat.
Dryden^s Translation.
23. Drunken Man. Goethe's object, here, is to represent sensual indulgence, of which intemperance is but one form. This being the last of the masks which symbolize social classes, there is all the more reason for restricting the explanation to Society alone ; since, if the author had meant to typify political classes, he must have necessarily closed the group with criminals in- stead of sensualists. Duntzer, nevertheless, insists that this and the three preceding masks represent " the slavish de- pendence of men upon external possessions " ! But Leutbecher surpasses all other commentators in asserting that the Wood- Cutters, the Pulcinelli and Parasites typify " intellectual manifestations and their relation to each other," while in the Drunken Man he finds " the struggle of the Real as a coun- terpoise to the Ideal " ! !
24. The Herald announces various Poets. From this point to the appearance of the Graces, we have the skeleton of an unwritten scene, the character of which
NOTES.
335
ma^-j^artly be conjectured from Goethe's expressions to Eck- ermann. The various classes of poets whom he meant to rep- resent, and the jealousy of the cliques with which they were associated (unfortunately a characteristic of German literary jfe at the present day), may readily be guessed. Although no one allows the others to speak, the Satirist succeeds in declaring that his delight is in uttering what no one likes to hear. Under the title of " Night and Churchyard Poets " the author may have hinted at Matthisson and Salis, and the earlier lyrics of Lenau. The allusion to the vampire we are able definitely to trace. Early in 1827, Merimee published his La Guzla : Poisies Illyriques, of which Goethe wrote : " The poet, as a genuine Romanticist, calls up the ghostliest forms ; even his localities create a dread. Churches by night, grave- yards, cross-roads, hermits' huts, rocks and ravines uncannily surround the reader, and then appear the newly dead, threat- ening and terrifying, alluring and beckoning as shapes or flames, and the most horrid vampirism, with all its concomi- tants."
The new Romantic school in France, and especially its leader, Victor Hugo, aroused Goethe's keenest wrath. He called Ndtre Dame de Paris " an abominable book ! " and thus expressed himself to Eckermann : '* In place of the beautiful substance of the Grecian mythology we have devils, witch-hags, and vampires, and the noble heroes of the early time must give way to swindlers and galley-slaves. Such things are piquant ! They produce an effect ! But after the public has once eaten of this strongly peppered dish, and be- come accustomed to the taste, it ivill demand more and stronger ingredients." Herein is an explanation of the refer- ence to the Grecian Mythology, " which, even in modern masks, loses neither its character nor its power to charm."
25. The Graces. Here the masks represent social qualities and forces, not varieties of individual character. In the Graces we see giv- ing, receiving, and thanking or acknowledging, not in the nar- rower sense of an act, but as symbolical of the intercourse of
336
FA UST.
men, — the communication of one nature to another, the im- pressions bestowed and received, the reciprocal appreciation of character.
According to Hesiod, the Graces were Aglaia, Euphrosyne, and Thalia. In place of the latter Goethe 'substituted He- gemone (one of the two Graces revered by the Athenians), perhaps for the reason that the name of Thalia is better known as that of a Muse.
26. The PARCiE.
As in the Graces we have the activity of beneficent social qualities, so now, in the Parcae, we find those forces of order, restraint, and control, without which there could be no per- manence in human intercourse. Hartung considers that they represent the " necessities " to which Life must submit, and Diintzer calls them the embodiment of " moral limitations " — but these are simply different forms of the same solution.
Goethe has purposely changed the parts of Atropos and Clotho. The former carefully spins a soft and even thread, warning the maskers that it must not be stretched too far, even in enjoyment. Clotho, the youngest of the Fates, an- nounces that the shears have been given to her, because Atropos prolonged useless lives and clipped the threads of the young and hopeful, and she, therefore, thrusts the shears into the sheath, in order to make no similar mistakes. I confess I am unable to explain the exact significance of this action. Some find in it a hint that the ancient gloomy, inex- orable idea of Fate is banished from modern society ; others that the needful moderation and self-control will make the threatening shears unnecessary.
The task of Lachesis is evidently to arrange and twist to- gether the separate threads into an even, ordered chain, — a symbol which requires no further explanation.
27. They are The Furies. Here we have the activity of evil forces in society. Goethe changes the Erinnys of the Greeks, who were represented as fierce, baleful figures, with snakes and torches in their hands,
NOTES.
337
into fair, young, wheedling creatures, seemingly harmless as doves. His design cannot be for a moment doubted. The unresting Alecto of modern society is the insinuation that breeds mistrust^ the slander that wears an innocent face, the power that in a thousand ways thrusts itself between ap- proaching hearts and drives them apart. Megaera typifies the alienation which arises from selfish whims, from indif- ference or satiety ; and Tisiphone alone, the avenging Fury, remains true to her ancient name and office.
28. And here Asmodi as my follower lead.
Asmodi (or Ashmedai), the Destroyer, was an evil demon of the Hebrews. He is mentioned in the Talmud, and Jew- ish tradition reports that he once drove Solomon from his kingdom. Since, in the Book of Tobias, he kills in succes- sion the seven husbands of Sara, he has been credited with a special enmity to married happiness. In this quality he ap- pears as the follower of Megaera. As " Asmodeus " we find him in Wieland's Oheron, and the Diable Boiteux of Lesage, through which he is almost as widely known as Mephistoph- eles.
29. You see a mountain pressing through the throng.
The Herald's expression : " For that which comes is not to you allied," seems to indicate a change in the character of the allegory ; and I am disposed to agree with those who attach a political meaning to the coming masks, rather than with those who would include the latter in the representa- tion of society. The former interpretation is certainly the more simple and complete. The elephant is Civil Govern- ment, or The State, as another form of organized human life. He is guided by Prudence, while on either hand walk Fear and Hope, in fetters. Fear, who shrinks from every undertaking, and Hope, who would undertake all things without considering results, are, as Prudence declares, "two of the greatest of human foes." They thus represent the political elements of blind conservatism and reckless passion for change. In an ordered and intelligent State both these forces are chained, Prudence guides the colossal organism,
VOL. II. 15 V
338 FAUST.
and the Goddess of all victorious active forces sits aloft on her throne. Each change in the course of the allegory, the reader will observe, commences with the bright and attrac- tive aspects of life and then advances to the opposite.
Eckermann reports a conversation which he had with' Goethe in December, 1829, concerning this scene: "We spoke of the Carnival Masquerade, and how far it would be possible to represent it on the stage. ' It would still be something more,' said I, ' than the market in Naples.'
" ' It would require an immense theatre,' remarked Goethe, * and is hardly conceivable.'
" * I hope to live to see it,' was my answer. * I shall take especial delight in the elephant, guided by Prudence, with Victory above, and Fear and Hope in chains at the sides. Really, there can scarcely be a better allegory.'
" ' It would not be the first elephant on the stage,' said Goethe. ' One in Paris plays a complete part. He belongs to a political party, and takes the crown from the King to set it on his rival's head So you see that in our Car- nival, we could depend on the elephant. But the whole is much too great, and would require a manager, such as is not easily found.' "
The addresses put into the mouths of Fear, Hope, and Prudence have less point and importance than any others in the Masquerade.
30. Zoilo-Thersites. Goethe takes Thersites from the Iliad, and unites him to the Thracian barrator, Zoilus, who, in the third century be- fore Christ, became so renowned by his venomous abuse of Plato, Isocrates, and especially Homer, that his name was applied by the Greeks to all vulgar, malicious scolds. The two characters, combined, represent the class of political slanderers, defamers of all good works, pessimists in the most offensive sense. The characteristics of this class are exhibited in still stronger and more repulsive forms, when Zoilo-Thersites is changed into the Adder and Bat by the magic wand of the Herald.
NOTES.
339
The " Murmurs of the Crowd " are here introduced, as in Scene II., to supply the place of a Chorus, and assist in de- scribing the action.
3 1 . Black lightning of the eyes, the dark locks glowing. The costume of the Boy Charioteer, as described by the Herald, is that of the Apollo Musagetes. It is the same which Schlegel gives to Arion, in his well-known ballad : —
" He hides his limbs of loveliest mould In gold and purple wondrous fair; Even to his feet falls, fold on fold, A robe as light as summer air :
His arms rich golden bracelets deck, And round his brow, and cheeks, and neck. In fragrance floats the leaf-crowned hair."
D. F. Mac-Carihy's Translation.
The appropriateness of this costume is explained in the fol- lowing note.
I have used the phrase " a four-horse chariot," because, in the original text, it is thrice spoken of as a Viergespann, — " a team of four," — and the Boy Charioteer uses the word " steeds " ^^Rosse). Dlintzer and some other German writers consider that the chariot is drawn by dragons, although the latter are specially mentioned as guardians of the treasure- chests. This is not a matter of much importance : I give the original words, in order that the reader may take his choice.
32. I am Profusion, I am Poesy I
Eckermann, in 1829, reports : " We then talked of the Boy Charioteer.
" * That Faust is concealed under the mask of Plutus, and Mephistopheles under that of Avarice,' Goethe remarked, • you will have already perceived ; but who is the Boy Char- ioteer } '
"I hesitated, and could not immediately answer.
"'It is Euphorion,' said Goethe.
" ' But how can he appear in the Carnival here,' I asked, 'when he is not born until the third act?'
540 FAUST.
" 'Euphorion,' replied Goethe, 'is not a human but an allegorical being. In him is personified Poetry, which is bound neither to time, place, nor person. The same spirit, who afterwards chooses to be Euphorion, appears here as the Boy Charioteer, and is so far like a spectre that he can be present everywhere and at all times.' "
The episode of Plutus and the Boy Charioteer is a double allegory. The first and most direct interpretation is that which belongs to the characters as a portion of the masquer- ade. The Boy is not only Poetry, but the poetic element as it is manifested in all Art ; and we may therefore say that he represents the highest intellectual possessions, as Plutus represents material possessions. Further on, we shall see the manner in which the gifts of both are received by the multitude.
33. And only gives what golden gleams.
Although Poetry and Profusion are one, and the Poet (Artist) is rich in proportion as he spends his own best goods -- although Art and Taste esteem themselves wealth- /^ ier than Wealth itself, since they bestow all which the latter can never of itself possess — nothing is less appreciated by the mass of mankind than the gifts which they freely scatter. Pearls become beetles, and jewels butterflies, and even the , vision of the courtly Herald (possibly a type of the wholly artificial society of Courts) sees nothing beyond the external appearance.
The " flamelets " which the Boy also scatters, and which he afterwards describes as leaping back and forth among the crowd of masks, lingering awhile on one head, dying out in- stantly on others, and very seldom rekindled into a tempo- rary brilliancy, need not, now, be further interpreted to the reader.
34. Thy brow when laurels decorate.,
Have I not them with hand and fancy braided? The appeal of the Boy Charioteer to Plutus brings us to the second and more carefully concealed allegory, which lies
NOTES.
341
beneath the first, and does not seem to have been guessed by the German commentators. The only special reason why Faust appears in the mask of Plutus is the part which Mephistopheles arranges for him to play at the Emperor's Court — to assist in restoring the shattered finances of the realm by a scheme of paper-money based on buried treasure.^ At this point, and hence to the close of the Carnival Mas- 1 querade, a thread taken from the regular course of the \ drama is also introduced, and lightly woven into the alle- I gory. There is no difficulty in following both, and we | might, if it were really necessary, be satisfied without look- ^ ing further ; but the conversation between Plutus and the | Boy Charioteer, on pages 41 and 44, provokingly hints of an J additional meaning. When Plutus says "soul of my soul /^ art thou ! " it is certainly not Wealth speaking to Art : when the Boy Charioteer says " as my next of kindred, do I love thee ! " it is certainly not Art speaking to Wealth.
The Chancellor von Miiller, in his work : " Goethe as a Man of Action," was the first and only one to discover the key to these expressions. The noble and intimate relation which for fifty years existed between the Grand Duke Karl August and Goethe — the Ruler and the Poet — is here most delicately and feelingly drawn. The manner in which the Grand Duke assisted Goethe in his flight into Italy ; the care with which he watched lest the duties of his office should interfere with his poetic and scientific activity ; the beautiful renown given by the latter in return for this freedom, — are all indicated in a few lines. When the Herald first describes Plutus, it is neither Faust nor Wealth whom we see, but Karl August as Goethe saw him : —
" Blest those, who may his favor own !
No more has he to earn or capture ;
His glance detects where aught 's amiss.
And to bestow his perfect rapture
Is more than ownership and bliss."
The correspondence between Goethe and the Grand Duke so thoroughly justifies this interpretation, that I do not see how it can be avoided. The strong impression which I have
342
FA UST.
received from a careful study of the Helena (Act III.), that Euphorion is not really Byron, but Goethe himself in his poetic activity, is justified by Goethe's declaration that the Boy Charioteer and Euphorion are one, and also — as I shall endeavor to show in subsequent notes — the Homunculus of the Classical Walpurgis-Night. Although this theory has not been adopted by any of the German critics, it seems to me to furnish the simplest and most satisfactory solution of the most perplexing puzzle which the Second Part contains — simplest, because all the illustrations which support it are drawn from Goethe's life and poetical development, and most satisfactory, because I can find no other which harmo- nizes and consistently explains the three characters.
It is proper to make the statement now, where the first evidence is furnished. The additional reasons which I shall offer to the consideration of the reader will be given when Homunculus and Euphorion make their appearance.
35. Then Avaritia was my name. Mephistopheles, true to his character of Negation, wears the mask of Avarice, which is the opposite of active and ostentatiously exhibited wealth. His address to the women is suggested by the difference of gender between the ancient Latin word, avaritia, which is feminine, and the German, der Geiz, which is masculine. The Women are perhaps intro- duced here, instead of the former mixed crowd, because ava- rice is more repulsive to their nature and habits than to those of the men. ^
36. Drive thou this people from the field!
With the departure of Euphorion, the additional character
given to Plutus ceases, and he is simply the type of Wealth.
When he opens the treasure-chest, the action of the multi-
^.tude, contrasted with their reception of the Boy Charioteer's
/ gifts, explains itself The intellectual wealth turned into
\ beetles in their hands ; the tongues of flame, cast upon their
•^ heads, flickered and went out ; but now the show of riches,
I which the Herald declares to be a cheat, a joke of Carnival,
NOTES. 343
excites them to a maddening exhibition of greed. The ac- | tion of Plutus, in driving back the crowd with his burning ( wand, appears to symbolize the usual termination of those j popular excitements which have wealth for their object, — j such golden bubbles, for instance, as the Mississippi scheme j of Law, the railway mania in England, petroleum in America, / etc. The fury for sudden enrichment is followed by a gen- / eral scorching.
3 7. What will the lean fool do ? The predominance of a coarse, material greed of gain in the people brings after it a general demoralization, the em- bodiment of which in a palpable form is appropriately given to Mephistopheles. He takes the gold and kneads it into shapes, the character of which is so evident that they ne not be described, and which express the natural consequences of wealth without culture and refinement. It seems proba ble, as many commentators have surmised, that Goethe had in view the condition of France under Louis XV. and XVI. Diintzer says : *' He shows us how, in a period of material prosperity, the passion for w^ealth and indulgence increases, until it leads the people to the highest pitch of shameless immorality."
38. They know not whitherward they V*? wending^ Because they have not looked ahead. We now reach the l^st group of the Carnival masks, and the closing scene of the allegory. The commentators (with the exception of Kostlin and Kreyssig) are agreed that it represents the revolutionary overthrow of a State, and they differ only in regard to the interpretation of the details. The " savage hosts " are the masses of ignorant people, whose ruder qualities are presently typified under the forms of Fauns, Satyrs, and Gnomes. Since they lack that foresight which comes of intelligence and wider experience, they drift into Revolution without knowing whitherward they are wend- ing. Schnetger thinks the Emperor takes the mask of Pan Ithe All), in the sense in which Louis XIV. declared
344 FAUST.
" L'Etat, c'est moi ! " Hartung insists that the line " Full well I know what every one does not " refers to Free-Ma- sonry and its supposed connection with the French Revolu- tion ! Duntzer considers that the Ruler and his Court are responsible for the catastrophe (a view which seems to be justified by Goethe's expressions, quoted in Note 7), while others assert that it is brought on by the thirst of the people for gold and their subsequent demoralization.
There is one objection to this interpretation, which I give for what it may be worth. The Fauns, Satyrs, Nymphs, and Gnomes are the attendants of Pan (the Emperor), and their parts are played — as the catastrophe shows us — by the personages of the Court. Kreyssig says : " They storm on- wards like a savage host, the Emperor as Pan, his associates as Gnomes and Fauns, collectively the representatives of rude natural forces and desires, in contrast to the spiritual- ized, Olympian forms of light, and when they rashly approach the fire and spirit fountain of Plutus, after their first, amazed admiration, they are properly tormented by the magic glow, although meanwhile only in sport. The part they play is more distinguished and externally stately, but not much more dignified than that of the holiday carousers whom Mephistopheles so tricked in Auerbach's Cellar."
39. Gnomes. Diintzer asserts that the Fauns represent unrestricted in- dulgence in all forms of sensual appetite; the Satyrs the arrogant will of a Ruler who looks down upon and despises the people ; the Gnomes the unbounded greed of power and wealth ; and the Giants the stupid and stubborn nature of those counsellors who surround the throne and endeavor to crush every movement arising from the development of the people. Neither this nor any other of the more particular elucidations of the scene seems to me infallible. According, to Hartung, the Fauns are peasants (Bauern), and the Sa- tyrs demagogues. The field of conjecture, here, is still open to whoever wishes to enter it ; and I shall not undertake to decide whether the masks represent classes or qualities.
NOTES.
345
The Gnomes are the only ones who have something more ' than an allegorical part to play. They are evidently intro- duced as the guardians of buried treasure, in connection with the financial scheme of Mephistopheles. This is clearly ex- pressed, when their Deputation approaches Pan and an- nounces the new and wonderful fountain of wealth, the spell of which must be broken by him. The Chancellor refers to this episode in the following scene (page 58), when he as- sures the Emperor that the latter actually signed the man- date authorizing the issue of paper-money.
The greeting '' Gliick aufT'' (which I have translated " Good cheer ! " though it may also be rendered " Luck to you ! ") is in use among the miners, everywhere throughout Germany. It appears to be exclusively an underground hail, and therefore appropriate to the Gnomes.
The Giants, as they are here described, naked, with an uprooted fir-tree in the hand, may still be seen on the coat- of-arms of more than one princely house in North Germany. They are called Waldmdnner (Men of the Woods) by the people, and are supposed, by some archaeologists, to be lin- eal descendants of the Grecian Fauns.
40. At midday sleeping, o'er his brow.
" The foliage of these oaks and beeches is impenetrable to the strongest sunshine : 1 like to sit here after dinner on warm summer days, when on yonder meadows and on the park all around there reigns such a silence, that the ancients would have said of it : ' Pan sleeps.' " — Goethe to Ecker- tnann, 1824.
" The hour of Pan now fell upon me, as always upon my journeys. I should like to know whence it derives such a. power. According to my view, it lasts from eleven or twelve until one o'clock ; therefore the Greeks believe in Pan's hour, the people and also the Russians in an hour of day, when the spirits are active. The birds are silent at this time ; men sleep beside their implements. In all nature there is something secret, even uncanny, as if the Dreams were creeping around the noonday sleepers. Near at hand 15*
346
FA UST.
all is silent ; in the distance, on the borders of the sky, there are hovering sounds. Not only do we recall the past, but the Past overtakes us and penetrates us with hungry yearn- ing ; the ray of Life is broken into singularly distinct colors. Towards the vesper, existence gradually grows fresher and stronger." — Richter, Flegeljahre.
Perhaps as a contrast to this silence of the sleeping Pan, the Nymphs recall the old Greek tradition of his terrible voice, wherewith he even alarmed the Titans fighting against Jove. In battle, also, his cry was sometimes heard, and we still retain the expression of the sudden, collective terror it was supposed to inspire, in our word panic.
41. The Emperor burns and all his throng.
Although this scene is generally accepted as symbolizing Revolution, its character is not so clear and consistent as to forbid other interpretations. The Emperor's account of his vision during the magic conflagration, given in the next scene, scarcely harmonizes with an allegorical representation of his own overthrow ; and there are various details — such as the Dwarfs (Gnomes) being the conductors of the Emperor to the fount of fire, the Herald holding the wand which Plutus afterwards uses to quench the flame — to which we cannot easily give a political symbolism.
I have quoted Kreyssig's view (Note 38), and here add that of Kostlin : " When Pan, or the Emperor, arrives with his suite, a deputation of the Gnomes, the spirits of the met- als, advances and conducts him to the flowing gold in the chest of Plutus, which they have just discovered. The chief object of the Carnival Masquerade is therewith fulfilled ; the Emperor is solemnly declared to be lord of the inexhaustible store of metals hidden in the earth. Then the whole, since it is only illusion and pleasantry, apparently terminates terri- bly, .... not the Revolution, as Diintzer's gloomy interpre- tation asserts, but, as it is immediately afterwards styled, a cheerful "jugglery of flame," which terrifies only to banter, and also serves, through the seeming terror and the speedy quelling of the conflagration, to show the magic art of Faust
NOTES.
347
in its entire glory. At the most, there is herein a hint that wealth may result in damage, and that all material splendor is threatened with the danger of annihilation."
It is possible that the scene may be a phantasmagoric pic- ture of the consequences of the new financial scheme, which the Emperor has just (unconsciously) authorized. Most of the German commentators, however, accept the theory of " Revolution." There is nothing, indeed, to prevent us from applying both solutions at the same time.
Some have supposed that the burning of the Emperor and the surrounding masks was suggested by the terrible confla- gration which occurred at the ball given by Prince Schwar- zenberg to Napoleon, at Paris, in 1810. But it is much more likely that Goethe remembered the following passage from Gottfried's Chronik, which he must have read as a boy : " About two years afterwards (1394), when things were a lit- tle better for the King (Charles VI. of France), divers lords sought to do him a pleasure, to which end, on Caroli day in January, they arranged a masque and disguised six of them- selves in the likeness of Satyrs or wild men. The garment which they had on was tight, lying close upon the body, thereto smeared with pitch or tar, whereon tow hung like as hair, that so they appeared rough and savage. This pleased the King so well that he was fain to be the seventh, and in like form. Now it was at night, and they must use torches, because this dance was begun in the presence of the ladies. The King came thus disguised to the Duchesse de Berry, and, to her thinking, made himself all too silly and rude, wherefore she held him fast arid let him not go till she should find who he was. But as he did not disclose himself, the Due d'Orleans, who was beholding the dance, took a torch from the hand of a servant, and lighted under the King's face, whence caught the pitch on the fool's-garment, and the King began to burn. Now when the others saw such, forgot they their garments, ran thither, and would quench the King's blaze ; but they were in like guise caught by the flame, and because every one hurried to the King, four of those French gentlemen were burned so miserably that they thereupon
348
FA UST.
died. Truly the King was preserved, and no particular in- jury to his body, but because of the fright and the great out- cry he fell again into his former madness."
42. So hear and see the fortune -ft eighted leaf.
Carnival and Allegory close together, and with this scene we return to Faust, and his experiences at the Court of the Emperor. As I have already remarked, the Emperor's de- scription of what he saw in the realm of fire does not at all harmonize with the Revolutionary solution, whence Diintzer, who holds fast to the latter, is obliged to surmise that Goethe must have forgotten the close of the foregoing scene when he wrote the commencement of this ! I should much prefer to believe that Goethe allowed one part of his duplicate alle- gory to drop (its purpose having been fulfilled), and here introduces the Emperor's vision as a further explanation of the other part, — a deceptive picture of the additional splen- dor and homage which shall follow the new financial scheme. Mephistopheles falls ironically into the same strain, and scoffs while he seems adroitly to fatter.
The paper-money device was probably suggested by the history of John Law's operations in Paris, under the Orleans Regency, — from 1716 to 1720. It is also likely that Goethe remembered a passage in Pope's epistle to Lord Bathurst (*' On the Use of Riches ") : —
" Blest paper-credit ! last and best supply ! That lends corruption lighter wings to fly ! Gold imp'd by thee, can compass hardest things, Can pocket states, can fetch or carry kings ; A single leaf shall waft an army o'er, Or ship off senates to some distant shore ; A leaf, like Sibyl's, scatter to and fro Our fates and fortunes as the winds shall blow ; Pregnant with thousands flits the scrap unseen. And silent sells a king or buys a queen."
Eckermann writes, December 27, 1829 ; " After dinner, to-day, Goethe read to me the paper-money scene.
" ' You will remember,' said he, ' that at the Imperial Council the burden of the song is that money is lacking, and
NOTES.
349
Mephistopheles promises to furnish it. This subject runs through the Masquerade, wherein Mephistopheles so man- ages that the Emperor, in the mask of the great Pan, signs a paper, which, receiving the value of money from his sig- nature, is then a thousand-fold copied and circulated. Now in this new scene the circumstance is discussed before the Emperor, who does not yet know what he has done. The Treasurer hands over the bank-notes, and explains the transaction. The Emperor, at first angry, but after a closer comprehension of his gain delighted, bestows the new paper- money lavishly upon the circle around him, and finally, in leaving, drops several thousand crowns, which the fat Fool gathers together and then hastens at once to change from paper into real estate.'
" Scarcely had the scene been read and some remarks con- cerning it been exchanged, when Goethe's son came down and took his seat at the table. He spoke of Cooper's last romance, which he had just read, and which he very intelli- gently discussed. We made no reference to the scene which had been read, but he began, of his own accord, to talk of the Prussian treasury-notes, and that they were taken at more than their actual value. While the young Goethe thus spoke, I looked at the father with a smile which he answered, and we thereby showed that we both felt the seasonable character of the scene."
Soret reports, in 1830 : *' Goethe mentioned his want of faith in paper-money, and gave reasons based on his own experience. As another evidence he related to us an anec- dote of Grimm, in the time of the French Revolution, when the latter, who was no longer safe in Paris, returned to Ger- many and was living in Gotha." Goethe then described how Grimm, one day at dinner, had exhibited his lace sleeve- ruffles, declaring that no king in Europe possessed so costly a pair. The others estimated their value at from one to two hundred louis d'or ; whereupon he laughed and said : " I actually paid 250,000 francs for them, and was lucky to get that much for my assignatSy which, the next day, were not worth a fj^rthing-"
350 FAUST.
■j^ The purpose of the scene, as a part of the plot, is to pro- "^^ure Faust a position at the Imperial Court. The character of its satire is drawn from subjective sources, and hence — since all successful satire must have a basis of generally evi- dent truth — is only partially effective.
-^4^ 43. T/tey house within their special Hades.
Goethe now returns to the original Faust-legend [vide Ap- pendix I., First Part) in giving Faust the task of invoking the shades of Paris and Helena. In the legend, however, Mephistopheles voluntarily produces Helena as a succuba^ to be the spouse of Faust : here he remains true to his Gothic character and his negation of Beauty. The heathen race, he confesses, has its own special Hades, with which he has no concern. His disinclination to assist Faust is so very evident that we may almost ascribe to him an instinct of the elevating and purifying influence which Helena, as the sym- bol of the Beautiful, will afterwards exercise. Being, never- theless, bound by the terms of the compact, he consents to point out the method of invocation, leaving the performance to Faust.
44. They are The Mothers !
Here is the second enigma, a complete and satisfactory solution of which is not to be expected. I will first quote all that Goethe himself has said in relation to this passage. On the loth of January, 1830, Eckermann writes : "To-day, as a supplement to the dinner, Goethe gave me a great enjoyment, by reading to me the scene where Faust goes to the Mothers. The new, unsuspected character of the subject, together with the tone and manner in which Goethe recited the scene, took hold of me with wonderful power, so that I found myself at once in the condition of Faust, who feels a shudder creep over him when Mephistopheles makes the communication.
" I had heard and clearly comprehended the description, but so much of it remained enigmatical to me that I felt myself forced to beg Goethe to enlighten me a little. He, however, according to his usual habit, assumed a mysterious
NOTES. 35 1
air, looking at me with wide-open eyes and repeating the words : —
The Mothers ! Mothers ! It sounds so singular !
" * I can only betray so much,' he then said, * that in read- ing Plutarch, I found that in Grecian antiquity the Mothers are spoken of as Goddesses. This is all which I have bor- rowed, however ; the remainder is my own invention. You may take the manuscript home with you, study it carefully, and see what success you will have with it.' "
Riemer, in his Mittheilutigen iiber Goethe, relates that during a season at Carlsbad, the latter read the whole of Plutarch's Morals, in Kaltwasser's translation. " This," says Riemer, "gave us material for conversation at the table, or in our walks, and the enigmatical * Mothers ' in Faust may have re- mained in Goethe's memory from some one of these occasions. For when he questioned me on this point twenty years after- wards — perhaps about the time when he wished to use the material in working on Faust — I could not immediately say where the Mothers were to be found ; but he then remem- bered that he had read of them in Plutarch. At first I could not find the passages, and neglected or forgot to make further search ; but, after his death, when I arranged the manuscript of Faust, memory and research awoke again. I found both passages, but did not quote them because they give no ex- planation of the use which Goethe has made of those mystic daemons."
Plutarch's mention of the Mothers, however, is not to be found in his Moralia, but in the Life of Marcellus : " In Sicily there is a town called Engyium, not indeed great, but very ancient and ennobled by the presence of the Goddesses, called the Mothers. The temple, they say, was built by the Cretans ; and they show some spears and brazen helmets, inscribed with the names of Meriones, and (with the same spelling as in Latin) of Ulysses, who consecrated them to the Goddesses."
Hartung has discovered another passage in Plutarch {De Defect. Orac. 22), wherein the Mothers are not mentioned,
352 FAUST.
It is true, but which Goethe evidently bore in his mind and applied in this scene : " There are a hundred and eighty- three worlds, which are arranged in the form of a triangle. Each side has sixty worlds in a line, the other three occupying the corners. In this order they touch each other softly, and ever revolve, as in a dance. The space within the triangle is to be considered as a common fold for all, and is called the Field of Truth. Within it lie, moveless, the causes, shapes, and primitive images of all things which have ever existed and which ever shall exist. They are surrounded by Eternity, from which Time flows forth as an effluence upon the worlds."
The reader must bear in mind that Paris and Helena are together typical of the highest and purest physical embodi- ment of the idea of Beauty — the Human Form [vide Note 87 to the First Part), and that Helena, alone, afterwards be- comes the symbol, both of Beauty and of the Classic element in Art and Literature. The Mothers, therefore, (admitting the significance of the name, which suggested their use to Goethe) mu9t of nccc93itv S'y ixibullzi; th6 origmal action of those ele- mental forces in Man, out of whicITgrew the aesthe^tic devel- ' opHieilL of the iace, m whatever^jorm. We may find the primitive source ot ail science in material necessity ; our other knowledge is based upon the operation of natural laws : but the Idea of the Beautiful has a more mysterious origin, springs from a diviner necessity, and finds only hints, not perfect results, in the operations of Nature.
Goethe made it a rule to discover some positive, however dimly outlined. Form, in which to clothe abstract ideas. This is always a difficult and sometimes a hazardous experi- ment. Here the forms, instead of more clearly representing, seem to have further confused the thought, if we may judge from the variety of interpretations which have been offered. Dr. Anster has managed to present the latter with so much brevity, and at the same time so correctly, in his note on this passage, that I follow the order of his summary, only en- larging it by the introduction of additional views and giving a translation of the phrases he quotes.
Eckermann. after taking home Goethe's manuscript anO
NOTES.
353
duly pondering over it, evolved out of his inmost conscious- ness the discovery that the Mothers are the " creating and sustaining principle, from which everything proceeds that hasHle^ahd form on the surface ot' the Earth." KosHm de- nies that they are creative, but says they are the sustaining and conservative principle, adding : " Thev are Goddesses, who preside over the eternal metamorphoses of things, of a^l that already exists." DUntzer calls the Mothers the "primitive forms (or ideas) of things," — Urbilder der Dinge. But, according to Rosenkranz, they are " the Platonic Ideas," while Hartung, agreeing with Duntzer that they are " the primitive forms of things," adds that "they dwell in the desert of speculative thought." Weisse states that they are " the formless realm of the inner world of spirit — the invisi- ble depth of the mind, struggling to bring forth its own con- ceptions." From this view it is but a step to the matrices of Paracelsus, which, in fact, we find partly accepted by Deycks, who sees in the Mothers, as in the matrices, " the elemental or original material of all forms." Riemer'sview is substantially the same, — "they are the elements from which spring all that is corporeal as well as all that is intel- lectual."
The theories which most of the above critics spin from these interpretations are too finely and consistently meta- physical to have been intended by a poet like Goethe, whose nature recoiled from metaphysical systems. Nevertheless, they are all guesses in the same direction, and perhaps if we do not attach too literal a significance to Goethe's mysterious Deep, wherein is no Space, Place, or Time, and are content to stop short of the very " utterly deepest bottom " of conjec- ture, we may get a little nearer to his actual conception. It is not easy to conceive how Formlessness can be represented by Form, though we may very well accept it as a vast, mys- terious background ; and this is all, I feel sure, that Goethe intended.
Schnetger has picked up the most satisfactory clew, Kreyssig has followed it, and Goethe himself has given us an unconscious hint of its correctness. The commentary of
w
154
FAUST.
the first is much too long to be quoted, but it- is substan- tially this : The primitive idea of forms does not exist in Nature, which works according to the pattern set by a First Designer. The realm of the original conceptions of things is therefore outside ofSpace and Time, and the Sl^others are imagmary existences, who typify the unknown and unfathom- able origin of all forms, and cHiefly, here, of those eternal I3eais oFBeauty wHIcH BecomemoreTeal to'ThgT'oet and Affist thanr-tiie never Ptterly perfect~work oT"Nature.
Kreyssig says : " The poet evidently prepares to lead the character of his hero towards that refining and purifying ex- perience, to which he himself consciously owed his greatest gain and his highest joy, — the refinement following an ear- nest, creative worship of those ideals of Beauty which have descended to earth in the masterpieces of classic art. With what fervor Goethe and his equal friend (Schiller) rever- enced these, with what sacred feeling, what severe, devoted solemnity they served at the same shrine, their common activity is a single, continuous evidence. Goethe, especially, dated a new life, a complete spiritual regeneration, from his penetration into the spirit of the ancient masters. A profound withdrawal into himself, an almost abrupt relin- quishment of the society around him, characterized the first
earnest beginning of his studies Only a firm, manly
resolution leads Faust to the sacred tripod, the primitive symbol of Wisdom, through the contact of which he wins power over the primitive forms of things, over the radical conditions of that beautiful state of being, accordant with Nature, which the Artist must know before he can " call the Hero and Heroine from the Shades," and create imperish- able forms as the fair material revelations of his dreams. What Goethe here celebrates under the form of the Mothers enthroned in Solitude, is sung by Schiller, if our instinct does not deceive us, in that thoughtful poem, " of the re- gions where the pure forms dwell."*
In Eckermann's third volume, he describes a conversation which he had with Goethe, during a drive along the Erfurt * Das 'Ideal und das Leben.
NOTES.
355
road, in April, 1827 : " ' I must laugh at the aestheticians {^stheiiker)' said Goethe, 'who so torment themselves to epitomize in a few abstract- words all the unutterable ideas for which we use the expression, beautiful. The Beautiful is a primeval phenomenon, which indeed never becomes visible itself but the reflection of which is seen in a thousand vari- ous expressions of the creative mind, as various and as man- ifold, even, as the phenomena of Nature.'
" * I have often heard it said,' Eckermann remarked, * that Nature is always beautiful, — that she is the despair of the artist, because he is seldom capable of fully equalling her.'
" * I well know,' Goethe answered, ' that Nature often exhibits an unattainable charm ; but I am by no means of the opinion that she is beautiful in all her manifestations. Her designs are always well enough, indeed, but not so the conditions which are necessary in order that the designs shall be completely developed.' "
The realm where the Mothers dwell is visible to the secret vision of the Poet and the Artist. The Goddesses only see " wraiths " ; around them is " Formation, transformation " ; there is no way to them, and no spot whereon to rest, — but who and where they are is clearly revealed in
" The light that never was on sea or land, The consecration and the poet's dream."
They are the unknown, " unreachable," *' unbeseechable " sources of all immortal embodiments of Beauty, — the mys- terious, primeval forces which manifest themselves through Genius in a manner inexplicable to all ordinary human con- sciousness; which remove those who know them far from Space and Time, into a spiritual isolation which only the brother-genius can comprehend, but even he cannot share. In the Dedication to his Poems, Goethe thus addresses the Muse : —
" While yet unguided, I had many comrades ; Now that I know thee, I am left alone."
There might seem a contradiction to the purely aesthetic interpretation of this scene, in the circumstance that Faust
356
FAUST.
is directed to the Mothers by Mephistopheles, but here, as occasionally elsewhere in the Second Part, the mask of Mephistopheles drops and we see the face of Goethe him- self. To insist on the role of Negation, which explains the forms assumed by Mephistopheles in the Carnival Masquer- ade, the Classical Walpurgis-Night, and the Helena, would lead to great confusion. There is, however, a partial return to dramatic truth in the expression of Faust, that he hopes to find his All in the Nothing of Mephistopheles.
45. Here, take this key !
The symbols of the Key and the Tripod have also given rise to much speculation. Their meaning, of course, is en- tirely dependent upon that which may be attributed to the Mothers, since the key is to guide Faust to the latter, and then enable him to gain possession of the tripod, the incense- smoke of which will shape itself into the ideals of Human Beauty. Schnetger and Kreyssig agree that the tripod is a symbol of the profoundest wisdom, and the former attaches to it the idea of "intuition." What we call the intuition of Genius, however, is the highest and purest form of wis- dom, and Goethe, therefore, may have intended to typify that wondrous, unerring instinct, which .from the "airy nothing" of the incense-smoke can evoke the immortal Beautiful. Schnetger considers the key to be a " glowing sense of the charms of the material form." With others, it is a symbol of intense, passionate Desire. If Goethe had specially in view the creation of ideals of Beauty by the Grecian mind, still other meanings would be suggested. We must seek in Nature for the keys to the myths of Greece, which, them- selves, were designed to be keys to Nature.
What Mr. Ruskin says of the works of Homer : *' They were not conceived didactically, but they are didactic in their essence, as all good art is " — is equally true of this and other episodes of the Second Part of Faust. We find traces of that truth which reaches the poet by a deeper intuition, having the involuntary nature, yet also the distinctness, of a dream ; and which always contains more than its utterer can
NOTES. 357
clearly express. He cannot reject it, for it comes to him with an irresistible authority: he must therefore be silent, and suffer it to stand as a mystery for his contemporaries.
46. A gentle kick permit, then, from 7ny foot!
The motive of this scene seems to be, to renew the contrast between the shallow, artificial society of the great world, and pure devotion to ideal aims. At the same time it enables Mephistopheles to resume his old character, and Goethe (through him) to satirize the homceopathic theory of medicine, in the cure of the Brunette.
In the Paralipomena there are two fragments which seem to belong here : —
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Court-doctors must do every service : We with the stars begin, and then Come down at last to corns and bunions.
The dapper race of courtiers here
Was only born for our vexation :
If some poor devil once is right, 't is clear
The King thereof will never hear narration.
47. Herald.
The Herald, whose office is to proclaim in advance the character of the action, acknowledges himself baffled : he sees only " a wiklering distraction " in the coming perform- ance, and therefore describes the scene instead. Even in the few lines of description there is a covert satire. The Emperor is placed where he may comfortably see the pictures of battles ; in the background are lovers, who recognize in the occasion only an opportunity for coming together.
Goethe intended at one time to introduce a play, as in " Hamlet," and he appears to have chosen Fortinbras, Ham- let's successor, as the hero. The fragment of a scene which remains gives us no hint of the character of the play, nor can we be certain that it would have been introduced in con- nection with the appearance of Paris and Helena. Never- theless, the fragment may be here given : —
358 FAUST.
Theatre. {The actor, who plays the King, appears to have become tveary)
Mephistopheles. Bravo, old Fortinbras, old chap ! You are feeling badly; from my heart I 'm sorry for you. Make an effort, — only a few words more ! We shall not soon again hear a King talk.
Chancellor. Instead of that, we shall have the fortune, to hear the wise remarks of His Majesty the Emperor so much the oftener.
MEPHiSTOPHELEg. That is something very different. Your Excellency need not protest. What we other wizards say is quite unprejudicial.
Faust. Hush ! hush ! he moves again.
Actor. Depart, thou ancient swan, depart ! Blessed be thou for thy last song, and all the good which thou hast spoken. The evil, which thou wert obliged to do, is small
Lord High Steward. Do not speak so loud ! The Emperor sleeps ; His Majesty does not seem well.
Mephistopheles. His Majesty has only to give the order, and we will cease. Besides, the spirits have nothing more to say.
Faust. Why do you look around?
Mephistopheles. Where, then, are the apes hidden ? I hear them talking all the time.
48. Architect.
The scene upon the stage is a Doric temple ; the massive character of the pillars is here hinted, and the triglyphs are afterwards mentioned. By introducing the Architect, Goethe means not only to satirize the exclusive devotion of the Ger- man mind to Gothic art, but also to show how the Classic and Romantic repel each other when first brought into con- tact. It was simply necessary that he should remember the character of his own development. In 1772 he published an essay " On German Architecture " (the word German being purposely used instead of Gothic), containing a glowing pan- egyric on Erwin von Steinbach, the architect of Strasburg Cathedral. Yet in 1810 he wrote to Count Reinhard : " For- merly I had also a great interest in these things, and cher- ished a sort of idolatry for the Strasburg Cathedral, the fa9ade of which I still consider, as then, greater than that at Cologne. But the most singular thing to me is our German patriotism, which endeavors to represent the evident Sara- cenic growth as having originally sprung up on German soil."
The Doric temples at Girgenti and Paestum produced such
NOTES. 359
a profound impression upon Goethe's mind, that, by ^ nat- ural reaction, he was for a time repelled by Gothic art. In describing the architrave of the Temple of Antoninus and Faustina, in Rome, he wrote : " This is indeed something other than our cringing saints of the finical Gothic spirit, piled one over another on brackets and corbels, — some- thing other than our tobacco-pipe columns, pointed turrets and flowery pinnacles. From these, thank God, I am now eternally delivered ! "
49. Whatever once was^ there burns and brightens free In splendor — for V would fain eternal be.
Faust's invocation, it seems to me, cannot easily be inter- preted from any other point of view than that which I have chosen for the Mothers. The expression " Whate'er once was " certainly does not apply to all forms of Life upon the earth — still less to abstract thoughts, speculations, or philo- sophical systems. What can it be but all creations of Beauty, whether lost to the world or still possessed ? They would fain be eternal, and the Artist never admits to himself that they have actually perished. In that mysterious realm of the imagination where their forms were first designed, they still exist as "wraiths," in company with all those forms which never advanced from design to fulfilment, — with the unwritten poems of Homer, and Dante, and Shakespeare, the unchiselled gods of Phidias, the completed Dawn of Michel Angelo, the unpainted dreams of Tintoretto and Raphael. I interpret the line: —
" Life seizes some, along his gracious course," as referring less to the life of these conceptions in Art, than to the occasional revelations of the Beautiful in Man and Nature. The Magician, who arrests other forms, and " be- stows as his faith inspires " would then be the Artist, whose nature is for the time (as we have already seen) typified in Faust.
50. Who doth not know the gent It Paris well ? The description of the Doric temple first prepares us for
36o FAUST.
the apparition of the Grecian ideals of Beauty, and now the mysterious music, the ringing of the shafts and triglyphs, the singing of the whole bright temple, is introduced with won- derful effect. When Paris advances " with rhythmic step," we have a suggestion of Poetry, in addition to Music and Architecture, so that all Art celebrates the coming of the highest dream of Beauty in the Human Form.
The personages of the Imperial Court not only represent, through their comments on Paris and Helena, the manner in which the Artist's purest achievements present themselves to commonplace and conventional natures, but, if Riemer be correct, they have a personal character, also. He says : " To the Weimar public, or rather to the privileged persons of the Weimar Court circle, there was an element of interest which we cannot feel : the six or seven ladies and gentlemen who take part in the dialogue represented well-known persons."
This scene may have been suggested by one of Count Ham- ilton's tales, " The Enchanter Faustus," wherein the latter calls up Helen of Troy, and other women noted for their beauty, before Queen Elizabeth and her Court. The impres- sion which Helen makes upon the Queen and courtiers is so similar to Goethe's description, that I quote a portion of it: —
" This figure walked a certain time before the company, and then turning face to face with the queen, that she might have a better view of her, took leave of her with a kind of half-pleasant, half-haggard smile, and went out by the other door.
" As soon as she had disappeared, the queen exclaimed, * What ! is that the lovely Helen ,? Well, I don't plume myself on my beauty,' she continued, ' but may I die, if I would change faces with her, even if it were possible.'
" ' I told your Majesty as much,' replied the magician, * and yet you saw her exactly as she appeared when in the very zenith of her beauty.'
" * Still,' said Lord Essex, ' I think her eyes may be con- sidered fine.'
" * It must be admitted,' rejoined Sydney, * that they are
NOTES. 361
large, nobly shaped, black, and sparkling, but what expres- sion is there in them ? '
" ' Not a particle,' replied the favorite. The queen, whose face that day was as red as a turkey-cock's, asked them what they thought of Helen's porcelain complexion.
" ' Porcelain ! ' cried Essex, • 't is but common delf at the best.'
" • Perhaps,' continued the queen, ' such may have been the fashion in her time, but you must agree with me that there never could have been an age when such a pair of feet would be tolerated. I don't dislike her dress, however, and I 'm not sure whether I shall not bring it into fashion instead of those horrid hoops, so embarrassing on certain occasions to us women, and on others to you men.' "
5 1 . The form, that long erewhile my fancy captured. This is one of the few references to the First Part, which we find in the Second. Faust remembers the form which he saw in the magic mirror, in the Witches' Kitchen (First Part, Scene VI.), and which, we may now be sure, was nei- ther Margaret nor Helena, but, as I have already stated, the beauty of the female form. There, it was the visible beauty, as it is more or less developed in every living form : here, it is the perfect Ideal. Let the reader compare the expression of Faust's passion for Margaret (First Part, Scene XII.) : —
To yield dne wholly, and to feel a rapture, In yielding, that must be eternal 1 Eternal ! — for the end would be despair. No, no, — no ending ! no ending !
with the ecstasy following the revelation of an aesthetic
Ideal : —
'T is thou, to whom the stir of all my forces.
The essence of my passion's forces, —
Love, fancy, worship, madness, — here I render !
and the meaning of the passage cannot be doubtful to any one who appreciates the fine spiritual passion which pos- sesses the Poet and the Artist. Kreyssig alone, of all the German commentators, seems to
VOL. IL 16 —
362
FAUST.
have comprehended the spirit of this scene. He says : " The Artist has seen his Ideal. His joy, his yearning, rises to a burning desire, to a resolution so powerful that nothing can intimidate it. Again the old, passionate blood seethes, al- though now warmed by a nobler fire. The impetuous, rash attempt to win at one blow as a permanent possession that which has only been revealed in a fleeting glimpse, fails, like his former attempt, through that radical law, which only gives the most precious gifts in return for labor and patience. The apparition vanishes, and in the abrupt reaction we see him, who would fain be superhuman, lying senseless on the earth. The first assault of his ambitious claim has been re- sisted, but his resolution remains irrevocable. He cannot, now, remain longer at the Emperor's Court. The man of ideal vision and creation must equally fail to find his place there, as formerly among the dissolute groups of the Blocks- berg. The period of his intellectually-artistic development and maturity commences, and the poet inaugurates it by a series of sometimes varied and fantastic allegories, in order to complete it afterwards in the Third Act, the scenes of which are excellent and truly dramatic, in spite of all their symbolism and allegory."
It is a great consolation to find a view which one can so heartily and totally accept.
52. I call the piece : The Rape of Helena. The Astrologer, apparently, only uses this expression in order to excite Faust by the apprehension of loss, and thus bring about the catastrophe with which the act closes. In the line.
Here foothold is ! Realities here centre !
we have a striking contrast to Faust's impatience and dis- gust with the results of all knowledge, in the opening mono- logue of the First Part. It is almost a prophecy of that supreme content which would delay the flying Moment ; and Mephistopheles might hope soon to claim his wager, but for the circumstance that his negative nature is utterly incapable^ of comprehending Faust's passion for the Beautiful.
NOTES. 363
Schnetger says : " The title (The Rape of Helena) simply means to express more clearly that the form was only a prophetic vision, and now vanishes ; that Faust is not yet sufficiently advanced to retain the Beautiful ; that Helena, the highest ideal of Art, resembles that form of the Shades, which seems so near that Faust cries : ' How can she nearer be ! ' and yet is ever stolen from him who would too impetu- ously grasp her."
Mr. Lowell, in his poem of " Hebe," expresses the same
idea: —
" O spendthrift Haste ! await the Gods ; Their nectar crowns the lips of Patience ;
Haste scatters on unthankful sods The immortal gift in vain libations."
There is one slight concluding puzzle in this scene. If the key which P'aust holds represents Desire, why should it be aimed (in the manner of a pistol) against Paris } The latter is here a part of the ideal Beauty. If the act indicates more than Faust's unthinking rashness, I cannot explain it.
53. Mephistopheles {coming forth from behind a curtain).
In December, 1829, Goethe read the opening scene of the Second Act to Eckermann. At its close, he said : " The conception is so old, and I have so carried and considered it in my mind for fifty years, that the material has greatly increased, and my most difficult work, at present, consists in selection and rejection. The invention of the entire Second Part oi Faust is really as old as I say.* Hence it may be an advantage to the work, that I now write it, after all the affairs of life have become so much clearer to me. My experience is like that of one who possesses in youth a great many small silver and copper coins, which he gradually exchanges in the course of his life, until he finally sees all his early wealth lying before him as pieces of pure gold."
If, as seems probable from the evidence, the dialogue be-
* Goethe must mean, here, the original conception or ground-plan of the whole, certainly not the arrangement of the separate scenes or the in- troduction of episodes which were suggested at a i»iuch later date.
364
FAUST.
tween Mephistopheles and the Baccalaureus was written some thirty or forty years before, the opening pages of the scene may undoubtedly be referred to the year 1829. What Goethe says of its conception must not be taken too literally. We may guess that his first intention was to give Faust a part to play in ,his old Gothic chamber : the reappearance of the Student of the First Part as Baccalaureus seems to be hardly a sufficient motive for the return to Place and the purposed contrast of Time. Mephistopheles, whose part, throughout -TV" the period of Faust's aesthetic development (Acts II. and III.), is supposed to be Ignorance as well as Negation, for- gets himself in almost the first words he speaks : —
" Whom Helena shall paralyze Not soon his reason will recover."
The idea of the Beautiful is this " insane root," which, in the eyes of conventional humanity, takes the Artist's reason prisoner. Faust lies senseless until he reaches the Pharsa- lian Fields, in the Classical Walpurgis-Night, and Goethe, meanwhile, becomes prompter to Mephistopheles, as the latter was to the Astrologer. The reader must be warned not to expect any dramatic consistency in this and the follow- ing scene. While writing them, the First Part, it is very evident, was constantly before Goethe's mind, not as a still secret and vital inspiration, but as something gone from him forever, something considered, judged and set in its place by the world, shorn of the joy of private possession and power- less to reproduce its own original power. He translates his thoughts from the natural language of Age into that of Youth, and, as in all translation, he is not quite equal to the original.
54. Crotchets forever must be hatched. There is a pun in the German which cannot be given. Grillen means both crickets and crotchets or splenetic humors, the first reference being to the insects which Mephistopheles has shaken out of the old fur. In describing this act Goethe makes use of the word farfarellen to designate one variety of insects, — probably a mistake, intended for the Italian
NOTES.
365
word farfalette^ which has the same double meaning as Grillen.
Taking these two words in connection with the foregoing satire of Mephistopheles, we may conjecture that the ** Cho- rus of Insects" is intended to represent all the whims, crotchets, and theories of mechanical scholarship, — the ver- miniferous life which is bred in the mould of pedantry. At the close of Scene III., First Part, Mephistopheles declares himself to be
" The lord of rats and eke of mice, Of flies and bedbugs, frogs and lice,"
for which reason, apparently, the insects hail him as patron and father. Diintzer says : " The Devil ridicules the dead scholarship, the waste and mould of the chamber, wherein Grillen must ever be produced : we might even suppose that the insects, especially the farf alette (moths) and cicadas, are an indication of the crotchets and distorted views of life to which savans are so easily disposed."
55. Baccalaureus.
The new Famulus, who is a spiritual descendant of the Wagner of the First Part, is introduced to give Mephis- topheles the opportunity of continuing his irony. Some imagine that in the latter's description of the immense repu- tation and authority which Wagner has acquired Goethe intended a reference to the extravagant popularity which Fichte enjoyed at the University of Jena. Inasmuch as the irony of the passage is sufficiently clear without this personal application, I do not think it necessary to give the grounds on which the conjecture is based.
It seems to me evident that the conversation between Mephistopheles and the Baccalaureus (commencing on page 90) is one of the earlier fragments. Frau von Kalb de- clared that Goethe read to her the whole or a portion of it, at least twelve years before the publication of the First Part, consequently in 1796, about which time there are passages in the correspondence with Schiller which furnish an indirect
366
FAUST.
explanation of some of the expressions. The Baccalaureus, moreover, is so admirable and consistent a continuation of the Student, and Mephistopheles (except at the very close of the interview) is so like his old self, that the reader of the original cannot help remarking the difference in execution. I trust there may be some evidence of it in the translation. The earlier passage commences at the line : " If, ancient Sir," etc.
Eckermann asked Goethe vjrhether a certain class of ideal philosophers was not typified in the Baccalaureus.
" No," said Goethe ; " he is the personification of that presumption which specially belongs to youth, and of which we had so many striking examples in the years immediately after our War of Liberation. Every one, however, believes, in his young days, that the world really began with him, and that everything exists for his individual sake. Thus there was once a man in the Orient, who assembled his people about him every morning and suffered them not to begin their labors until he had commanded the sun to rise. Of course he was shrewd enough not to utter the command until the sun was on the point of rising without it."
In an earlier conversation (upon a work of Schubart), Goethe said : " I have always kept myself entirely free from Philosophy : my standpoint was that of sound human under- standing."
56. But don't go, absolute, home from here. There is a philosophical antithesis implied in the words "resolute" and "absolute," in this couplet. Mephistoph- eles uses the former word in its double sense of " deter- mined" and "dissolved," while the latter, according to Kreyssig, is a sarcastic allusion to the Hegelian philosophy. It would seem from what follows, however, that Goethe had Fichte in his mind, rather than Hegel.
57- When one has passed his thirtieth year. One then is just the same as dead. The reference to Fichte is here not to be mistaken. The
NOTES. 367
following passage occurs in his works : " When they have passed their thirtieth year, one well might wish, for their own reputation and the advantage of the world, that they would die ; since, from that age on, their lives will only be an increasing damage to themselves and their associa- tions."
When Fichte first appeared as Professor at Jena in 1794, Goethe was very favorably inclined towards him and his theory, but the prepossession gradually wore away, partly in consequence of Fichte's boundless assumption of infallibility, and partly, no doubt, from the indiscreet conflict of his disci- ples with the much smaller circle around Goethe and Schil- ler. The latter writes, on one occasion : " According to Fichte's own expressions, the Me is also creative through its representations, and all reality exists only in the Me. The world, to him, is nothing but a ball which the Me tosses up, and which, in its contemplation, it catches again ! He thus actually seems to have declared his own Godhood, as we recently anticipated."
The expression of the Baccalaureus :
" Save through my will, no Devil can there be,"
and the magnificent glorification of the Idea, with which he departs from the chamber, certainly do not simply express the ordinary presumption of youth. If the reader will recall the stanza headed " Idealist," in the Intermezzo of the First Part, which was also written in 1796 (a circumstance corrob- orative of Frau von Kalb's testimony), and which is univer- sally accepted as a representation of Fichte, he will recog- nize precisely the same features here.
58. Who can think wise or stupid things at ally That were not thought already in the Past? Goethe was acquainted with a little-known volume of ^*erne, some of the maxims of which, translated by himself, were found cmong his papers and ignorantly published as original fragments by Eckermann and Riemer. The work, which is entitled : " The Koran, or Essays, Sentiments,
368 FAUST.
Characters, and Callimachies of Tria Junctain Uno, M. N. A. or Master of No Arts," was published in Vienna in 1798. There appears to have been an earlier edition ; but I am unable to say, in view of certain resemblances between Sterne and Lichtenberg, which borrowed from the other. The following passage is undoubtedly Sterne's : —
" But that nothing is new under the sun was declared by Solomon some years ago : and it is impossible to provide against evils that have already come to pass. So that I am sure I have reason to cry out, with Donatus, apud Jerom — Pereant qui ante nos nostra dixerunt ! For I have ever wrote without study, books, or example, and yet have been charged with having borrowed this hint from Rabelais, that from Montaigne, another from Martinus Scriblerus, etc., without having ever read the first or remembered a word of the latter.
" So that, all we can possibly say of the most original au- thors, nowadays, is not that they say anything new, but only that they are capable of saying such and such things thems'elves, ' if they had never been said before them.' But as monarchs have a right to call in the specie of a state, and raise its value, by their own impression ; so there are certain prerogative geniuses, who are above plagiaries, — who can- not be said to steal, but, from their improvement of a thought^ rather to borrow it, and repay the commonwealth of letters with interest again ; and may more properly be said to adopt, than to kidnap, a sentiment, by leaving it heir to their own fame."
Goethe, in his conversations, very emphatically repeated this view. In 1825, he said : " People talk forever of Origi- nality, but what does it all mean ! As soon as we are born the world begins to operate upon us, and continues to do so to the end. And everywhere, what can we call specially our own, except energy, strength, and will ? If I should declare for how much I am indebted to great predecessors and con- temporaries, there would not be a great deal left."
Three years later, he thus expressed himself to Eckermann : " It is true that we bring capacities into life with us, but we owe our development to the thousand influences of a great
NOTES. 369
world, from which we assimilate all we can. I owe much to the Greeks and to the French ; my debt to Shakespeare, Sterne, and Goldsmith is immeasurably great. Nevertheless, the sources of my culture are not therewith indicated : to name them all would be an endless task, and to no purpose. The main thing is, that a man has a soul loving the Truth, and accepting it wherever he finds it. But the world is now so old, and for thousands of years past so many important men have lived and thought, that few positively new things can be discovered and said."
The expression of Mephistopheles, however, seems to have been more directly suggested by a line in Terence : Nullum est jam dictum, quod non dictum sit prius.
The sudden introduction of a theatrical detail at the close of this scene is a piece of satirical wilfulness on Goethe's part. The younger auditors in the parquet do not applaud, because they are all in sympathy with the Baccalaureus, even as the students of Jena, severally and collectively, were en- thusiastic disciples of Fichte. The movement among the German youth, which culminated in the famous Wartburg convention of 181 7, was extremely distasteful to Goethe, and led to a coolness on the part of the students which did not pass away until the next generation. From various utter- ances of Goethe on this alienation of youth from him, I quote the following verse : —
As the old ones sung once,
So twittered then the young ones ;
The young now give the rhythm.
And old must sing it with 'em.
When such the tune and will is,
The best thing, to keep still is.
59. HOMUNCULUS.
This whimsical, artificial mannikin is, in reality, the chief personage in Act II. Since he is no less an enigma to the critics than the mysterious " Mothers," and suggests even a greater variety of meanings in the course of his adventures, it will not be so easy to give, in advance, a full and satisfac- tory explanation of his character. I prefer, therefore, to offer 16* X
370 FAUST.
the reader choice of several tracks, leaving that which I be- lieve to be the true one to be further followed in succeeding notes.
The name and mode of origin of Homunculus are taken from Paracelsus, and some hint of the character, possibly, from Sterne. The former, in the first book of his De Gene- raiione Rerum, says : " But now the generatio homunculorum is by no means to be forgotten. For there is something in it ; although such has hitherto been held in the greatest se- crecy, and there has been no small doubt and question among divers of the old philosophers, whether it may even be possi- ble, that a man may be born without the natural mother. Thereto I answer, that it is not at all contrary to the ars Spagyrica and to Nature, but is quite possible. And although such has hitherto been concealed from the natural man, yet was it not concealed from the sylvestres, and nymphs, and giants, but long ago revealed, whence also they originate. For from such homunculis they grow to full age, monstrous dwarfs and other like wonderful creatures, which are em- ployed as powerful agencies, are victorious over their ene- mies and know secret things, whic*h men otherwise could not know. And by art they receive their life, by art they receive body, flesh, bones, and blood ; by art are they born : there- fore Art is in them incarnate and self-existing, so that they need not learn it from any man, but are so by Nature, even as roses and other flowers."
Paracelsus thereupon gives minute and exact directions how the Homunculus may be created ; and the attempt has no doubt been actually made thousands of times. Sterne, in the second chapter of Tristram Shandy, treats the subject with more than his usual wit and grace, averring that the Homunculus is as much a man and a brother as the Lord Chancellor of England. The attraction which such a con- ception (intellectually speaking) presented to Goethe's mind may be readily guessed, and a curious coincidence probably led to its embodiment in this scene. The philosopher, Jo- hann Jacob Wagner,* seems to have possessed some of the
* He was born at Ulm in 1775, and died there in 1841. He studied at
NOTES.
371
characteristics of his namesake of the First Part. After the appearance of the latter, in 1808, Prof. Kohler, of WUrzburg, gave a lecture upon it, in which, either as jest or malice, he declared that his fellow-professor was the original of Faust's Famulus. About the same time, Wagner propounded the most astonishing views in his lectures, some of which — as, for instance, " all organisms are nothing but developed met- als," and the assertion that " Chemistry would finally suc- ceed in producing organic bodies, even in creating human beings by crystallization " — were repeated all over Germany, and must have reached Goethe's ears. The scene, as it stands, was thus suggested to him ; for the attempt to create life artificially harmonizes completely with the lifeless pedan- try of which Wagner is the representative.
Professor Wagner was an enthusiastic admirer of the origi- nal " Fragment " of Faust. He lectured upon it, and even published an analysis of the work, in 1839; but he rejected both the Second Part and the additions to the First Part which appeared in 1808 !
Nothing which Goethe has himself said concerning Ho- munculus will much enlighten us. Indeed, his expressions seem to have been purposely uncertain and mystical : both here, and in his remarks upon Euphorion, the care with which he guarded the Key-secret is very apparent. After reading the scene to Eckermann (December 16, 1829), he said : " You will have noticed, in general, that Mephistopheles appears to a disadvantage in contrast with Homunculus, who is his equal in intellectual clearness, and much his superior through his inclination for the Beautiful and for a promotive activity Besides, he calls him Sir Cousin ; for spiritual beings, like Homunculus, who were not obscured and limited by a com-
Jena and Gottingen, and was for many years Professor in Wurzburg. Among his works are " A Theory of Warmth and Light," " A System of Ideal Philosophy," " Philosophy of Education," " Political Economy," "Philosophy and Medicine," and "The Principle of Life." He was most noted for his attempt to construct a philosophical "Tetrad," from the systems of Kant, Fichte, Schelling^ and himselfc He had, at one time, a circle of devout believers*
372
FAUST.
plete human incorporation, were classed among the Daemons, and therefore a sort of relationship may be presumed between the two/'
" Mephistopheles," said Eckermann, " certainly appears here in a subordinate position ; but I cannot escape the idea that he is secretly implicated in the creation of Homunculus, according to our former knowledge of him, and also from his appearance in the Helena as a secretly-working agency. Thus he is again elevated, as a whole, and, with his superior impassiveness, he may overlook some of the details."
" You have a very just instinct of the relation," said Goethe ; " it is really so ; and I have already reflected whether, when Mephistopheles goes to Wagner, and Homunculus is coming into being, I should not put some lines in his mouth, which might make his co-operation clear to the reader."
" There would be no harm in that," Eckermann answered. " Yet it is already hinted, when Mephistopheles closes the scene with the words : —
' Upon the creatures we have made We are, ourselves, at last, dependent.' "
The following additional note was found among Riemer's posthumous papers : " In answer to my question, what Goethe meant to represent in Homunculus, Eckermann said : Goethe thereby meant to present the pure Entelechie ['E»'Te- X^Xem, an Aristotelian word signifying the actual being of a thingj, the Reason, the Spirit, as it enters life before experi- ence ; for the Soul of Man is highly endowed on its arrival, and we by no means learn everything, we bring much with us.* To Goethe himself the world was very early opened, in advance of experience ; he penetrated it, before he knew it through his life. He also pointed out to Eckermann the shrewdness and attentive perception of his little granddaugh- ter Alma. Yes, Goethe himself has a sort of respect for Homunculus."
* " Not in entire forgetfulness. And not in utter nakedness, But trailing clouds of glory, do we come."
Wordsworth,
NOTES. 373
There is probably a good deal of purposed mystification in all this. Nothing that is here reported explains the office of Homunculus as guide to the Classical Walpurgis-Night and the prominent part which he there plays, to the exclusion of Faust. Let us now consider, as briefly as possible, some of the most important interpretations of the critics- Weisse says : " Homunculus is the objective expression, the hypo- static form of Faust's present spiritual condition, struggling for a new birth into another and unknown condition of exist- ence." Leutbecher's explanation is : " He appears as the /As personification of that spiritual condition in Faust, which, sprung to life in the realm of external, mechanical scholar- ship, and awakened by the keen irony of sensuous being, is furthered by the repose of the genuine and truly poetical spirit, — a condition in which he first overlooks the whole mythical world of antiquity, and through which it is possible for him to comprehend the being of the True, the Ethical, and the Beautiful, which that world holds concealed."
Another series of opinions, having some metaphysical or psychological relationship to the above, may next be quoted. Duntzer says : " Homunculus is the thoughtful, striving force, urged in vital, self-conscious power towards the Ideal Beauty, which it hopes to attain, not, like Faust, by a wild assault, but by a gradual and certain march." According to Horn, he is " the yearning for the creation of the Beautiful," while Rotscher considers that he is an embodiment of Faust's imperious yearning for the original home-land of Art Schnetger takes a similar idea, and compresses it into a more definite form. *' Homunculus," says he, " is the hu- man embryo, the germ of the perfectly beautiful human frame ; he is the highest Beauty, developed through a scale of thousands of forms, — in a word, he is the embryo of He- lena ! . . . . Homunculus is Human Beauty in process of creation, Helena and Galatea are Created Beauty."
I add, in conclusion, those interpretations which vary more or less widely from. the foregoing. Hartung declares that "what Helena is to Faust, that is Homunculus to Mephistopheles, a creation of his fancy, and, nevertheless, his
X
374
FA [/ST.
ruling spirit." He ignores any connection between Homun- culus and Faust. Rosenkranz simply states that Homuncu- lus is a ** comical " figure, who, at the close of the Classical Walpurgis-Night, "manifests himself as Eros." Kostlin says, with unconcealed irritation : '* Grant that the new spirit is dramatically necessary, grant that he is cleverly invented, the figure is and remains an unedifying trick, a ridiculous image, with which the poet himself plays a game which totally annihilates it. It is difiicult to say, indeed, what should have appeared in place of this Homunculus,
but that is no excuse for the poet The figure suffers
from the contradiction, that it is comical and not comical, at the same time." Deycks thinks he is an elemental spirit, perhaps of fire, and adds : " He appears as born Knowl- edge, yet yearning for the real, corporeal. He endeavors to find them in the natural knowledge of the ancients, and returns to the element^, as fire, like phosphorus in union with water." Friedrich von Sallet considered him to be German Poetry before Schiller and Goethe, and Julian Schmidt Greek- Romantic Poetry.
Kreyssig, who insists that the reader must approach this part of the drama with *' a vital, receptive spirit, free from prejudice or prepossession," if he wishes to enjoy and under- stand it, endeavors to solve the problem in a different man- ner. He attaches a special meaning to the relation between Wagner and Homunculus, accepting the former as a type of solid research and knowledge, while he sees in Faust a per- sonification of Genius. " What the explorer has laboriously produced," he says^ "becomes a living light to Genius, guid- ing him into regions which Fate has closed against the former." Kreyssig does not seem to perceive that this living light (Homunculus) is a quality inherent in Genius itself, and not in the productions of scientific research. Yet he approaches, unconsciously, a little nearer the secret, in the passage : " We know in what full measure the funda- mental law of a healthy artistic deyelopment was exemplified in Goethe's life ; how he, in the maturity of his power, far from the daring wantonness of the ' Storm and Stress ' years,
NOTES. 375
found no forn. of knowledge dry and unimportant which had any bearing on Nature and Art ; how he studied at the same time Geology, Botany, Anatomy, Optics, and Metrics, the history of Literature and Art."
I am satisfied that much more of Goethe's own struggle towards a higher intellectual and aesthetic development is reflected in the Second Part of Faust, than the critics seem willing to admit. The first three Acts are saturated, through and through, with his intellectual subjectiveness. It was not his habit of mind to build theories, nor could he have taken the least interest in the representation of abstract ideas. He was never satisfied until the vaguest gossamer-wraith of the imagination had found some corresponding reality of form. A careful study of his correspondence with Schiller and Zelter will illuminate all this portion of the drama with a multitude of broken and transient lights, which may some- times confuse, but, in the end, will discover much that seemed hidden at first.
My impression that the Boy Charioteer, Homunculus and Euphorion, are one and the same elfish, elusive Spirit, which is the Poetic Genius of Goethe himself (as its entelecheia, other allegorical garments behig thrown over it at will), grew into very distinct form as a feeling, or instinct, before I made any endeavor to apply it. Such an interpretation does not reject those of Weisse, Leutbecher, Diintzer, Horn, Rotscher, or Schnetger : it only completes and harmonizes all of them. Leutbecher, indeed, stops a little short of the same view, when he says : " As in the First Part, Wagner and Mephistopheles are personifications of certain tenden- cies in Faust, so also here the same thing must be assumed, and Homunculus is added as the personification of a new tendency." Now, in 1827, in speaking of Ampere's review of Faust, Goethe said : " He has expressed himself no less \ntelligently, in asserting that not only the gloomy, unsatis- fied striving of the chief personage, but also the scoffing and sharp irony of Mephistopheles, are parts of my own being."
Add to this confession the play of that pranksome [muth- willig) spirit in Goethe, which even age could not tame,
J 76 FAUST.
and his delight in mystification, which had constant food in the respectful credulity of lesser intellects, and I find it easy to understand how he has confused, in endeavoring to con- ceal, his design. There will be sufficient opportunity to add whatever illustrations are possible, before we reach the end of the Classical Walpurgis-Night ; and I will, now, only beg the reader to notice that the Ideal which led Goethe onward and upward during the best years of his life, is very nearly described in the words of Paracelsus, — " Art is in them in- carnate and self-existing, so that they need not learn it from any man, but are so \yj Nature, even as roses and other flowers."
60. Fair scenery !
In this passage Homunculus describes the dream of the sleeping Faust, which is visible to him alone. Faust has already gone further back towards the origin of Beauty, in this picture of Helena's parents, Leda and the Swan-Jupiter. The separation of the Classic and Romantic elements, which commenced in the First Act, now becomes complete, and the occupation of Mephistopheles — at least in his original character — is gone for a time. Eckermann said to Goethe, after the latter had read the manuscript of the passage : " Through this dream of Leda in the Second Act, the Helena afterwards wins its proper foundation. There much is said of swans and the swan-begotten ; but here the event is pic- tured, and when one, with the impression on his senses, comes afterwards to Helena, how much more distinct and complete everything will appear ! "
Goethe assented to this, and said : " You will also find that already, throughout these first acts, the Classic and the Romantic vibrate, and come to expression, so that, as by a gradually ascending slope, we are carried upwards to the Helena, where both forms of Poetry come prominently to the light and find a species of adjustment."
The ignorance of Mephistopheles concerning the Classical Walpurgis-Night is accounted for by the fact that he is a Gothic, mediaeval Devil, from the North, and " brought forth
NOTES. 37 7
in the age of mist." The classic world had ceased before he began to exist. He has brought Faust to the old study to recover ; but Homunculus sees that (like Goethe in Weimar before his Italian journey) Faust will die unless he is in- stantly transported to the land where his dream can be made a reality.
6i. But, clear Her seen, 'tis slave that fights with slave.
Goethe, here, entirely forgets Mephistopheles and speaks with his own voice. There are many slips of the kind, as the reader will have already noticed, but none quite so un- dramatic as this.
The scene, although not strictly geographically correct, is admirably chosen, since the classic age may be said to ter- minate with the Battle of Pharsalia (B. C. 48). The Peneus and Tempe, Greece beyond Pindus, on the right, Olympus and Ossa overlooking the plain, the sea in front, with Samo- thrace, Lesbos, Tenedos, and the Troad beyond, — these are the features, not all visible, but all suggested by the locality.
62. / may detect the dot upon the " /."
This expression (which Goethe sometimes uses in his cor- respondence to denote finish, completion) is explained by the endeavor of Homunculus, afterwards, to break the glass in which his artificial being is confined, and commence a free and natural existence. A scientific as well as a literary meaning is thereby suggested, and the clews to both will be found in the true history of Goethe's own development.
63. Upon the creatures we have made
We are, ourselves, at last, dependent.
These are the lines quoted by Eckermann to Goethe, as an evidence that Homunculus is really the creation of Mephis- topheles, and not of Wagner. Goethe's answer was : " You -h^ are quite right. To an attentive reader, the lines might be almost enough ; but I will reflect, nevertheless, whether there should not be other hints."
378
FAUST.
^
" But that conclusion," Eckermann then said, " contains a great meaning, which is not to be exhausted so easily."
"I should think," Goethe answered, "there was proven- der enough in it, to last for a time. A father, who has six sons, is lost, no matter what disposition he may make of himself. Also kings and ministers, who have placed many persons in high offices, may apply this profitably to their own experience."
The other lines, wherein the co-operation of Mephistoph- eles in producing Homunculus is indicated, — which were either not noticed by Eckermann or afterwards added by Goethe, — are the following.
On page 88 : —
An entrance why should he deny me ?
I '11 expedite his luck, if he '11 but try me !
On pages 96 and 97 : —
Thou rogue, Sir Cousin ! here I find thee, too? And at the proper time ! My thanks are due : A lucky fortune led thee here to me.
Thou art adroit in shortening my way.
64. Classical Walpurgis-night.
This allegory occupies the same place in the Second Act, as the Carnival Masquerade in the First, and, like it, is a digression from the direct course of the drama. Unlike it, however, its substance is poetic rather than didactic. Nei- ther the many puzzles which it contains, nor the wilful spirit in which Goethe has loaded his original, purely aesthetic design with a weight of extraneous scientific ideas, can restrain the breeze of Poetry which blows through it, fresh from the mountains and seas and isles of Greece.
When we have once accepted his double intention of con- ducting Faust to a higher plane of life through the awaken- ing and development of his sense of Beauty, and, at the same time, of bringing together the Classic and Romantic ele- ments in Literature and Art, in order to reconcile them in a region lofty enough to abolish all fashions of Race and Tim^
jVOTES. 379
we have no difficulty in fancying how the plan of a Classical Walpurgis-Night must have presented itself to Goethe's mind, as a pendant to the Walpurgis-Night of the First Part, which is Gothic, Mediaeval, Romantic. We may also conjecture that it was no easy task to arrange the scenes and figures of such an episode, as a natural framework, capable of enclosing both the allegory and the narrative, — the former so airy, subtile, and shifting, that, while it could only be expressed through Form, it perpetually eluded the con- finement of forms of thought, and the course of the latter so determined in advance by the completed Helena^ that it could not further accommodate itself to the allegory.
There is direct evidence that this difficulty of execution was felt by Goethe, no doubt with his first conception of the episode. The first sketch, or outline, was probably made in 1800, while he was writing the Walpurgis-Night, and when the first pages of the Hehna were produced. We have Eck- ermann's testimony that it was only a sketch in 1827, when Goethe said to him : " The plan exists, indeed, but the great difficulty is yet to be overcome ; and the execution really de- pends altogether too much on sheer good-luck. The Classi- cal Walpurgis-Night must be written in rhymes, and yet everything must wear an antique character. It is not easy to invent the proper form of verse : and then, the dialogue ! " Eckermann asked if that was not already planned in the sketch. " The What, I may say," Goethe answered, " but not the How. And then, just consider how much must be said in that wild night! Faust's address to Proserpine, moving her to restore Helena, — what speech must that be, which shall move Proserpine herself to tears ! Nothing of all this is easy to do: a great deal depends on luck,
^ yes, almost entirely upon the feeling and power of the moment."
The poetic elaboration of this early sketch, which must have been in prose, was not commenced until January, 1830,
and was finished, as we learn from Eckermann's letter from
Geneva, in August of that year, the eighty-first of Goethe's life ! He knew how to detect and secure his fortunate
^'
380 FAUST.
moods ; the plan was traced out, like the pattern of a piece of embroidered tapestry, and he worked here and there, ac- cording to the color and form which were best adapted to his intervals of creative desire. The very manuscript, some pages of which I have seen, suggests the care and fidelity with which he labored. The hand is firm and clear, the in- terlineations few but always excellent, and there are some- times broad spaces between the stanzas, which suggest long and silent pacings back and forth on the study-floor or the garden walk.
Goethe tells us that the Classical Walpurgis-Night is an ascending slope, upon which we gradually rise to the Helena^ Its leading motive, therefore, must be the development of the Idea of the Beautiful ; and to this chief clew we must hold fast. But Mephistopheles, the Spirit of Negation, is also introduced, and a reason must be found for his presence in a scene where he has, apparently, no business. If there is such a thing as aesthetic irony, Goethe has attempted it here. In the forms introduced, with which Faust and Ho- munculus come in contact (the latter taking the former's part in the end), there is a gradual upward movement on the line of Beauty, from the Sphinxes and Griffins to the apparition of Galatea on her chariot of shell. In following Mephistopheles, however, from the same starting-point, we move downward on the line of Ugliness to its intensest clas- sical embodiment in the Phorkyads. Woven between these two threads, and sometimes cunningly blended with them, are personifications of the Neptunic and Plutonic theories in geology, with satirical illustrations of the latter and a reso- nant glorification of the former. Flashing over all, like a Will-o'-the-Wisp, is Homunculus, with his yearning to com- mence a natural existence.
Here are the four leading elements of the episode, only the latter of which can really be called problematic. What- ever variety of interpretation may be given to the separate forms, or to detached passages, we can hardly be mistaken in regard to the first three motives ; and I find that the Ger- man critics are here less active in constructing independent
NOTES. 381
theories than in bending these evident elements to their ser- vice, in explaining the details. Rosenkranz, for instance, says that " Faust is led through Nature to Art," but inas- much as he afterwards admits that the highest result of Art is the perfect human form, he thus comes back to the origi- nal clew. Weisse remarks, very correctly, that the scenes " are filled with an anticipation of coming Beauty." Kost- lin, Schnetger, Diintzer, and others do not differ in sub- stance, and their views need not be quoted.
Leutbecher says : " As is well known, Goethe himself lived and strove in that process of coming into being, of the new creation of the antique spirit in his time, and to his share therein is due the execution of this important part of the poem." Add to this Schnetger's declaration that " the key to the Classical Walpurgis-Night is Homunculus : his importance determines the importance of the entire scene, for his development into being is its chief motive,'*'*— and we shall see that by accepting Homunculus as the embodiment of Goethe's own yearning for a free and beautiful poetic be- ing, we have the simplest key, not only to the Classical Wal- purgis-Night, but to many of the views which it has suggested to the commentators. Only thus, indeed, can we understand the increasing prominence of Homunculus, and the early disappearance of Faust.
Deycks, also, has this passage : " This much seems to be clear : the scene has little or nothing to do with the history of Faust. At best, it prepares his way to the attainment of Helena ; but he, himself, plays a secondary part. Neither is Mephistopheles much more prominent; he meets with (something quite new to him) one embarrassment after an- other. There are all the better grounds for assuming that Goethe, here, had other purposes, further evidence of which is shown in the visible love and elaboration wherewith the abundant forms are presented, the beauty and importance of so many visions, and the cheerful humor which throws a sin- gular, shifting charm over the whole. It is full of alluring and mysterious suggestion, like the endless laughter of the sea-waves, in the ancient poet."
382 FAUST.
Another remark of Goethe (made in 183 1) may be inter- esting to the reader : ** The old Walpurgis-Night is monar- chical, since the Devil is there everywhere respected as the positive ruler. But the Classical is thoroughly republican, because all are broadly placed side by side, one being as valid as the other, none Subordinate or concerned for the others. But for a life-Ion^ interest in the plastic arts, the execution of the scene would not have been possible. Nev- ertheless, it was very difficult to be moderate with such abun- dant material, and to reject all figures which did not com- pletely accord with my design. For example, I made no use of the Minotaur, the Harpies, and various other mon- sters."
Mephistopheles is seduced to overcome his dislike for " antique cronies " by the mention of Thessalian witches, and the scene is accordingly opened by the witch Erichtho, described by Lucan as dwelling in the wilds of Hasnius, where she was consulted by Pompey, before the battle of Pharsalia. Her allusion to the " evil poets " is undoubtedly meant for Lucan and Ovid. She speaks in the measure called iambic trimeter (double) ; it is really an iambic hex- ameter, scarcely known to the English language, but the lat- ter, nevertheless, adapts itself as readily to the additional foot as the German.
65. Here, on Grecian land. Faust recovers from his trance as soon as he touches the classic soil : his artistic instinct tells him at once that he is on the track of Helena. How much of Goethe's own feeling is expressed in these lines may be seen from the following passage in his works : " Clearness of vision, cheerfulness of acceptance, and easy grace of expression, are the qualities which delight us : and now, when we affirm that we find all these in the genuine Grecian works, achieved in the noblest material, the most proportioned form, with certainty and completeness of execution, we shall be understood, if we always refer to them as a basis and a standard. Let each one be a Grecian, in his own way : but let him be one ! "
NOTES. 383
66. I find -ny self so strange, so disconcerted.
Mephistopheles, on the other hand, is entirely out of his proper element. His disgust with the nudity of the antique forms is an admirable bit of humor, through which we can detect Goethe's own well-known defence of the chastity of ancient art. The delicate satire of the line, Dock das Antike find* ich zu lebendig, is lost in translation. We may almost surmise that when Mephistopheles speaks of overplastering the figures according to the fashion, Goethe referred to the indecent rehabilitation of the statues in the Vatican.
Mephistopheles finally addresses himself to the Griffins and Sphinxes, as the most grotesque and unbeautiful of the forms around him.
67. The source, wherefrom its derivation springs,
Diintzer explains that this passage is in ridicule of certain philologists, who, in Goethe's day, grouped words together at random according to their initial letters, and then at- tempted to trace them to a common root. The answer of Mephistopheles is a play upon the words Greif (Griffin) and ^eifen (to grip) — sufficiently like the English words to be intelligible in translation. The Griffin accepts this explana- tion, and confirms it by slightly changing the Latin proverb Fortes Fortunajuvat, which he applies to his own advantage.
68. The Arimaspeans.
According to Herodotus, the Arimaspeans were a one-eyed race who inhabited a distant part of the Scythian steppes, and were engaged in continual conflict with the gold-guard- ing Griffins. The colossal Ants, which were somewhat larger than foxes and dwelt in Central Asia, threw out gold- dust in making their subterranean burrows.
I confess I can offer no satisfactory explanation of the ap- pearance of these creatures, beyond that of their repulsive forms. Schnetger finds a scale of development in them, in the following order : Griffins, Ants, Arimaspeans, Sphinxes, and afterwards Sirens, each grade approaching nearer the
384
FA UST.
human form. Hartung, on the other hand, finds that the Griffins are philologists ; the gold, scientific treasures ; the Ants, diligent collectors of knowledge ; the Arimaspeans, clever writers, who live by stolen thoughts, and the Sphinxes, History. Goethe would hardly have buried an allegory so deep as this. Schnetger's explanation would answer very well, were it not for the Ants and Arimaspeans, who have no place in a progressive development based on Art. All we can be sure of is, that they are primitive forms of the Ugly, without the suggestion of possible beauty which we find in the Griffins and Sphinxes.
69. Express thyself, and V will a riddle be.
It is evident that the Sphinxes immediately recognized Mephistopheles, and their questions are only " chaffing." When they say that their spirit-tones become material, to him, they hint that he sees nothing more than their semi- bestial form. In the answer of Mephistopheles to the demand for his name, Goethe uses the English words " Old Iniqui- ty." This term was given, in the Moralities, to a personifi- cation of Vice, or Sin, who accompanied the Devil when he appeared, teased him and beat him with a whip. The Clown, in Shakespeare's " Twelfth Night," refers to this character in his song : —
I am gone, sir,
And anon, sir,
I '11 be with you again
In a trice,
Like to the Old Vice,
Your need to sustain ;
Who with dagger of lath, In his rage and his wrath, Cries, ah, ha ! to the Devil : Like a mad lad, Pare thy nails, dad, Adieu, Goodman Devil !
Although Mephistopheles is an entire stranger among these antique forms, we must not suppose that he has never
NOTES.
385
heard of them, and that his demand for an enigma from the Sphinx is out of keeping with the part he plays. But his Romantic sneer is at once crushed under the Boeotian irony. The retort of the Sphinx shows that she fully comprehends the mediaeval Devil. Its keenness will be properly appre- ciated when I state that the word Plastron (which I have translated *' breast-plate ") is a piece of impenetrable armor, worn by fencing-masters, in order to let their pupils lunge at them with impunity, even as the Devout, in Faust's day, flattered their ascetic idea of holiness by keeping up an imaginary conflict with the Devil. We cannot much wonder that Mephistopheles should lose his temper, on receiving such a thrust.
70. Sirens.
The Sirens are first mentioned by Homer as two in num- ber, but two more were afterwards added by the Athenians. They were located in various places, — Crete, Sicily, or Capri, — and there were contradictory accounts of their origin and character. It was generally believed, however,, that they were fated only to live until some one should pass their island without being captivated by their song, whence the corresponding myths of the Argonauts and Ulysses.
After the confused and uncertain forms with which the Classical Walpurgis-Night opens, Goethe seems to have selected the Sirens as a point of departure for the opposite paths of Faust and Mephistopheles. They were generally represented as beautiful maidens to the waist, the lower half having a bird-form, with hideous falcon claws. The gro- tesque and beautiful are more intimately blended in the woman and lion of the Sphinx : in the Sirens Beauty and Ugliness are simply and sharply joined to each other. After leaving them, Faust begins to rise towards his Ideal, while Mephistopheles descends towards his.
In the description which the latter gives of the Sirens' song, commencing "These are of novelties the neatest," Hartung sees " Goethe's opinion of certain modern poets." Some such meaning is certainly suggested by the lines ; but
VOL. II. 17 Y
386 FAUST.
we are already familiar with Goethe's habit of double and triple allegory, and shall not be bewildered by these minor glosses.
71. In the Repulsive, grand and solid features .
This line throws a clear light all along the path we have chosen. Faust recognizes the far-off predictions of the Beautiful in the forms of Indian and Egyptian art, the fore- runners of that of Greece. He is even reconciled to what is repulsive in them, by their association with the early memo- ries of Grecian History and Literature. He is filled with fresh spirit, for he now feels that he has a clew which shall guide him to Helena. To Mephistopheles, who remembers Faust's disgust for the grotesque phantoms of the Blocks- berg, his satisfaction is of course incomprehensible.
The Sphinxes direct Faust to Chiron, the Centaur, who is not only purely Greek, but also the last struggle of the ar- tistic Ideal of Beauty with animal forms ; while, after recall- ing the Stymphalic birds and the heads of the Lernasan Hydra for the benefit of Mephistopheles, they shrewdly send him after the Lamiae, who have aroused his desire at the first view.
72. Peneus.
The Pharsalian Fields lie upon the Enipeus, a branch of the Peneus, and many of the commentators charge Goethe with having made a mistake ; but it is very evident that he meant to include in the scene the whole region from Pharsa- lus to the base of Olympus and the shores of the iEgean Sea.
In the river-god, Peneus, with his attendant Nymphs and Tributary Streams, we reach a higher plane of development. Here the forms, though representing Nature, are entirely human, and an atmosphere of Poetry, as well as of Art, en- circles them. The verse changes, also, suggesting a clearer moonlight and fresher air.
Faust's dream of Leda and the Swan, which was described by Homunculus in Wagner's laboratory, is here purposely repeated, as the reality of what was there only presentiment. Now, however, Leda herself is not seen : the thick foliage
NOTES. 387
conceals her form. Faust is not yet prepared to behold the conception of the Beautiful.
73. Chiron.
The Centaur Chiron was the son of Saturn and Philyra, the daughter of Ocean us. Homer calls him the wisest and most just of the Centaurs. He was said to have taught the human race oaths, joyous sacrificial services, and music. In his grotto on Pelion he educated the grandest Grecian heroes, among them Peleus, Ajax, Achilles, ^sculapius, Theseus, and Jason.
Schnetger has a very ingenious explanation of the symboli- cal significance of Chiron in this scene. He interprets the expression of the Sphinx to Faust :
Our very last was slain by Hercules, as indicating the overthrow of the monstrous forms of early Art ; and Hercules therefore marks the commencement of the Human period. He then says : " If the old forms are entirely overcome by the new, in Hercules, then must Chiron, his instructor, be considered as standing equally in both periods of development. This position, half here, half there, is clearly illustrated in his figure, which is a horse behind and in front a nobly formed man. Chiron represents to us the bridge, the transition from the former coarseness and distortion to the later and loftier forms, and upon him Faust must pass to approach that which he seeks."
One of the finest of the Pompeian frescos, now in the Museo Nazionale at Naples, represents Chiron teaching the young Achilles to play upon the lyre. Goethe never saw it, but he has unconsciously given to the Centaur the same dignity, nobility, and yearning sadness of expression, which are there so wonderfully painted.
74. No second such hath Gcta granted. There is a seeming contradiction in this passage. When Faust suggests the name of Hercules, which Chiron has omitted from the list of his Argonautic pupils and friends,
388
FA UST.
the Centaur's burst of enthusiasm for the hero whose poi- soned arrow accidentally caused his own death is, to say the least, unexpected ; while Faust's following speech :
" The fairest Man hast thou depicted, Now of the fairest Woman speak ! "
couples Hercules with Helena as the Ideals of male and fe- male beauty. But it was Paris and Helena whom he called from the Shades. We must assume that when he speaks of the latter pair to Mephistopheles, in Scene V. Act I., as "the model forms of Man and Woman," he is merely repeating the conventional ideas of the Emperor and the Court circle. In any case it is Goethe himself who speaks here. It was prob- ably the famous torso in the Vatican which first gave him the impression that Hercules is, as he more than once declares in his papers on Art, " the highest glorification of masculine, beneficent activity and harmonious combination of power," therefore in his form the highest embodiment of masculine beauty. In his Vier Jahreszeiten, he says : " Grace is only revealed from the fulness of Strength." In 1832, only a month before his death, Goethe said to Soret : " The Her- cules of antiquity is a collective being, the great bearer of his own deeds and the deeds of others."
75. ' T is curious with your mythologic dame. A trifling personal experience is here interpolated, or, at least, suggested. When Faust says : " But seven years old ! " and Chiron answers :
" Philologists, I see,
Even as they cheat themselves, have cheated thee " —
we are directly reminded of a passage in Eckermann. Goethe was speaking of a line in one of his own poems, where Professor Gottling had persuaded him to change •* Horace " into " Propertius," to the damage of spirit and sound. " In the same manner," said Eckermann, "the manuscript of your Helena showed that Theseus carried her off as a ' ten-year-old and slender roe.' But Gottling's rep- resentations led you to print, instead, * a seven-year-old and
NOTES. 389
slender roe,' which is much too young, both for the beautiful maiden, and for her twin-brothers, Castor and Pollux, who rescued her."
" You are right," said Goethe ; " I am also of the opinion that she should be ten years old when Theseus carries her off, and for that reason I afterwards wrote : —
' She has been worthless from her tenth year on.' (Page 81.)
In the next edition, therefore, you may still make a ten- years' roe out of the seven-years' one."
Faust answers Chiron, as a Poet : " Then let no bonds of Time be thrown around her ! " He refers to an obscure legend (mentioned by Miiller, in his work on "The Do- rians "), that Achilles ascended from the Shades to wed Helena on the isle of Leuke, — not Phercz, which seems to be a mistake of Goethe, — where they had a son, Euphorion.
76. Manto.
Goethe has wilfully taken Manto from blind Tiresias, " prophet old," whose daughter she was, and given her M.'s,- culapius as a father, perhaps to account for her familiarity with Chiron, and enable the latter, through her, to send Faust further on his ardent pilgrimage. She was, in reality, devoted to the service of Apollo. After her father's death she wandered to Italy, where her son, Oknus, founded and named for her the city of Mantua. (Virgil refers to this in the Tenth Book of the ^neid, and Dante in the twentieth Canto of the Inferno.)
The temple shining in the moonlight, the dreaming Man- to, and the few Orphic sentences which she utters, prepare us for Faust's mysterious descent to Persephone. Goethe's own words (quoted in Note 64) show that he had projected the scene ; but here, in the vestibule, the doors suddenly close, and no voice from the adytum of Hades reaches our ears. Faust disappears, and we see him no more until the middle of the next Act, where the character of the allegory is entirely changed. There can be no doubt that Goethe found his powers inadequate to the execution of his design,
390 FAUST.
and, as at the close of the First Part, he left the reader's imagination to span the chasm for which he could build no poetic bridge.
The Classical Walpurgis-Night falls, naturally, into three divisions of nearly equal length. The first division closes here : the representation of the development of the Beautiful through the Grecian mind is temporarily suspended, and a very different element is introduced.
77. Health is ttone where ivater fails ! We return from Manto's Temple, at the foot of Olympus, to the Upper Peneus, where the preceding scene opens. The premonitions which the River-god then uttered, are about to be verified. The Sirens reappear, but (we must assume) stripped of their former symbolism : they are now evidently representatives of the Neptunic theory in geology, and the " ill-starred folk " of whom they sing must be the Plutonists. The above line — in German, Ohne Wasser ist kein Heil! — declares the former theory at once, though it also suggests the well-known phrase of Pindar, ariston men ''udor. The word Heil means either health or salvation ; and the latter rendering would perhaps be more correct here. Goethe undoubtedly selected the Sirens to describe the earthquake, because they are the only characters al- ready introduced who are directly associated with the Sea.
78. Seismos.
Goethe makes a personification of the Earthquake (Setcr- [ibi), in order the better to satirize the Plutonists.
It is now time that I should endeavor to represent, as clearly as may be possible, what Goethe has introduced in this division of the Classical Walpurgis-Night, and why he has introduced it. A thorough and satisfactory commen- tary would involve the statement of scientific questions which require much special knowledge ; but, on the other hand, it is inexpedient to wander too far from the tracks we have been following. Goethe did not intend this episode to be a digression. The pains he has taken to weave together
NOTES.
391
the two threads, of such irreconcilable texture, are very evi- dent, yet he has none the less failed in his attempt. I only feel bound, therefore, to present whatever may be strictly i>ecessary to the understanding of this foreign element, and its elimination from the genuine substance of the drama.
Duntzer has carefully collected the principal facts, and so skilfully arranged them that I only need to abbreviate his material, and add to it a few illustrations from Goethe's writings. The Neptunic theory in geology, to which Goethe early became a convert, originated with Werner, and is based on his observations of mountain-strata. Taking gran- ite as the original base, he taught that the later formations were successive deposits from a primeval ocean or from denser atmospheres ; that, as Goethe expressed it, the Earth, slowly and by a progressive, harmonious development, build- ed itself; and that earthquakes and volcanic fires, although permanent phenomena, were not universal creative agencies. When Werner, in 1788, declared that basalt was formed through the action of water, the struggle of theories com- menced, and the terms *' Neptunists " and " Plutonists " began to be heard. In the Xenien, written in 1796, Goethe speaks of the short-lived triumph of the latter, in regard to basalt.
Nevertheless, Plutonism was not dead. The theory of the upheaval of mountain-chains through the action of in- ternal forces rapidly gained ground in the scientific world. Its champions were two distinguished geologists, Leopold von Buch in Germany and Elie de Beaumont in France, to whom, about 1820, was added Alexander von Humboldt. Goethe, aroused from his security in regard to the Neptunic theory, now began to express his views, less in the way of impartial scientific discussion than as a matter of feeling, — we may even say, prejudice. He wrote, at this time : " When the Earth began to interest me in a scientific sense, and I endeavored to become acquainted with its mountain masses, internally and externally, in generals as in particu- lars, — in those days, we had a foothold where to stand, and we could not have wished a better one. We were directed
392
FA UST.
to Granite as the highest and the deepest, we respected it in this sense, and labored to investigate it more closely."
It is evident that the rapid and general acceptance of the theory of upheaval was a great annoyance to him. Like an earthquake, it seemed to threaten his faith in the stability of the Earth itself. To his mind, it substituted violence, con- vulsion, and a series of chaotic accidents, for the quiet, un- disturbed, sublime process of creation. In a paper entitled " Geological Problems and an Attempt at their Solution," he wrote : " The case may be as it pleases, but it must be written that I curse this execrable racket and lumber room of the new order of creation ! And certainly some young man of genius will arise, who shall have the courage to oppose this crazy unanimity." In a letter written to Zelter in 1827, he says, referring to Leopold von Buch, " I know very well what we owe to him and others of his class ; but it is not well that the gentlemen immediately set up a priest- hood, and try to force upon us, together with that for which we are grateful, that which they do not know, possibly do not believe. Now that the human race moves especially in herds, they will soon lead the majority after them, and a purely progressive, problem-reverencing mind will stand alone. Since I will quarrel no more, — which I never did willingly, — I now allow myself to ridicule, and to attack their weak side, of which they are no doubt aware."
I must add one more passage, from a letter written to Zelter in November, 1829, while Goethe was preparing the material of the Classical Walpurgis-Night : "Unfortunately, my cotemporaries are quite too eccentric. Recently the Milanese announced to me with amazement, that Herr von B. [Buch] would demonstrate to their eyes that the Euga- naean Hills, which they have hitherto looked upon as a nat- ural outpost of the Alps, rose up suddenly from the earth at some time or other. They are about as well pleased at that, as savages at the preaching of a missionary. Now, last of all, it is announced [Humboldt's Siberian Journey .?] that the Altai was once conveniently squeezed up from the depths. And you may thank God that the belly of the earth does not
NOTES. 393
choose to fall in somewhere between Berlin and Potsdam, in order to get rid of the fermentation in the same way. The Academy at Paris has sanctioned the declaration that Mont Blanc arose from the abyss last of all, after the crust of the earth was completely formed. Thus the nonsense accumu- lates, and will become a universal faith of the people and savans, like the faith in witches, devils, and their works, in the darkest ages."
If these passages show the bitterness of Goethe's preju- dices, the unreasoning hostility he manifested to views based on honest and careful research, they show at the same time the secret source of his irritation. He must have considered the new theory as one of the phenomena of an approaching " Storm and Stress " period in Science, and have turned from it with the same revulsion of feeling as from that period in Literature, fifty years before. He suffered his aesthetic in- stincts to mould his scientific opinions, for the two had long been harmonized in his own mind. We must, therefore, now turn to that fancied harmony for an explanation of the intrusion of his scientific opinions into the lofty aesthetic plan of this episode. The two errors account for each other. The desperation with which he clung to the ground, which we can see he felt to be slipping from beneath his feel, shows how his intellect had succeeded in uniting Man and Nature, the individual, the race, and the planet, in one consistent and harmonious scheme, wherein the poem and the moun- tain, the flower and the statue, obeyed the same laws of growth. It was thus much more than the Neptunic theory of which the Plutonists deprived him.
Viewing the scene from this standpoint, we may guess that Goethe justified it to his own mind, and perhaps consid- ered that his Ideal of the development of Nature should of right be interwoven with his artistic Ideal. The part given to Homunculus in the illustration of the Neptunic scheme strengthens this conjecture The details of the double plan will be further explained in the followi% Notes.
It is also probable that persons, circumstances, and events are occasionally indicated. The prominence of the geologi- 17*
394
FAUST.
cal discussion has long since passed away ; but the Witches' Kitchen and Walpurgis-Night of the First Part betray a wil- ful habit of reference to passing events or temporary inter- ests, which we may well suppose is retained in this scene. Goethe, speaking of the Classical Walpurgis-Night as a whole, said to Eckermann : " I have so separated from the particular subjects and generalized whatever of pique I have introduced, that the reader may indeed detect references, but will not recognize any one to whom they would properly apply. I have endeavored, however, to represent everything in the antique manner, in distinct outlines, and to avoid any vagueness and uncertainty, such as is allowed by the Ro- mantic method."
79. For the Sphinxes here are planted. The arbitrary manner in which Goethe employs the forms of his duplicate allegory, using one or the other separate meaning, or blending both, at will, must not for a moment be lost sight of, in threading the mazes of the Classical Wal- purgis-Night. If the Sphinxes, in the preceding scenes, rep- resent the struggle of Art to rise from the animal to the hu- man form, it is very evident that such a symbolism is entirely out of place here, where the new element is introduced. They were the prophecy of coming Beauty, to Faust, the "grand and solid features," manifested in spite of the repul- siveness belonging to all undeveloped forms. Here, they seem to represent calm, stability, unchange, in opposition to the violence and convulsion of Seismos. We may even con- jecture that the lines :
" But no further shall be granted, For the Sphinxes here are planted,"
indicate that, while Goethe admits the local operation of volcanic forces, he insists that their agency is limited and restricted by the eternal cosmic law of gradual and harmo- nious creation.
The reference to fhe island of Delos is a variation of a legend mentioned by Pindar, wherein the island, which had previously floated on the waves, was made stationary by
NOTES. 395
Apollo, for the sake of his mother Latona. Pliny also speaks of the volcanic origin of Delos and other isles of the yEgean.
When Seismos answers, the poetic aspect of force, which suggested the Titans, seems, in spite of his theory, to have kindled Goethe's imagination. Forgetting his scientific prej- udice, he gives full play to the new and picturesque fancy ; the passage is perhaps the finest in the scene. Some of the commentators imagine that the line :
" How stood aloft your mountains ever,"
contains a reference to Elie de Beaumont ; but the pun would be incomplete, and its application not very clear.
80. Griffins.
The sudden appearance of the Griffins, Emmets, Pygmies, and Dactyls, as inhabitants of the newly-created mountain, and their activity, both in collecting gold and arming to at- tack the Herons (Neptunists), is a new bewilderment, and many of the German critics leave it without attempting an explanation. While we cannot hope for a clear and complete interpretation of every detail, the design of the whole scene at least points out the direction which our guesses should take. The circumstance that Goethe represents the Pluto- nists by those purely grotesque forms, from which Mephis- topheles takes his departure towards the Ideal Ugliness, shows his attempt to blend the accidental scientific element with his original aesthetic plan This can hardly be a mere coincidence. Thus far, if we accept it, the choice of char- acters is explained.
For their further significance, we must remember the ex- tent to which Goethe was irritated bv the general acceptance of the Plutonic theory. The Griffins and Ants, we may guess, represent those who at once give in their adherence to every new scientific rigime, and fancy that its principles are so many great intellectual treasures, which they hasten to collect and possess. The Pygmies and Dactyls (Thumblings and Fingerlings) are the crowds of students and smatterers
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who are unable to free themselves from the chains of the new theorist ; who find themselves,, without knowing how it happened, under his authority, intellectual serfs, forced to service and obedience, without any reference to their own wills. The Pygmy-Elders and the Generalissimo are, of course, the rulers : it would hardly be too much to say that the former represent the members of the French Academy, and that the latter is Elie de Beaumont or Leopold von Buch. Homer's account of the battle between the Pygmies and the Cranes suggested the introduction of the Herons as Neptunists. The Generalissimo orders the slaughter of these water-haunting birds, that the Pygmies may feather their helmets with the crested plumes.
8i. The Cranes of Ibycus.
The " fat-paunched, bow-legged knaves" of Plutonists are triumphant, and wear the plumes they have plundered from the slaughtered Neptunists. But the Cranes, in their airy voyage, have seen the murder, and like the " Cranes of Iby- cus," in Schiller's ballad, they are the agents appointed by Fate to revenge the deed.
Ibycus, the poet, on his way from Rhegium to attend the Isthmian games, was attacked by robbers in the pine-grove dedicated to Neptune, near Corinth. Far from all help, cut down, and dying, with his last breath he called to a flock of cranes, flying in a long file over the grove, and invoked them to bear abroad the news of the murder. His body was found, carried to Corinth, and recognized ; and the grief of the popu- lace, assembled at the games, was loud for the loss of their favorite singer, Ibycus. Suddenly, during a pause in the per- formance, while the great amphitheatre was silent, a file of cranes passed overhead, and a mocking voice was heard, say- ing : " There are the Cranes of Ibycus ! " The suspicions of the people were instantly aroused, the speaker and his ac- complice were picked out from the audience, and the amphi- theatre became a tribunal of judgment. The murderers confessed the deed, and the Cranes revenged Ibycus. Such
NOTES.
397
is the story which Schiller has embodied in one of his most admirable ballads.
When Goethe wrote, in 1827, " Certainly some young man of genius will arise, who shall have the courage to oppose this crazy unanimity," he anticipated the overthrow of the Plutonic theory. In his selection of Schiller's " Cranes of Ibycus," to summon his Neptunic kindred to the revenge which is only announced, not immediately performed, there is a touching suggestion of his own loneliness. The " end- less hate " which is sworn is not the true substance of hate (which Goethe declared to be a passion only possible to youth ) : it is merely an impatient exclamation, veiling a pang of longing for the great friend who had passed away, and of disappointment that no one came to his side to help him turn his intrenched defence into an open assault.
82. Dame Use xvatches for us from her stone.
Schnetger says : *' There is also a little venom in the cir- cumstance, that the reappearing Mephistopheles finds what he seeks in this world of the Vulcanists. *In your fire- world,' Goethe virtually exclaims, 'the Devil can attain his object ; there is enough of the Ugly, the Vulgar, the Abom- inable there, but nothing whatever of the Noble and the Beautiful.' But even the Devil grumbles over these new surface-inflations, and praises his secure Brocken of a thou- sand years, with its primitive and eternal forms of the Ilsen- stein, Heinrichshohe, the Snorers, and Elend : he greatly prefers such a soil to this uncertain quake-world."
Mephistopheles mentions not only " the region of Schierke and Elend " of the first Walpurgis-Night, but also the Ilsen- stein, which is one of the features of the approach to the Brocken on the northern side, by way of the Ilsethal. Heine, in his Reisebilder, describes the stream of the Use, as it plunges down the glen, from the Heinrichshohe, in a spir- ited passage, which I quote from Mr. Leland's transla- tion : —
" No pen can describe the merriment, simplicity, and gen' Ueness with which the Use leaps or glides amid the wildly
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piled rocks which rise in her path, so that the water strangely whizzes or foams in one place among rifted rocks, and in an- other wells through a thousand crannies, as if from a giant watering-pot, and then, in collected stream, trips away over the pebbles like a merry maiden. Yes — the old legend is true, the Use is a princess, who, laughing in beauty, runs adown the mountain. How her white foam-garment gleams in the sunshine ! How her silvered scarf flutters in the breeze ! How her diamonds flash ! . . . . The flowers on the bank whisper, Oh take us with thee ; take us with thee, dear sister.
" I am the princess Use, And dwell in Ilsenstein ; Come with me to my castle, Thou shalt be blest and mine !
I '11 kiss thee and caress thee, As in the ancient day, I listened to Emperor Henry, Who long has past away."
83. Lami^.
The original Lamia, the daughter of Belus and Libya, was beloved by Jupiter, and then transformed, through Juno's jealousy, into a hideous, child-devouring monster. Lilith, the nocturnal, female vampire of the Hebrews, mentioned in Isaiah, is rendered Lamia in the Vulgate. In the plural, they appear to have corresponded, very nearly, to the witches of the Middle Ages, who, indeed, were then frequently called Lamice. Keats's poem of " Lamia," in which the bride, rec- ognized by the keen-eyed sage, returns to her original ser- pent-form, represents another of the superstitions attached to the race.
Mephistopheles (probably remembering the Thessalian witches promised by Homunculus) is attracted by forms having so much family likeness to those with which he is familiar ; and when we recall Goethe's opinion of Merimee and Victor Hugo {vide Note 24), we may suppose an indi- rect reference, in this episode, to the approach of the Classic
NOTES. 399
and Romantic schools in the elements farthest removed from Beauty. The scientific satire, at least, is here temporarily suspended, but to be soon again resumed.
84. Empusa, with the ass's foot.
Empusa (the " one-footed," as the name denotes) had one human foot and one ass's hoof, and is therefore fairly en- titled to call Mephistopheles "cousin," Goethe probably took her, as well as some other characters of the Classical Walpurgis-Night, from Bottiger, with whose works he was well acquainted. Empusa is mentioned in " The Frogs " of Aristophanes, and also in the life of Apollonius Tyana, by Philostratus. She had not the same habit of transformation as the other Lamiae, but surpassed them all in her hideous appearance and her cannibalic habits.
Mephistopheles, however, is too ugly and repulsive for even these. They simply amuse themselves with him, and then send him further. The transformations which they un- dergo when he attempts to grasp them are characteristic of the Lamiae, but, at the same time, they suggest some addi- tional meaning. What it is I cannot guess, and I find noth- ing in any of the commentaries which throws the least light on the passage. Diintzer's explanation is entirely inade- quate.
85. Oread (from the natural rock). Here the Oread is the spirit of a primeval mountain, created according to the Neptunic theory. But she is not introduced solely for the purpose of ridiculing the neighbor- ing Plutonic mountain which Seismos has created by up- heaval, and which, she declares, " will vanish at the crow of cock." When Mephistopheles exclaims :
" Honor to thee, thou reverend Head ! " it is again Goethe who speaks ; and the circumstance that Homunculus, who has been invisible during the whole Plu- tonic episode, now suddenly shows his light among the thickets covering the natural rock, hints that the Oread is immediately responsible for his reappearance. If we attach
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to Homunculus the part which I have ventured to propose, — if we assume that he is the aesthetic principle in Goethe's own nature, seeking the commencement of a free, joyous and harmonious being, — the passage receives a distinct and easily intelligible meaning. As I have given, in Note 59, the other varieties of interpretation, the reader may apply them for himself, here as elsewhere, if he finds reason to reject my suggestion.
86. Anaxagoras {to Thales).
The representatives of the two geological theories are now introduced. Goethe's choice of Anaxagoras and Thales is too evidently dictated by what is known of the systems of those philosophers, to need any further explanation. The former wrote of eclipses, earthquakes, and meteoric stones ; the latter derived all life and physical phenomena from wa- ter ; yet both based their theories on " Nature," and equally sought to solve her mysteries. Homunculus, impatient to begin existence, seems to heed the counsel of Mephistopheles (Goethe) to dare to err, as the only means of arriving at un- derstanding.* Consequently, no sooner does the dispute between the two philosophers recommence, than he steps between them, seeking guidance.
The words of Thales : —
" To every wind the billows yielding are : Yet from the cliff abrupt they keep themselves afar," —
undoubtedly indicate what Goethe considered to be the easy acquiescence of other geologists in the Plutonic theory, and his own stubborn position ; yet it is a little singular that he should have chosen the Neptunic " billows " as symbols of his antagonists!
* This is a maxim which Goethe has expressed in manifold forms. The line in the Prologue in Heaven : " Es irrt der Mensch, so lang er strebt" is an important part of the argument of Faust. In Wilhelrt Meister he asserts that each man must be developed in his own way in order to attain a gfenuine independence ; and therefore, that he had better err when error will gradually lead him into his own true path, than walk mechanically aright on the path prescribed for him by another.
NOTES.
401
87. And '/ is not Force, even on a mighty scale.
The four lines very tersely express Goethe's scientific creed. In 1 831 he wrote: " The older I grow, the more sure- ly I rely upon that law by which the rose and the lily blos- som." He recognized no beauty except in proportion, no harmony except in gradual, ordered development. When we remember his constant aspiration, as an author, to attain unto a pure objective vision, we may well wonder that in this instance he was not only unable, but fiercely unwilling, to liberate himself from prejudice. But, after carefully study- ing his life, we find that we have to deal with more than an intellectual peculiarity ; it rests on the deeper basis of his moral, and even physical, nature, and was directly inher- ited from his mother. The Frau Aja, as she was affection- ately called by the Weimar court-circle, was a woman of clear, lively intellect, of admirable frankness and honesty, and of warm and strong feelings. Yet, with all her force of character, she was unable to endure anxiety, suspense, the ordinary shocks and plagues of life. She always begged her family and friends to hide from her every coming appearance of misfortune, and only to mention that which was past, and to be inevitably supported. The circle around Goethe were so familiar with the same peculiarity in his nature, that they avoided speaking to him of losses which they knew he felt keenly. Even the love of woman seems to have been, to him, more an unrest than a bliss, as is clearly shown in his relations to Frederike and Lili.
It would be easy to give many direct illustrations of Goethe's hostility to every influence which interfered with his quiet, harmonious development, and to show how such a strong quality of his nature must have moulded (perhaps un- consciously to himself) his scientific views. . The better our knowledge of the poet, the less we shall be surprised to find him introducing, here, an element foreign to the original plan of the drama. The artistic mistake which we perceive was not one to him.
The two philosophers take no notice of Homunculus, until
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402 FAUST.
Anaxagoras, after seeing that the new mountain is already peopled, offers to make the former king over the Pygmies and Dactyls. Duntzer says of this passage : " Anaxagoras does not recognize the genuine nature of Homunculus ; he sees only the external appearance, the little form, the impris- onment in the phial. On account of his littleness, and not, as others assert, because he is a spirit of fire, does Anaxago- ras esteem him to be competent to rule over the little people. He seeks to exist, to enter the reality of life, which can only be attained through gradual development ; but Anaxagoras desires to make him king at one blow, quite in the spirit of the theory of upheaval, which would create all things sud- denly and violently."
Thales answers as a Neptunist, ana aescribes the destruc- tion of the Pygmies by the Cranes of Ibycus. The latter event was possibly intended as a prophecy ; or, at least, as a satirical declaration that the Plutonists, if forced to give up the theory of upheaval, would next insist that mountain- peaks were created by meteoric stones projected from the volcanoes of the moon. This view is entirely consistent with all that we know of Goethe's temper, before and during the time when the scene was written.
88. Then were it true, Thessalian Pythonesses. This is a reference to an old Grecian myth, mentioned in the Gorgias of Plato and the Clouds of Aristophanes. Horace, also, {Carm. V.,) has the lines : —
*' Qtue siaera excantata voce Thessalf Lunamqtie coeio aeripit " We are to suppose that only a meteoric stone has fallen, but that Anaxagoras, in his excited fancy, imagines that the orb of the moon is rushing down upon the earth. Thales perceives nothing but that " the Hours are crazy " ; the moon is shining quietly in her place. But a meteoric mass has really fallen, giving a pointed head to the round Hill of Seismos, and crushing Pygmies and Cranes in one common destruction. Perhaps Goethe meant to hint, satirically, that the theory of creation "from above" (as Homunculus says)
NOTES. 403
is quite as rational as that of creation by upheaval. If so, he has curiously anticipated one of the most recent scientific ideas, — that of the growth and physical change of planets, by accretion from the meteoric belts.
Thales says, positively, to Homunculus : " 'T was but imagined so," and then sets out, with him, for his favorite element, leaving Anaxagoras prostrate on his face. Here the direct scientific allegory terminates, and we pick up the aesthetic thread again.
89. The Phorkyads! The Phorkyads, or, more correctly, Phorkids^ were the three daughters of Phorkys (Darkness) and Keto (The Abyss). Their names were Deino, Pephredo, and Enyo : Hesiod, in his Theogony, gives only the two last. They were also called the Grata. They were said to have, in common, but one eye and one tooth, which they used alter- nately, and to dwell at the uttermost end of the earth, where neither sun nor moon beheld them. They represent the climax of all which the Greek imagination has created of horrible and repulsive. Mephistopheles, consequently, is --X^ ravished with delight : he has found the Ideal Ugliness. His flattery serves also to hint that while Northern or Ro- mantic Art (in the Middle Ages) was accustomed to rep- resent the Devil and all manner of hideous and grotesque Fiends, Classic Art only occupied itself with shapes of beauty. The Phorkyads dwelt in gloom, unknown, and only not unnamed. The Lamiae rejected the Northern Devil, for he was still uglier than they, but the Phorky- ads admit him into their triad. He suffers a classical change into something hideous and strange, and disappears from the Walpurgis-Night, to reappear, in his new form, in the Helena.
\ V
90. Rocky Coves of the iEcEAN Sea.
LWith this scene commences the third and last of the three parts into which the Classical Walpurgis-Night naturally divides itself. The first part, as we have seen, gradually
^
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\
eliminates the Beautiful from the Grotesque, separates the opposite paths of Faust and Mephistopheles, and closes with the disappearance of Faust, on his way to implore Helena from the shades. The second part introduces the Plutonic theory in geology as a disturbing element, satirizes it, symbolizes its overthrow, decides the course of Hornun- culus by attaching him to the Neptunic Thales, and closes with the union of Mephistopheles and his ugly Ideal.
The development of the Idea of the Beautiful is now taken up at the point where it was suspended, and carried onward ; but Homunculus is henceforth the central figure of the changing groups. The reader will remark, however, that this and the following scene are strictly Neptunic ; the char- acters all belong to the Ocean, and the occasion which calls them together is a festival of Nereus. Although Goethe's scientific creed is constantly suggested, it is subordinate to his aesthetic plan, and hardly interferes with it. His few brief references are like so many low rocks, which cannot interrupt the multitudinous dance of the waves.
Oken, for whom Goethe felt a hearty and admiring re- spect, has the following passage : " Light shines on the salt flood, and it becomes alive. All life is from the sea, nothing from the firm land : the entire ocean is living. It is a bil- lowy, ever-upheaving and again subsiding organism
Love is a birth of the sea-foam The first organic
forms issued from the shallow places of the great ocean, here plants, there animals. Man, also, is a child of the warm shallows of the sea, in the neighborhood of the land." This passage, which Goethe certainly knew, and probably accepted in a poetical sense, will throw some light on what follows.
9 1 . Steering away to Sam oth race. We must suppose that the scene opens on the Thessalian coast, near the mouth of the Peneus, and therefore almost in sight of the mountain-isle of ^amothrace. The purpose of the Nereids and Tritons, in their journey thither, will be presently revealed. Meanwhile Thales conducts Homuncu- lus to Nereus, the Graybeard of the Sea, whom Hesiod
NOTES. 405
describes as just and friendly, and well-disposed towards the human race.
Nereus, however, in words which are almost an echo of Goethe's own expressions, refuses to give counsel. " The giving of advice is a peculiar thing," said Goethe to Ecker- mann, " and when one has had some chance of seeing how, in the world, the most intelligent plans fail and the absurd- est often turn out successfully, one is inclined to give up the idea of furnishing advice to anybody. At the bottom, indeed, the asking of advice denotes a restricted nature, and the giving of it an assuming one." The reference to Paris is suggested by a passage in Horace (Ode I.), where Nereus is represented as having appeared in a calm to Paris, on his way to the Troad with Helena, and predicted to him the coming war and ruin.
92. The Graces of the Sea, the Dor ides.
The Dorides were the daughters of Nereus and the sea- nymph Doris, but are called Nereids in the Grecian mythol- ogy. Goethe's object in calling them Dorides, and present- ing them as the daughters of Nereus, while the Nereids are introduced without any hint of their relationship, has puzzled the commentators ; and since any attempt at explanation must be merely conjecture, without evidence, I leave the question as it stands. There seems, also, to be no ground whatever for the declaration of Nereus that Galatea was worshipped at Paphos in the place of Cypris (Aphrodite). Thus far, none of the Olympian Gods or Goddesses have been introduced; and the fresco of Galatea by Raphael, which Goethe knew, together with the description of a very similar picture, mentioned by Philostratus, undoubtedly sug- gested to him the propriety of giving her the place which really belongs to Aphrodite, as the representative of Helena 'Beauty).
It is possible that the reason why Nereus refuses to help Homunculus to being, and refers him to Proteus, is, that Goethe intends the former to be an embodiment of accom- plished, completed existence, while the latter represents
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Transformation, and therefore — since Homunculus must begin with the lowest form of organic life — he must be first consulted.
93. Three have we brought hither.
The introduction of the Cabiri, ancient Egyptian and Phoenician deities, in this place, is more difficult to explain than that of the geological element in the preceding scene. I can discover no dramatic, aesthetic, or even metaphysical reason for turning back from the human forms which we have reached, with their increasing poetry and beauty, to the uncouth gods of Samothrace, — especially since nothing comes of the circumstance. The whole episode seems to have been wilfully inserted, as the consequence of a whim or a temporary interest in the subject.
Schelling's work " The Deities of Samothrace," published in 1815, first directed Goethe's attention to these primitive creatures. Creuzer, in his " Symbolism and Mythology " and Lobeck in his " Aglaophamus " continued the archaeo- logical discussion, which, considering the remote and uncer- tain nature of the subject, was carried on for a time with a good deal of sarcasm and bitterness. The dispute had not subsided when Goethe wrote this scene in 1830 ; and it was perhaps natural that he should have overrated its impor- tance.
The Cabiri were originally three. In Memphis they had a temple and were worshipped as the sons of Phthas ( He- phaestos). They appear to have been colonized on Samo- thrace by the Phoenicians, and their mysteries were celebrated there with orgies borrowed from the phallic worship of the Egyptians. Three female deities were subsequently added to their number ; but Creuzer insists that there were seven, corresponding to the seven planets, with a possible eighth, representing the sun. The names of the first three were Axierus, Axiokersus, and Axiokersa, and the fourth, Kad- milus, being added as a uniting principle, they became to- gether, according to Creuzer, a symbol of the spheral har- mony. This may explain Goethe's allusion to the fourth.
NOTES.
407
The Hebrew word, Kabbirivty is translated by Gesenius, ** The Mighty." FUrst says that Kabbirini was the name of the seven sons of Tzadik, in Phcenician mythology. The Arabic word kebeer (great), still in use, is evidently the same.
94. These incomparable, unchainable.
This quatrain seems to be aimed at the archaeologists. Schelling had asserted that the Cabiri represented a chain of symbols, the first being Hunger, the second Nature, grad- ually rising to the latest and highest, who corresponded to the Zeus of the Greeks. Goethe transfers the desire of these lower deities to reach the places of the higher to the desire of the archaeologists for unattainable knowledge.
The answer of the Sirens is a play upon Creuzer's ad- herence to the Oriental symbolism of the sun, moon, and stars. Their reference to the Fleece of Gold, that is, The Cabiri, is also meant for satire, although it is so weak as to be scarcely apparent.
95 . Had earthen pots for models.
Creuzer, again. He asserted that the Cabiri were origi- nally worshipped under the form of thick-bellied earthen jars, or pots. Schelling's interpretation of the names had been opposed, not only by Creuzer, but by Paulus, De Sacy, Welcker, and others, — whence the mention of " stubborn noddles."
Here the episode, which we cannot but feel is altogether unnecessary and unedifying, comes to an end.
96. He has no lack of qualities ideal.
But far too much of palpable a?td real. The description which Thales gives of Homunculus di- \ rectly suggests many hints which Goethe let fall in regard to . \ his own nature. Ideas were never lacking to him ; on the 1
contrary, their very profusion was a source of unrest and per- plexity, since it was associated with a difficulty in discover- ing the appropriate reality of form which Poetry requires. ! The perfect fusion o{ the two elements was what he most
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admired and envied in Shakespeare ; and the struggle of his life, to unite the Classic and the Romantic, was nothing more than to give the rare and subtile and delicate spirit of the latter the positive, palpable, symmetrical form which he rec- ognized in the former. If Homunculus verily be Goethe's own Poetic Genius, it is all the more easy to perceive how he was here able to symbolize a powerful aspiration of his nature, for which no other form of expression could be found. The theme suggests a multitude of illustrations, and I resist with difficulty the temptation to develop it further.
97. One starts there first within a narrow pale.
Homer describes the transformations of Proteus in the Fourth Book of the Odyssey, where Meneiaus forces him to appear in his proper form. Thales makes use of the curios- ity of Proteus to accomplish the same result.
Goethe, here, and from this point to the end, attaches an additional meaning to Homunculus, partly, no doubt, in or- der to disguise the secret, personal symbolism of the latter, and partly, also, because it enabled him to give a hint of his own palingenetic ideas. He suggests the gradual develop- ment of life, constantly evolving higher forms from lower as a part of his theory of creation, in accordance with the Wernerian system. But when Thales says, in the following scene (pages 156, 157) : —
Be ready for the rapid plan ! There, by eternal canons wending, Through thousand, myriad forms ascending, Thou shalt attain, in time, to Man —
he expresses the psychological view of the ancients rather than the scientific system of the moderns, of which Darwin is the latest and most successful illustrator. Goethe perhaps considered that as all the series of organic life are traversed in the development of the human embryo, so, reversely, the lowest series already contains the preparation for, and the prophecy of, the highest. Schnetger's interpretation, that Proteus represents Nature and bears Homunculus on his
NOTES. 409
back as the embryo of the human race, which is to ascend " through thousand, myriad forms " to Man, is entirely con- sistent with this view.
98. Telchines of Rhodes.
The Telchines of Rhodes, who were called Sons of the Sea, were the first workers in metals. They made the knife of Kronos and the trident of Poseidon, and cast the first images of the Gods in bronze. Their appearance, here, indi- cates the dawn of the age of higher Grecian art. Pliny and Theophrastus are Goethe's authorities for the sunny weather and pure atmosphere of Rhodes. The very movement of the verse suggests brightness ; we feel that the sun and air are not those of Rhodes alone, but of all Classical art and literature.
The Telchines exalt Luna as the sister of Phoebus, who was the tutelar deity of Rhodes : the conclusion of their chorus seems to indicate the union of Religion and Art, and suggests Coleridge's " fair humanities of old religion." Pro- teus exalts organic being, life in the waters, over the dead works of the Telchines, and hints at the overthrow of the Rhodian Colossus by an earthquake.
Hartung's words upon this passage may also be of service to the reader : " From the rude fetich to an Olympian Zeus by the hand of a Phidias, there is as great a gap as from the mollusk to the human form ; and Art must run through the whole career. In this festival of the Sea, the poet has placed the development of organic forms in Nature, rising in con- tinual progression to Man, side by side with the develop- ment of Art, in Religion, from the fetich [Cabiri i*J to the height of a Phidias."
99. That I also think is best. The words of Thales are not meant as a reply to Nereus. They are simply a continuation of what he has before said : —
" 'T is no ill fate In one's own day to be true man and great."
VOL. II. 18
4IO FAUST.
100. PSYLLI AND MaRSI.
Goethe took from Pliny the Psylli and Marsi, who were snake-charmers in Southern Italy and on the Libyan shore. He arbitrarily makes them guardians of the chariot of Cypris, in which they still conduct Galatea by night, *' unseen to the new generations," fearing neither the Roman eagle, the winged lion of Venice, the crescent of the Saracen, nor the cross of the Crusader. Why they are here introduced, is not so easy to explain. Dlintzer insists that, being magi- cians, they represent the magic power of Beauty ! Schnetger says they are nearer to Galatea than the Telchines of Rhodes, because they destroy snakes, which are ugly, and which, according to the Bible, are hostile to woman !
It is not necessary to quote the variety of meanings given by the commentators to the interlude of the Dorides and the young sailors whom they have rescued from shipwreck. They, as well as the Telchines, the Psylli and Marsi, belong to the triumphal convoy of Galatea. Hence they are all prognostications of the coming Beauty, perhaps her symbol- ized attributes ; and no single explanation could be satisfac- tory to every reader. Hartung's guess seems to me very plausible, at least : '* The poet has had in his mind the fable of Aurora and Tithonus, for that goddess could not prevent her lover, for whom she had obtained immortal life, from withering up into a grasshopper, from age. ' And thus we further perceive from the passage that Nature may indeed create the highest beauty, but can only retain it for a mo- ment ; for Beauty increases until human maturity, then im- mediately begins to fade."
loi. Galatea approaches on her chariot of shell. Galatea, the lovely Nereid, here takes the place of Helena, as Homunculns takes the place of Faust. She is the Ideal Beauty, the sea-born successor of Aphrodite. Goethe not only selected her as a Neptunist, but he was also directed to her, as I have already remarked, by Raphael and Philostratus. The latter thus describes a picture of her : " The broad watery floor heaves gently under the chariot of the Beauty ;
NOTES.
411
four dolphins, harnessed together, seem urged forward by one impulse ; young Tritons bridle them in order to curb their wanton plunges. But she stands on her shell-chariot ; the purple mantle, a sport of the wind, swells above her head like a sail and shades her." Goethe says : " It is important for our object, to place beside this description what Raphael, the Caracci and others have done with the same subject." Raphael's fresco, in the Farnesina Palace in Rome, represents Galatea standing in a chariot drawn by dolphins, who are driven by a Cupid. Around her are Tritons, blowing their conch-shells, and embracing the at- tendant Nereids.
It is only a passing glimpse which the poet allows. Thales has hardly finished his paean to Water, as the creating and sustaining principle of life, when the triumphal procession is already afar. The long line of symbols has now reached its crown, and the allegory must close.
102. What fiery marvel the billows enlightens ?
Hornunculus sees at once the beginning and the perfect result of existence. Beauty is all around him : his imprison- ing glass glows and vibrates with his passionate yearning, and shivers itself at the feet of Galatea. The waves around the shell-chariot are covered as with fire : he begins life in the phosphorescent animalculas of the Ocean.
Some, here, imagine that Homunculus represents Eros ; others that he is Galatea (!); others that he is Faust's aes- thetic passion. I will only say that to one who has closely studied Goethe's life ; who has detected how the cramped and restricted existence in Weimar became almost unendura- ble to him, how a new freedom came through his acquaint- ance with Classic Art in Italy, with what passionate devotion he strove to comprehend the Ideal of beauty in the human form, shivering all former moulds in which his intellectual being was confined, and pouring his nature forth in an effu- sion of free and joyous desire to create a new being, for him- self, — to such a one, both symbols, which are here united in Homunculus, become clearly intelligible. If, in the Boy
412
FAUST.
Charioteer and Plutus we recognize Goethe's relation to Karl August, crowned by the leisure for poetic activity which the princely friend secured to the poet, may we not jfind symbol- ized in Homunculus the struggle which resulted in that aesthetic growth, that intellectual freedom, into which Goethe rose during and after his Italian journey, and finally, in Euphorion, the harmonious union of the Classic and Roman- tic elements in his own poetry, commencing with Iphigenia in Tauris and Tasso ?
The concluding chorus glorifies Eros, whom Hesiod men- tions as one of the original creative Powers. The four Ele- ments — Water, Fire, Air, and Earth — are celebrated, and Love is the generative principle through which all life, from its first rudimentary forms to the Supreme Beauty, is begot- ten from them. We are reminded of one of Goethe's epi- grams : —
Thou, in amazement, show'st me the Sea ; it seems to be burning : Waves are broken in flame, meeting the night-going ship !
I am no longer amazed : from the Sea was bom Aphrodite ; Was not then bom from her also the Flame, as her son ?
103. Helena. The Third Act is known in Germany as The Helena, not only because it was separately published in 1827 under the title of " Helena : a Classico-Romantic Phantasmagoria," but also because it is a complete allegorical poem in itself, inserted in the Second Part of Faust by very loose threads of attachment. It represents, indeed, in one sense, the aes- thetic development of Faust's nature, as an important part of his experience of " the greater world," and a step by which he attains to the higher being to which he aspires ; but this has already been announced, and, in itsel/, demands no such elaboration. The chief motive which governed Goethe was the reconciliation of the Classic and the Romantic : this dic- tated the form of the episode, which is quite as remarkable as its substance. Goethe, himself, recognized the preponder- ance of the latter allegory, and at one time debated whether he should not complete the Helena as a separate work. It
NOTES. 413
was perhaps Schiller's death which prevented the fulfilment of this plan.
I have related (in Appendix II., First Part) how Ecker- mann's suggestion led him, in 1825, to take up the neglected fragment, which was written in 1800. We can scarcely be wrong in assuming that the earlier scenes, read at the Court of Weimar in 1780, were of an entirely different character, and that nothing of them was retained. At that time the terms " Classic " and " Romantic " were not heard : Schil- ler's essay " On Naive and Sentimental Poetry " led to that literary discussion which divided the German authors into distinct parties, thus designated. A quarter of a century later the conflict was transferred to France, where it has scarcely yet subsided. The significance of the terms is, therefore, now so generally understood that no special ex- planation is necessary. We need only remember that the culture of the German people was then so high, and their intellectual interests so keen, that the subject possessed an importance which we are likely now to undervalue.
When the Helena was published, in 1827, Goethe himself announced it in his journal, Kunst und Alterthum, in an arti- cle which must needs be quoted entire : * —
"HELENA. INTERLUDE IN FAUST.
" Faust's character, in the elevation to which latter re- finement, working on the old rude tradition, has raised it, represents a man who, feeling impatient and imprisoned within the limits of mere earthly existence, regards the pos- session of the highest knowledge, the enjoyment of the fair- est blessings, as insufficient even in the slightest degree to satisfy his longing : a spirit, accordingly, which, struggling out on all sides, ever returns the more unhappy.
" This form of mind is so accordant with our modern dis- position, that various persons of ability have been induced to undertake the treatment of such a subject. My manner of
* I borrow Carlyle's translation from his article " Goethe's Helena," in the Foreign Review, 1828.
414 FAUST.
attempting it obtained approval : distinguished men consid> ered the matter, and commented on my performance ; all which I thankfully observed. At the same time I could not but wonder that none of those who undertook a continuation and completion of my Fragment, had lighted on the thought, which seemed so obvious, that the composition of a Second Part must necessarily elevate itself altogether away from the hampered sphere of the First, and conduct a man of such a nature into higher regions, under worthier circum- stances.
"How I, for my part, had determined to essay this, lay silently before my own mind, from time to time exciting me to some progress ; while, from all and each, I carefully guarded my secret, still in hope of bringing the work to the wished-for issue. Now, however, I must no longer keep back ; or, in publishing my collective Endeavors, conceal any further secret from the world ; to which, on the con- trary, I feel bound to submit my whole labors, even though in a fragmentary state.
" Accordingly I have resolved that the above-named Piece, a smaller drama, complete within itself, but pertaining to the Second Part of Faust, shall be forthwith presented in the first portion of my Works.
" The wide chasm between that well-known dolorous con- clusion of the First Part, and the entrance of an antique Grecian heroine, is not yet overarched ; meanwhile, as a preamble, my readers will accept what follows :
" The old Legend tells us, and the puppet-play fails not to introduce the scene, that Faust, in his imperious pride of heart, required from Mephistopheles the love of the fair Helena of Greece ; in which demand the other, after some reluctance, gratified him. Not to overlook so important a concern in our work was a duty for us : and how we have endeavored to discharge it will be seen in this Interlude. But what may have furnished the proximate occasion of such an occurrence, and how, after manifold hindrances, our old magical Craftsman can have found means to bring back the individual Helena, in person, out of Orcus into Life, must,
NOTES. 415
in this stage of the business, remain undiscovered. For the present, it is enough if our reader will admit that the real Helena may step forth, on antique tragedy-cothurnus, before her primitive abode in Sparta. We then request him to ob- serve in what way and manner Faust will presume to court favor from this royal all-famous Beauty of the world."
104. Chorus.
The opening of the act appears to be imitated from " The Eumenides " of ^Eschylus. Until the appearance of Faust, the form of the verse is purely classic, the iambic hexameter, and afterwards the trochaic octameter, alternating with the irregular yet wonderfully metrical strophes of the Chorus. Some features in the description of the burning of Troy, in this Chorus, are taken from the ^neid, but the form and character are Goethe's own. The first four strophes, in the original, are very grand. From the opening of the Act until the introduction of rhyme, after Faust's appearance, I have been able to retain the exact metres, while giving the lines very nearly as literally as in a prose translation.
Carlyle, whose version of this passage and of Helena's de- scription of the encounter with Phorkyas is so excellent, that, had he given us the whole Act, no other translation would have been necessary, says of the metres : *' Happy, could we, in any measure, have transfused the broad, yet rich and chaste simplicity of these long iambics ; or imitated the tone, as we have done the metre, of that choral song; its rude earnestness, and tortuous, awkward-looking, artless strength,
as we have done its dactyls and anapaests To our own
minds, at least, there is everywhere a strange, piquant, quite peculiar charm in these imitations of the old Grecian style ; a dash of the ridiculous, if we might say so, is blended with the sublime, yet blended with it softly and only to temper its austerity ; for often, so graphic is the delineation, we could almost feel as if a vista were opened through the long gloomy distance of ages, and we, with our modern eyes and modern levity, beheld afar off, in clear light, the very figures of that old grave time ; saw them again living in their old antiqua-
4i6
FAUST.
rian costume and environment, and heard them audibly dis- course in a dialect which had long been dead. Of all this, no man is more master than Goethe." l t
•-. . 105. Phorkyas. a
The reader will not have forgotten the transformation of Mephistopheles into a^horkjad (page 144), in the Classical Walpurgis-Night, and will thus understand how he, as the Spirit of Negation, here apjDcars in a female mask, as Ugli- ness, to torment and threaten Beauty. Carlyle says : " There is a sarcastic malice in tlae ' wise old Stewardess ' which cannot be mistaken." 1/
106, Choretid I. The quarrel between Phorkyas and the Chorus has been variously interpreted ; but it is evidently an imitation of the Greek tragedy. Very similar scenes occur in the AJax and Electra of Sophocles. The sole purpose, here, seems to be to bring out in sharper distinctness the malice of Phorkyas, and to identify her more completely with Mephistopheles. In the " Eumenides " of ^Eschylus, the members of the Chorus speak singly, in one scene, fifteen times in succession. Goethe's Chorus evidently consists of twelve, of whom six (one Semichorus) now speak.
107. To him, the Vision, /, a Vision, wed myself. The German word is Idol [eidolon) : I follow Carlyle in translating it " Vision," although the word " wraith " ex- presses the meaning more closely. Stesichorus is Goethe's authority for this myth concerning Helena : he even declares that it was only her eidolon, not herself, which was present in Troy. Professor Lehrs {Populdre Aufsdtze aus dem Alter- thum) says: "He (Stesichorus) was probably the inventor of the fable of the airy image, which he connected with the legend of Helena's residence in Egypt, and which he appears to have formed from the analogy of the eidolon of ^neas, about which the armies fight in the Iliad, and of that which Here substituted for herself, for the embraces of Ixion."
NOTES. 417
Her captivity in Egypt and her rescue from King Proteus, there, is the subject of the Helena of Euripides.
The union of Achilles, called from the shades, to Helena, on the island of Leuke, in Pontus (not Pherae, as Goethe says), is mentioned by Arctinus and Pausanias. The name of her son by him was Euphorion. Lehrs says : " That she was wedded to Achilles on the island of Leuke, which ap- pears to have been an Oriental Elysium, is based on the idea of uniting the highest beauty of Man and Woman."
The meaning of Helena's swoon is passed over by most commentators. It seems to me that it must be accepted in a dramatic, not an allegorical sense ; or, if the latter be de- manded, that it may have some reference to the apparent death of the Classic spirit, before its renaissance in the Middle Ages. What Goethe said to Riemer, after completing the Helena (and he expresses himself similarly in a letter to Wilhelm von Humboldt), may here be quoted.
" It is time that the passionate conflict between the Classic and Romantic schools should be at last reconciled. The main requisite is that we are developed : whence our devel- opment comes would be indifferent, were it not that we must fear to shape ourselves wrongly by false models. In the hope of sympathetic insight, I have freely followed my own mood in elaborating the Helena, without thinking of any public or of any single reader, convinced that he who easily grasps and comprehends the whole will also be able, through loving patience, gradually to accept and assimilate the de- tails."
108. Queen, the offering art thou. Goethe here follows one of the many Greek legends in relation to Helena. Although Homer relates that Menelaus threw away his sword, overcome by her beauty, when he again met her, yet there are frequent references in the poets (Euripides, among others) to a story of her having been sac- rificed. Goethe makes a skilful use of it, to account for Helena's migration from Classic to Romantic soil. Phorkyas maliciously amuses herself with the terror of the Chorus ; 18* AA
4i8 FAUST.
the summoning of the dwarfs to prepare for the sacrifice is but a grim joke : she is bound, as Mephistopheles, to obey Faust's command. Her threat of death to the Chorus is suggested by the punishment which Telemachus, in the Odyssey (Book XXII.), inflicts on the faithless maids.
109. Not robbers are they ; yet of many one is Chief.
We now begin to feel, as by a subtile premonition, the approach of the Romantic element. Although the line " So many years deserted stood the valley-hills," may be taken as a reference to the blank ages which followed the passing away of the classic world, yet the form in which the allegory is clothed has a singular distinctness and reality. Kreyssig speaks of the " sun-bright atmosphere " of the Helena, and Carlyle uses nearly the same expression : " It has every- where a full and sunny tone of coloring; resembles not a tragedy, but a gay, gorgeous mask." Nothing, indeed, is more wonderful than the delicate transition by which the antique form, spirit, and speech resolve themselves into the life, movement, and dithyrambic freedom of Modern Song. The two elements are equally represented in the external art, and in the characters, of the Interlude.
This must be borne in mind, when we attempt to find a special symbolism in every detail. Some things are un- doubtedly introduced for the sake of artistic tone; others, again, for their intrinsic picturesqueness ; others, perhaps, are the result of fleeting hints and suggestions which dropped into Goethe's mind as he wrote, surrendering himself freely to the mingled visions of the highest culture of the ancient and modern world. A full and consistent allegory is here impossible ; but, through the dissolving forms and colors of the '* Phantasmagoria," we catch continual glimpses of the leading idea.
The race, pressing forth from the Cimmerian Night, is of course the German, as we learn from the gold-haired boys. Diintzer says that the ^'■free-gifts " of which Phorkyas speaks refer to the mediaeval custom of purchasing security of the feudal barons ; but the circumstance that Goethe has itali-
NOTES.
419
cized the word hints of some particular significance, which I cannot discover. The description of Gothic architecture and the coats-of-arms is not ironical, as some assert, for under the mask of Phorkyas there is a mediaeval Devil.
no. Beauty is indivisible.
Phorkyas, here, and not when Helena chides her, forgets her part. The allegory becomes clear again, and its histori- cal element is more pronounced. Kreyssig has a passage which explains this crisis in Helena's fate : " The allegory shows us, in narrow space, a few boldly conceived dramatic scenes of that enormous revulsion, filling nearly a thousand years, which laid the antique culture in the grave of Barba- rism, in order to summon it forth therefrom, in the fulness of time, rejuvenated and reinspired, as the beaming dawn of a new day of the world. The demoralization of the Hellenic favorites of the Gods themselves tore the crown from the head of that Culture, even as Menelaus, possessing through the favor of the Gods the highest Beauty, drives, in his ignoble, vulgar passion, the innocent victim from the house of her fathers, and compels her to seek protection among the Bar- barians of the Cimmerian North."
Carlyle says of the remarkable Chorus, wherein the char- acters are carried in mist and vapor from the high House of Tyndarus to a feudal Castle of the Middle Ages : " Our whole Interlude changes in character at this point; the Greek style passes abruptly into the Spanish : at one bound we have left the Seven before Thebes (vEschylus) and got into the Vida es Sueno (Calderon). The action, too, becomes more and more typical ; or, rather, we should say, half-typi- cal ; for it will neither hold rightly together as allegory nor as matter of fact."
III. Inner court-yard of a Castle.
The reader will notice that although the classical form of
verse is still retained, the Gothic character of the subject
makes itself more and more prominent When the Chorus
describes the procession of blond-haired pages, the intro-
420 FAUST.
duction of an alternate anapaestic foot, followed by the short choriambic lines, prepares us for a coming metrical change. The transformation of time, place, and spirit is so artfully managed, that it is accomplished before we are aware, and as in dissolving views, the fading outline we have been watching proves to be the growing outline of a new scene.
The description of the youths suggests both Tacitus and the Non Angli sed angeli of Pope Gregory. It is the appear- ance of a new type of human beauty. The doubt and uncer- tainty of Helena and the Chorus, on finding themselves suddenly in the Gothic court-yard, are thus explained by Schnetger : " When Classic culture, with its ideal of Beauty, began to migrate northwards, it found the old Romantic world imprisoned in the darkness of priesthood, and sunken in monastic barbarism ; the spirit of the North was as gloomy and unlovely as were its castles, cloisters, and churches. Fear-inspiring, as a deep, dark pitfall, the me- diaeval walls meet the gaze of the daughter of Greece, ac- customed to freedom and to nature ; she stands alone, un- welcomed on alien soil, for the Romantic world had in the beginning no recognition for the lovely guest from afar."
112. Whose duty slighted cheated me of mine.
Faust drops one foot from the double trimeter, and speaks in modern heroic measure. The Leader of the Chorus, in her description, agrees with Phorkyas, preferring him to many of the antique models of manly beauty. He is here not yet Faust, — not even the Faust of the Classical Wal- purgis-Night, — but the new, virile element in Literature and Art, the growth of the Middle Ages, now so far devel- oped that it recognizes its ideal of Beauty in the supreme aesthetic culture of Greece. Only towards the close of the act does he again become the hero of the drama.
The Warder, Lynceus (pilot of the Argonauts), whom he leads in chains to Helena's feet, is variously interpreted. According to some, he represents both the Provencal trou- badours and the German Minnesingers, — the poets of love,
NOTES. 421
who, with all their sharp-sightedness, saw not the true art. Carlyle's guess seems to me more successful : " We cannot but suspect him of being a School Philosopher, or School Philosophy itself, in disguise." He may be the embodiment of Lore, in the scholastic sense, which, during the Middle Ages, plumed itself on the treasures which it had secured from antiquity, blind to the far greater treasure which was afterwards recalled to life, in the finer development of the race.
1 13. In the South arose the stitt.
" As it has frequently happened to the Germans," says Kreyssig. We surely have a reference here to the revival of the antique Beauty in Italian Art and Literature. It would be easy to illustrate this, as well as other passages, at length ; but I must endeavor to confine myself strictly to what is ne- cessary, in these Notes. The text suggests a wealth of allu- sions, for it is the attempt to epitomize the eighty years' knowledge and thought of one of the clearest and most active of all human brains. But the thoughtful reader will be satisfied with a guiding hint, and the one who takes up the Second Part of Faust for a simple recreation will never return to it again.
With Lynceus, rhyme, and the Romantic metre first ap- pear, although, for a short distance further, the Classic char- acters retain their native form of speech.
114. Forth from the East we hither pressed. The second address of Lynceus describes the migration of the races from the East, under which the whole Classical world was buried, until it slowly arose from the inundation to assist in shaping a new phase of human culture. The chief import of the verses seems to be, that all which War and Colonization achieved — territory, power, wealth, per- manence— becomes null and vain beside this new vision. It can only be restored, and to a better value, through the abiding presence «f the Beautiful, the worship of which is the crowning element of Civilization.
42 2 FAUST.
115. Each sound appeared as yielding to the next, Goethe has taken a Persian legend (related in his own West - (Estlicher Divan) of two lovers, Behram-gour and Dilaram, who invented rhyme in their amorous dialogues, and has applied it here with consummate skill, as a means of bringing Faust and Helena nearer. The gifts are not all on one side : the Romantic welcomes and worships the Classic, but in return it adds the music of rhyme to the proportion of metre. Thus the new element continues to absorb the old, through the loving mutual approach of the two. The allegory becomes so incarnate in the chief charac- ters that it impresses us like an actual human passion, and is so described by the Chorus. The very soul and being of the antique world — the proportion, the reality of form, and the sublime repose of Classic Art — are wedded, in a union perfect as that of love, to the sentiment, the passion, and the freedom of Romantic Art : and the latter, equally yield- ing, forgets Time, Place, and Race, and feels only that it now possesses the supreme Ideal of Beauty.
This is too much for Phorkyas - Mephistopheles : she breaks in upon the lovers, addressing them in rhymes which seem intended to satirize Rhyme itself, — so violent is their contrast to the melting speech of Helena and Faust. The interpenetration of the ancient and modern metres in this portion of the act is a wonderful piece of poetic art, and I must call the reader's special attention to it. Faust answers in the Greek iambic trimeter (for the first time), then returns to rhyme, while the Chorus and Phorkyas continue the clas- sic forms until the appearance of Euphorion, when the tran- sition is complete.
116. Signals^ explosions from the towers. Dtintzer conjectures that these " explosions " give us a hint of the invention of gunpowder and the use of artillery, towards the close of the Middle Ages. The commentators are generally agreed that Faust is here a type of the roman- tic, chivalrous spirit, which was expressed'in the Minnesing- ers and Troubadours, as the forerunners of Modern Liter-
NOTES. 423
ature. The apportionment of the Peloponnesus (except Sparta and Arcadia) among the Dukes is certainly a literary rather than an historical symbol. The literatures of the German, the Goth (Spain), the Frank and the Norman (England) share equally in the classic inheritance. May we not guess, then, that, as Helena is Queen over all, her spe- cial Spartan and Arcadian realm, wherein the Romantic, or Modern spirit is her spouse, is that region of the loftiest achievement, where Art and Literature cease to be narrowly national, but are for the world and for all time ?
117. This land, before all lands in splendor.
Yes : the question, asked at the close of the foregoing note, is answered. The Arcadia of Faust and Helena is the home-land of the highest Art and Song : Et ego in ArcadiA is the password which has been transmitted from generation to generation, and from race to race, through the long course of the ages. The name itself has a golden clang, and never was its mystic, illuminating power more thoroughly mani- fested than in these stanzas of the aged Goethe. We are reminded, it is true, of Ovid, Horace, and other ancient poets, and of Tasso's " O, bella eth delV oro! " — but here the ideal character of the realm is so blended with an exquisite picture of the actual Grecian province, that its hills, gorges, and happy meads rise palpably on our sight, as we read.
In the spring of 1858, after spending days beside the Eu- rotas and among the fastnesses of the Taygetus, I climbed from Messene into Arcadia, and everywhere, — whether plucking violets on the " Mount Lycsean " of Pan, or gazing on the lonely beauty of the temple of Apollo Epicureus, crushing the wild hyacinths along the mountain paths, or resting beside the herded goats and kine in the green vale of the Alpheus, — I felt both the magic of the name and its immemorial cause The mountains, that swell and fall in rhythmic undulations ; the wealth of crystal streams ; the grand forests of oak and pine ; the pure, delicious air, and the sweet, happy sense of seclusion which sefems to brood like a blessing over every landscape, must have been an in-
424 FAUST.
spiration to the earliest poet who sang to its people. Let it still continue to be a name for the dream of the pure and perfect life which Poetry predicts, and will predict forever .'
1 1 8. All worlds in inter -action meet. The original : —
Denn wo Natur im reinen Kreise waltet, Ergreifen all Welten sich, —
is one of those pregnant expressions which make the trans- lator despair, — for, the more thoroughly he is penetrated with the meaning, the less does it seem possible to express that meaning in any words. The literal translation is, " For where Nature sways in a pure circle (or orbit), all worlds (human and divine) reciprocally take hold on one another." The series is nowhere violently interrupted : the Gods reveal themselves through men, even as men rise to resemble Gods : the orbits of all spheres of existence are harmoniously inter- linked. But we here approach the highest regions of the Ideal ; and he who has not some little intuition to guide him will hardly follow the thought further.
119. Ye, alsOy Bearded Ones, who sit below and wait.
" It appears too, that there are certain * Bearded Ones,' (we suspect. Devils,) waiting with anxiety, 'sitting watchful there below,' to see the issue of this extraordinary transac- tion ; but of these Phorkyas gives her silly women no hint whatever." — Carlyle.
" If the French only recognize the Helena, they will per- ceive what may be made of it for their stage. The piece, as it is, they will ruin ; but they will employ it shrewdly for their own purposes, and that is all one can wish, or expect. They will certainly supply Phorkyas with a Chorus of mon- sters, which, indeed, is already indicated in one passage." — Goethe to Eckermann, 1831.
Diintzer, who so rarely lets anything escape him, does not seem to have noticed Goethe's remark. He insists that the *' Bearded Ones " are the spectators, whom Mephistopheles addresses ir Act II., Scene I., and in Act IV. For my part.
NOTES.
425
I find Goethe's meaning so very uncertain, that I prefer to hazard no conjecture.
120. CalVst thou a marvel this^ Cretans begotten ?
The son of Faust and Helena, as he is first described by Phorkyas, is Poetry, not an individual. In his naked beauty, his pranks and his sportive, wilful ways, he suggests not only the greater freedom of the Romantic element, but also the classic myths of Cupid and the child Hermes (Mercury). Phorkyas, in proclaiming him the " future Master of all Beauty," quite forgets that she is Mephistopheles. ^
The Chorus describes the birth and childish tricks of Hermes, as they. are related in Homer's hymn and Lucian's dialogues of the Gods. There is, perhaps, a " poetic-didac- tical word " for the reader, in their relation, as well as for Phorkyas. Hermes may possibly typify the Poetic Genius, which boldly steals the attributes of all the Gods, and even longs to grasp the thunderbolts of Zeus, the Father.
121. EUPHORION.
In the original legend, Faust has by Helena a, son, to whom he gives the name of Justjjs- Faustus, and who disappears with her when his compact with Mephistopheles comes to an end. In one of the ancient Grecian myths, Helena bears a son to Achilles (recalled from Hades) on the island of Leuke. This son, born with wings, was called Euphorion (the swift or lightly wafted), and was slain by the lightning of Jupiter. Goethe unites the two stories, and adds his own symbolism to the airy, wilful spirit, resulting from them.
We have, at the outset, three positive circumstances to guide us. Euphorion is here, as when he formerly appeared in the Boy Charioteer, Poetry ; he is born of the union of the Classic and Romantic ; and, shortly before he vanishes from our eyes, he becomes the representative of Byron. The last of these characters, however, was not included in Goethe's original plan. Indeed, it could not have been, since that plan was sketched while Byron was a boy at Harrow. We are
426 FAUST.
able to fix both the time and the special influences which led to the introduction of Byron ; and, moreover, the point in the allegory where the change commences may be easily de- tected.
Neither as we know him, nor as Goethe knew him, could Byron be the child of Faust and Helena : the only modern English poet to whom the symbolism would in any wise apply, is Keats. Among the Germans we might, if there were any indication pointing towards him, accept Schiller ; but we at once feel, I think, that no poet of this age has so subtly and harmoniously blended the two elements in his highest achievement, as Goethe himself. His Iphigenia in Tauris^ Tasso, Hermann and Dorothea, and Die Natiirliche Tackier (a singularly neglected masterpiece) will suggest themselves as illustrations, to all w^ho are acquainted with his works. Besides, the order in which the three boyish sprites are introduced reflects the order of his own develop- ment. In the Boy Charioteer we have his relation to Karl August, and his liberation from Court and official life ; in Homunculus, his first acquaintance, through Art in Italy, with the spirit of the Classic world, and his struggle to lift himself into another and purer poetical existence ; and finally, in Euphorion, the regeneration and birth of his nature in his greatest works. The allegory is carefully veiled, for long isolation, misrepresentation, and abuse had taught him to be cautious ; but he would not, in any case, have made it obvious to the running reader. The secret was too intimate and precious to be easily betrayed, yet it has not been hidden beyond the reach of that "love and patiencfe" on which he relied for a full and final recognition. He who discovers the symbolism must first pass through one chamber after another of the poet's nature, and, when he has reached the inner sanctuary, he has breathed the same atmosphere too long to see either vanity or arrogance, or aught but a justified self- consciousness, in these fair and mysterious forms.
During the appearance of Euphorion upon the stage, the Classic form is wholly lost, absorbed in the Romantic. The measure becomes a wild, ever-changing, rhymed dithyrambiQ
NOl'ES.
427
which, in the original, produces an indescribable sense of movement and music. I can only hope that something of the infectious excitement and delight which I have felt while endeavoring to reproduce it may have passed into the Eng- lish lines, and will help to bear the reader smoothly over the almost endless technical difficulties of translation. The spirit of the scene is quite inseparable from its rhythmical character.
There are references, in the first utterances of Phorkyas and the Chorus, to the new elements of Sentiment and Passion in Modern Poetry, as contrasted with the Classic ; but they need no further explanation. Some have supposed that Helena's first stanza : " Love, in human wise to bless us," etc., gives the additional meaning of the Family to her relation with Faust. The stanza, certainly, has this charac- ter, but only incidentally : the reference is too slight to be applied to the entire allegory.
122. Midst of Pelops' land.
Kindred in soul, I stand!
We may accept the lawlessness of Euphorion as, to a certain extent, reflecting Byron's wild, unregulated youth. Some of the German commentators, however, force the parallel quite too far, endeavoring to discover definite inci- dents of the poet's history in his dances with the Chorus, and his pursuit of the maiden who turns into flame. The individual character of Euphorion is very gradually intro- duced, and is first declared in the above lines.
Byron became acquainted with the First Part of Faust through Shelley, in 1816. There was at that time no Eng- lish translation of the work, and he offered to give a hundred pounds if he could have it in English, for his private perusal. His Manfred, which was written immediately afterwards, be- trays the strong impression which Faust left on his mind, — an impression which Goethe instantly detected, on first read- ing Manfred, the following year. The two poets appear to have occasionally exchanged greetings, through common acquaintances, and it was the wish of both that they might
428 FAUST.
meet. Byron dedicated his tragedy oi Sardanapalus to Goethe, in words, the like of which a poet has rarely addressed to one of his contemporaries : " To the illustrious Goethe a stranger presumes to offer the homage of a literary vassal to his liege-lord, the first of existing writers, who has created the literature of his own country, and illustrated that of Europe." In February, 1823, Goethe sent the following lines to Byron : —
" He who, with his own inner self at war, Grows strong, through wont, to bear the deepest pain, Be it well with him, when he himself shall know ! Dare he, to name himself as highly blessed, When the strong Muse shall overcome his pangs. And may he know himself, as I have known him ! "
This, followed by Byron's letters from Genoa and Leg- horn, was their only approach towards a nearer intercourse. Goethe was engaged in completing the Helena, in 1826, when Mr. Murray, the publisher, sent him the autograph of the Dedication to Sardanapalus ; and, from some hints which he let fall to Eckermann, his daughter-in-law, Ottilie von Goethe, who was an enthusiastic admirer of Byron, was an- other of the additional influences which, in combination, led him to change the character of Euphorion.
Goethe said to Eckermann (in 1827): "I could use no one but him, as the representative of our recent poetic time ; he is, without question, the greatest talent of the century. And then, Byron is not antique, and is not romantic, but he embodies the Present Day. Such a one I needed. He was also appropriate through his unsatisfied nature, and his mili- tary ambition, which ruined him in Missolonghi I
had intended, formerly, an entirely different conclusion to the Helena; I had elaborated it, for myself, in various ways, one of which was quite successful ; but I will not betray it to you. Then time brought me Byron and Missolonghi, and I let all else go. You have remarked, however, that the Chorus quite loses its part in the Dirge ; formerly it was antique throughout, or at least never contradicted its maiden- nature, but now it suddenly becomes grave and loftily re-
NOTES. 429
flective, and gives utterance to things which it never before thought or could have been able to think."
Goethe's estimate of Byron is not generally understood : it has, at least, been frequently misrepresented. I have, therefore, carefully gone through the correspondence with Zelter and Eckermann's three volumes, for the purpose of selecting such passages as may give, in the briefest space, a fair representation of his views. There is much more ma- terial, of the highest interest to the literary critic, but the following extracts may perhaps suffice to explain the fleeting adumbration of Byron which we find in Euphorion : —
" That which I call invention I find more pronounced in him than in any other man in the world. The manner in which he disentangles a dramatic knot is always beyond one's expectation, and always better than one's own precon- ceived solution."
" Had he only known how to impose upon himself moral restrictions ! It was his ruin that he was unable to do this, and we are justified in saying that his lawlessness was the rock on which he split."
"This reckless, inconsiderate activity drove him out of England, and in the course of time would have driven him out of Europe. Circumstances were everywhere too narrow for him, and with all his boundless personal freedom he felt himself oppressed : the world was for him a prison. His going to Greece was not a spontaneous resolution ; he was driven to it through his false relation to the world."
"We are forced to admit that this Poet says more than we wish ; he speaks the truth, but it gives us a sense of discom- fort, and we should prefer that he remained silent. There are things in the world which the Poet should veil rather than reveal ; yet this is precisely Byron's character, and we should destroy his individuality in attempting to change him."
" Byron's boldness, wilfulness, and grandiose manner, is it not an element of development ? "We must avoid seeking that element exclusively in what is decisively pure and ethi- cal. All that is great, as soon as we appreciate it, furthers our development."
430 FAUST.
"Byron's fatal fault was his polemical tendency." " Nevertheless, although Byron died so early, it was not a material loss to Literature, through the probable further expansion of his powers. He had reached the climax of his creative force, and, whatever he might have afterwards ac- complished, he could scarcely have enlarged the borders within which his talents were already confined."
From these, and other utterances of Goethe, it is very evident that what he most admired in Byron was not the harmonious union of the Classic and Romantic elements ; not the artistic perfection of form ; not the breadth and vi- tality of that Genius which lifts itself slowly, but on strong wings, through the still higher and clearer ether of thought : but that restless, mysterious, ever-creative quality which Goethe called Daimonic, the native, effortless splendor of rhythm and rhetoric, the sentiment of Nature pervaded and exalted by Imagination, and that virile power of transmitting himself to other minds, which we never can clearly analyze. Mr. Matthew Arnold has declared Byron to be "the greatest elemental power in English Literature, since Shakespeare," and this phrase briefly expresses Goethe's judgment. The latter was probably the first who ever looked beyond the prejudices of Byron's day, unmoved by the opposing gusts of worship and hate, and separated the poet's supreme and immortal qualities from the confusion of his life and the dross of his simulated misanthropy.
123. The path to Glory opens now. The Chorus entreats Euphorion to bide in the peaceful Arcadian land of Poetry ; and his answer is entirely in ac- cord with the spirit of the Philhellenes, during the Greek Revolution. The heroic struggle of the Suliotes, in which even women and children shared, is indicated in the pre- ceding verses, and then follows the closing chant, in which the wail of the coming dirge is fore-felt through the peal of trumpets and the clash of cymbals. I am not able to state whether Goethe had read Byron's last poem, written at Missolonghi, on his thirty-sixth birthday, when he wrote the
NOTES.
431
concluding portion of the Helena. It is strangely suggested here, in spite of the allegory, and the difference of metre.
124. Chorus. [Dir£-e.] Here all allegory is thrown aside : the four stanzas are a lament, not for Euphorion, but for Byron. They express Goethe's feeling for the poet, while the profound impression created throughout Europe by the news of his death was still fresh.
125. Helena's garments dissolve into clouds.
When Phorkyas bids Faust hold fast to Helena's garment, saying : —
" It is no more the Goddess thou hast lost, But godlike is it," — ^^^^k^
we are forced to forget the part she plays. She, — Mephis^ topheles in the mask of the Ideal Ugliness, — to call the garment of the Beautiful a "grand and priceless gift," which will bear Faust " from all things mean and low " ! This is a singular oversight of Goethe, and we can only guess that it was not noticed during his life, for the reason that the re- mainder of the Second Part was still in manuscript, and the character of Phorkyas thus not entirely clear to the critics.
Since Faust is only temporarily typical of the Artist, the symbolism embodied in the disappearance of Helena, and his elevation upon the clouds into which her garments are transformed, is not difficult to guess. The Ideal Beauty is revealed to few ; but even its robe and veil form a higher ether over all the life of Man. In the direct course of the drama, aesthetic culture is the means by which Faust rises from all forms of vulgar ambition to that nobler activity which crowns his life.
126. Service and faith secure the individual life. Panthalis, the Chorage, is the only member of the Chorus who has manifested an individual character throughout the Interlude ; consequently she retains it here, where the other members are about to be lost in the elements. We are reminded, by what she says, of Goethe's vague surmises
432
FAUST.
in regard to the future life. He hints on more than one oc- casion that a strong, independent individuality may preserve its entelechie (actual, distinctive being), while the mass of persons in whom the human elements are comparatively formless will continue to exist only in those elements. In 1829, he said to Eckermann : "I do not doubt our perma- nent existence, for Nature cannot do without the entelechie. But we are not all immortal in the same fashion, and in order to manifest one's self in the future life as a great entelechie, one must also become one." The subject seems to have been discussed with others ; for we find Wilhelm von Hum- boldt, in 1830, writing to Frau von Wolzogen : "There is a spiritual individuality, but not every one attains to it. As a peculiar, distinctive form of mind, it is eternal and immuta- ble. Whatever cannot thus individually shape itself, may return into the universal life of Nature."
127. Nature, the Ever -living.
The twelve maidens of the Chorus divide themselves into four groups, relinquish their human forms, and enter into the being of trees, echoes, brooks, and vineyards. Goethe was so well satisfied with this disposition of an antique fea- ture for which there seems to be no place in the romantic world, that we can hardly be mistaken as to his design. The transfusion of Nature with a human sentiment belongs exclusively to Modern Literature : it is not the Dryad, but the tree itself, not the Oread, but the Spirit of the Mountain, which speaks to us now.' We have lost the "fascinating existences " of ancient fable, in their fair human forms ; but Nature, then their lifeless dwelling, now breathes and throbs with more than their life, for we have clothed her with the garment of our own emotion and aspiration.
Unless this transformation, or a very similar one, were intended, the Chorus must of necessity have returned to Hades.
The description of the vintage with which the Act closes resembles, in the original, a fragment of the frieze of a tem. pie of Bacchus.
NOTES.
433
128. The curtain falls.
Duntzer interprets the Bacchanalian description as a pic- ture of the decadence of the antique world. When the curtain falls, Phorkyas remains in the proscenium, rises to a giant height, takes off her mask, and reveals herself as Meph- istopheles. Perhaps this may indicate that the element of Ugliness and Evil was not lost to the human race when the historical curtain fell on the beautiful culture of the Greeks, but remained as the sole link of union between the ancient and modern worlds !
The epilogue, which Goethe apparently planned, was never written. Indeed, after the publication of the Helena, in 1827, he scarcely again looked at its pages.
129. Yet seems to shape a figure.
The classic trimeter is purposely retained in the opening of this Act, as a last, dying reverberation of the Helena. Faust's soliloquy has also the character of an echo and a memory. The clouds upon which he has floated take the form of Helena, as they recede from him : the Ideal which he has been pursuing rests along the distant horizon, and the stony summits of actual life are again under his feet.
Goethe began to write Act IV. about the middle of Feb- ruary, 1 83 1. The apparent calm with which he received the news of his son's death was followed by an alarming hemor- rhage, and during the month of November, 1830, his life was in danger. His great age and increasing physical weakness warned him to make use of his remaining time, and fill the single remaining gap in the Second Part of /a«j-/; but that marvellous second spring-time of Poetry which we feel in the Helena and the Classical Walpurgis-Night, was over. Throughout this Act we notice, if not precisely the weariness of age, yet a sense of effort, of surviving technical skill not wholly filled and made plastic by the life of the author's con- ception. His original design for the Act had been given up, and the present substance was evidently adopted, perhaps at the last moment, because it offered fewer difficulties of execution.
VOL. II. 19 P B
434 FAUST.
In the Paralipomena we find some fragments of the original plan, which lead us to suppose that this Act should have had a political character. Since every other clew thereto has been lost, I simply give the fragments in the order in which they were printed by Eckermann and Riemer : —
MEPHISTOPHELES.
If wisdom could exist with youth,
And Republics without virtue,
Near were the world unto its highest aim.
Fie, be ashamed, that thou desirest fame ! 'T is Fame that charlatans alone befriends. Employ thy gifts for better ends Than vainly thus to seek the world's acclaim. After brief noise goes Fame to her repose ; The hero and the vagabond are both forgotten ; The greatest monarchs must their eyelids close, And every dog insults the place they rot in. Semiramis ! did she not hold the fate Of half the world 'twixt war and peace suspended, And in her dying hour was she not full as great As when her hand the sceptre first extended? Yet scarcely hath she felt the blow Which Deafh deals unawares upon her. When from all sides a thousand libels flow, Her corpse to cover with complete dishonor. Who understands what 's possible and fit May win some glory from his generation, But, when a hundred years have heard of it, No man will further heed thy reputation.
And when you scold, when you complain That my behavior all too rude appears,
Who tells you truth at present, plump and plain, He tells it to you for a thousand years.
Go, let thy luck then tested be ! Prove thy hypocrisy on all such matters, Then, lame and tired, return to me ! Man only that accepts, which flatters.
NOTES.
Speak with the Pious of their virtue's pay, Speak with Ixioii of the cloud's embraces. With kings, of rank and rightful sway, Of Freedom and Equality, with the races I
FAUST.
Nor this time am I overawed
By thy deep wrath, which plans destruction ever, —
The tiger-glance, wherewith thou look'st abroad.
So hear it now, if thou hast heard it never :
Mankind has still a delicate ear,
And pure words still inspire to noble deeds ;
Man feels the exigencies of his sphere,
And willingly an earnest counsel heeds.
With this intention I depart from thee,
But* here, triumphant, soon again shall be.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Then go, with all thy splendid gifts, and try it !
I like to see a fool for other fools concerned :
Each finds his counsel good enough, nor seeks to buy it,
But money, when he lacks it, won't be spumed.
435
Why men themselves so worry, fret and fray,
It is a stale, insipid way ;
The bread, we beg with daily breath,
Is not the finest, at its best ;
There 's also naught so stale as Death,
And that is just the commonest. *
130. A Seven-league Boot trips forward.
Goethe means to indicate by this image, and the first words of Mephistopheles, that Faust has been borne far away from his previous life, so that the former is obliged to make use of the seven-league boots of the fairy tale, in order to overtake him.
Mephistopheles, finding him among jagged peaks of stone, (a volcanic formation ?) immediately claims an infer- nal origin for them. Goethe's hostility to the Plutonic the- ory is again exhibited here, and with more of his irritation than in the Classical Walpurgis-Night. The episode is so
436 FAUST.
unnecessary (as the Germans would say, unmotrvirt) that wc can only explain it by the conjecture that something must have occurred in the scientific world, about the beginning of the year 1831, to renew Goethe's partisan feeling. I have not thought it necessary to ascertain this with certainty, for the point is hardly important enough to repay the uncertain labor, and the attempted satire is sufificiently plain.
131. A mystery manifest and well concealed.
Here, in the original, Riemer has added the reference : " Ephesians vi. 12," which I have omitted. The text is : " For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principali- ties, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places." Luther translates the last phrase : " against evil spirits under heaven." The preceding line also suggests ii. 2, of the same Epistle. Mephistopheles perhaps means to in- sinuate that through the Plutonic doctrine he and his fellow- devils have escaped from their old subterranean Hell, and he has again become " the prince of the power of the air."
Faust's reply expresses Goethe's idea of Creation, and in almost the same words which he more than once employed in describing it.
132. O'er all the land the foreign blocks you spy there.
In February, 1829, Goethe said to Eckermann : "Herr von Buch has published a new work, which contains an hy- pothesis in its very title. He means to treat of the granite blocks which lie about, here and there, one knows not how nor whence. But since Herr von Buch secretly cherishes the hypothesis that such granite blocks were cast out from within and shivered by some tremendous force, he indicates this at once in the title, where he speaks of scattered granite blocks. The step from this to the Force which scatters is very short, and the noose of Error is thrown over the head of the unsuspecting reader, before he is aware of it."
Erratische Blbcke is the common German term for " boul- ders." The reader, familiar with the science of our day,
NOTES.
437
must remember that the glacial theory was then unknown. Mephistopheles continues Goethe's satire by attributing the scattered boulders to the effects of Moloch's hammer, and mentions, in verification, the correspondence of popular su- perstition, which sees the Devil's hand in every unusual rock-formation.
133. The glory of the Kingdoms of the World. Here, again, Riemer has printed, opposite the text : " Matthew iv." It is, of course, the eighth verse to which he refers : " Again, the devil taketh him up into an exceed- ingly high mountain, and showeth him all the kingdoms of the world and the glory of them." The temptation of Christ was evidently Goethe's model for this portion of the scene. Mephistopheles offers the lures of authority and luxury, but Faust's nature has been enlightened and purified, and he adheres to his own grand design of a sphere of worthy activity.
134. The sum of rebels thus augmented. There is a marked contradiction, in this passage, to Faust's liberal and confiding view of the people, given in the Para- lipomena quoted in Note 129. Goethe, moreover, frequently declared that revolutions were always occasioned by the faults of the rulers, not by a native rebellious element in the people. In the description of a capital, which Mephis- topheles gives, it is probable that Paris was intended ; for the succeeding picture of "a pleasure-castle in a pleasant place" is undoubtedly Versailles. Since the scene was written early in 1831, the preceding July Revolution was probably fresh in Goethe's memory, and we may thus ex- plain Faust's apparent cynicism.
135. Mine eye was drawn to view the open Ocean.
In this description, from first to last, we recognize Goethe.
He frequently asserted that what we call the elements, the
active forces of Nature, are full of wild, unfettered impulses,
constantly warring against each other and against Man. The
438
FAUST.
grand Chant of the Archangels (Prologue in Heaven) repre- sents their endless operation, and is thus prophetic of Faust's sphere of activity. Society and Government have not satis- fied the cravings of his nature ; the Ideal, though its conse- cration is permanent, cannot be a possession ; and he now determines to enter into conflict with a colossal natural force, and compel its submission to the imperial authority of the human mind.
136. They, more than all, therein were implicated. C We must suppose that Mephistopheles, bound to obedi- ence, unwillingly serves in the fulfilment of plans which he cannot comprehend. Although he implicates Faust in the coming military movements, ostensibly for the purpose of acquiring possession of the ocean-strand through the help which the latter shall furnish to the Emperor, he is ever watchful to bring the affair to another issue. In the passage commencing : " A mighty error ! " Faust gives us Goethe's impression of Napoleon. Mephistopheles naturally casts upon the priesthood the heaviest responsibility for the anar- chy of the realm, and here, again, we have another view which Goethe frequently expressed.
137. No I But I 've brought, like Peter Squence. Shakespeare's Peter Quince becomes, in some English farce into which the comic parts of the " Midsummer Night's Dream " were worked, pedant and schoolmaster ; and in Gryphius's translation of this farce was introduced to Ger- many as " Herr Peter Squenze." — Diintzer.
138. The Three Mighty Men appear. Riemer here inserts the reference "2 Samuel xxiii. 8.*' But only the phrase seems to have been borrowed from the description of the three mighty men of David. The charac- ter given to the " allegoric blackguards " of Mephistopheles is not suggested by anything in Samuel, or the corresponding account in i Chronicles xi.
NOTES.
439
139. On the Headland. The disposition of the Imperial army is described with so much exactness of detail that the plan of battle, and the ap- plication of the magic arts which Mephistopheles employs, may be followed as readily as if we were furnished with a topographical chart. We find the Emperor, also, precisely as we left him in Act I., a weak, amiable ruler, with fitful impulses which he mistakes'for qualities of character, always planning great personal achievements which he forgets the next moment. In spite of the prosaic substance of this scene, it is overhung by a weird, strange atmosphere ; the real and the technical are singularly interfused with the su- pernatural, and we seem to be constantly on the point of feeling that vital poetic glow, which, in Goethe's eighty- second year, was but faintly smouldering under its own ashes.
140. For they, in crystals and their silence ^ furled. Precisely what Goethe intends to hint in this line is un- certain. It can scarcely be crystallomancy, as one of the forms of divination ; nor, as DUntzer says, "wonderful pha- ses of crystallization, considered as an external symbol of intellectual research." Goethe attributed to Crystallization many mountain-phenomena which the Plutonists explained by upheaval, and this may be, possibly, a last, subsiding echo of his scientific prejudices.
141. The Sabine old, the Norcian necromancer.
Faust introduces an episode of the Emperor's coronation in Rome, in explanation of his assistance, and the Arch- bishop-Chancellor afterwards mentions the same incident, in the very opposite sense. In one of the notes which Goethe attached to his translation of the Autobiography of Benve- nuto Cellini, we detect the original material from which he constructed this passage : —
" From whatever cause the mountains of Norcia, between the Sabine land and the Duchy of Spoleto, acquired the name in old times, they are called to this day the Mountains
440 FAUST.
of the Sibyls. Old writers of Romance made use of this locality in order to conduct their heroes through the most wonderful adventures, and thus increased the belief in those magical figures, the first outlines of which were drawn by the Legend. An Italian story, Guerino Meschino, and an old French work, relate strange occurrences, by which cu- rious travellers have been surprised in that region; and Messer Cecco di Ascoli, who was burned in Florence in the year 1327, on account of his necromantic writings, is still remembered, through the interest felt in his history by the chroniclers, painters, and poets."
1 42. Self is the Man ! Again Goethe speaks ; but his eloquent advocacy of a free, independent development of the individual becomes a hollow pretence in the Emperor's mouth. Faust's reply is a piece of flattery, which would have been more appropriate to Mephistopheles.
143. Bully (coming forward).
The original of this name is Raufebold, and those of the other Mighty Men Habebald (accompanied by the vivandi^re, Eilebeute) and Haltefest. The first verse of Isaiah viii. : " Moreover, the Lord said to me. Take thee a great roll, and write in it with a man's pen concerning Maher-shalal-hash- baz" — reads, in Luther's translation : " Und der Herr sprach zu mir : Nimm vor dich einen grossen Brief ; und schreib darauf mit Menschen-Griffel Raubebald, Eilebeute.''''
I applied to the Rev. Dr. Conant for the exact interpreta- tion of the Hebrew words, and take the liberty of quoting his reply : —
" Habebald and Eilebeute were suggested to Goethe by the symbolic name, Maher-shalal-hash-baz, the meaning of this name [hasten the spoil, speed the prey) portending that the spoiler and plunderer was at hand. In this, as its general import, critics are agreed, although there is a difference of opinion as to the grammatical construction. Gesenius, in his translation of Isaiah, expresses it well by Raubebald
NOTES.
441
Eilebeute. Goethe was familiar with the same forms, trans- posed, in Luther's version. I take it that Goethe regarded the spirit of plunder as the foremost element in war ; and hence he has placed its representative, under the symbolic name of Habebald, at the head of the central phalanx.
" Half the Hebrew name he has given to the vivaiidiire, introduced (as I suppose) both to enliven the representation and to characterize another revolting accompaniment of war, '■die Frauist grimmig wenn sie greift^' tX-C. Hence the other half of the name, Raubebald^ he is obliged to transform to Habebald, both as better suited to the office of a military leader, and to avoid too close a resemblance to the name of another of his characters, whose participation in the fruits of victory it truly represents."
There is no doubt that these characters symbolize the human elements manifested in war. Bully represents the fierce, brutal, unrestrained spirit of fight; Havequick is the thirst for booty, for the spoils of victory in every form ; and Holdfast seems to be the stubborn quality of resistance, the chief strength of armies.
144. A ruddy and presaging glow. The reader, familiar with Goethe's works, is referred to the latter's description of his attack of "cannon fever" in the " Campaigii in France " (1792). The passage is too long to be quoted ; but the circumstance that the entire field of battle appeared to be tinged with a red color is here intro- duced. A careful examination of the " Campaign " would probably discover much of the material which is employed in this scene ; and I venture to say that the chief reason why Goethe relinquished his first political plan, and accepted a representation of War in its stead, was, that it was very much easier for him to draw upon his memory than to task his failing powers of invention.
145. Attend! the sign is now expressed. After introducing the Fata Morgana of Sicily and the fires of St. Elmo, Faust reassures the Emperor, who has 19*
442
FAUST.
become bewildered and somewhat alarmed, by a sign in the air, such as is described by Homer [Iliad, XII.) and Plu- tarch [Timoleon). Goethe certainly designed, by these fea- tures, to give a ghostly atmosphere to the scene ; but he may have also meant to unite the superstition of the people with the brutality of war.
146. The thing is done ! — The apparent advantage of the enemy, in carrying the position occupied by the left wing of the Emperor's army, makes Faust's aid (through Mephistopheles) indispensable to victory. The latter, therefore, employs all his magic de- vices, in turn. Goethe seems to have ransacked the super- stitions of History, and combined their most picturesque features. We are reminded of the storm and flood described by Plutarch, of St. Jago fighting for Spain, of the apparitions and noises which are reported to have accompanied many famous battles ; but the most effective agent, after all, is transmitted party hate.
147. Thou sowest treasure on the land. "Did the poet, perhaps, mean to indicate that booty is usually thoughtlessly squandered again, or only to describe, in general, the reckless haste of plunder, whereby the best is lost to the greedy robber hands, which attempt to grasp too much "i " — Diintzer.
148. ' Tis Contribution, —ca// it so! . Havequick retorts that the contributions levied by armies in a hostile country are only another form of plunder.
149. Emperor.
The Alexandrine metre, with alternate masculine and fem- inine rhymes, in which the remainder of the scene is written, is not Goethe's invention, as some have supposed. I find it in a Prologue of Lessing, written in 1765; but it may also be found, in brief poems, fifty years earlier.
The scene, properly understood, is a grave, powerful satire
NOTES. 443
on the Imperial system of government. All the artificial ritualism of Courts is set forth so naturally and consistently, that we must recall the Emperor's assumed manhood and the great danger he has just escaped, in order to feel the hollow selfishness which, disregarding the condition of the realm and the grievances of the people, only employs itself with the arrangement of ceremonials.
1 50. When newly crowned, thou didst the wizard liberate.
The reader will have already remarked that the satire of this scene is not limited to its mediaeval features. It not only embraces that mechanical statesmanship which, after a great historical crisis, sees no other policy than the re- establishment of previous conditions, but it shows, in a con- trast which grows sharper towards the close, the grandeur of intelligent human ambition, embodied in Faust, and the narrow greed and selfishness, first of the State, and then of the Church. The indifference of the secular princes be- comes almost a virtue, beside the bigotry of the Archbishop. The latter refers to the humanity of the young Emperor, in saving the life of the Norcian necromancer, as an unatoned sin. The acceptance of the wizard's gratitude, in the aid rendered by Faust and Mephistopheles, although it has saved the dynasty, (and the Archbishop himself, with it,) is a still greater sin, deserving the ban of the Holy Church. The Emperor is required to make heavy sacrifices of land, money, and revenues, before he can receive full absolution for his guilt. We are reminded of the priest's words to Margaret's mother (First Part, Scene IX.) : —
"The Church alone, beyond all question, Has for ill-gotten goods the right digestion."
But the climax of rapacity, and also of inconsistency, is reached when the Archbishop demands the tithes of the new land which Faust has not yet reclaimed from the sea.
151. ACT V.
On the 13th of February, 1831, Goethe said to Ecker- mann, after stating that he had commenced the Fourth Act :
444
FA UST.
" I shall now arrange how to fill the entire gap between the Helena and the already completed Fifth Act, writing down my thoughts in detail as a programme {Schema), so that I may execute it with thorough ease and certainty, and also that I may work on whatever parts attract me most."
Yet, on the 2d of May, Eckermann writes : " Gpethe delighted me with the news that he had succeeded, within the last few days, in supplying the commencement of the Fifth Act of Faust, which was hitherto lacking, so that it is now as good as finished. * The design of these scenes also,' said he, * is more than thirty years old ; it was so important, that I did not lose my interest in it, but so difficult to elabo- rate, that I was afraid of the task. By the employment of many devices, I have at last taken up the thread again, and if Fortune favors me, I shall finish the Fourth Act before I stop.' "
Again, in a letter to Zelter, written June i, 1831, Goethe says : " It is no trifle that one must represent externally in one's eighty-second year what one has conceived in one's twentieth, and clothe such a living inner skeleton with sin- ews, flesh, and epidermis."
Here are apparent contradictions, which, I think, may be thus explained: In his letter to Zelter, Goethe simply re- fers to the original conception of Faust. The concluding part of Act V., commencing at Scene V. (Midnight : Four Gray Women enter), was written about the beginning of the century — certainly between 1800 and 1806 — and was per- haps intended to be the entire Act. At least, it seems prob- able that the sphere of activity which crowns Faust's life was first separated from the closing scenes of the drama. If Goethe, therefore, simply transferred the first four scenes from the Fourth Act to the Fifth, after remodelling the former, all these discrepancies of statement become intel- ligible.
Goethe also said : " That which, in my early years, was possible to me daily, and under all circumstances, can now only be accomplished periodically and under certain fortu- nate conditions Now, I can only work on the Second
NOTES.
445
Part of my Faust during the early hours of the day, when I am restored by sleep, feel myself strengthened, and the dis- tractions of daily life have not confused me. Yet, after all, what is it that I accomplish ? In the luckiest case, one written page ; but ordinarily only a hand's breadth of manu- script, and often, in an unproductive mood, still less."
It is very evident that the first four scenes of this last Act, having a more lyrical form than the conclusion of the Fourth Act, which was written a few weeks later, were a sore task to the aged poet. The metre is stiff and almost painfully constrained, and the construction sometimes so crabbed that I have twice or thrice been compelled to vary the phrase slightly for the sake of fluency. But the reader, no less than the critic, will be generous ; and, keeping the grand design in view, will not too sharply scrutinize the imperfections of detail.
152. Baucis.
" Goethe showed me to-day the beginning of the Fifth Act of Faust^ which had been lacking. I read to the passage where the hut of Philemon and Baucis is burned, and Faust, standing on the balcony of his palace at night, smells the smoke, borne to him by the wind.
" * The names Philemon and Baucis,' said I, ' transport me to the Phrygian shore, reminding me of that famous antique pair ; but this scene is laid in modern times and in a Chris- tian region.'
" ' My Philemon and Baucis,' said Goethe, ' have nothing to do with that antique pair and the legend concerning them. I only gave them the same names, to dignify the characters. The persons and circumstances are similar, and the names thus will have a good effect.' " — Eckermann^ June 6, 183 1.
153. Where the Sea's blue arc is spanned. The Wanderer is introduced in order that the changes which Faust has wrought in the region may be described. The sea, which broke on the downs where the former was wrecked, years before, is now only seen as a blue horizon- line in the distance.
446
FA UST.
154. Knaves in vain by day were storming. The original line is : " Tags umsonst die Knechte IdrmtenP Some translators have rendered the word umsonst into " un- paid," because it has frequently the meaning of "gratis." The other and equally correct rendering is suggested to me by the circumstance that the workmen were employed by night as well as by day. The account which the old couple give of Faust's cruelty must not be taken too literally : they are no friends of innovation.
155. My grand estate lacks full design.
The Warder, Lynceus, is here introduced for the purpose of describing the action. Schnetger, it is true, says he is the " prophetic vision of the Poet," mourning over the de- struction of the Beautiful by the modern Industrial Spirit ; but I find in him no symbolism whatever, — certainly noth- ing which connects him with his namesake of the Helena. Goethe's plan could not be embodied in dramatic dialogue ; it required descriptive passages, and the vehicle through which to introduce them was not always readily found.
" Faust, as he appears in the Fifth Act," said Goethe to Eckermann, " is just one hundred years old, according to my intention ; and I am not certain whether it would not be well to express this positively, somewhere."
156. With twenty come to port again. Mephistopheles, still forced to serve, turns his commercial into a piratical voyage, and hopes to secure Faust's com- plicity in Evil by tempting him to accept the precious spoils of all climes, and the vessels which he has accumulated. His argument, that War, Trade, and Piracy are " three in one," makes no impression on Faust, who, as we learn from the Three Mighty Men, turns away from the bribe in disgust.
157. To-fnorrow the gay birds hither wend. This is an obscure line, which some interpret as denoting those seaport sirens who consume so much of the sailor's
NOTES.
447
earnings. The Three Mighty Men represent the sea-faring class, so far as their character is drawn : Goethe did not feel himself on very secure ground here, and contented himself with indicating the sailor's blunt coarseness of speech and fondness for carousals.
158. No sorer plague can us attack,
Than rich to be, and something lack.
The reader must remember Faust's age, and his long course of successful achievement, in order to understand his present impatience and petulance. He loses all joy in his vast possessions, because the neighboring sand-hill, whereon he wishes to build a lookout for a view over all his new, thickly-peopled realm, is the property of another who refuses to sell or exchange it. Goethe has borrowed this incident from the story of Frederick the Great and the miller of Potsdam.
159, Still Naboth's vineyard we behold. Riemer has here inserted a side -reference : ** i Kings xxL"
It will be enough to quote the second and third verses ; —
2. And Ahab spake unto Naboth, saying, Give me thy vineyard, that I may have it for a garden of herbs, because it is near unto my house ; and I will give tUee for it a better vineyard than it ; or, if it seem good to thee, I will give thee the worth of it in money.
3. And Naboth said to Ahab, The Lord forbid it me, that I should give the inheritance of my fathers unto thee.
160. Forgive ! not happily V was done.
Faust, impatient at being so long thwarted in his plans, so far yields to Mephistopheles that he consents to employ force. Here is yet another — and the last — chance for the Spirit of Evil to win his wager. Like Jezebel, he compasses the death of Naboth- Philemon. The result is incendiarism and murder, not forcible jemoval ; and Faust, instead of accepting the coveted property, curses the rash, inhuman deed.
448 FAUST,
i6i. Midnight. There can be no doubt that the earlier written portion of the Fifth Act commences with this scene. In the absence of any special evidence, I cannot fix the exact time ; but I think it must have been in existence before Schiller's death (1805). The atmosphere of the First Part begins to breathe upon us again, as if from a distant Past; gradually and successively the old warmth and harmony and power revive ; the chimes and chants of Easter morning are heard again in the Choruses of the Angels, and we are lifted, at the close, into a region of Heaven less austerely sublime than that of the Prologue, but burning into clearest whiteness through the ineffable Presence of the Divine Love.
162. Necessity, mine.
I have followed Dr. Anster in thus translating Noth, which may also be rendered " trouble " and " need," for the reason that Care, in this scene, includes the former meaning, and Want the latter.
The character of the three gray sisters, Want, Guilt, and Necessity, is explained when they declare that they cannot enter the house of the Rich ; but Care, the atra cura of Horace, has free entrance everywhere. Goethe's conception of her being s^ems to be the embodied Worry, and the other three have no further apparent significance than to separate her from the other tormenting powers of life, and thus the more clearly define her nature.
163. Then were it worth one's while a man to be!
Goethe said to Eckermann {1828): "But we old Euro- peans are all more or less in evil plight Each is re- fined and polite, but no one has the courage to be cordial and true, so that an honest man with natural ideas and im- pulses stands in an unfortunate position. Often one cannot help wishing that one had been born upon one of the South- Sea Islands, a so-called savage, so as once to have purely felt human existence, without any false flavors."
Faust's reference to his magic and to his curse ( First Parti
NOTES. 449
Scene IV.) is another evidence of the time when the scene was written, for it shows that the original conception was still fresh and warm in Goethe's mind. In spite of his great age, we feel that we have again met the Faust of the First Part, instead of his shadowy representative of the preceding acts.
164. This World means something to the Capable ! The original line, Dem Tiichtigen ist diese Welt nicht stumm, is difficult to translate — "To the capable (or genu- ine) man this world is not mute," that is, it reveals to him its uses and possibilities. This was the first article in Goethe's creed of life, and he has expressed it, in his poems, in a multitude of forms.
165. But in my inmost spirit all is light. vJ^'^
Faust's selfish desire for a station on the linden-trees, whence to overlook his lands, and the crime to which it led, are justly avenged by his blindness. But with the external darkness comes a growing spiritual light, the " obscure as- piration " gives place to knowledge and faith. The passage is pregnant with meaning, but nothing in it is vague or doubtful.
166. Lemures. Goethe has here borrowed (probably from Percy's Religues, which he knew) the original song of Lord Vaux, a part of which Shakespeare puts into the mouth of the grave-digger in " Hamlet." But he has taken only the first half of the verses, completing them with other lines of his own. There- fore I have only translated these latter, and added them to the original English lines. In " Hamlet," the verses are : —
In youth, when I did love, did love,
Methought it was very sweet, To contract, O the time, for ah, my behove,
O, methought there was nothing meet.
But Age, with liis stealing steps,
Hath clawed me in his clutch, And hath shipped me into the land.
As if I have never been such.
45^
FA UST.
Goethe shows his knowledge of English literature, in re- storing the line of Lord Vaux : —
Hath clawed me with his crutch. Moreover, his variation of this latter verse, at least, is en- tirely in the spirit of the original.
167. They spake not of a moat, but of — a grave. The original line contains a pun which cannot be given in translation : —
Man spricht, wie man mir Nachricht gab, Von keinem Graben., doch vom — Grab.
168. He only earns his freedom and existence , Who daily conquers them, anew.
In these lines Goethe has unconsciously remembered a passage from Schiller's Wilhelm Tell: —
*• Dann erst geniess' ich meines Lebens recht, Wenn ich mir 's jeden Tag aufs neu erbeute."
(Then first do I truly enjoy my life, when I reconquer it every day as a new possession.)
It is hardly necessary that I should call the reader to ob- serve how Faust's great work, which was at first planned to exhibit the victory of Man over the forces of Nature, now becomes, to his clearer spiritual vision, a permanent gain and blessing to the race. All unselfish work is better than the worker knows : and if Faust has only given "free activity" and not absolute " security " to the millions who shall come, he sees, at last, the great value of their very insecurity, as an agent which shall keep alive the virtues of vigilance, association, and the unselfish labor of each for the common good. He foresees a free people, living upon a free soil, — courage, intelligence, and patriotism constantly developed anew by danger. There is a passage in Montesquieu's Esprit des Lois, wherein a similar thought is expressed. Through this prophetic vision, Faust experiences the one foment of supreme happiness. He has attained it in spite -^ of, not through, Mephistopheles. He has blessed his fel-
NOTES. 451
low-men for aeons to come, by creating for them a field of existence, surrounded with conditions which assure them its possession and their own freedom and happiness. Not through Knowledge, Indulgence, Power, — not even through the pure passion of the Beautiful, or victory over the Ele- ments,— has he reached the crowning Moment which he would fain delay ; the sole condition of perfect happiness is the good which he has accomplished for others.
. 169. But Time is lord, on earth the old man lies.
Mephistopheles almost quotes the Archbishop (page 270) : —
" Who patient is, and right, his day shall yet arise." His manner also suggests his words to the Lord, in the Prol- ogue in Heaven : —
" If I fulfil my expectation. You '11 let me triumph with a swelling breast."
The Chorus now purposely repeats the expression used by Faust^ in completing the Compact (First Part, Scene
IV.):-
Then let the death-bell chime the token. Then art thou from thy service free ! The clock may stop, the hand be broken, Then Time be finished unto me !
The answer of Mephistopheles to the exclamation of the Chorus : " 'T is past ! " seems to conflict with the passion for annihilation, which he expresses in first describing his nature to Faust (First Part, Scene III.). He drops his character of Negation suddenly, and becomes the popular Devil, who is a very positive personage. From this point to the end, we are reminded of the Miracle-plays of the Middle
Ages,
170. Sepulture.
The chant of the Lemures is here again suggested by the Grave-digger's song in Hamlet, third verse : —
'* A pickaxe and a spade, a spade. For and a shrouding sheet : O, a pit of clay for to be made For such a guest is meet"
452
FAUST.
171. Hell hath a niultittide of jaws, in short. Goethe's first plan was to send Mephistopheles into the presence of The Lord, for the purpose of announcing that he had won. This, however, would have interfered with the effect of the closing scene, and he selected, instead, the machinery of the Miracle-plays, as better adapted to his pur- pose. The open jaws of Hell, as they are still represented in many chapels of Catholic countries, and the two varieties of Devils, are intentionally introduced as a coarse, almost vulgar framework for a scene which is meant to include the sharpest contrast of two principles, Heaven stooping down, and Hell rising up to take hold of the soul of Man.
172. Pluck off the wings, V is but a hideous worm. This passage is a satirical reference, both to the old tradi- tions of the appearance of the soul and its manner of escape from the body, and to various psychological speculations of recent times.
173. And Genius, surely, seeks at once to rise. The long, lean Devils, in whom a commentator (probably related to Nicolai) finds a symbol of the Jesuits, are directed to catch the soul in the air, if it should escape the clutches of those who bend over the body. All the contempt of Mephistopheles for Faust's ideal aspirations seems to be ex- pressed in this sneer at ** Genius."
1 74. Is just the thing their prayers demaitd.
Mephistopheles here becomes Goethe, for a moment. The latter firmly believed in the universality of the Divine Power and the Divine Love, and few things were more repulsive to his nature than the horrors of the conventional Hell of medi- aeval theology. Nothing could be more savagely satirical than this declaration of Mephistopheles that the worst tor- ments invented by the fiends are demanded by the faith of the Pious.
Hartung says of the appearance of the angels : " Mephis- topheles calls the glory which surrounds them an ' unwelcome
NOTES.
453
day,' their chant a ' nasty tinkling, a boy-girb'sh strumming,' etc. This is a satire on the Moravian hymns and those of other canting sects." The correctness of the last assertion is by no means evident.
175. Chorus of Angels (scattering roses). The angelic choruses in this scene are scarcely less won- derful than those of Easter morning, in the First Part. They present an equal difficulty to the translator in their interlink- ing feminine and dactylic rhymes, and perhaps a greater one in that unnatural compression of phrase which almost de- stroys the form of the thought. In one or two instances Goethe has attempted the impossible, and failed; yet his failure is so grand that we are tempted to accept it as a success. I add the literal translation of this Chorus, for the help of those who are unacquainted with the original : —
Roses, ye dazzling, Balsam out-sending ! Fluttering, hovering. Secretly animating, Branch-winged, Bud-unfolded, Hasten to bloom ! Let Spring shoot. Purple and green I Bear Paradise To the One who rests !
In the closing scene, the roses are declared to have been scattered by the hands of " loving, sanctified women-peni- tents." They are symbolical of Love; but not yet, as some commentators suggest, of the Divine Love. I agree with Dr. Bloede, who in his essay, Die Religions- Philosophie Goethe's, calls them " acts of Love," in which the highest principle of Good, manifested through Man, overcomes the principle of Evil.
176. Angels. The spirit of this Chorus is clear, in the original, but not the language. Even a literal translation is impossible unless
454 P^VS'r-
we supply, conjecturally, the singular ellipses of the German lines : —
Blossoms, the blissful,
Flames, the joyous,
Love disseminate they,
Rapture prepare they.
As the heart may [receive or contain?].
Words, the true.
Ether in clearness,
To Eternal Hosts
Everywhere Day !
The meaning of the last four lines seems to be that true words are the clear ether wherein the eternal hosts of spirits find everywhere Day — or Light. There are several Ger- man interpretations of this chant.
177. Chorus of Angels. The grdtesque, mediseval character of the strife belongs to the Devils alone ; the Angels are not yet seen, only their Chants fall from the Glory above. The celestial Roses burn and sting, "sharper than Hell's red conflagration," and both varieties of Devils are so tormented that they plunge head foremost into the Jaws which stand open upon the left hand, leaving Mephistopheles alone. We are to suppose that the Angels gradually descend during the singing of this Chorus, which I also give literally : —
What not appertains to you
Must you avoid ;
What troubles your inner being
Dare you not suffer.
Should it press powerfully in,
We must be thoroughly strong ;
Love only the Loving
Leads in to us !
1 78. What now restrains me^ that I dare not curse ? Whatever may be said of the coarseness and irreverence of this and the following passage (Julian Schmidt, for in- stance, pronounces them "atrocious"), there could be no more tremendous illustration of the baseness and blindness
NOTES.
455
of the principle of Evil. Although Mephistopheles is cov- ered from head to foot, like Job, with boils which the burn- ing roses have left behind them, he becomes enamored of the beauty of the Angels... , In this languishing mood he is doubly aTTevil, and the Negation embodied in him reaches a climax beyond all previous suggestion, for it is placed in antagonism to sacred purity.
179. Chorus of Angels.
Literally : —
Change into clearness, Ye, loving Flames ! Them who damn themselves Let Truth heal, That they from Evil Joyously redeem themselves. Thus in the All-union Blessed to be \
1 80. The old case-hardened Devil went astray. The word which I have translated "case-hardened" is ausgepichten^ an adjective usually applied to barrels and signifying •' thoroughly seasoned with pitch." This is one of the many instances where the correct translation must be equivalent, and not literal. The impression left upon Meph- istopheles is evidently that the Angels have taken advantage of his attack of " senseless pasSTOR'^TorTHem, zxiSTstolen fronrhim the soul of Faust. He understands of his compacty-fen:^demption through loyg. labor for others is to him simply inconiprehensible. Thus, not only consistent with his original character, but illustrat- ing, as never before in the whole course of the drama,~the eternal ignorance and impotence of^vil, he disappears from our sight. _ v^"^^
181. Holy Anchorites. This closing scene, although it ends in the higher regions of Heaven, appears to begin on Earth. Goethe evidently meant to symbolize a continual ascending scale of being, in
s only the letter.,^/" J ^nd beneficent^^y^*^""'^
456
FAUST.
which Death is simply a form of transition, not a profound gulf between two different worlds. In one of his letters to Zelter, he says : " Let us continue our work until one of us, before or after the other, returns to ether at the summons of the World -Spirit! Then may the Eternal not refuse to us new activities, analogous to those wherein we have here been tested ! If He shall also add memory and a continued sense of the Right and the Good, in His fatherly kindness, we shall then surely all the sooner take hold of the wheels which drive the cosmic machinery {in die Kdmme des Welt- getriebes eingreifen).''''
The scene (apparently from some hint of Goethe's, which has not been recorded*) is taken, according to the best German commentators, from Montserrat, the remarkable, isolated mountain near Barcelona. This mountain, during the Middle Ages, was inhabited by anchorites, who were divided into regions according to the degree of spiritual per- fection which they attained ; the youngest occupying cells in the great summit-pyramids of rock, difficult and dangerous of access, while the older, after certain probations, gradually approached the base, their privations diminishing as their sanctity increased. Goethe reverses this order, commencing with the spirits who retain most of Earth, and rising above the highest summits into the pure, spiritual ether.
Schnetger's remarks are as just as they are concise : " The whole closing scene exhibits nothing else to us than a uni- versal upward movement of loving natures, to whom other loving natures offer their hands ; so that we have a long chain, the lowest link of which is on the Earth, the highest in the loftiest regions of Heaven, the lowest a man still heavily burdened with the Corporeal, the highest the Deity.
* An indirect clew may perhaps be found in the following passage from a letter which Wilhelm von Humboldt, after visiting Montserrat, wrote to Goethe: "Your Mysteries [a poem written by Goethe in 1785] rose distinctly in my memory. I have always taken an unusual delight in that beautiful poem, which expresses such a wonderfully lofty and human feeling; but now, since I have visited this spot, it interweaves itself with something in my own experience."
NOTES. 457
It is not a Heaven full of eternally inactive bliss, such as lazy Piety imagines, which is exhibited to us, but one of the purest loving activity.
182. Pater Ecstaticus.
It is generally agreed — and the tendency of Goethe's mind during his last years justifies the belief — that the three Patres symbolize different forms or manifestations of devo- tional feeling. Their appearance, as we afterwards feel, was suggested by the necessity of avoiding a sudden transition from the blasphemous sensuality of Mephistopheles to the "indescribable " exaltation of the closing mystery ; but they also have their appropriate place in this ever-rising and ever- swelling symphony, with its one theme of the accordance of Human and Divine Love.
Since it was known that Goethe selected actual figures to serve as, at least, an imaginary basis for his spiritual and al- legorical characters, the commentators have exhibited their research in endeavoring to fix upon the originals of these Patres. Although the title Ecstaticus was bestowed on Dio- nysius the Carthusian, and is also applicable to St. Anthony, it is not likely that Goethe meant to represent the individual character of either. St. Theresa, in fact, is a better personi- fication of that ekstasis, which, as here, would temporarily annihilate the material and dissolve the soul in a frenzy of devotional love.
The last four lines spoken by the Pater Ecstaticus must be given literally, for the sake of comparison : —
" That verily the void, transitory, All be dissipated (or exhaled), [And] beam the enduring star, Germ of Eternal Love 1 "
183. Pater Profundus.
We might almost say that the Pater Ecstaticus represents Devotion as manifested through temperament or exalted sen- sation ; the Pater Profundus, Devotion as it shapes the in- tellect, which perceives symbols in all things, feels the limi-
VOL. IL 20
458
FA UST.
tations of the senses, and aspires towards Divine Truth as the highest form of knowledge ; and finally, the Pater Seraphi- cus Devotion as it possesses the soul in the purest glow of self-abnegation.
The title Pater Profundus was bestowed on the English theologian, Thomas of Bradwardyne, and also on Bernard de Clairvaux, founder of the Cistercian order, two centuries before the former. It is not necessary, in either case, to seek for a parallel which we are not likely to find verified.
184. Pater Seraphicus. This name was given to St. Francis of Assisi, who is men- tioned by Dante {Paradiso, XI.), and Goethe may possibly have borne him in mind, without borrowing anything from the story of his life.
185. Chorus of Blessed Boys.
These boys, whom Goethe calls " midnight-born," are the spirits of those who died in birth, barely given to Life and then taken from it before the awakening of sense or mind. The meaning seems to be that they are still undevel- oped in the spiritual world, — in other words, that, in the scale of ascending Being, they have missed our sphere, and feel only the delight of existence {alien ist das Daseyn so gelind), without the intelligence, from which must be born the aspiration for what is still beyond and above them.
186. {He takes them into himself.)
The following passage occurs in a letter from Goethe to Wolf, author of the famous Homeric Prolegomena, in 1806 : " Why can I not at once, honored friend, on receiving your letter, sink myself for a short time in your being, like those Swedenborgian spirits who sometimes receive permission to enter into the organs of sense of their master, and through the medium of these to behold the world ? "
187. Whoe''er aspires unweariedly Is not beyond redeeming.
Eckermann writes, in June, 183 1 : " We then spoke of the
NOTES. 459
closing scene, and Goethe called my attention to the follow- ing passage " [every line is here so pregnant with important meaning that an exact rhymed translation becomes nearly impossible, and I therefore add the verse," in prose] : —
*' Rescued is the noble member Of the spirit-world from Evil : Who, ever striving [aspiring ?], exerts himself, Him can we redeem. j
And if he also participates In the Love from on high, The Blessed Host will meet him With heartiest welcome."
" In these lines," said Goethe, "the key to Faust's rescue may be found. In Faust, himself, an ever higher and purer form of activity to the end, and the eternal Love coming down to his aid from above. This is entirely in harmony with our religious ideas, according to which we are not alone saved by our own strength, but through the freely-bestowed Grace of God.
" Moreover, you will admit that the conclusion, where the redeemed soul is carried above, was very difficult to accom- plish ; and also that I might very easily have lost myself in vagueness, in such supernatural, hardly conceivable sur- roundings, if I had not given a favorably restricting form an<^ firmness to my poetic designs, through the sharp outlines of Christian-ecclesiastical figures and representations."
1 88. Eternal love, alone, Can separate them. This passage is somewhat obscure, because it attempts to express a greater bulk of meaning than the words will hold. The last eight lines are : —
When strong intellectual power
The elements
Has gathered into itself,
No angel [may or could] divide
The double nature grown into one
Of the intimate Two:
Eternal Love alone
Has power to separate it
46o FA UST.
Goethe undoubtedly meant to say that the elements of earthly knowledge and experience become, in life, so blended into one with the spiritual nature of Man, that the Angels, who bear Faust's immortal part, not yet purified from the traces of its earthly career, cannot separate the two : it must be the work of Eternal Love. The soul of Faust is now given into the hands of the Blessed Boys.
189. Doctor Marianus. Some see in this name a reference to Marianus Scotus, who died, as an eremite, in 1086. Others, again, suppose it to be the celestial name of Faust^ although the soul of the latter has not yet awakened to the change. The title " Doc- tor " impresses us singularly, after the Fatres, and we cannot help surmising some special intention in it, although the character seems to be introduced solely for the purpose of describing the approach of the Mater Gloriosa. But there is nothing said, which might not, with equal propriety, have been put into the mouth of the Pater Seraphicus.
190. The Mater Gloriosa soars into the space. It is easy to understand why, in this mystic symphony of Love, Goethe should have chosen the Virgin as a repre- sentative of the sweetest and tenderest attribute of the Deity. This variation from the Prologue in Heaven was directly prescribed by the ecclesiastical framework through which he expresses the symbolism of the scene. Some of the critics censure Goethe for applying to the Virgin the word "Goddess," because it is not used by the Catholic Church ; as if, in borrowing the form, he must necessarily accept the spirit with it ! Nevertheless, a Catholic writer, Wilhelm von Schiitz,* sees in this scene the evidence that Goethe was dissatisfied with '* the palliative poverty of the Protestant spirit," and had almost reached Cathol- |
icism at the close of his life ! On the other hand, Dr. J
* Goethe's Faust und der Protestantismus's Manuscript fur Katholiken und Freunde. Bamberg, 1844. !
NOTES. 461
Barens* illustrates almost every portion of the scene by passages from the New Testament, and Pastor Cludiust declares that " Faust is a sphinx, whose enigmas can only be solved by those who are initiated into the mysteries of Christianity." Add to these views the assertion of a French critic that Faust is " a Gospel of Pantheism," and we can appreciate the height of Goethe's mind above all sectarian or theological boundaries.
i<^. Magna Peccatrix.
I have retained the references attached to this and the two following stanzas, because I am not sure whether they were originally written by Goethe, or afterwards added by Rie- mer. Mary Magdalene and the Woman of Samaria require no comment : Mary of Egypt is described in the Acta Sanc- torum as an infamous woman of Alexandria, who, after seventeen years of vice, made a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. On approaching the door of the Church of the Holy Sepul- chre, an invisible arm thrust her away. Weeping, overcome with the sudden sense of her unworthiness, she prayed to the Virgin, and was then lifted as by hands and borne into the Temple, and a voice said to her : ** Go beyond the Jor- dan, and thou wilt find peace." She went into the Desert, where she lived alone forty-eight years, only visited by a monk who brought her the last sacrament, and for whom, when she died, she left a message written upon the sand.
These three sinful yet penitent and glorified women are made intercessors for the soul of Margaret, which has not yet been admitted to the higher spheres.
192. Una Pcenitentium. Margaret sees her full pardon in the face of the Mater Gloriosa, before it is spoken, and the prayer (First Part, Scene XVIII.) which was a despairing cry for help now
* Der zweite Theil und insbesondere lie Schlussscene der Goethe- Bchen Faust tragodie. Hannover, 1854. t Goethe's Faust as Apologie des Christenthums.
462 FAUST.
becomes a strain of unutterable joy. The Blessed Boys ap- proach, bearing the boul of Faust, already overtowering them as it grows into consciousneoS of the new being. By him, who has learned so much of Life, they shall be taught at last. Margaret, no longer an ignorant maiden, but an inspired Soul, sees the beauty and glory of the original nature of Faust, now redeemed, releasing itself from its earthly dis- guises and shining like the Holy Host. But we hear no voice : we only know that it awakens.
193. Who, feeling thee, shall follow there.
The literal translation of these two lines must be added : —
" Come, lift thyself to higher spheres ! When he has a spiritual sense of thy presence, he will follow."
The reader who knows the original need not be told how difficult it is to render the word ahnet.
194. Chorus Mysticus.
The closing lines of the wonderful drama must not be read as a complement to, or a solution of, the problem stated in the Prologue in Heaven. They seem to relate almost exclusively to the last scene, in order to connect the heavenly and the earthly spheres, by suggesting, mysteriously, the relation of the two. The translation I have given is nearly literal ; but, inasmuch as every word is important, I here make it entirely so : —
All that is transitory
Is only a symbol :
The inadequate (or insufficient)
Here becomes event ; (reality ?)
The Indescribable,
Here it is done :
The Eternal Womanly (or Feminine)
Draws us on and upward.
I can find no English equivalent for Ewigweibliche except " Woman-Soul,*' which will express very nearly the same idea to those who feel the spirit which breathes and burns
NOTES. 463
throughout the scene. Love is the all-uplifting and aJl- receeming power on Earth and in Heaven ; and to Man it id revealed in its most pure and perfect form through Woman. Thur, in the transitory life of ^Tarth, it fs only a symbol of its diviner being ; the possibilities of Love, which Earth can never fulfil, become realities in the higher life vshich follows ; the Spirit, which Woman interprets to us here, still draws us upward (as Margaret draws the soul of Faust) there.
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