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^in iSfiBiiiiiJ iijlift 

SC[IOOL OF EDUCATION 
LIBRARY 



TEXTBOOK COLLECTION 

BEQUEST OF 
PROF. JAMES O. GRIFFIN 



L 









,; J J J < I J L^ ai IS ff ajtyiii^ 

SCHOOL OF EDUCATION 
LIBRARY 



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TEXTBOOK COLLECTION 

BEQUEST OF 
PROF. JAMES O. GRIFFIN 



STANFORD N^g/ U N 1 V E R S I T r 
T JBR.ARIES 



FAUST. 






SCHOOL OF EDUCATION 
LIBRARY 



TEXTBOOK COLLECTION 

BEQUEST OF 
PROF. JAMES O. GRIFFIN 



STANFORD ^^^ U N' I \' E R S I T r 
I ]BR.AR!E,S 



FAUST. 



r 



FAUST. 

A TRAGEDY 

BY 

JOHANN WOLFGANG VON GOETHE. 

TRANSLATED, IN THE ORIGINAL METRES, 

By bayard TAYLOR. 



Sein Ohr verniiiunt den Einklang der Natur ; 
Was die Geschichte reicht, daa Leben gibt, 
Sein Bnsen nimmt es gleldi und willig auf : 
Das weit Zerstreute sammelt sein GemUth » 
Und sein Gefühl belebt das Unbelebte. 

Goethk: foM«. 



AUTHOi^IZED EDITION. 




LEIPZIG: 

F. A. B R O C K H A U S. 



I 876. 



633838 



a 



INTRODUCTION. 

Elcusin servat quod ostendat rcvisentibus. 

Seneca, Qucest, Nat. vii. 31. 

1 KNOW how much prepossession I encounter, 
in claiming for the Second Part of Faust a 
higher intellectual character, if a lower dra- 
matic and poetical value, than the First Part. 
In Mr. Hay ward's Appendix, and Mr. Lewes' 
Life of Goethe, the Second Part is virtually 
declared to be a secondary, unimportant work, 
chaotic in detail 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 
appeared have, unfortunately, not succeeded 
in presenting the work clearly and attractively 
to the English reader. Those of Bemays, 
Macdonald, and Gumey are characterized by 
knowledge of the text, but give no satisfactory 
clew to the author's design; while that of 
Dr. Anster, the most readable of all, and show- 
ing a further insight into tVve tj\^^.tv\x\^, Ss. -^u 



VI Faust, 

very loose paraphrase, rather than a trans- 
lation. 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 perplex- 
ing 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 in- 
tellectual 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 Se- 
cond 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, acquaint- 
ances have changed in the interval, even as 
ourselves. "It must be remembered," says 
Goethe, "that the First Part is the develop- 
ment of a somewhat obscure individual con- 
dition. 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 that the 
wealth of the material which he had accu- 



Introduction. vii 

mulated for the Second Part occasioned an 
embarrassment' in regard to the form, which 
pa«tly 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 comprehend 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 ego- 
tistical, because it is so exactly true. No com- 
mentary 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 accomplished, 
they have still left enough untouched to allow 
fresh discoveries to every sympathetic reader. 
There are circles within circles, forms which 
beckon and then disappear; and when we 
seem to have reached the bottom of the au- 
thor's meaning, we suspect that there is still 
something beyond. 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 true, but also with a 
multitude of pearl-oysters. Many of the crowded 

* Announcement of the Helena (quoted in note 103). Cor- 
respondence with Schiller, and Eckermaim's CoivNet?»^M\QrB&. 



vin Faust 

references are directly deducible from the alle- 
gory; still more are made clear to us through 
a knowledge of Goethe's development, 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 begin- 
ning to give way to an intelligent recognition 
of its grand design, its wealth of illustration, 
and the almost inexhaustible variety and 
beauty of its rhythmical 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 com- 
pares 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 fignres 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 marbles and com- 



Introduction, ix 

mon pebbles, of glass, jasper, and lapis-lazuli; 
but, seen in the proper perspective, exhibits 
only the Titanic struggle of Man, surrounded* 
with shapes of Beauty and Darkness, towards 
a victorious immortality. 

It would have been better, undoubtedly, if 
the completion of the work had not been so 
long delayed, and Goethe had thereby been 
able to give us, with more limited stores of 
knowledge, a greater poetic -unity. It is hardly 
the feebleness of the octogenarian which we 
perceive. The acquisitions of the foregoing 
thirty years seem 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 revealed 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, illuminating, 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 jungles, before reaching that "peak in 
Danen," from which Keats, like Balboa, be- 
held a new side of the world. While the Notes 
contain as much interpretation 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. 

We must forget the tragical slox^ oi *Ccä 



X Faust. 

First Part, and return to the compact between 
Faust and Mephistopheles, where the latter • 
declares: ^*The little world, and then the great, 
well see." The former world is at an end, 
and, after an opening scene which symbolizes 
the healing influences of Time and Nature, 
Faust and his companion appear at the Court 
of the German Emperor. The ruined condition 
of the realm gives Mephistopheles a chance 
of acquiring place and power for Faust, through 
the introduction of a new financial system. 
While this is in progress, the days of Carnival 
furnish the occasion for a Masquerade, crowded 
with allegorical figures, representing Society 
and Government. Goethe found that no de- 
tached phases of life were adequate to his 
purpose. Faust, in the First Part, is an in- 
dividual, in narrow association with other in- 
dividuals: here he is thrown into the movement 
of the world, the phenomena of human de- 
velopment, and becomes, to a certain extent, 
typical of Man. Hence the allegorical charac- 
ter of the Masquerade, which is confusing, 
from the great range and mixture of its sym- 
bolism. 

The Emperor's wish to have Paris and Helenia 
called from the Shades (as in the original Le- 
gend) is expressed when Faust is already 
growing w^eary of the artificial life of the 
Court. Mephistopheles sends him to the my- 
sterious Mothers, that he may acquire the 
means of evoking the models of Beauty; and 
at this point the artistic, or aesthetic element — 



Introduction. xi 

the sense of the Beautiful in the human mind— 
is introduced as a most important agent of 
human culture, gradually refining and purify- 
ing Faust's nature, and lifting it forever above 
all the meanness and littleness of the world. 
Mephistopheles is bound by his compact to 
serve, even in fulfilling this aspiration which 
he cannot comprehend; but he obeys unwill- 
ingly, and with continual attempts to regain 
his diminishing power. After the apparition 
of Helena, and Faust's rash attempt to possess 
at once the Ideal of the Beautiful, the scene 
changes to the latter'« 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 Me- 
phistopheles to the Classical Walpurgis-Night, 
where the former continues his pilgrimage 
towards Helena (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 Mas- 
querade. A purer strain of poetry breathes 
through it, and the magical moonlight 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 
another allegory, complete in itself, and only 
lightly attached to the course oi \.\v^ ^t^xsnä.. 



xn Faust. 

While it exhibits, in the latter connection, the 
aesthetic purification of Faust's nature, its lead- 
ing 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 gar- 
ments 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, en- 
lightened and elevated above his former self, 
and anxious 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 ele- 
ments. 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 
battle takes place; the rebels are defeated, 
through the magic arts of Mephistopheles, and 
Faust receives 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; 



Introduction. xin 

and he has not succeeded in gaining the co- 
veted possession of a sand-hill near his palace, 
the residence of an old couple who have charge 
of a little chapel on the downs. Mephisto- 
pheles endeavors to implicate him in the guilty 
seizure of his Naboth's vineyard, but is again 
bafBed. Faust, become blind, finds a clearer 
light dawning upon his spirit : while the work- 
men are employed upon the canal which com- 
pletes his great work, he perceives that he 
has created free and happy homes for the 
coming generations of men, and the fore-feel- 
ing of satisfied achievement impels him to say 
to the passing Moment: "Ah, still delay, — 
thou art so fair!" When the words are ut- 
tered, 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 spiri- 
tual guide of her redeemed lover, close the 
drama. Although the condition of the compact 
has been fulfilled, Mephistopheles loses his 
wager. In willing the Bad, he has worked 
the Good: the "obscure aspiration" in Faust's 
nature has lifted itself, through Love, Expe- 
rience, 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 
Prologue, and indicates to us, through a wond- 
rous, mystic symbolism, the victorious vitality 



xiY Faust, 

of Good and the omnipotence of the Divine 
Love. 

Briefly, then, Act I. represents Society and 
Government; 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 finan- 
cial 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 Eupho- 
rion (whom I have interpreted as different 
personifications of Goethe's own Poetic Genius), 
must be considered as digressions from the 
direct course of the plot. In order to under- 
stand how they originated, and the probable 
raisons cCetre 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 interpretation 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 



Introduction, xv 

rounded style.* This has been contemptuously 
called the "t^rivy-CounciUor's dialect" {Geheim^ 
rathssprache) 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 ä small 
perceritage of Goethe's sins against the German. 
The other difficulty seems to lie partly in the 
intellectual constitution of the critics them- 
selves, many of whom are nothing if not me- 
taphysical. The fulness 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 

* **That which first repels the reader in this second Faust- 
draxna is the philological element, which is found throughout 
the greater part of it. A dragging nmrch of the diction, 
awkwardly long and painfully complicated sentences, a mass of 
unsuccessful verbal forms and adaptations, unnecessarily obscure 
images, forced transitions, affected superlative participles and 
compounds, — all these things operate repellently enough upon 
many persons, and spoil, in advance, their enjoyment of the 
work." — Kostlin, Goethe's Faust , seine Kritiker uwd Ausleger. 



XVI Faust, 

interpretation, even if to some readers, it may 
not seem th0 most satisfactory. 

I have adhered, as those familiar with the 
original text will perceive, to the same plan 
of translation. The original metres are mof e 
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 respect, made my task more easy; and 
there are, from beginning to end, less than a 
score of lines where I have been cofnpelled 
to take any liberty with either rhythm or 
rhyme. Indeed, the form, especially in the 
Helenay is so intimately blended with the sym- 
bolical meaning, that I cannot conceive 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 in- 
troduced 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 



Introduction. xvii 

fallen short of reproducing the original in an- 
other, though a kindred language, I may at 
least, have assisted in naturalizing the master- 
piece of German literature 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 commentators, I 
would present the plea, that the laws of con- 
struction 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 con- 
ceptions of the highest. 

B. T. 



Faust. II. 



CONTENTS. 



SECOND PART OF THE TRAGEDY. 

ACT I. 

Page 

Scene I. A Pleasant Landscape 3 

II. The Emperor's Castle 7 

III. Spacious Hall (Cärnhal Masquerade) .... 18 

IV. Pleasure-Garden {Paper- Money Scheme) ... 49 
V. A Gloomy Gallery {The Mothers) 56 

VI. Brilliantly Lighted Halls 62 

VII. Hall of the Knights {Paris and Helena), . 65 

ACT IL 

Scene I. A Gothic Chamber, formerly Faust's. . . 74 

II. Laboratory {Homunculus) 83 

III. Classical Walpurgis-Night. 

I. The Pharsalian Fields 91 

II. Peneus lOI 

III. On the Upper Peneus, as before . . no 

IV. Rocky Coves of the .^gean Sea . . 129 
V. Telchines of Rhodes 138 

ACT in. 

The HELENA \V\ 



XX Contents. 

ACT IV. 

Page 

Scene I. High Mountains 207 

II. On THE Headland {^Ttie Battle) 218 

III. The Rival Emperor's Tent 234 

ACT V. 

Scene I. Open Country 246 

II. In the Little Garden 248 

III. Palace 250 

IV. Dead of Night 255 

V. Midnight {Fausfs Blindness) 258 

VI. Great Outer Court of the Palace {Faust's 

Death) 263 

VII. Mountain-Gorges, Forest, Rock, Desert . .274 

NOTES 285 



SECOND PART 



OF THE TRAGEDY. 



IN FIVE ACTS. 



Faust. II. 



ACT I. 

L 
A PLEASANT LANDSCAPE. 

TWILIGHT. 

Faust, bedded on flowery tupf, fatigued, restless, 

endeavoring to sleep. Circle of hovering spirits 

in motion: graceful, diminutive figures, 

Ariel. ' 

{Chani , accompanied by ALolian harps,) 

When the Spring returns serener 
Raining blossoms over all; 
When the fields with blessing greener 
On the earth-born children call; 
Then the craft of elves propitious 
Hastes to help where help it can: 
Be he holy, be he vicious. 
Pity they the luckless man. 

Who round this head in airy circles hover, 
Yourselves in guise of noble Elves discover! 
The fier«e convulsions of his heart compose; 
Remove the burning barbs of his remorses, 
And cleanse his being from the suffered woes! 
Four pauses makes the Night upon her courses,^ 

1* 



4 Faust, 

And now, delay not, let them kindly close! 
First on the coolest pillow let him slumber, 
Then sprinkle him with Lethe's drowsy spray! 
His limbs no more shall cramps and chills encumber, 
When sleep has made him strong to meet the day. 
Perform, ye Elves, your fairest rite: 
Restore him to the holy Light! 

Chorus 3 

{singly f by two or niore^ 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 eyelids weary 
Shuts the golden gates of Day. 

Now the Night already darkles, 
Holy star succeeds to star; 
Dazzling lights and fainter sparkles 
Glimmer near and gleam afar; 
Glimmer here, the lake reflecting. 
Gleam in cloudless dark aboon; 
While, the bliss of rest protecting. 
Reigns in pomp the perfect moon. 

Now the Hours are cancelled for thee, 
Pain and bliss have fled away: 
Thou art whole: let faith restore thee! 
Trust the new, the rising Day! 
Vales grow green, and hills are lifting 
Through the shadow-rest of mom; 
^ And in waves of silver, drifting 

On to harvest, rolls the corn. 

Wouldst thou win desires unbounded, 
Yonder see the glory burn! 



Act I. Scene /. 5 

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-bom Day appearing! 
Rocky portals jarring shatter, 
Phoebus' wheels in rolling clatter, 
With a crash the Light draws near!^ 
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. 
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 twiHght 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^ 



6 Faust, 

Where flower and leaf with trembling pearls are 

freighted: 
And all around a Paradise appeareth. 

Lookup! — The mountain summits, grand, supernal, 5 

Herald, e'en now, the solemn hour that neareth; 

They earliest enjoy the light eternal 

That later sinks, till here below we find it. 

Now to the Alpine meadows, sloping vernal, 

A newer beam descends ere we divined it. 

And step by step unto the base hath bounded: 

The sun comes forth! Alas, already blinded, 

I turn away, with eyesight pierced and wounded! 

'T is thus, when, unto yearning hope's endeavor. 

Its highest wish on sweet attainment grounded. 

The portals of fulfilment widely sever: 

But if there burst from those eternal spaces 

A flood of flame, we stand confounded ever; 

For Life's pure torch we sought the shining traces, 

And seas of fire — and what a fire! — surprise us. 

Is 't Love? Is 't Hate? that burningly embraces. 

And that with pain and joy alternate tries us? 

So that, our glances once more earthward throwing. 

We seek in youthful drapery to disguise us. 

Behind me, therefore, let the sun be glowing! 
The cataract, between the crags deep-riven, 
I thus behold with rapture ever-growing. 
From plunge to plunge in thousand streams 't is given , 
And yet a thousand, to the valleys shaded, 
While foam and spray in air are whirled and driven. 
Yet how superb, across the tumult braided. 
The painted rainbow's changeful life is bending. 
Now clearly drawn, dissolving now and faded. 
And evermore the showers of dew descending! 
Of human striving there 's no symbol fuller: 
Consider, and 't is easy comprehending — 
Life is not light, but the refracted color. ^ 



Act I. Scene II. 7 

II. 

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; 
If dead, or drunk? none knoweth that. 

Second Squire. 

As quick as thought, through all the pother. 
Him to replace there came another, 
Adorned and prinked with wondrous art, 
Yet so grotesque that all men start. 
The guards their halberds cross-wise hold 
To bar him — them he thrusts apart: 
Lo! here he comes, the Fool so bold! 

MEPfflSTOPHELES {kneeling before the throne). 

What 's cursed and welcomely expected?^ 
What is desired, yet always chased? 



8 Faust. 

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; 

Thake thou his place, come here and lend assistance t 

(Mephistopheles goes up and stations himself on the 
Emperor's left hand,) 

Murmurs of the Crowd. 9 

Another fool — for worries new! — 
Whence came he? — how did he get through? 
The old one fell — he 's walked his path. — 
He was a barrel — this, a lath! 

Emperor. 

So now, my Well-beloved and Loyal, 

Be welcome all, from near and far! 

You meet beneath a fortunate star; 

Welfare and luck are now the aspects royal. 

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. 



Act /. Scene II, 

'T ist 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 unfcldeth! 

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; 

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, tiierefore, 

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. 



I o Faust. 

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 wer# 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. 

And half the world is wasted now; 

There still are kings beyond our border. 

But none thinks it concerns him anyhow. 

Treasurer. 

Trust allies, and we soon shall rue us! 

The subsidies they promised to us — 

Like water in leaky pipes — don't come. 

Then, Sire, in all thy states extended 

To whom hath now the rule descended? 

Where'er one goes, a new lord is at home, 

And hopes to live in independence; 

He takes his course and we look on: 

Such rights we 've given to our attendants 

That all 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 — hoth laid on the shelf. 



Act I. Scene II. ii 

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: 

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 Hquor; 

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 s\iti^\\dsx^ 



1 2 Faust. 

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. — 
I know it now — what 's in his mind. — 
What then? — A project lurks behind! 

Mephistopheles. 

Where, in this world, doth not some lack appear? 
Here this, there that, — but money 's lacking here. 
True, from the floor you can't at once collect it, 
But, deepliest hidden, wisdom may detect it. 
In veins of mountains, under building-bases. 
Coined and uncoined , there 's gold in many places : 
And ask you who shall bring it to the light? 
A man endowed with Mind's and Nature's might. 

Chancellor. 

Nature and Mind — to Christians we don't speak so. 

Thence to burn Atheists we seek so, 

For such discourses very dangerous be. 

Nature is Sin, and Mind is Devil: 

Doubt they beget in shameless revel. 

Their hybrid in deformity. 

Not so with us! — Two only races 

Have in the Empire kept their places. 

And prop the throne with worthy weight. 

The Saints and Knights are they:" together 

They breast each spell of thunder-weather, 

And take for pay the Church and State. 

The vulgar minds that breed confusion 

Are met with an opposing hand: 



Act /. Scene II. 13 

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. 

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, — jet, 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 con- 
cealed 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. 



14 Faust, 

Chancellor. 

Satan has laid his golden snares, to try us; 
Such things as these are neither right nor pious. 

Lord High Steward. 

Let him but bring his gifts to Court, and share them. 
And if things were a little wrong , I 'd bear them ! 

General-in-Chief. 

The Fool is shrewd, to promise each his needs; 
Whence it may come the soldier never heeds. 

Mephistopheles. 

And should you think, perchance, I overreach you, 
Here 's the Astrologer — ask him to teach you! 
The spheres of Hour and House are in his ken:'^ 
What are the heavenly aspects? — tell us, then! 

Murmurs. 

Two rogues are they, — in league they 've grown , 

Dreamer and Fool— so near the throne! 

The song is old — and flatly sung. — 

The Fool he prompts — the Wise Man's tongue! 

Astrologer 

{speaks: mephistopheles prompts). 

The Sun himself is gold of purest ray; 
The herald, Mercur)^, 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: 



Act I, Scene II, 15 

All else, with them, is easy to attain, — 
Palaces, gardens, cheeks of rosy stain; 
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 plight, 

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 I'* 3 

Murmurs. 

It hangs like lead my feet about. — 
I 've cramp i' the arm — but that is gout. — 
I 've tickling in the greater toe. — 
Down all my back it pains me so. — 



1 6 Faust, 

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 liest, to Hell will send thee! 

MEPfflSTOPHELES. 

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, 

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; 



Act I, Scene II. 17 

It is a farce, by day to recognize, 

But mysteries are with darkness circled round. 

Emperor. 

See thou to them! What profits the Obscure? 
Whatever has value comes to daylight, sure. 
At dead of night who can the rogue betray? 
Then all the cows are black, the cats are gray. 
If pots are down there, full of heavy gold. 
Drive on thy plough and turn them from the mould ! 

Mephistopheles . 

Take hoe and spade thyself, I pray thee, — 
Thou shalt be great through peasant-toil! 
A herd of golden calves, to pay thee. 
Will loose their bodies from the soil. 
And then at once canst thou, with rapture, 
Gems for thyself and for thy mistress capture: 
Their tints and sparkles heighten the degree 
Of Beauty as of Majesty. 

Emperor. 
Then quick! at once! how 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. 
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. 

Faust. II. ^ 



1 8 Faust, 

Meanwhile, we '11 surely celebrate withal^ 
More jovially the maddening Carnival. 

[ Irumpets, Exeunt, 

Mephistopheles . 

How closely linked are Luck and Merit, 
Doth, never to these fools occur: 
Had they the Philosopher's Stone, I swear it. 
The Stone would lack the Philosopher! 



III. 

SPACIOUS HALL. 

WITH ADJOINING APARTMENTS. 

Arranged and Decorated/or the Carnival Masquerade?^ 

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; 

A fool he seems, yet he must share it, 



Act /. Scene III. 19 

And be, thereby, as sober as he can. 
They crowding come, I see already, 
Close coupling, or withdrawn unsteady, — 
The choruses, like youth from school. 
Come in or out, bring on your ranks! 
Before or after — 't is the rule — 
With all its hundred thousand pranks, 
The World is one enormous Fool! 

Garden-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. 

Eveiy sort of colored snipping 
Won its own symmetric right: 
Though your wit on each be tripping, 
In the whole you take delight 

We are fair to see and blooming, 
Garden-girls, and gay of heart; 
For the natural way of woman 
Is so near akin to art. 

Herald. 

Let us see the wealth of blossoms 
Basket-crowning heads that bear them, 



i* 



2 Faust. 

Garlanding your arms and bosoms! 
Each select, and lightly wear them. 
Haste! and bosky arbors dressing, 
Let a garden here enring us! 
V/orthy they of closer pressing, 
Hucksters and the wares they bring us. 

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! 

Fancv-Wreath. 

Gayest blossoms, like to mallows, — 
From the moss a marvel grew! 
Fashion calls to light, and hallows, 
That which Nature never knew. 

Fancy Nosegay. 

What our name is, Theophrastus ^^ 
Would not dare to say; contrast us! 



Act I. Scene III. 21 

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. 
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, bumeth. 
Who such blisses would surrender? 
Promise sweet, and yielding tender, 
They, in Flora's realm, control 
Swiftly eyes and sense and soul. 

{Under green ^ leafy arcades, the Garden-girls adorn and 
gracefully exhibit their wares.) 

Gardeners. ^° 

[Song, accompanied with theorbos.) 

Blossoms there, that sprout in quiet, 
Round your heads their charms are weaving; 
But the fruits are not deceiving. 
One may try the mellow diet. 

Sunburnt faces tempt with glowing 
Cherries, peaches, plums, your vision: 
Buy! for vain the eye's decision 
To the tongue's and palate's showing. 



2 2 Faust. 

Ripest fruit from sunniest closes 
Eat, with taste and pleasure smitten! 
Poems one may write on roses, 
But the apple must be bitten. 

Then permit that we be mated 
With your youth, so flowery-fair: 
Thus is also decorated, 
Neighbor-like, our riper ware. 

Under wreaths of flowery tether. 
As the leafy arbors suit, 
All may then be found together, 
Buds and leaves, and flower and fruit! 

{With alternating songs, accompanied with mandolines and the- 
orbos, 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, 

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. 



Act I, Scene III, 23 

Would not help thee snatch one. 
Every fool now wears his cap: 
Sweetheart, open thou thy lap! 
Still, perchance, mayst catch one! 

\Other maiden-playtnates , young and beautiful ^ Join the garden- 
\ girls: the sound of familiar gossip is heard. Fishers and bird- 
catchers f with nests , fishing-rods, limed twigs, and other imple- 
ments, 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 arid boorishly.) 

Room! Make a clearing! 
Room in your revel! 
The trees we level 
That tumble cracking: 
Where we 're appearing 
Look out for whacking. 
Our praise adjudging, 
Make clear this fable! 
Save Coarse were drudging 
Within your borders, 
Would Fine be able 
To build their orders, 
Howe'er they fretted? 
Be taught in season. 
For you 'd be freezing 
Hat we not sweated! 

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: 



24 Faust. 

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 {fauüningiy-iustfut). 

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, 
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, 



Act /. Scene IIL 25 

He sniffs the roasting, 
Suspects the fishes, 
And clears, with boasting. 
His patron's dishes. 



Drunken Man ^3 {unconsciously). 

Naught, to-day, bring melancholy! 
Since I feel so frank and free: 
Fresh delight and songs so jolly. 
And I brought them both with me! 
Thus I 'm drinking, drinking, drinking! 
Clink your glasses, clinking, clinking! 
You behind there, join the rout! 
Clink them stout, and then it 's out! 

Though my wife assailed me loudly, 
Rumpled me through thin and thick; 
And, howe'er I swaggered proudly. 
Called me "masquerading stick": 
Yet I 'm drinking, drinking, drinking! 
Clink your glasses! clinking, clinking! 
Masking sticks, another bout! 
When you 've clinked them, drink them out! 

Say not mine a silly boast is! 

I am here in clover laid: 

Trusts the host not, trusts the hostess, — 

She refusing, trusts the maid. 

Still I 'm drinking, drinking, drinking! 

Come, ye others, clinking, clinking! 

Each to each! keep up the rout! 

We, I 'm thinking, drink them out. 

How and where my fun I 'm spying. 
Let me have it as I planned! 
Let me lie where I am lying. 
For I cannot longer stand. 



26 Faust, 

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 24 — Poets of Nature, 
Courtly and Knightly Minstrels, Sentimentalists as well as En- 
thusiasts. In the crowd of competitors of all kinds, no one 
allows another to commence his declamation. One slips past with 

a few words cl 

Satirist. 

Know ye what myself, the Poet, 
Would the most rejoice and cheer? 
If I dared to sing, and utter. 
That which no one wants to hear. 

[TTie Night and Churchyard Poets excuse themselves, because 
they have just become engaged in a most interesting conversation 
with a newly-arisen vampire, and therefrom a Ttew school of 
poetry may possibly be developed. The Herald is obliged to 
accept their exaises, and meanwhile calls forth the Grecian My- 
thology, which, even in modem masks, loses neither its character 

nor its power to charm.] 



The Graces. 25 

Aglaia. 

Life we bless with graces living; 
So be graceful in your giving! 

Hegemone. 

Graceful be in your receival; 
Wish attained is sweet retrieval. 

EUPHROSYNE. 

And in days serene and spacious, 
In your thanks be chiefly gracious! 



Act /. Scene III, 27 

The PARCiE.=^^ 

Atropos. 

I, the edelst, to the spinning 
Have received the invitation; 
When the thread of Life 's beginning 
There is need of meditation. 

Finest flax I winnow featly 
That your thread be softly given; 
Draw it through my fingers neatly, 
Make it thin, and smooth, and even. 

If too wanton your endeavor. 
Grasping here of joy each token, 
Think, the thread won't stretch for ever! 
Have a care! it might be broken. 

Clotho. 

Know that, given to me for wearing, 
Lately were the shears supplied; 
Since men were not by the bearing 
Of our edelst 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! 



28 Faust. 



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 £ each restrain: 
None, from off the circle wheeling, 
Fails to fit within the skein. 

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, ^7 no one will believe us, — 
Fair, well-proportioned, friendly, young in years: 
But make acquaintance, and straightway appears 
How snake-like are such doves to wound , deceive us. 

Though they are spiteful, yet on this occasion. 
When every fool exults in all his blame, 
They also do not crave angelic fame, 
But own themselves the torments of the nation. 

Alecto. 

What good of that, for you will trust us still! — 
Each of us young and fair, a wheedling kitten. 
Hath one of you a girl with whom he 's smitten, 
We '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, — 



Act I. Scene III, 29 

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 
Contemptuous things to her was saying of her! 
Though they make up , there 's something rankles ever. 

Megära. 

That 's a mere jest! For, let them once be married, 

I go to work, and can, in every case. 

The fairest bliss by wilful whims displace. 

Man has his various moods, the hours are varied. 

And, holding the Desired that once did charm him, 
Each for the More-desired, a yearning fool, 
Leaves the best fortune, use has rendered cool: 
He flies the sun, and seeks the frost to warm him. 

Of ills for all I understand the brewing. 
And here Asmodi as my follower lead,^® 
To scatter mischief at the proper need. 
And send the human race, in pairs, to ruin. 

TiSIPHONE. 

Steel and poison 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. 



30 Faust, 

Herald. 

Do me the favor, now, to stand aside, 

For that which comes is not to you allied. 

You see a mountain pressing through the throng,^ 

The flanks with brilliant housings grandly hung, 

A head with tusks, a snaky trunc below, — 

. mystery , yet I the key will show. 

A delicate woman sits upon his neck, 

And with a wand persuades him to her beck; 

The other, throned aloft, superb to see. 

Stands in a glory, dazzling, blinding me. 

Beside him walk two dames in chains; one fearful 

And sore depressed, the other glad and cheerful. 

One longs for freedom and one feels she 's free: 

Let each declare us who she be! 

Fear. 

Smoky torches, lamps are gleaming 
Through the festaFs 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. 

Hope. 

Good my sisters, I salute you! 
Though to-day already suit you. 



Act /. Scene III, 31 

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 somewhere find the best. 

Prudence. 

Two of human foes, the greatest, 
Fear and Hope, I bind the faster, 
Thus to save you at the latest: 
Clear the way for me, their master 

I conduct the live colossus, 
Turret-crowned with weighty masses; 
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 
Ewerywhere in Man's dominions. 

Round her all is bright and glorious; 
Splendor streams on all her courses: 
Victory is she — the victorious 
Goddess of all active forces. 



32 Faust. 

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 egg we view; 
It puffs itself and cracks in two: 
A pair of twins come forth do 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! 

MURMXJRS. 

Come! the dance is yonder gay. — 
No! I would I were away. — 
FeePst thou how the phantom race 
Flits about us in this place? — 
Something whizzes past my hair. — 
Round my feet I saw it fare. — 



Act /. Scene III. 33 

None of us are injured, though. — 
But we all are frightened so. — 
Wholly spoiled is now the fun. — 
Which the vermin wanted done. 

Herald. 

Since, as Herald, I am aiding 

At your merry masquerading. 

At the gate I 'm watching, fearful 

Lest within your revels cheerful 

Something slips of evil savor; 

And I neither shrink nor waver. 

Yet, I fear, the airy spectres 

Enter, baffling all detectors, 

And from goblins that deceive you 

I 'm unable to relieve you. 

First, the dwarf became suspicious; 

Now a mightier pageant issues 

Yonder, and it is my duty 

To explain those forms of beauty: 

But the thing I comprehend not, 

How can I its meaning mention? 

Help me to its comprehension! 

Through the crowd you see it wend not? 

1.0! a four-horse chariot wondrous. 

Hither drawn, the tumult sunders; 

Yet the crowd seems not to share in 't — 

Nowhere is a crush apparent. 

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 domiDion, 
Check yourselves, as I desire you, 

Faust. U. \ 



34 Faust, 

Sweep away, when I inspire you! — 
Honor we these festal spaces! 
See, the fast increasing faces, 
Circles, full of admiration! 
Herald, come! and in thy fashion, 
Ere we take from here our glories. 
Name us, and describe and show us! 
For we 're naught but allegories, 
Therefore 't is thy place to know us. 

Herald. 

No, thy name from me is hidden, — 
Could describe thee, were I bidden. 

Boy Charioteer. 
I 

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. 

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: 

They 'd teach thee soon thy ABC. 



} 



Act /. Scene III, 35 

Boy Charioteer. 

And he, who like a splendid vision, 
Sits proudly on the chariot^s throne? 

Herald. 

He seems a king, of mien Elysian; 
Blest those, who may his favor own! 
No more has he to earn or capture; 
His glance detects where aught 's amiss. 
And to bestow his perfect rapture 
Is more than ownership and bliss. 

Boy Charioteer. 

Thou darest not at this point desist: 
Describe him fully, I insist! 

Herald. 

But undescribed is Dignity. 

The healthy, full-moon face I see. 

The ample mouth, the cheeks that fresher 

Shine out beneath his turban's pressure, 

Rich comfort in the robe he 's wearing, — 

What shall I say of such a bearing? 

He seems, as ruler, known to me. 

Boy Charioteer. 

Plutus, the God of Wealth, is he. 
He hither comes in proud attire; 
Much doth the Emperor him desire. 

Herald. 
Of thee the What and How declare 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. 



38 Faust. 

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. 

When woman fed her own hearth-flame, 

Then Avaritia was my name; 35 

Then throve the household fresh and green. 

For naught went out and much came in. 

To chest and press I gave good heed. 

And that you 'd call a vice, indeed! 

But since in later years, the fact is, 

Economy the wife won't practice, 

And, like the host of spendthrift scholars. 

Has more desires than she has dollars. 

The husband much discomfort brooks. 

For there are debts where'er he looks. 

She spends what spoil she may recover 

Upon her body, or her lover; 

In luxury eats, and to excess 

Drinks with the flirts that round her press; 

For me that raises money's prite: 

Male is my gender, Avarice! 

Leader of the Women. 

With dragons, mean may be the dragon; 
It 's all, at best, but lying stuff! 
He comes, the men to spur and egg on. 
And now they 're troublesome enough. 



Act I. Scene III. 



Crowd of Women. 



39 



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; 
5ee how each grim and grisly monster, 
Clearing the space around with speed, 
Unfolds his fourfold wings of dread I 
The dragons shake themselves in anger. 
With flaming throats, and scaly clangor; 
The place is clear, the crowd has fled. 

(Plutus descends from the chariot.) 

Herald. 

How kingly comes he from above! 
He beckons, and the dragons move; 
Then from the chariot bring the chest 
With gold, and Avarice thereon. 
See, at his feet the load they rest! 
A marvel 't is, how it was done. 

Plutus (to the Charioteer). 

Now thou hast left the onerous burden here, 
Thou *rt wholly free: away to thine own sphere! 
Here it is not! Confused and wild, to-day. 
Distorted pictures press around our way. 
Where clear thy gaze in sweet serenity, 
Owning thyself, confiding but in thee. 
Thither, where Good and Beauty are unfurled, 
To Solitude! — and there create thy world! 

Boy Charioteer. 

Thus, as an envoy, am I worthy of thee; 
Thus, as my next of kindred; do I love thee. 



40 Faust. 

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. 
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! 

[Exit, 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 t 

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! — 
AU 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?' 



Act I, Seem III, 41 

Why, in this game there come to view 
Too many counters even, for you. 
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^ 

Plutüs. 

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 ring invisible I draw. 



42 Faust. 

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 untirely 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 starveling, humor? See, 
He kneads the gold as it were dough ! 
Beneath his hands 't is soft; yet, though 
He roll and squeeze it, for his pains 
Disfigured still the stuff remains. 
He turns to the women there, and they 
All scream, and try to get away. 
With gestures of disgust and loathing: 
The ready rascal stops at nothing. 
I fear he takes delight to see 
He has offended decency. 



V 

Act I. Scene III. 43 

I dare not silently endure it: 

Give me my wand, that I may cure it! 

Plutus. 

The danger from without he does not see: 
Let him alone; his FooFs-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. 

Plutus. 

I know you well, and your illustrious Pan! 
Boldly together you 've performed your plan. 
Full well I know what every one does not. 
And clear for you, as duty bids, the spot. 
Be Fortune still her favor lending! 
The strangest things may here be bred: 
They know not whitherward they 're wending , 
Because they have not looked ahead. 3® 

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. 

Fauns. 

Fauns, pair on pair. 

Come dancing down. 

With oaken crown 

On crispy hair; 

The fine and pointed ear is seen. 



44 Faust. 

Leaf-Kke, 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 Sat)n: 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; 

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 



Act I. Scene III. 45 

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; 
Jn 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 surroimd 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. 

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. 



46 Faust. 

Then each one seeks himself to save; 
The serried ranks disperse in fright. 
The hero trembles in the fight. 
Then honor to whom the honor is due, 
And hail to him who led us to you! 

Deputation gf 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. 

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. 



Act I, See fie III, 47 

It bubbles, from the throat profound, 

Then sinks, retreating, to the ground, 

And dark the open crater shows; 

And then again it boils and glows. 

Great Pan in cheerful mood stands by. 

Rejoiced the wondrous things to spy. 

And right and left the foam-pearls fly. 

How can he in the cheat confide? 

He bends and stoops, to look inside. — 

But now, behold! his beard falls in: 

Whose is that smoothly-shaven chin? 

His hand conceals it from our sight. 

What follows is a luckless plight; 

The beard, on fire, flies back to smite 

His wreath and head and breast with flame: 

To pain is turned the merry game. 

They haste to quench the fire, but none 

The swiftly-kindling flames can shun. 

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, 



48 Faust. 

Omnipotent, direct with reason? 

The mimic woods enkindled are; 

The pointed tongues lick upward far 

To where the rafters interlace: 

A fiery doom hangs o'er the place. 

Our cup of misery overflows, 

For who shall save us no one knows. 

The ash-heap of a night shall hide, 

To-morrow, this imperial pride. 

Plutus. 

Terror is enough created; 
Now be help inaugurated! 
Smite, thou hallowed wand, and make 
Earth beneath thee peal and quake! 
Thou,' the spacious breadth of air, 
Cooling vapors breathe and bear! 
Hither speed, around us growing. 
Misty films and belts overflowing, 
And the fiery tumult tame! 
Trickle, whisper, clouds, be crisper, 
Roll in masses, softly drenching. 
Mantling everywhere, and quenching! 
Ye, the moist, the broadly brightening, 
Change to harmless summer lightning 
All this empty sport of flame! — 
When by spirits we 're molested. 
Then be Magic manifested. 



Act I, Scene IV, 49 

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. 
Sire, pardon'st thou the jugglery of flame? 

Emperor {beckoning him to rise). 

I wish more exhibitions of the same. 
A-sudden stood I in a glowing sphere; 
It almost seemed as if I Pluto were. 
There lay, like night, with little fires besprent, 
A rocky bottom. Out of many a vent, 
Whirling, a thousand savage flames ascended, 
Till in a single vault their streamers blended. 
The tongues even to the highest dome were shot, 
That ever was, and ever then was not. 
Through the far space of spiral shafts of flame 
The long processions of the people came; 
Crowding, till all the circle was o'errun, 
They did me homage, as they 've ever done. 
Some from my Court I knew: to speak with candor, 
A Prince I seemed o'er many a salamander. 

Mephistopheles. 

That art thou, Sire! Because each element 

Fully accepts thy Majesty's intent. 

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, 

Faust. II. \ 



50 Faust, 

With purple edge, for thy delightful dwfelling, 
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. 
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. 
My favor shall insure thee higher glories. 
Be ready always, when your world of day. 
As often haps, disgusts me every way! 

Lord High Steward {enters hastily). 

Highness Serene, I never dared expect 
To trumpet forth a fortune so select 
As this, supremely blessing me. 
Which I announce with joy to thee: 



Act I. See fie IV. 51 

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 {7vho comes forward slffivly). 

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. 

{He reads.) 

"To all to whom this cometh, be it known: 
A thousand crowns in worth this note doth own. 
It to seciu-e, 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? 



5 2 Faust, 

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, alive, enjoying life, are straying! 
Although thy name long since the world made glad, 
Such currency as now it never had. 
No longer needs the alphabet thy nation. 
For in this sign each findeth his salvation. 

Emperor. 

And with my people does it pass for gold? 

For pay in court and camp, the notes they hold? 

Then I must yield, although the thing 's amazing. 

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. 



Act I, Scene IV, 53 

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 äs 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. 
^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! 



54 Faust, 

The soil intrusted to your keeping, shall you 
The best custodians be, to guard its value. 
You know the hoards, well-kept, of all the land. 
And when men dig, 't is you must give command. 
Unite then now, ye masters of our treasure, 
This, your new dignity, to wear with pleasure. 
And bring the Upper World, erewhile asunder, 
In happiest conjunction with the Under! 

Treasurer. 

No further strife shall shake our joint position: 
I like to have as partner the magician. 

\Exit with Faust, 

Emperor. 

Man after man, the Court will I endow: 

Let each confess for what he '11 spend, and how! 

Page {recewing), 

I '11 lead a jolly life, enjoy good cheer. 

A Second {the same). 
I '11 buy at once some trinkets for my dear. 

Chamberlain {acceptmg). 
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. 

I hoped the gifts to bolder deeds would beckon; 
But he who knows you, knows whereon to reckon. 



Act /. SceTte IV, 5 5 

I see that, spite of all this treasure-burst, 
You stay exactly as you were at first. 

Fool {approaching). 

You scatter favors: grant me also some! 

Emperor. 
Thou 'rt come to life? 'T would go at once for rum. 

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? How unexpected! 

Mephistopheles . 
Two-legged wine-skin, art thou resurrected? 

Fool. 
Much luck I 've had, but like this never yet. 

Mephistopheles. 
.Thou 'rt so rejoiced, it puts thee in a sweat. 

Fool. 
But look at this, is 't money's-worth, indeed? 

Mephistopheles. 
'T will bring thee what thy throat and belly need. 



56 Fattst, 

Fool. 
And cattle can 1 buy, and house and land? 

Mephistopheles. 
Of course! just make an offer once, off-hand? 

Fool. 
Castle and wood, and chase, and fishing? 

Mephistopheles. 

AUr 
I 'd like upon Your Worship then to call. 

Fool. 

To-night as landed owner I shall sit. 

{Exit, 

Mephistopheles {solus). 

Who now will doubt that this our Fool has wit? 



V. 

A GLOOMY GALLERY. 

Faust. Mephistopheles. 

Mephistopheles. 

What 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. 



Act /. Scene V. 57 

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: 
We 've made him rich; 't is now expected 
That we amuse his idle hours. 

Mephistopheles. 

Thou deem'st the thing is quickly fixed: 

Here before steeper ways we 're standing; 

With strangest spheres wouldst thou be mixed. 

And, sinful, addest new debts to the old, — 

Think'st Helen will respond to thy commanding 

As freely as the paper-ghosts of gold! 

With witches'-riches and with spectre-pictures, 

And changeling-dwarfs, I '11 give no cause for strictures; 

But DeviPs-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. 



58 Faust, 

Mephistopheles. 

I \'e no concern with the old heathen race; 
They house within their special Hades. ^3 
Yet there 's a way. 

Faust. 
Speak, nor delay thy history! 

Mephistopheles . 

Unwilling, I reveal a loftier mystery. — 

In solitude are throned the Goddesses, 

No Space around them, Place and Time still less; 

Only to speak of them embarrasses. 

They are The Mothers 1^4 

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; 



Act I, Scene V. 59 

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; 
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 '11 explore, whatever befall; 
In this, thy Nothing, may I find my All! 



6o Faust. 

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! 

Faust. 
It glows, it shines, — increases in my hand! 

Mephistopheles. 

How much 't is worth, thou soon shalt understand." 
The Key will scent the true place from all others: 
Follow it down! — 't will lead thee to the Mothers. 

Faust {shuddering). 

The Mothers! Like a blow it strikes me still! 
What is the word, to hear which makes me chill? 

Mephistopheles. 

Art thou so weak, disturbed by each new word? 
Wilt only hear what thou 'st already heard? 
To wondrous things art thou so used already, 
Let naught, howe'er it sound, make thee unsteady! 

Faust. 

Nathless in torpor lies no good for me; 
The chill of dread is Man's best quality. 
Though from the feeling oft the world may fend us, 
Deeply we feel, once smitten, the Tremendous. 

Mephistopheles. 

Descend, then! I could also say: Ascend! 

'T were all the same. Escape from the Created 



Act /. Scene V, 6e 

To shapeless forms in liberated spaces ! 
Enjoy what long ere this was dissipated! 
There whirls the press, like clouds on clouds un- 
folding; 
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! 

Mephistopheles. 

At last a blazing tripod tells thee this, 

That there the utterly deepest bottom is. 

Its light to thee will then the Mothers show, 

Some in their seats, the others stand or go. 

At their own will: Formation, Transformation, 

The Eternal Mind's eternal recreation. 

Forms of all creatures, — there are floating free. 

They 'U see thee not; for only wraiths they see. 

So pluck up heart, — the danger then is great, — 

Go to the tripod ere thou hesitate. 

And touch it with the key! 

(Faust , with the key , assumes a decidedly commanding attitude, 
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? 



62 Faust, 

Mephistopheles. 

Downward thy being strain! 
Stamp and descend, stamping thou 'It rise again, 

(Faust stamps , and sinks out of sight.) 

If only, by the key, he something learn! 
I *m curious to see if he return. 



VI. 
BRILLIANTLY LIGHTED HALLS. 

Emperor and Princes. The Court in Movement. 

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 lift, the Beautiful, 

Requires the highest Art, the sage's Magic. 

Lord High Steward. 

What arts you need, is all the same to me; 
The Emperor wills that you should ready be. 

A Blonde {to Mephistopheles). 

One word. Sir! Here you see a visage fair, — 
In sorry summer I another wear! 



Act /. Scene VI, 63 

There sprout a hundred brown and reddish freckles ^ 
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 I 
Take frog-spawn , tongues of toads , which cohobate ^ 
Under the full moon defdy 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 I 
I beg a remedy; a frozen foot 
Annoys me much, in walking as in dancing: 
And awkwardly 1 manage to salute. 

MEPfflSTOPHELES. 

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 limb its hurt can palliate; 
Come near! Take heed! and, pray you, don't 

retaliate t 

The Brunette {screamiug). 

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. 



64 Faust. 

» 

Lady {pressing forwards) . 

Make room for me! Too great is my affliction, 
My tortures worse than those described in fiction: 
His bliss, till yesterday, was in my glances, 
But now he turns his back, and spins with her 

romances! 

Mephistopheles. 

The matter 's grave, but listen unto me! 

Draw near to him with gentle, soft advances; 

Then take this coal and mark him stealthily 

On mantle, shoulder, sleeve, — though ne'er so slight, 

Yet penitent at once his heart will be. 

The coal thereafter you must straightway swallow. 

And let no sip of wine or water follow: 

He '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! 

I '11 help mysetf, at last, with naked truth — 



4c t I, Scene VII. 65 

The worst device! — so great my misery. 

Mothers! Mothers! let but Faust go free! 

{Gazifjg 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 amor gleams from every nook and niche. 
Here, I should think, there needs no magic word: 
The ghosts will come, and of their own accord. 



VII. 

HALL OF THE KNIGHTS, DIMLY 

LIGHTED. 

(The Emperor and Court have entered») 

Herald. ^7 

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 their faces! 

Trumpets. 
Faust. II. ^ 



66 Faust. 



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: 
By mystic light are we illuminated. 
And I ascend to the proscenium. 

Mephistopheles 

{rising to vieiv in the prompte t^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 th^ stars that lead; 
Thou wilt my whispers like a master heed. 

Astrologer. 

By power miraculous, we here behold 

A massive temple of the days of old. 

Like Atlas, who erewhile the heavens upbore, 

The serried columns stand, an ample store: 

Well may they for the weight of stone suffice, 

Since two might bear a mighty edifice. 

Architect. ^^ 

That the antique? As fine it can't be rated; 
I 'd sooner style it awkward, over-weighted. 
Coarse is called noble, and unwieldy, grand: 
Give me the slender shafts that soar, expand! 
To lift the mind, a pointed arch may boast; 
Such architecture edifies us most. 

Astrologer. 

Receive with reverence the star-granted hours; 
Let magic words bind Reason's restless powers, 



Act /. See fie VII. 67 

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. 

(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. 
Whatever once was, there burns and brightens free 
In splendor — for 't would fain eternal be;^9 
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, a\)i^e^x^. 



68 Faust. 

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! 

Knight. 
You 'd find his lap, perchance, a pleasant place? 

Another. 
He lifts his arm so lightly o'er his head. 

Chamberlain. 
'T is not allowed: how thoroughly ill-bred! 



Act I. Scene VII. 69 

Lady. 
You lords find fault with all things evermore. 

Chamberlain. 
To stretch and yawn before the Emperor! 

Lady. 
He only acts: he thinks he 's quite alone. 

Chamberlain. 
Even the play should be politely shown. 

Lady. 
Now sleep falls on the graceful youth so sweetly. 

Chamberlain. 
Now will he snore: 't is natural, completely! 

Young Lady. 

Mixed with the incense-steam, what odor precious 
Steals to my bosom, and my heart refreshes? 

Older Lady. 

Forsooth, it penetrates and warms the feeling! 
It comes from him. 

Oldest Lady. 

His flower of youth, unsealing. 
It is: Youth's fine ambrosia, ripe, unfading, 
The atmosphere around his form pervading. 

{Helena comes forward.) 

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. 



70 Faust. 

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 pjiesthood, 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. 

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! 



Act /. Scetie VII, 71 

Poet. 
Her beauty's light is on him like a dawn. 

Lady. 
Endymion and Luna — as they 're drawn I 

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 a^v^ay, light-footed: he awakes. 

Lady. x. 
Just as I thought! Another look she takes. 

Courtier. 
He stares: what haps, to him a marvel is. 

I^ady. 
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. 



7 2 Faust, 

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. 

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. 

Astrologer. 

No more a boy! A bold, heroic form. 
He clasps her, who can scarce resist the storm. 
With arm grown strong he lifts her high and free: 
Means he to bear her off? 



Act I. See fie VII. 73 

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 of Helena. '^^ 

Faust. 

What! Rape? Am I for nothing here? To stead me, 

Is not this key still shining in my hand? 

Through realms of terror, wastes , and waves it led me. 

Through solitudes, to where I firmly stand. 

Here foothold is! Realities here centre! 

The strife with spirits here the mind may venture, 

And on its grand,* its double lordship enter! 

How far she was, and nearer, how divine! 

I '11 rescue her, and make her doubly mine. 

Ye Mothers! Mothers 1 crown this wild endeavor! 

Who knows her once must hold her, and forever! 

Astrologer. 

What art thou doing, Faust? O, look at him! 

He seizes her: the form is growing dim. 

He thurns the key against the youth, and, lo! 

It touches him — Woe's me! Away now! Woe on woe! 

{Explosion. Faust 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. 



ACT II. 
I. 

A HIGH -ARCHED, NARROW, GOTHIC 
CHAMBER, FORMERLY FAUST'S, 

UNCHANGED. 

Mephistopheles 

{coming forth from behind a curtain. 53. UTiiU he holds if up 
a7id looks behind him, Faust is seen lying stretched out upon 

an antiquated bed). 

Lie 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, 

I'he 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 IL Scene I. 75 

Half from its hook tlie old fur-robe is fallings, 

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! 

(ffe shakes the fur which fu has taken dcnvu : vioths , crickets , 

and beetles fly out.) 

Chorus of Insects. 

Welcome, and hail to thee! 
Patron, to-day: 
We 're flying and humming, 
We hear and obey. 
Singly and silently 
Us thou hast sown; 
Hither, by thousands, 
Father, we 've flown. 
The imp in the bosom 
Is snugly concealed; 
But lice in the fur-coat 
Are sooner revealed. 

Mephistopheles. 

What glad surprise I feel , from this young life bestowed! 
One reaps in time, if one has only sowed. 
Once more I '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. 
Here, in the smoky parchment scrolls, 
In dusty jars, that broken lie, 
And yonder skull with empty eye. 



7 6 Faust. 

In all this trash and mould unmatched, 
Crotchets forever must be hatched. 54 

{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 shrilly penetrating sounds 
causing the halls to tremble and the doors to fly open.) 

Famulus 

{tottering hither doavn 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). 

Come hither. Friend! Your name is Nicodemus. 

Famulus. 
Most honored Sir, such is my name — Oremus! 

Mephlstopheles. 
Dispense with that! 

Famulus. 
O joy I you know me yet. 



Act IL Scene I. 77 

Mephistopheles . 

Old, and a student still, — I don't forget. 

Most mossy Sir! Also a learned man 

Continues study, since naught else he can. 

'T is thus one builds a moderate house of cards; 

The greatest minds ne'er end them, afterwards. 

Your master is a skilful fellow, though: 

The noble Doctor Wagner all must know. 

The first in all the learned world is he. 

Who now together holds it potently, 

Wisdom increasing, daily making clearer. 

How thirst for knowledge listener and hearer! 

A mighty crowd around him flocks. 

None for the rostrum e'er were meeter: 

The keys he holds as doth Saint Peter, 

The Under and the Upper he unlocks. 

His light above all others sparkles surer, 

No name or fame beside him lives: 

Even that of Faust has grown obscurer; 

'T is he alone invents and gives. 

Famulus. 

Pardon, most honored Sir! if I am daring 

To contradict you, in declaring 

All that upon the subject has no bearing; 

For modesty is his allotted part. 

The incomprehensible disappearing 

Of that great man to him is most uncheering; * 

From his return he hopes new strength and joy of heart. 

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. 



78 Faust. 

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 hhnself with 

graroity.) 

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. 

BaCCALAUREUS 55 {stonning along the corridor). 

Doors and entrances are open! 

Well, — at last there 's ground for hoping 

That no more, in mouldy lumber, 

Death-like, doth the Living slumber, 

To himself privations giving, 

Till he dies of very living! 

All this masonry, I 'm thinking. 
To its overthrow is sinking; 
And, unless at once we hurry. 
Us will crash and ruin bury. 



Act II. Scene I. 79 

Daring though I be, 't were murther 
Should I dare to venture further. 

What is that I see before me? 

Here , (what years have since rolled o'er me !) 

Shy and unsophisticated, 

I as honest freshman waited: 

Here I let the gray-beards guide me, 

Here their babble edified me! 

Out of dry old volumes preaching, 
What they knew, they lied in teaching; 
What they knew, themselves believed not, 
Stealing life, that years retrieved not. 
What! — in yonder cell benighted 
One still sits, obscurely lighted! 

Nearer now, I see, 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: 
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, 
Outgro^vn 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. 



8o Faust. 

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! 5^ 

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. 

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! 



Act II. Scene I 8i 

■ 

MephISTOPHELES {after a pause). 

It 's long seemed so to me. I was a fool: 
My shallownes 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! 

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 

spectators). 

Up here am I deprived of light and air: 
Shall I find shelter down among you there? 

Baccalaureus. 

It is presumptuous, that one will try 

Still to be something, when the time 's gone by. 

Man's life lives in his blood, and where, in sooth, 

So stirs the blood as in the veins of youth? 

There living blood in freshest power pulsates. 

And newer life from its own life creates. 

Then something 's done, then moves and works 

the man; 
The weak fall out, the sturdy take the van, 

Faust. U. ^ 



82 Faust. 

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 wand and dread; 
When one has passed his thirtieth year. 
One then is just the same as dead. 57 
'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. 

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 flowet 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! 



Act IL Scene II. 83 

Who can think wise or stupid things at all, 
That were not thought already in the Past? 5^ 
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! 



II. 

LABORATORY. 

After the manner of the Middle Ages; extensive, 
ponderous 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 phiaFs inmost chamber 
It gleams, as doth a living ember, — 
Yea, a carbuncle, burning, brightening, 
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. 



84 Faust. 

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). 

What is it, then? 

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. 

But Man must learn, with his great gifts, to win 

Henceforth a purer, loftier origin. 

( Turning towards the furnace.) 

It brightens, — see! Sure, now, my hopes increase 
That if, from many hundred substances. 
Through mixture — since on mixture all depends — 
The human substance gently be compounded. 
And by a closed retort surrounded. 
Distilled, and fed, and slowly founded, 
Then in success the secret labor ends. 

{Again turning to%vards the furnace.) 



Act IL Scene II. 85 

'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. 

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 7nust arrive at being! 

And now in delicate shape is shown 

A pretty manikin, moving, living, seeing! 

What more can we, what more the world demand? 

The secret, solved, all men may reach: 

Hark! as the ringing tones expand. 

They form a voice, result in speech. 

HOMUNCULUS 59 
{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. 




86 Faust. 

{To Mephistopheles.) 

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; 
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 {pomting to a side-door). 

Thy talents here employ! 

Wagner {still gazing at the phial). 

Forsooth, thou art the very loveliest boy! 

{The side-door opetts: Faust is seen stretcJied out npon a coierh.) 

HOMUNCULUS {astonished). 

Significant ! — 

{The phial slips out of Wagner's liands, hovej-s over Faust, 

and shines upon him.) 

Fair scenery !^° — Waters, moving 
In forest shadows: women there, undressing. 



Act IL Scene IL 87 

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 aroujtd.) 

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, 
Such was his dream of presage fair: 
How should these dark surroundings suit his 
Desires, when them / scarce can bear? 
Away with him! 



88 Faust, 

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; 

Whatever may come, it is the best event, - 

So bring him to his proper element! 

Mephistopheles . 
The like of that I never heard one mention. 

HOMUNCULUS. 

How should it have attracted your attention? 
Only romantic ghosts are known to you; 
A genuine phantom must be classic too. 

Mephistopheles. 

But whitherward shall then we travel, tell me! 
Your antique cronies in advance repel me. 

HOMUNCULUS. 

Northwestwards, Satan, is thy park and pale, 
But we, this time, southeastwards sail. 
Peneus, there, the great plain wanders through. 
By thickets, groves, and silent coves, and meadow 

grasses; 
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; 



Act II. Scene II. 89 

And no one marks that he 's the puppet blind 
Of sly Asinodi, lurking there behind. 
They fight, we 're told, their freedom's right to save; 
But, clearlier seen, 't is slave that fights with slave. ^* 

HOMUNCULUS. 

Leave unto men their fractiousness and clatter: 
Each must protect himself, as best he can. 
From boyhood up, and thus becomes a man. 
How this one shall recover, is our matter. 
Hast thou a method, let it tested be! 
But hast thou none, so leave the case to me! 

Mephistopheles . 

There \ many a Brocken-method I might try, 
But pagan bolts, I find, the way deny. 
The Grecian race was little worth, alway; 
It dazzles with the senses' freer play. 
To cheerful sins the heart of man entices; 
AVhile ours are ever counted gloomy vices. 
Now, what shall be? 

HOMUNCUI^US. 

Shyness was ne'er thy blame. 
When I to thee Thessaliari witches name, 
I 've not said nothing, that I know. 

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, 



90 Faust. 

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! 
Meanwhile, about the world at random flitting, 
I may detect the dot upon the <<I."62 
The lofty aim will then accomplished be; 
Such an endeavor merits such requital: 
Gold, honor, glory, healthy forces vital. 
And science, too, and virtue, — possibly. 
Farewell ! 

Wagner {sorrowfully)'. 

Farewell! It doth depress my heart: 
I fear, already, we forever part. 

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. ^3 



Act II. Scene III. 91 

III. 
CLASSICAL WALPURGIS-NIGHT. 64 

I. 

THE PHARSALIAN FIELDS. 

Darkness. 

Erichtho. 

To this night's awful festival, as oft before, 
I enter here, Erichtho, I, the gloomy one: 
Not so atrocious as the evil poets draw, 
In most superfluous slander — for they never cease 
Their blame or praises . . . Over-whitened I behold 
The vale, with waves of tents that glimmer gray afar. 
The after-vision of that fatal, fearful night. 
How oft is it repeated! — will forever be 
Forever re-enacted! No one grants the realm 
Unto another: unto him whose might achieved 
And rules it, none: for each, incompetent to rule 
His own internal self, is all too fain to sway 
His neighbor's will, even as his haughty mind inclines. 
But here a lesson grand was battled to the end. 
How force resists and grapples with the greater force. 
The lovely, thousand -blossomed wreath of Free- 
dom 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. 
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, 



9 2 Faust, 

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. 

[Exiu 

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. 

Mephistopheles. 

Through the air she saw us gliding, 
And it seems she is afraid. 

HOMUNCULUS. 

Let her stride! The knight be taken 
Now, and set upon the strand: 



Act IL Scene III. 93 

Here to life again he '11 waken, 
Seeking it in fable-land. 

Faust {as he touches the earth). 

Where is she? — 

HOMUNCULUS. 

It 's more than we can tell, 
But to inquire would here be well. 
Thou 'rt free to hasten, ere the day. 
From flame to flame, and seek her so: 
Who to the Mothers found his way, 
Has nothing more to undergo. 

Mephistopheles . 

I also claim my share in the excursion; 
Yet know no better plan for our diversion. 
Than that each one, amid these fires, 
Should seek such fortunes as he most desires. 
Then, as a sign to reunite us. 
Let, little one, thy lantern sound and light us! 

HOMUNCULUS. 

Thus shall it shine, and thus shall ring! 

{The glass shines and rings pcrwerfully .) 

And now, away to many a marvellous thing! 

FaXJST {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 feeling. 
Together here I find the strangest store; 
Let me this labyrinth of flames explore. 

\Goes away, 



94 Faust. 

MepHISTOPHELES {prying around). 

And as among these fires I wander, aimless, 
I find myself so strange, so disconcerted:^ 
Quite naked most, a few are only shirted; 
The Griffins insolent, the Sphinxes shameless, 
And what not all, with pinions and with tresses. 
Before, behind, upon one's eyesight presses! — 
Indecency, 't is true, is our ideal, 
But the Antique is too alive and real; 
One must with modern thought the thing bemaster. 
And in the fashion variously o'erplaster: — 
Disgusting race! Yet I, perforce, must meet them, 
And as new guest with due decorum greet them. — 
Hail, then. Fair Ladies! Graybeards wise, good cheer! 

Griffin [snarling). 

Not graybeards ! Graybeards ? No one likes to hear 
One call him gray. For in each word there rings 
The source, wherefrom its derivation springs. ^^ 
Gray, growling, grewsome, grinning, graves, and 

grimly, 
Etymologically accord, nor dimly. 
And make us grim. 

MepHISTOPHELES. 

And yet, why need you stiffen? 
You like the grif in your proud title, "Griffin." 

Griffin. 

{as above, attd 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: 



Act II. Scene II L 95 

The Arimaspean race our store detected, — 
They 're laughing now, so far away they 've 

snapped it. 

The Griffins. 
We soon shall force them to confess. 

The Arimaspeans.^^ 

But not in this free night of jubilee. 
Before the morrow, all will squandered be; 
This time our efforts will obtain success. 

Mephistopheles 

{who has seated himself between the Sphinxes). 

How soon I feel familiar here, among you! 
I understand you, one and all. 

Sphinx. 

Our spirit-tones, when we have sung you. 

Become, for you, material. 

Now name thyself, till we shall know thee better. 

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? 



96 Faust, 

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.^^ 
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." 

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. 



\ 



Act II. Scene III 97 

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? 

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. 
Yavst. JL ' n 



98 Faust, 

Mephistopheles. 

These are of novelties the neatest, 

Where from the throat and harp-string sweetest 

The tones around each other twine. 

They 're lost on me, these tinkling trickles; 

The sound my ear-drum pats and tickles, 

But cannot reach this heart of mine. 

Sphinxes. 

Speak not of heart! Fool, so to call it! 
An old and wrinkled leathern wallet 
Would better suit that face of thine. 

Faust {approaching). 

How strange! I, satisfied, behold these creatures, — 

In the Repulsive, grand and solid features :7^ 

A fate propitious I behold advance. 

Whither transports me now this solemn glance? 

{Pointing to the Sphinxes.) 

Once before these took CEdipus his stand: 

{^Pointing to the Sirens.) 

These made Ulysses writhe in hempen band: 

{Pointing to the Ants.) 

By these the highest treasure was amassed: 

{Pointing to the Griffins.) 

By these 't was held inviolate and fast: 

Fresh spirit fills me, face to face with these — 

Grand are the Forms, and grand the Memories! 

Mephistopheles. 

Once thou hadst cursed such crude antiques. 
But now, it seems, they 've comfort given; 
For when a man his sweetheart seeks. 
Welcome to him are monsters, even. 



Act II, Scene III, 99 

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: 

Yet ask of Chiron, if thou please. 

He gallops round throughout this ghostly night. 

And if he halt for thee, thy chance is bright. 

Sirens. 

Thou art not to failure fated! 
How Ulysses, lingering, learned us, 
Nor, regardless passing, spumed, 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-temperedfy). 

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, 



loo Faust. 

With goose's foot and vulture's beak. 
They fain would join us in our places, 
And show themselves as kindred races. 

MephISTOPHELES {as if intimidated). 

Some other brute is hissing shrill. 

Sphinx. 

Be not afraid, though harsh the psean! 

They are the hydra-heads, the old Lernsean, 

Cut from the trunk, yet think they 're something still. 

But say, what means your air distressed? 

Why show your gestures such unrest? 

Where will you go? Then take your leave! 

Thgjt chorus, there, I now perceive, 

Turns like a weathercock your neck. Advance! — 

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 fairT 

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. 



Act IL Scene III. joi 

U. 

PENEUS 
{surrounded with 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 
0*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. 

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! 



102 Faust, 

Are they but dreams? or memories, merely? 

Already once was I so blest. 

Beneath the swaying bushes hiding, 

The full, fresh waves are softly gliding; 

They scarcely rustle on their path : 

A hundred founts from all sides hasten. 

To fill a pure and sparkling basin, 

The hollowed level of a bath. 

The fair young limbs of women trouble 

The watery glass that makes them double. 

And doubles, thus, the eye's delight: 

In joyous bath each other aiding, 

Or boldly swimming, shyly wading, 

Then cry, and splash, and foamy fight. 

It were enough, the picture viewing, — 

My healthy eyesight here renewing, — 

Yet I desire the still unseen. 

My gaze would pierce through 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; 
With his whitest plumage showing 
Wave-like on the wave he 's throwing, 
Speeds he to the sacred place — 
The others back and forth together 
Swim on with smoothly shining feather. 
And soon, in mimic battle met. 
Shall chase aside the maids affrighted. 
Till, for their own protection slighted. 
Their I)ounden service they forget. 



A:t IL Scene III. 103 

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, hak! I 've something for thy hearing. 

Chiron. 73 
What then? What is it? 

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. 



104 Faust, 

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 spisak of these! 
As Mentor even Pallas is not venerated; 
And, after ^11, 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; 
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. 



Act II. Sc €716 III, 105 

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 
Through shoreward breakers steered the sacred bark. 
Danger is best endured where men are brothers; 
When one achieves, then praise him all the others. 

Faust. 
But Hercules thy speech is wronging — 

Chiron. 

Ah , me ! awaken not my longing ! . . . 
I had not seen, in Fields Elysian, 
How Phoebus, Ares, 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, ^4 
Or Hebe led to Heaven again; 



104 Faust, 

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 9,11, 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; 
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. 



Act II, Scene III 105 

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, dehght 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 
Through shoreward breakers steered the sacred bark. 
Danger is best endured where men are brothers; 
When one achieves, then praise him all the others. 

Faust. 
But Hercules thy speech is wronging — 

Chiron. 

Ah, me! awaken not my longing!... 
I had not seen, in Fields Elysian, 
How Phoebus, Ares, 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, ^4 
Or Hebe led to Heaven again; 



io6 Faust. 

For him the songs are vainly chanted, 
The marble hewn for him in vain. 

FaUvSt. 

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 smileth 

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? 



Act II, Scene III 107 

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! 

Faust. 
But seven years old ! — 

Chiron. 

Philologists, I see, 
Even as they cheat themselves, have cheated thee. 
'T is curious with your mythologic dame: 75 
The Poet takes her when he needs her name; 
She grows not old, stays ever young and warm, 
And of the most enticing form; 
Seduced in youth, in age enamoring still, — 
Enough! no time can bind the Poet's will. 

Faust. 

Then let no bonds of Time be thrown around her! 
Even as on Pherae'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! 



io8 Faust. 

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. 
The brains of doctors he at last enlighten. 
And them from rashly dealing death may irighten. 
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 (juick 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! 



Act IL Scene IIL 109 

Manto7^ {dreajning 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! 

ManTO (awakitig). 

Welcome! Thou dost not fail, I see. 

Chiron. 
And still thy temple stands for thee! 

' Manto. 
And speedest thou still unremitting? 

Chiron. 

And thou in peaceful calm art sitting, 
While I rejoice in restless heels? 

Manto. 

I wait, and Time around me wheels. 
And he? 

Chiron. ' 

The vortex of this night 
Hath whirled him hither to thy sight. 
Helen, with mad, distracted senses, 
Helen he 'd win by all pretences, 
And knows not how or where the task commences; 
But he deserves the Esculapian cure. 

Manto. 

To whom the Impossible is lure 
I love. 

(Chiron is already far aivay.) 
Rash one, advance! there 's joy for thee! 



112 Faust. 

Seismos. 

The work alone I 've undertaken; 

The credit will be given to me: 

Had I not jolted, shoved, and shaken, 

How should this world so beauteous be? 

How stood aloft your mountains ever , 

In pure and splendid blue of air, 

Had I not heaved with huge endeavor 

Till they, like pictures, charm you there? 

When, where ancestral memory brightens. 

Old Night and Chaos saw me sore betrayed. 

And in the company of Titans 

With Pelion and Ossa as with balls we played. 

None could in ardent sport of youth surpass us, 

Until, outwearied, at the last, 

Even as a double cap, upon Parnassus 

His summits wickedly we cast. 

Apollo, now, upon that mount of wonder 

Finds with the Muses his retreat: 

For even Jove, and for his bolts of thunder, 

I heaved and held the lofty seat. 

Thus have 1 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 overtaken: 
We shall not let our sacred seats be shaken. 

Griffins. ^° 

Gold in spangle, leaf, and spark 
Glimmers through the fissures dark. 



Act IL Scene I IL 113 

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, phant 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; 

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 

Faust. IL % 



114 Faust. 

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 I 
Emmets, laborious. 
Working victorious. 
Scorning to settle. 
Furnish us metal! 
Dactyls , your host , 
Smallest and most, 
Hear the requiring. 
Bring wood for firing 1 
Heap in the chambers 
Fuel, untiring: 
Furnish us embers! 

Generalissimo. 

With arrow and bow. 
Encounter the foe! 
By yonder tanks 
The heron-ranks, 



Act IL Scene I IL 115 

The countless-nested, 
The haughty-breasted, 
At one quick blow 
Shoot, and bring low I 
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, — 

Yonder fat-paunched , bow-legged knaves! 

Comrades of our files of motion. 

Serried wanderers of ocean. 

You we summon to recjuital 

In a cause to you so vital. 

Strength and blood let no one spare! 

Endless hate to them we swear! 

{They disperse^ rroakuif; in the air.) 
MePHISTOPHELES {ptt the plain). 

With ease the Noithern witches I controlled, 
But o'er these foreign sprites no power 1 hold. 



1 1 6 Faust. 

The Blocksberg is a most convenient place; 
However one strays, one can his 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^. ^^ 

(draiving Mephistopheles afie?' them). 

Quicker and quicker! 
And further take him! 
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 {stamHfi^s; stiil). 

Accursed fate! Deceived, as oft! 
Since Adam's time seduced and scoffed! 



Act IL Scene III. 1 1 7 

Though old we grow, not wisely schooled: 

Enough already I 've been fooled! 

We know, how wholly worthless is the race, 

With body corseted and painted face; 

Of health responsive own they not a tittle, 

Where'er one grasps them, every limb is brittle. 

The thing is known, and patent to our glances. 

And yet, whene'er the trollops pipe, one dances. 

LaML*: {paus in f^). 

Halt! he reflects; his steps delay: 

Turn back to meet him, lest he get away! 

MePHISTOPH ELES {striäutiT 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! 

LAMLi-v (ö'tVT i^racioush'). 

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. 

KmPUSA {pressing forimrds). 

Not me, too? I 'm also fitted 
In your train to be admitted! 

Lamia:. 

She 's one too many; for, in short, 
She always ruins all our sport. 



ii8 Faust, 

Empusa {to Mephistopheles). 

Empsua, with the ass's foot, ^4 
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. 

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. 

Lami^. 

Leave her, the Ugly! She doth scare 
Whatever lovely seems and fair; 
Whate'er was lovely, fair to see. 
When she comes, ceases so to be. 

Mephistopheles. 

These cousins also, — soft, delicious. 
Are one and all to me suspicious: 
I fear, beneath their cheeks of roses 
Some metamorphosis reposes. 

Lami^e. 

But try — take hold! For we are many. 
And if thou hast a lucky penny, 



Act IL Scene III. 119 

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. . . . 

{Claspifti^ her.) 

O, what a broomstick, unexpected! 

(GrasJ^iHg another.) 

And this one ? . . . Vilest countenance ! 

Lamt^:. 
Think not thou 'rt worth a better chance! 

MePHISTOI'HELES. 

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 I 

Now scatter widely, hovering, feigning. 
In lightning-like, dark flight enchaining 
The interloping witch's-son! 
Uncertain circles, awful, poiseless! 



I20 Faust, 

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.... 

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). ^5 

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 , 

Ana 5yddenly again go down. 



Act J I. Scene ///. 121 



Mephisto PHELES. 

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! 
'T is verily Homunculus. 
Now whence thy way, thou little lover? 

Homunculus. 

From place to ])lace 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 list: 

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 earthly being. 

And I shall doubtless learn, in season. 

Where to betake me with the soundest reason. 

Mephistophele^. 

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. 



12 2 Faust. 

Mephistopheles. 
Then go thy way I We further will inspect. 

\They separate» 
AnaXAGORAS (/tf Thal^s). ^^ 

Thy stubborn mind will not be rightened: 
What else is needful, that thou be enlightened? 

Thales. 

To every wind the billows yielding are; 

Yet from the cliff abrupt they keep themselves afar. 

Anaxagoras. 
By fiery vapors rose this rock you 're seeing. 

Thales. 
In moisture came organic life to being. 

IIoMUNCULUS {petiveen the two). 

To walk with you may I aspire? 
To come to being is my keen desire. 

Anaxagoras. 

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. ^7 

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! 



Act IL Scene III, 123 

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. 

Anaxaüoras. 

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 m'eans 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? 



124 Faust. 

Dactyl and Emmet hide together: 
Their cohorts scatter, seek the rear! 

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, Hecate! 

Thou breast-expanding One, thoii 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' orbed 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.) 



Act IL Scene III. 125 

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 

{climbiitif 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, 
For such pi 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-go\u^. 



126 Faust, 



Dryad. 



At home, be wise as it befits thee there; 
Abroad, thou hast no cleverness to spare. 
Thou shouldst not homeward turn thy mind, but here 
The honor of the ancient oaks revere. 

Mephistopheles. 

One thinks on all relinquished there; 
Use made it Paradise, and keeps it fair. 
But say, what is 't, in yonder cave 
Obscure, a crouching triple-shape resembling? 

Dryad. 

The Phorkyads!^9 Go there, if thou art brave; 
Address them, if thou canst, untrembling! 

Mephistopheles. 

Why not!. »I something see, and am dumbfounded! 
Proud as I am, I must confess the truth: 
I 've never seen their like, in sooth, — 
Worse than our hags, an Ugliness unbounded! 
How can the Deadly Sins then ever be 
Found ugly in the least degree. 
When one this triple dread shall see? 
We would not suffer them to dwell 
Even at the dreariest door of Hell; 
But here, in Beaiity'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, 

humming. 

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. 



Act II. Scene III, 127 

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 Parcae even — your sisters — yesterday, 
Or day before, they came across my way; 
And yet the like of you ne'er met my sight: 
Silent am I, and ravished with delight. 

The Phorkyads. 
This spirit seems to have intelligence. 

Mephistopheles. 

I am amazed no poet has the sense 

To sing your praises, — say, how can it be 

That we no pictures of your beauty see? 

Should not, through you, the chisel strive to wean us 

From shapes like those of Juno, Pallas, Venus? 

The Phorkyads. 

Sunken in solitude and stillest night, 

The mind of us ne'er took so far a flight. ^ 

Mephistophei.es. 

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, 
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 longing vision! 
What profit, if we knew them with precision? — 
We, born in night, akin to gloom alone. 
Unto ourselves almost, to others qukt, \mVx\c>\Qx\, 



128 Faust. 

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. 

Ox\E. 

Will it do, forsooth? 
The Others. 
We '11 try it! — but without or eye or tooth. 

Mephistophel-es. 

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. 

Mephistopheles. 
So be it, then! 

The Phorkyads. 
So be it! 

Mephistopheles. 

{as Phorkyad /;/ profile). 

Me behold, 
The much-beloved son of Chaos old! 

The Phorkyads. 
Daugthers of Chaos are we, by good right. 



Act II, Scene III 129 

MEPmSTOPHELES. 

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. 

Now from all eyes I '11 hide this visage fell, 
To fright the devils in the pool of Hell. • 

[Exit, 



IV. 
ROCKY COVES OF THE ^GEAN SEA.90 

The Moon delaying in the Zenith. 

Sirens 

{cotiched upon the cliffs around, fluting and sin gin s^. 

Though 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, 

Faust. II. 9 



130 , Faust, 

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! 

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,9i 

Vanished with favoring wind. 

What is their purpose there, in the dreary 

Domain of the lofty Cabiri? 

Gods are they, but the strangest crew, 

Ever begetting themselves anew. 

And unto their own being blind. 



Act //. Scene III. 131 

In thy meridian stay, 
Luna ! — graciously delay , 
That the Night still embrace us, 
And the Day not chase us! 

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. 



I 

i 
I 

! 



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. 



132 Faust, 



Nereus. 



What! Counsel? When did ever men esteem it? 

Wise words in hard ears are but lifeless lore. 

Oft as the Act may smite them when they scheme it, 

The People are as self-willed as before. 

How warned I Paris, in paternal trust, 

Before a foreign woman woke his lust! 

Upon the Grecian strand he stood so bold; 

I saw in spirit, and to him foretold 

The smoky winds, the overwhelming woe, 

Beams all a-blaze, murder and death below, -^— 

Troy's judgment-day, held fast in lofty rhyme, 

A terror through a thousand years of time! 

My words seemed sport unto the reckless one: 

His lust he followed: fallen was Ilion, — 

A giant carcass, stiff, and hacked with steel, 

To Pindus' eagles 't was a welcome meal. 

Ulysses, too! 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 bom, and be. 

Nereus. 

I^et 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.^« 
Olympus bears not, nor your lucent arch, 
Such lovely forms, in such a lightsome march: 



Act II. See fie III. 133 

They fling themselves, in wild and wanton dalliance, 

From the sea-dragons upon Neptune's stallions, 

Blent with the element so freely, brightly, 

That even the foam appears to lift them lightly. 

In Venus' chariot-shell, with hues of morn, 

Comes Galatea, now the fairest, borne; 

Who, since that Cypris turned from us her face, 

In Paphos reigns as goddess in her place. 

Thus she, our loveliest, long since came to own, 

As heiress, templed town and chariot-throne. 

Away! the father's hour of rapture clips 

Hate from the heart, and harshness from the lips. 

Away to Proteus! Ask that wondrous man 

Of Being's and of Transformation's plan! 

\^Ile 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! 

[TAey 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. 

Nereids and Tritons. 

What in our hands we bear you 
Much comfort shall prepare you. 



134 * Faust. . 

Chelone's buckler giant 
Shines with its forms defiant: — 
They 're Gods that we are bringing: 
High songs must you be singing! 

Sirens. 

Small to the sight, 
Great in their might, — 
Saviours of the stranded, 
Ancient Gods , and banded. 

Nereids and Tritons. 

We bring you the Cabiri 
To festals calm and cheery; 
For where their sway extendeth 
Neptune the realm befriendeth. 

Sirens. 

We yield to your claim; 
When a shipwreck came. 
Irresistibly you 
Protected the crew. 

Nereids and Tritons. 

Three have we brought hither, 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! 

Nereids and Tritons. 
Seven are they, really. 



Act J I. Scene III. 135 

Sirens. 
Where, then, stay the other three? 

Nereids and Tritons. 

The tnith 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,94 
Are always further yearning, 
With desire and hunger burning 
For the Unattainable! 

SiRKNS. 

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! 

. {Repeated as full chorus.) 

Though they have won the Fleece of Gold , — 
We! Ye! the Cabiri! 

{The Nkreids and Tritons inoi>e past.] 

w 



136 Faust, 

* 

HOMUNCULUS . 

These Malformations, every one, 
Had earthen pots for models .-95 
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 {unpercewed). 

This pleases me, the old fable-ranger! 
The more respectable, the stranger. 

Thales. 
Where art thou, Proteus? 

Proteus 

{speaking ventriloqualfy , 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 {so/tiy to Homunculus). 

He is quite near: shine brilliantly! 
For curious as a fish is he; 
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. 



Act IL Scene III, 137 

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 whomsoever 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. 

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 ! 



138 Faust. 

Proteus. 

Then all the sooner 't will succeed: 

Let hmi 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! 



V. 
TELCHINES OF RHODES. 98 

On Sea-Horses and Sea-Dragons^ 7vieldhig Neptune's 

Trident. 

Chorus. 

We 've forged for old Neptune the trident that urges 
To smoothness and peace the refractory surges. 



Act II. Scene III 139 

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! 

Telchixes. 

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: 
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: 



140 Faust, 

The forms of Gods, that stood and shone, 
Were by an earthquake overthrown, 
And long since have been melted wholly. 
This earthly toil, whatever it be. 
Is never else than drudgery: 
A better life the waves declare thee, 
And how 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 tl\e source be thou created! 
Be ready for the rapid plan! 
There, by eternal canons wending. 
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 live3 continue long, I find; 



Act II. Scene III 141 

For with thy pallid 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. 
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-bulls i 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, 



142 Faust. 

O'er the waves and their sweetest pulsations, 

Unseen to the new generations, 

The loveliest daughter we lead. 

We fear not, as lightly we hie on, . 

Either Eagle or wing-lifted Lion, 

Either Crescent or Cross, 

Though the sky it emboss, — 

Though it changefully triumphs and flashes. 

In defeat to forgetfulness dashes, 

Lays the fields and the cities in ashes! 

Straightway, with speed. 

The loveliest of mistresses forth we lead. 

• Sirens. 

Lightly moved, with paces graver, 
Circle round the car again; 
Line on line inwoven, waver 
Snake-Hke 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 

{in chorus, mounted on dolphins, passing Nereus). 

Lend us, Luna, light and shadow, 
Show this youthful flower and fire! 
For we bring beloved spouses , 
Praying for them to our sire. 

{To 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: 



Act II. Scene III. 143 

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. 

DORIDES. 

If thou praisest our endeavor. 
Father, grant the fond request, — 
Let us hold them fast forever 
On each young, immortal breast. 

Nereus. 

Take joy in what you Ve finely captured, 

And shape to men the youthful crew; 

I cannot grant the boon enraptured 

Which only Zeus can give to you. 

The billows, as they heave and rock you, 

Allow to love no firmer stand, 

So, when these fancies fade and mock you. 

Send quietly the youths to land. 

DORIDES. 

Fair boyS; we must part, forsooth; 
Yet we love you, we vow it! 
We have asked for eternal truth, 
But the Gods will not allow it. 

The Youths. 

We sailor-boys, if still you would 
Give love, as first you gave it. 
We Ve never had a life so good. 
And would not better have it! 
(Galatea approaches on her chariot of shell.) ^o^ 

Nereus. 
'T is thou, O my darling! 



144 Faust. 

Galatea. 

O, Sire! what delight! 
Linger, ye dolphins! I cling to the sight. 

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: 
It shines like a star 



Act II, Scene IV. 145 

Through the crowds intwining. 
Love from the tumult still is shining! 
Though ne'er so far, 
It shimmers bright and clear, 
Ever true and near. 

HOMUNCULUS. 

This softly heaving brine on, 
Whatever I may shine on 
Is all with beauty crowned. 

Proteus. 

Within this moisture living, 
Thy lamp now first is giving 
A clear and splendid sound. 

Nereus. 

What mystery new, 'mid the crowds that are wheeling, 

Is now to our vision its wonders revealing? 

What flames round the shell at the feet of the 

Queen? — 
Now flaring in force, and now shining serene. 
As if by the pulses of love it were fed. 

Thales. 

Homunculus is it, by Proteus misled!... 
And these are the signs of imperious yearning, 
The presage of swelling, impatiently spuming: 
He 'U shiver his glass on the glittering throne — 
He glows and he flashes, and now he hath flown! 

Sirens. 

What fiery marvel the billows enlightens , ^°^ 
As one on the other is broken and brightens? 
It flashes, and wavers, and hitherward plays! 
On the path of the Night are the bodies ablaze. 
And all things around are with flames overrun: 
Then Eros be ruler, who all things begun! 

Faust. II. \o 



14^ Faust. 

Hail, ye Waves! Hail, Sea unbounded, 
By the holy Fire surrounded! 
Water, hail! Hail, Fire, the splendid! 
Hail, Adventure rarely ended! 

All Together. 

Hail, ye Airs that softly flow! 
Hail, ye caves of Earth below! 
Honored now and evermore 
Be the Elemental Four! 



ACT III. 

BEFORE THE PALACE OF IVIENELAUS 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 resdess 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, 



150 Faust, 

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 re- 
ferred. 
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 beHeve. 
Burned not Ilion, saw we not also 
Death in the face, shamefullest death? 
And are we not here, 
With thee companioned, joyously serving. 
Seeing the dazzling sun in the heavens. 



Act III. 151 

And the fairest of earth, too, — 
Kindest one, thee, — we, the happy? 

Helena. 

Let come, what may! Whate'er awaits me, it 

beseems 
That I without delay go up in the Royal House, 
Which, long my need and yearning, forfeited almost, 
Once more hath risen on my sight, I know not how. 
My feet no longer bear me with such fearlessness 
Up the high steps , which as a child I sprang across. 

Chorus. 

Cast ye, O sisters! ye 

Sorrowful captives. 

All your trouble far from ye! 

Your mistress's joy partake, 

Helena's joy partake, 

Who the paternal hearth 

Delightedly now is approaching, 

Truly with late-returning 

But with firmer and surer feet! 

Praise ye the sacredest. 
Still re-establishing 
And home-bringing Immortals! 
How the delivered one 
Soars as on lifted wings 
Over asperities, while in vain 
The prisoned one, yearningly, 
Over the fortress-parapet 
Pineth with outspread arms! 

But a God took hold of her, 

The Expatriate, 

And from Hion's ruins 

Hither hath borne her again. 

To the ancient, the newly embellished 

Paternal house. 



150 Faust, 

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 re- 
ferred. 
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, shamefuUest death? 
And are we not here, 
With thee companioned, joyously serving, 
Seeing the dazzling sun in the heavens. 



Act III. 151 

And the fairest of earth, too, — 
Kindest one, thee, — we, the happy? 

Helena. 

Let come, what may! Whate'er awaits me, it 

beseems 
That I without delay go up in the Royal House, 
Which , long my need and yearning , forfeited almost , 
Once more hath risen on my sight, I know not how. 
My feet no longer bear me with such fearlessness 
Up the high steps , which as a child I sprang across. 

Chorus. 

Cast ye, O sisters! ye 

Sorrowful captives. 

All your trouble far from ye! 

Your mistress's joy partake, 

Helena's joy partake. 

Who the paternal hearth 

Delightedly now is approaching. 

Truly with late-returning 

But with firmer and surer feet! 

Praise ye the sacredest, 
Still re-establishing 
And home-bringing Immortals! 
How the delivered one 
Soars as on lifted wings 
Over asperities, while in vain 
The prisoned one, yearningly. 
Over the fortress-parapet 
Pineth with outspread arms! 

But a God took hold of her. 

The Expatriate, 

And from Hion's ruins 

Hither hath borne her again. 

To the ancient, the newly embellished 

Paternal house. 



152 Faust, 

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 

{^ho 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! 



Act III. 153 

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 1 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 stränger, friendly-wise. 
But when towards the ample hearth-stone I ad- 
vanced , 
I saw, beside the glimmering ashes that remained, 
A veiled and giant woman seated on the ground. 
Not like to one who sleeps, but one deep-sunk in 

thought. 
With words of stern command I summoned her to 

work, 
The stewardess surmising , who meanwhile , perchance , 
My spouse with forethought there had stationed when 

he left; 
But she, still crouched together, sat immovable. 
Stirred by my threats at last, she lifted the right arm 
As if from hearth and hall she beckoned me away. 
T 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 



154 Faust. 

Barring my way imperiously, and showed herself 
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. ^°4 

Much my experience, although the tresses. 
Youthfully clustering, wave on my temples; 
Many the terrible things I have witnessed, 
Warriors lamenting, Ilion's night. 
When it fell. 

Through the beclouded, dusty and maddened 
Throngs of the combatants, heard I the Gods then 
Terribly calling, heard I the iron 
Accents of Öiscord clang through the field, 
City- wards. 

Ah, yet stood they, IHons 
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. 



Act III. 155 

Giant-great, through the gloomy 
Fire-illuminate vapors. 

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, notwithstandig! 

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, — 



156 Faust. 

Hear the threat of every abuse 

From the denouncing mouths of the Fortunate, 

Whom the Gods themselves have fashioned! 

Phorkvas. ^°5 

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 nigth 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. 
AVho, then, are you, that round the Royal Palace 

high 
Like Maenads wild, or like Bacchantes, dare to rave? 
AVho, then, are you, that you the House's stewardess 
Assail and howl at, as the breed of dogs the moon? 
Think ye from me 'tis hidden, of what race ye are? 
Ye brood, in war begotten and in battle bred, 
Ivustful of man, seducing no less than seduced, 
Emasculating soldiers', burghers' strength alike! 
Methinks, to see your crowd, a thick cicada-swarm 
Hath settled on us, covering the green-sown fields. 
Devourers ye of others' toil! Ye snatch and taste, 



Act III. 157 

Destroying in its bud the land's prosperity! 
Wares are ye, plundered, bartered, and in n"\arket 

sold! 

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 Dion 
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, 
'V\Tiich 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 edelst 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! 



158 Faust. 

Phorkyas. 
How silly, near to understanding, want of sense! 

{Henceforth the Choretids ans7ver in turn, stepping singly 

forth from the Chorus.) 

Choretid \^^ 
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 J 

Phorkyas. 
Thee harpies, I suspect, did nurse and feed on filth. 

Choretid V. 
Wherewith dost thou such choice emaciation feed? 

Phorkyas. 
Not with the blood, for which thou all too greedy art. 

Choretid VI. 
Thou^ hungering for corpses, hideous corpse thyself! 



Act III. 159 

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 qf 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. 
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. 



i6o Faust. 

Ihee early 7'heseus 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. 
The bold sea-rover, the sustainer of his house. 

Helena. 

My sire the daughter gave him, and the government: 
Then from our wedded nearness sprang Hermione. 

Phorkl\s. 

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? 

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. 



Act III. i6i 

Phorkyas. 

Which thou forsookest, wending to the towered town 
Of Dion, 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 Bion, — in Egypt, too, beheld. 

Helena. 

Make Wholly not confused my clouded, wandering 

sense! 
Even in this moment, who I am I cannot tell. 

Phorkyas. 

And then, they say, from out the hollow Realm of 

Shades 
Achilles yet was joined in passion unto thee, 
Who earlier loved thee, 'gainst all ordinances of Fate! 

Helena. 

To him, the Vision, I, a Vision, wed myself: ^*^7 
It was a dream, as even the words themselves 

declare. 
I vanish hence, and to myself a Vision grow. 

(Ske sinks hito the arms of the Semichorus.) 

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, — 

Wolfs wrath under the sheep's woolly fleece^ — 

Tavst. JI. w 



1 62 Faust, 

Fearfuller far is unto me than 

Throat of the three-headed dog. 

Anxiously Hstening 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. 
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 

Beautiful. 

Helena. 

Tottering step I from the Void that — dizzy , fainting y 

— round me closed; 

And again would fain be resting, for so weary are 

my limbs. 



Aft III. 163 

Yet to Queens beseemeth chiefly, as to all men it 

beseems , 
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 com- 

mand'st thou? speak it out! 

Helena. 

Be prepared, for much neglected in your quarrel, 

to atone! 
Haste, a sacrifice to furnish, as the king hath 

ordered me! 

Phorkyas. 

All is ready in the palace — vessels , tripods , shar- 
pened 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! 

Helena. 
What distress hath overcome thee? 

Phorkyas. 
Queen, the offering art thou!'°^ 

Helena. 

I? 

Phorkyas. 

And these. 

II* 



164 Faust. 

Chorus. 
Ah, woe and sorrow! 

Phorkyas. 
Thou shalt fall beneath the axe. 

Helena. 
Fearful, yet foreboded! I, alas! 

Phorkyas. 

There seemeth no escape. 

Chorus. 
Ah! and what to us will happen? 

Phorkyas. 

She will die a noble death; 

But upon the lofty beam, upholding rafter-frame 

and roof, 

As in birding-time the throstles, ye in turn shall 

struggling 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. 
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 doonvay muffled 
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. 



Act III. 165 

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 edelst, in high duty bound, 

Should words exchange with thee, primeval edelst 

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 

sibyl thou, 
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 

joyous cadence. 
Resting afterwards on lovers' breasts. 



1 66 Faust. 

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 an- 
ticipation , 

We can feel the choking, smothering — if thou, 

Rhea, lofty Mother 

Of the Gods, to mercy be not moved. 

Phorkyas. 

Have you then patience, such long-winded course 

of speech 
To hear in silence? Manifold the stories are. 

Chorus. 
Patience enough! Meanwhile, in hearing, still we live. 

Phorkyas. 

Whoso, to guard his noble wealth, abides at home, 
And in his lofty dwelling well cements the chinks 
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 overthrown. 

Helena. 

Wherefore declaim such well-known sayings here, 

as these? 

Thou wouldst narrate: then stir not up^ annoying 

themes I 



Aa III. 167 

Phorkyas. 

It is historic truth, and nowise a reproach. 
Sea-plundering, Menelaus steered from bay to bay; 
He skirted as a foe the islands and the shores, 
Returning with the booty, which in yonder rusts. 
Then ten long years he passed in front of Ilion; 
But for the voyage home how many know I not. 
And now how is it, where we stand by Tyndarus* 
Exalted House? How is it with the regions round? 

Helena. 

Has then Abuse become incarnated in thee, 

That canst not open once thy lips, except to blame? 

Phorkyas. 

So many years deserted stood the valley hills 
That in the rear of Sparta northwards rise aloft, 
Behind Taygetus; whence, as yet a nimble brook, 
Eurotas downward rolls, and then, along our vale 
By reed-beds broadly flowing, nourishes your swans. 
Behind there in the mountain-dells a daring breed 
Have settled, pressing forth from the Cimmerian 

Night, 
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. 



1 68 Faust. 

He might, indeed, have taken all; yet was content 
With some 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 Hion 
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 masonry. 
The which your fathers, helter-skelter tumbling, 

piled , — 
Cyclopean like the Cyclops, stones undressed at once 
On stones undressed upheaving : there, however, there 
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 dim 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, pillarlets, 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. 



Act III. 169 

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 S)nmbols 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, 
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. 

'T is 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! 



I70 Faust. 



Helena. 



What! Shall 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 so 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 entraiNnerves , thus Jealousy her claws 
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. 

Pause. 

Helena. 

What I may venture first to do , have I devised. 
A hostile Daemon art thou, that I feel full well. 



Act III. 171 

And much I fear thou wilt convert the Good to 

Bad, 

But first to yonder fortress now I follow thee; 

What then shall come, I know: but what the Queen 

thereby 

As mystery in her deepest bosom may conceal. 

Remain unguessed by all! Now, Ancient, lead 

the way! 

Chorus. 

O how gladly we go. 

Hastening thither! 

Chasing us. Death, 

And, rising before us, 

The towering castle's 

Inaccessible ramparts. 

Guard us as well may they 

As IHon's citadel-fort. 

Which at last alone 

Fell, through contemptible wiles! 

{Mists arise and spread, obscuring the background , also the nearer 

portion of the scene , at pleasure.) 

How is it? how? 

Sisters, look around! 

Was it not cheerfullest day? 

Banded vapors are hovering up 

Out of Eurotas' holy stream; 

Vanished 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, 



172 Faust. 

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? 

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, m surrounded with rich, fantastic 

buildings of the Middle Ages.) 

Leader of the Chorus. 

Precipitate and foolish, type of women ye! 
Dependent on the moment, sport of every breeze 
That blows mischance or luck! and neither ever ye 
Supported calmly. One is sure to contradict 
The others fiercely, and cross-wise the others her: 
OrAy in joy and pain ye howl and laugh alike. 



Act III. 173 

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 
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 re- 
mained 
There in the mists, from out whose bosom hither- 
wards — 
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 relieved! O, yonder behold 
How so orderly downward with lingering step 
The crowd of the youths in dignity comes, 
In regular march! Who hath given command 
That they marshal in ranks, and so promptiy 

disposed , 
The youthfuUest 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 , 



174 Faust. 

Or the twin-rounded cheeks, blushing red Uke the 

peach , 
And also, like them, with the silkiest down? 
Fain therein would I bite, yet I fear me to try; 
JFor, 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? 

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 CiiORUS takes place by degrees* 
After the boys and squires have descettded in a long procession , 
Faust appears above ^ at the head of the staircase , in knightly 
Court costume of the Middle Ages , and then comes 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. 



Act III. 175 

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 ! 

Faust 

(approaching: a man 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 armed 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! 



176 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 blinded me, as well. 

I forgot the warder's duty 
And the trumpet's herald-call: 
Threaten to destroy me! Beauty 
Bin deth anger, frees her thrall. 

Helena. 

The Evil which I brought, I dare no more 
Chastise. Ah, woe to me! What fate severe 
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. 



Act III, 177 

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 guildess 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 

{^ith a chesty 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. 

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: 

Faust. II. 12 



178 Faust, 

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. 

And heaps of gold I came to own. 
With many a splendid jewel-stone: 
The emeralds only worthy seem 
Greenly upon thy breast to gleam. 

'Twixt lip and ear let swaying sleep 
The pearly egg of Ocean's deep; 
Such place the rubies dare not seek, 
They 're blanched beside the rosy cheek. 

And thus, the treasure's offering 
I here before thy presence bring : 



Act III. 179 

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! 

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! 

12* 



i8o Faust 



Lynceus. 



What the lord commands is slight; 
For the servants, labor light: 
Over wealth and blood and breath 
This proud Beauty govemeth. 
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 

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! 



Act JIL i8i 

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 — 

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 nion, and the perilous, 
Labyrinthine, sorrowful voyage. 

Women, to the love of men accustomed, 
Dainty choosers are they not, 



i82 Faust. 

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. 
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." 

Faust. 

I scarcely breathe; I tremble; speech is dead: 
It is a dream, and day and place have fled. 

Helena. 

I seem as life were done, and yet so new. 

Blent thus with thee, — to thee, the Unknown, true! 

Faust. 

To probe this rarest fate be not impelled! 
Being is duty, though a moment held. 

PhORKYAS {violently entering). 

Spell in lovers' primers sweetly! 
Probe and dally, cosset featly, 
Test your wanton sport completely! 
But there is not time, nor place. 



Act III. 183 

. 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 sh alt pay for woman's grace: 
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. 
Dl message makes the fairest herald ugly seem; 
Thou, Ugliest, delightest but in evil news. 
Yet this time shalt thou not succeed; with empty 

breath 
Stir, shatter thou the air! There is no danger here, 
And unto us were danger but an idle threat. 

(Signals t explosions from the towers ^"^"^^ trumpets and comets ^ 
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! 



1 84 Faust 

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. 

Back from these walls, no more delaying, 
Drive Menelans 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: 
Acha'ia, 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 shaU 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 instructions*) 

Chorus. 

Who for himself the Fairest desires. 
First of all things, let him 



Ad III. 185 

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! 

This land, before all lands in splendor, "7 
On every race shall bliss confer, — 
Which to my queen in glad surrender 
Yields, as it first looked up to her. 



1 86 Faust. 

When, 'mid Eurotas' whispering rushes 
She burst from Leda'a 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 ridgy backs of mountains 
The Sun's cold arrow smites each cloven head, 
Yet, where the rock is greened by falling fountains, 
The wild-goat nibbles and is lightly fed. 

The springs leap forth, the streams united follow; 
Green are the gorges, slopes, and meads below: 
On hundred hillsides, cleft with many a hollow, 
Thou seest the woolly herds like scattered snow. 

Divided, cautious, graze with measiu-ed 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. 

Primeval woods! the strong oak there is regnant, 
And bough crooks out from bough in stubborn state; 
The maple mild, with sweetest juices pregnant, 
Shoots cleanly up, and dallies with its weight. 

And motherly, in that still realm of shadows. 
The warm milk flows, for child's and lambkin's lips: 
At hand is fruit, the food of fertile meadows. 
And from the hollow trunk the honey drips. 



Act III, 187 

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, 
AU 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. 

To tread this happy soil at last incited. 
Thy flight was towards a joyous destiny! 
Now let our throne become a bower unblighted. 
Our bliss become Arcadian and free! 

[The scene of action is completely transformed. Against a range 
of rocky caverns close bowers are constructed. A shadowy grove 
extends to the foot of the rocks which rise on all sides, Faust 
and Helena are not seen: the Chorus lies scattered about y 

sleeping."] 

Phorkyas. 

How long these maidens have been sleeping, know 

I not: 
If they allowed themselves to dream what now mine eyes 



1 88 Faust, 

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 j^ "9 — 
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. 

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. 



Act JIL 189 

Chorus. 

Speakest thou as if within were spaces roomy as the 

world is: 

Wood and meadow , lakes and rivers , — what a fable 

dost thou spin! 

Phorkyas. 

Certainly, ye Inexperienced! Those are unexplored 

recesses ; 
Hall on hall, and court on court succeeding, mus- 
ingly 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. 
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 

pleasiu-e , 
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 



1 90 Faust, 

To another, and around, as springs a ball when 

sharply struck. 
Yet, a-sudden, in a crevice of the hollow gulf he 's 

vanished, 
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. 
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 him- 
self proclaiming 
Futiu-e Master of all Beauty, all the melodies 

eternal 
Throbbing in his flesh and blood; and you shall thus, 

delighted, hear him, — 
Thus shall you behold him, with a wonder never 

felt before! 

Chorus. 

Call'st thou a marvel tliis, 
Creta 's begotten?"^ 
Poetic-didactical word 
Hast thou listened to never? 
Never yet hearkened Ionia's 
Never received also Hellas' 



Act III. 191 

Godlike, heroical treasure 
Of ancient, primitive legends? 

All that ever happens 
Now in the Present 
Mocks like a mournful echo 
The grander days of the Fathers. 
Not comparable is thy story 
Unto that loveliest falsehood, 
Than Truth more credible. 
Sung of the Son of Maia! 

This strong and delicate, yet 
Scarcely delivered suckling. 
Swathe ye in purest downy bands. 
Bind ye in precious diapered stuffs. 
As is the gossiping nurse's 
Unreasonable notion! 
Strongly and daintily draws, no less. 
Now the rogue the flexible. 
Firm yet elastic body 
Cunningly out, and leaveth the close. 
Purple, impeding shell 
Quietly there in its place. 
Like the completed butterfly. 
Which from the chilly chrysalid 
Nimbly, pinion-unfolding, slips. 
Boldly and wilfully fluttering through 
Sunshine-pervaded ether. 

So he, too, the sprightliest : 

That unto thieves and jugglers — 

All the seekers of profit, as well, — 

He the favorable 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. 



192 Faust, 

Even from Zeus, the Father, bolts had he 

Filched, hat 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^ 

Phorkyas. 

Hark! the music, pure and golden; 
Free from fables be at last! 
All your Gods, the medley olden, 
Let depart! their day ist 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 mom! 
What the world has never given 
Now within our hearts is born. 
(Helena. Faust. Euphorion in the costume already described) 

EUPHORION.'^^ 

Hear ye songs of childish pleasure, 
Ye are moved to playful glee; 
Seeing me thus dance in measure, 
Leap your hearts parentally. 



Act III. 193 

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. 

Faust. 

All we seek has therefore found us; 
I am thine and thou art mine! 
So we stand as Love hath bound us; 
Other fortune we resign. 

Chorus. 

Many years shall they, delighted, 
Gather from the shining boy 
Double bliss for hearts united: 
In their union what a joy! 

EUPHORION. 

Let me be skipping,' 
Let me be leaping! 
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! 

Faust. II. 13; 



194 Faust, 

Let go my tresses, 
My hands let go, here! 
Let go my garments! 
They all are mine. 

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. 

(Wifiding 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, 195 

Faust. 

Soon let it ended be! 
Sight of such jugglery 
Troubles my heart. 

Chorus 

ntk EUPHORION, dancing nimbly and singing y in interlinking 

ranks). 

When thou thine arms so fair 

Charmingly liftest, 

The curls of thy shining hair 

Shakest and shiftest; 

When thou, with foot so light, 

Brushest the earth in flight, 

Hither and forth again 

Leading the linked chain, 

Then is thy goal in sight, 

Loveliest Boy! 

All of our hearts in joy 

Round thee unite. 

Pause. 
EUPHORION. 

Not yet repose. 
Ye light-footed roes! 
Now to new play 
Forth, and away! 
I am the hunter, 
You are the game. 

Chorus. 

Wouldst thou acquire us, 
Be not so fast! 
We are desirous 
Only, at last, 
Clasping thy beauty, 
Kisses to claim! 



196 Faust. 

EUPHORION. 

Through groves and through hedg 

O'er cliffs and o'er ledges! 

Lightly what fell to me, 

That I detest: 

What I compel to me 

Pleases me best. 

Helena and Faust. 

How perverse, how wild he 's growing f 
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 
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.' 
(SAe turns to flame and flashes up in the air,) 



Act III. 197 

To the airy spaces follow, 
Follow me to caverns hollow, 
Snatch and hold thy vanished aim! 

EUPHORION 
(shaking off the last flames). 

JRocks 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: 
^oth far away I hear; 
Fain would be near. 

{He leaps ever farther up the rocks.) 

Helena, Faust, and Chorus. 

«Chamois-like, dost thou aspire? 
Fearful of the fall are we. 

EUPHORION. 

I must clamber ever higher. 
Ever further must I see. 



l»Jow, where I am, I spy! 
Midst of the Isle am I: 
Midst of Pelops' land. 
Kindred in soul, I stand! ^ 



22 



Chorus. 

Bide thou by grove and hill, 
Peacefully, rather! 
We from the vineyards will 
Grapes for thee gather, — 
Orapes from the ridges tanned. 
Figs, and the apple's gold: 
Ah! yet the lovely land, 
Loving, behold! 



198 Faust, 

EUPHORION. 

Dream ye the peaceful day? 
Dream, then, who may! 
War! is the countersign: 
Victory — word divine! 

Chorus. 

Who peace and unity 
Scoraeth, for war's array. 
With impunity 
Slays his hope of a better day.. 

EUPHORXON. 

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! 

Chorus. 

Look aloft! he seeks the Famess„ 
Yet to us not small he seems. 
As for battle, as in harness. 
He like steel and silver gleams. 

EUPHORION. 

Walls and towers no more immuring^ 
Each in vigor stands confessed! 
Fortress firm and most enduring 
Is the soldier's iron breast. 

Would ye dwell in freemen's houses? 
Arm, and forth to combat wild! 
See, as Amazons, your spouses, 
And a hero every child! 



Act JIJ, 199 

Chorus. 

Hallowed Poesy, 
Heavenward mounting, see! 
Shining, the fairest star, 
Farther, and still more far! 
Yet, from the distance blown, 
Hear we the lightest tone, 
And raptured are. 

EUPHORION. 

No, 't is no child which thou beholdest — 

A youth in arms, with haughty brow! 

And with the Strongest, Freest, Boldest, 

His soul is pledged, in manly vow. 

I go! 

For, lo! 

The path to Glory opens now.^^s 

Helena and Faust. 

Thou thy being scarcely leamest. 

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. 

To die: 't is certain, once for all. 

Helena, Faust, and Chorus. 

What a horror! We shall rue it! 
Ah, is Death command to thee? 



200 Faust, 

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 moment^ 
his head is illuminated and a streak of light follows^ 

Chorus. 

Icarus! Icarus! 
Sorrowful sight! 

\A beautiful Youth falls at the feet of the parents. We imagine 
that in the dead body we perceive a well-known form; yet the 
corporeal part vanishes at once, and the aureole rises like a comet 
towards heaven. The garment ^ mantle y and lyre remain upon 

the ground.] 

Helena and Faust. 

Joy is followed, when scarce enjoyed, 
By bitterest moan. 

EUPHORION {from the Depths). 

Leave me ha-e, in the gloomy Void, 
Mother, not thus alone! 

Pause. 

Chorus. [Dirge.] "4 

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. 



Act III. 20 1 

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: 
Thine were loves of women fairest, 
And a song thy very own. 

Yet thou rannest uncontrolledly 
In the net the fancies draw, 
Thus thyself divorcing boldly 
As from custom, so from law; 
Till the highest thought expended 
Set at last thy courage free: 
Thou wouldst win achievement splendid 
But it was not given to thee. 

Unto whom, then? Question dreary, 
Destiny will never heed; 
When in evil days and weary, 
Silently the people bleed. 
But new songs shall still elate them: 
Bow no longer and deplore! 
For the soil shall generate them. 
As it hath done heretofore. 

Complete Pause. The music ceases. 

Helena {to Faust). 

Also in me, alas! an old word proves its truth. 
That Bliss and Beauty ne'er enduringly unite. 
Tom is the link of Life , no less than that of Love ; 
So, both lamenting, painfully I say: Farewell! 



202 Faust, 

And cast myself again — once only — in thine arms. 
Receive, Persephone, receive the boy and me, 

[She embraces Yh\3^: her corporeal part disappears ^ her garment 

and veil remain in his arms,) 

Phorkyas (/<? Faust), 

Hold fast what now alone remains to thee! 

The garment let not go! Already twitch 

The Demons at its skirts, and they would fain 

To the Nether Regions drag it! Hold it fasti 

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 garments dissolve into clouds ^ 125 surround Faust, 
lift him aloft in the air, and move away with him,) 

Phorkyas 

{takes up Euphorion's tunic j mantle^ and lyre from the earthy 
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 , 



Act III, 203 

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. 

Chorus. 

Queens, of course, are satisfied everywhere: 

Even in Hades take they highest rank, 

Proudly associate with their peers. 

With Persephone closely allied: 

We, however, in the background 

Of the asphodel-besprinkled meadows. 

With the endless rows of poplars 

And the fruitless willows ever mated, — 

What amusement, then, have we? 

Bat-like to squeak and twitter 

In whispers uncheery and ghostly! 

Leader of the Chorus. 

Who hath not won a name, and seeks not noble 

works , 
Belongs but to the elements: away then, ye! 
My own intense desire is with my Queen to be; 
Service and faith secure the individual Hfe. "^ 

[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, '^7 

Makes to us spirits 

Validest claim, and we to her also. 

A Part of the Chorus. 

We, in trembling whispers, swaying rustle of a thou- 
sand branches 

Sweetly rocked, will lightly lure the rills of life, the 

rootborn, upwards 



204 Faust, 

To the twigs; and, or with foliage or exuberant gush 

of blossoms, 

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 

gentle 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 brook- 
lets onward; 

For allure us yonder distant, richly -mantled moun- 
tain 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. 



Act III. 205 

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 

witnessed , 
And the loving diligence, that hath so doubtful a 

result. 
Now with hoe and now with shovel, then with hil- 
ling, pruning, tieing, 
Unto all the Gods he prayeth, chiefly to the Sun's 

bright god. 
Small concern hath pampered Bacchus for his faith- 
ful 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, Helios before the 

others , 
Have with breeze and dew and warmth and glow 

the berries filled with juice, 
Where the vintager in silence labored, all is life and 

motion , 
Every trellis stirs and rustles , and they go from stake 

to stake. 
Baskets creak and buckets rattle, groaning tubs are 

borne on back. 
All towards the vat enormous and the treaders' lusty 

dance; 
So is then the sacred bounty of the pure-born, juicy 

berries 
Rudely trodden; foaming, spirting, they are mixed 

and grimly crushed. 



2o6 Faust, 

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 an- 
cient skin! 

[The curtain falls, 128 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^ 



ACT IV. 

L 
HIGH MOUNTAINS. 

Strong, serrated rocky peaks, A cloud approaches, 
pauses, and settles down upon a projecting ledge. 

It then divides, 

Faust {steps forth), 

Down-Gazing on the deepest solitudes below, 
I tread deliberately this summit^s lonely edge, 
Relinquishing my cloudy car, which hither bore 
Me sofdy through the shining day o'er land and sea. 
Unscattered, slowly moved, it separates from me. 
Off eastward strives the mass with rounded, rolling 

march: 
And strives the eye, amazed, admiring, after it. 
In motion it divides, in wave-like, changeful guise; 
Yet seems to shape a figure. **9 — Yes! mine eyes 

not err! — 
On sun-illumined pillows beauteously reclined. 
Colossal, truly, but a godlike woman-form, 
I see! The like of Juno, Leda, Helena, 
Majestically lovely, floats before my sight! 
Ah, now 't is broken! Towering broad and form- 

lessly , 



2o8 Faust, 

m 

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 
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 : 130 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. 



Act IV, Scene I, 209 

The Devils all set up a coughing, sneezing, 

At every vent without cessation wheezing: 

With sidphur-stench and acids Hell dilated, 

And such enormous gas was thence created. 

That very soon Earth's level, far extended, 

Thick as it was , was heaved , and split , and rended ! 

The thing is plain, no theories o'ercome it: 

What formerly was bottom, now is summit. 

Hereon they base the law there's no disputing. 

To give the undermost the topmost footing: 

For we escaped from fiery dungeons there 

To overplus of lordship of the air; — 

A mystery manifest and well concealed, *3^ 

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 grfeen and grow; with joy therein she ranges, 

Requiring no insane, convulsive changes. 

Mephistopheles. 

Yes, so you talk! You think it clear as sun; 
But he knows otherwise, who saw it done. 
For I was there, while still below was surging 
The red abyss, and streamed the flaming tide, — 
When Moloch's hammer, welding rocks and forging. 
Scattered the mountain-ruins far and wide. 
O'er all the land the foreign blocks you spy there; ^^^ 
Who solves the force that hurled them to their place? 
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. 

Faust. II. 14 



2IO Faust, 

Only the common, faithful people know, 

And nothing shakes them in their firm believing: 

Their wisdom ripened long ago, — 

A marvel 't is, of Satan's own achieving. 

On crutch of faith my traveller climbs the ridges. 

Past Devil's Rocks and over Devil's Bridges. 

Faust. 

Well, — 't is remarkable and new 
To note how Devils Nature view. 

Mephistopheles. 

What 's all to me? Her shape let Nature wear! 
The point of honor is, the Devil was there! 
We are the folk to compass grand designs: 
Tumult, and Force, and Nonsense! See the signs ! - 
Yet now, with sober reason to address thee. 
Did nothing on our outside shell impress thee? 
From this exceeding height thou saw'st unfurled 
The glory of the Kingdoms of the World.* 53 
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; 
With meat-stands, where the blue flies muster,* 
And round fat joints like gourmands cluster: 
There shalt thou find, imdoubtedly. 
Stench, always, and activity. 
Then ample squares, and streets whose measure 
Assumes an air of lordly leisure; 



Act IV, Scene L 211 

And last, without a gate to bar, 
The boundless suburbs stretching far. 
'T were joy to see the coaches go. 
The noisy crowding to and fro, 
The endless running, hither, thither, 
Of scattered ants that stream together: 
And whether walking, driving, riding. 
Ever their central point abiding, 
Honored by thousands, should be I: 

Faust. 

Therewith I would not be contented! 
One likes to see the people multiply. 
And in their wise with comfort fed, — 
Developed even, taught, well-bred. 
Yet one has only, when all 's said, 
The sum of rebels thus augmented. '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 a thousand spirt and piddle,. 
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 
Pass in the loveliest social solitude. 
JVomen, I say; and, once for all, believe 
That in the plural I the sex conceive! 

Faust. 

Sardanapalus I Modern , — poor 1 

14* 



212 Faust, 



Mephistopheles. 



Then might one guess whereunto thou hast striven? 
Boldly-sublime it was, I 'm sure. 
Since nearer to the moon thy flight was driven, 
Would now thy mania that realm secure? 

Faust. 

Not so! This sphere of earthly soil 
Still gives us room for lofty doing. 
Astounding plans e'en now are brewing: 
I feel new strength for bolder toil. 

Mephistopheles. 

So, thou wilt Glory earn? 'T is plain to see 
That heroines have been thy company. 

Faust. 

Power and Estate to win, inspires my thought! 
The Deed is everything, the Glory naught. 

Mephistopheles. 

Yet Poets shall proclaim the matter, 
Thy fame to future ages flatter, 
By folly further folly scatter! 

Faust. 

All that is far beyond thy reach. 
How canst thou know what men beseech? 
Thy gross-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 dra^vn to view the open Ocean: ^35 
It swelled aloft, self-heaved and over-vaulting. 



Act IV, See fie /. 213 

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 impassioned ly) . 

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. 

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: 

Let that high joy be mine forevermore. 

To shut the lordly Ocean from the shore. 

The watery waste to limit and to bar. 

And push it back upon itself afar! 

From step to step I settied how to fight it: 

Such is my wish: dare tliou to expedite it! 

{Drums and martial music in the rear of the spectators , from 

the distance y on the right hand,) 



214 Faust. 

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 I 

Faust. 

Spare me the squandering of thy riddle-pelf! 
What means it, once for all! Explain thyself! 

Mephistopheles. 

Upon my way, to me it was discovered 

That mighty troubles o'er the Emperor hovered: 

Thou knowest him. The while we twain, beside him. 

With wealth illusive bounteously supplied him. 

Then all the world was to be had for pay; 

For as a youth he held imperial sway, 

And he was pleased to try it, whether 

Both interests would not smoothly pair, 

Since 't were desirable and fair 

To govern and enjoy, together. 

Faust. 

A mighty error! He who would command 
Must in commanding find his highest blessing: 
Then, let his breast with force of will expand, 
But what he wills, be past another's guessing! 
What to his faithful he hath whispered, that 
Is turned to act, and men amaze thereat: 
Thus will he ever be the highest-placed 
And worthiest ! — Enjoyment makes debased. 



Act IV, Scene L 215 

Mephistopheles. 

Such is he not! He did enjoy, even he I 

Meanwhile the realm was torn by anarchy, 

Where great and small were warring with each other, 

And brother drove and slaughtered brother, 

Castle to castle, town 'gainst town arrayed. 

The nobles and the guilds of trade. 

The Bishop, with his chapter and congregation, — 

All meeting eyes but looked retaliation. 

In churches death and murder; past the gates, 

The merchants travelled under evil fates; 

And all grew bolder, since no rule was drawn 

For life, but: Self-defence! — So things went on. 

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 fuU-measiu-ed 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^ 
The riot rose, the riot was consecrated. 



2i6 Faust, 

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. 
Who knows how yet the dice may fall? 
If he has fortune, vassals come withal. 

[They cross over the middle range of mountains y and view the 
arrangement of the army in the valley. Drums and military 

music resound from delotv.] 

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! 

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 shat win it! Here, in brief, 
Shalt thou be General-in-Chief. 



Act IV, Scene /. 217 

Faust. 

A high distinction thou wouldst lend, — 

There to command, where naught I comprehend? 

Mephistoph£les. 

Leave to the Staff the work and blame, 
Then the Field-Marshal 's sure of fame! 
Of War-Uncouncils I have had enough. 
And my War-Coimcil 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? 

MEPfflSTOPHELES. 

No! But I 've brought, like Peter Squence,*37 
From all the raff the quintessence. 

The Three Mighty Men appear, "»^l^ 

Mephistopheles. 

My fellows draw already near! 

Thou seest, of very different ages. 

Of different garb and armor they appear: 

They will not serve thee ill when battle rages. 

{Ad spectatores,) 

Now every child delights to see 
The harness and the helm of knightly action; 
And allegoric, as the blackguards be. 
They '11 only all the more give satisfaction. 

Bully 

{young i 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 'D catch the coward. 



2 1 8 Faust, 

Havequick 

(»lattfyt weli-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 i strongly 'armed ^ without raintenl). 

Yet little gain thereafter lingers! 

Soon slips great wealth between your fingers, 

Borne by the tides of Life as down they nm. 

'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,) 



II. 

ON THE HEADLAND. ^39 

Drums and military music from belo7v. 
The Emperor's tent is pitched. 

Emperor. General-in-Chief. I^ife-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. 



Act IV, Scene IL 219 

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. 

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 bum 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; 



220 Faust. 

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! 

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. — She^p are they! 



Act IV, Scene II. 221 

Emperor. 

Now, by a Rival Emperor shall I gain: 

That / am Emperor, thus to me is plain. 

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 I now atone! 

{The Heralds are despatched to challenge the Rival Emperor to 

single combat.) 

Faust enters^ in armor .^ with half'closed visor. The Three 
MiGHT\' Men, armed and clothed^ as ah-eady 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, ^4© 
Behold events that nile the Upper World. 



2 2 2 Faust, 



Emperor. 



I understand it, and can well agree; 

But say, thou gallant man, what 's that to me? 

Faust. 

The Sabine old, the Norcian necromancer, '^^ 
Thy true and worthy servant, sends thee answer: 
What fearful fate it was, that overhung him! 
The fagots crackled, fire already stung him; 
The billets dry were closely round him fixed. 
With pitch and rolls of brimstone intermixed; 
Not Man, nor God, nor Devil, him could save, — 
The Emperor plucked him from his fiery grave. 
It was in Rome. Still is he bound unto thee; 
Upon thy path his anxious thoughts pursue thee; 
Himself since that dread hour forgotten, he 
Questions the stars, the depths, alone for thee. 
Us he commissioned, by the swiftest courses 
Thee to assist. Great are the mountain's forces; 
There Nature works 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 fatetul 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! 

Self is the Man!^^^ Who crown and throne would 

claim 
Must personally be worthy of the same. 



Act IV, Scene //. 225 

And may the Phantom, which against us stands, 
The self-styled Emperor, Lord of all our lands. 
The army's Duke, our Princes' feudal head, 
With mine own hand be hurled among the dead! 

Faust. 

Howe'er the need that thy great work be finished, 
Risked were thy head, the chances were diminished. 
Is not the helm adorned with plume and crest? 
The head it shields, that steels our courage best. 
Without a head, what should the members bridle? 
Let it but sleep, they sink supine and idle. 
If it be injured, all the hurt confess in 't, 
And all revive, when it is convalescent. 
Then soon the arm its right shall reassert. 
And lift the shield to save the skull from hurt: 
The sword perceives at once its honored trust. 
Parries with vigor, and repeats the thrust: 
The gallant foot its share of luck will gain. 
And plants itself upon the necks of slain. 

Emperor. 

Such is my wrath; I 'd meet him thus, undaunted. 
And see his proud head as my footstool planted! 

Heralds {returning). 

Little honor was accorded; 

We have met with scorn undoubted: 

Our defiance, nobly worded. 

As an empty farce they flouted: 

** Lo , your Lord is but a vision , — 

Echo of a vanished prime: 

When we name him, says Tradition: 

*He was — once upon a timeP^^ 

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. 



224 Faust. 

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 fonvard.) »43 

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. 

General-in-Chief. 

Let then our centre phalanx follow slow, — 
Engage with caution, yet with might, the foe! 
There to the right, already overtaken. 
Our furious force their plan has rudely shaken! 

Faust {pointing to the middle one). 

Let also this one now obey thy word! 



Act IV. Scene IL 225 

HaVEQUICK (comes fonvard). 

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 

{sutieress, fawning upon him). 

Though never tied to him by priest, 
He is my sweetheart dear, at least. 
Our autumn 't is, of ripest gold! 
Woman is fierce when she takes hold, 
And when she robs, is merciless: 
All is allowed, so forth to victory press! 

\Exeunt both, 

General-in-Chief. 

Upon our left, as was to be foreseen, 

Their right is stropgly 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. 

Holdfast [coming fonvards). 

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! 



Mephistopheles 

(descending from above). 

And now behold, how, more remote, 
From every jagged rocky throat 

Faust. II. 15 



[Exit. 



2 2 6 Faust, 

Comes forth an armed host, increasing, 
Down every narrow pathway squeezing. 
With helm and harness, sword and spear, 
A living rampart in our rear, 
And wait the sign to charge the foemen! 

{Aside i 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. 
Here standeth ready, now, an ancient race; 
In the new conflict it would fain have place. 

{Tremendous peal of trumpets from above: a perceptible wavering 

in the hostile army.) 

Faust. 

The near horizon dims and darkles; 

Yet here and there with meanmg sparkles 

A ruddy and presaging glow; ^44 

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. 



Act IV, Seem II, 227 

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. 

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? 

15* 



2 28 Faust. 

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. 

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. ^*s 

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, like a flash, 

Upon each other swiftly dash. 

That necks be cleft and bodies rended! 



Act jy. Scene //. 229 

Faust. 

Mark now the evil Griffin quail! 
Rumpled and torn, the foe he feareth, 
And with his drooping lion's-tail, 
Plunged in the tree- tops, disappeareth. 

Emperor. 

Even as presaged, so may it be! 
I take the sign, admiringly. 

MePHISTOPHELES {towards the 7:ight), 

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, 



230 Faust, 

Mephistopheles. 

There come my ravens, croaking presage; 
What nature, then, may be their massage? 
I fear we stand in evil plight. 

Emperor. 

What mean these fatal birds enchanted? 
Their inky sails are hither slanted. 
Hot from the rocky field of fight. 

MEPfflSTOPHELES {to the Rcwem). 

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 fortimes, 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! 



Act IV, Scene II, 231 

The close will be the fiercest stand. 
Sure messengers for me are flying: 
Command that I may give command! 

General-in-Chief 

{^ho has meanwhile arrk'eci). 

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 General-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 
To the mountain-lake! The Undines, watery beauties, 
Entreat, the appearance of their floods to spare! 
By female arts, beyond our sharpest seeing. 



232 Faust, 

They can divide the Appearance from the Being, 
And all will swear the Being 's there! 

Pause. 

Faust. 

Our ravens must, with flattery beladen, 

Have sweetly coaxed each winsome water-maiden; 

The trickling streams at once descend. 

The bald and rocky shoulders of the mountains 

Give birth to full and swiftly-flowing fountains; 

Their victory is at an end. 

Mephistopheles . 

To such reception they 're not used: 
The boldest climbers grow confused. 

Faust. 

Now brook roars down to brook with mighty bubble; 
Then from the mouths of glens they issue double, 
And fling themselves, in arches, o'er the pale; 
Then suddenly spread along the rocky level, 
And to and fro foam onward in their revel, 
As down a stairway hurled into the vale. 
What boots their gallant, hero-like resistance? 
The billow bursts, and bears them down the distance; 
Before such wild uproar even I must quail. 

Mephistopheles. 

Nothing I see of all this moist illusion: 
To human eyes, alone, it brings confusion^ 
And in the wondrous chance I take delight. 
They fly in headlong, hurried masses; 
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. 



Act IV. Scene II, 233 

Then hasten to that smithy eerie, 

Where the dwarf-people, never weary, 

Hanuner 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 Hghtning, 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. 

Mephistopheles. 

Quite right! The forms there 's no restraining: 

Already knightly whacks are raining, 

As in the splendid times of old. 

The brassarts there, as well as cuisses. 

Are Guelfs and Ghibellines; and this is 

Renewal of the feud they hold. 

Firm in transmitted hate they anchor. 

And show implacably their rancor: 

Now far and wide the noise hath rolled. 

At last, the Devils find a hearty 



234 Faust, 

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,) 



III. 

THE RIVAL EMPEROR'S TENT. 

t 

Throne: Rich Surroundings. 
Havequick. Speedbooty. 

Speedbooty. 
So, we are here the first, I see! 

Havequick. 
No raven flies so swift as we. 

Speedbooty. 

O, how the treasure-piles extend! 
Where shall I once begin? where end? 

. Havequick. 

But all the space is full! And now 
I know not what to take, I vow! 

Speedbooty. 

This carpet is the thing I need! 
My couch is often hard indeed. 

Havequick. 

Here h^ngs a morning-star, so strong, 
The like of which I 've wanted long. 



Act IV, Scene III, 235 

Speedbooty. 

This crimson mantle, bound with gold, 
Is like the one my dreams foretold. 

HavEQUICK {taking the weapou). 

With this, a man is quickly sped; 
One strikes him dead, and goes ahead. 
Thou art already laden so, 
And nothing right thy sack can show. 
This rubbish, rather, here forsake, 
And one of yonder caskets take! 
The army's modest pay they hold. 
Their bellies full of purest gold. 

Speedbooty. 

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 lies the red gold in a heap! 

Quick, rake and take what thou canst keep! 

Speedbooty {crouching doun). 

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.) 



236 Faust, 

The apron has a hole, ah woe! 
Wherever thou dost walk or stand, 
Thou sowest treasure on the land.^^7 

Guardsmen {of our Emperor). 

What seek ye here with wanton eyes? 
Ye rummage the Imperial prize! 

Havequick. 

We hazarded our limbs for pay, 
And now we take our share of prey. 
In hostile tents 't is always so, 
And we are soldiers too, you know. 

Guardsmen. 

Among our troops he comes to grief 
Who 's both a soldier and a thief: 
Who serves our Emperor fair and free, 
Let him an honest soldier be! 

Havequick. 

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. 

{To Speedbooty.) 

With what thou hast, the coast we '11 clear: 
As guests we are not welcome here. 

\ExeunU 

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. 

Third. 

Something there was disturbed my sight, — 
A flash: I could not see aright. 



Act IV, Scene III, 237 

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. ^^9 

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. 
The Conquered yielded, scourged by Scorn's immor- 
tal rod; 



238 Faust, 

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 

inspection , 
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 light the place, 

for thee. 
Thou art the highest now of all the house-retainers 



Act JV, Scene II L 239 

Whose strife makes service bad, -^ the threateners 

and complainers : 
Let thy example be an honored sign to these, 
How they the Prince and Court, and all, should 

seek to please! 

Arch-Chamberlain. 

To speed thy high design, thy grace is fair precursor: 
The Better to assist, and injure not the Worser, — 
Be frank, yet cunning not, and calm without deceit! 
If thou but read my heart , I 'm honored as is meet» 
But let my fancy now to festal service hasten! 
Thou goest to the board, I bear the golden basin^ 
And hold thy rings for thee, that on such blissful 

days 
Thy hands may be refreshed, as I beneath thy gaze. 

Emperor. 

Too serious am I still, to plan such celebration; 
Yet be it so! We need a glad inauguration. 

{To the Third.) 

I choose thee Arch-High-Steward ! Therefore hence- 
forth be 

Chase, poultry-yard, and manor subject unto thee! 

Give me at all times choice of dishes I delight in, 

As with the month they come, and cooked with 

appetite 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 re- 
asons 
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. 

Emperor {To the Fourth). 

Since here , perforce , we plan but feasts, and each is 

sharer. 



240 Faust, 

Be thou for me transformed, young hero, to Cup- 
bearer ! 

Arch Cup-Bearer, take heed, that all those vaults 

of mine 

Richly replenished be with noblest taps of wine! 

Be temperate thyself, howe'er temptation presses, 

Nor let occasion's lure mislead thee to excesses! 

Arch Cup-Bearer. 

My Prince, the young themselves, if trust in them 

be shown. 
Are, ere one looks around, already men full-grown. 
I at the lordly feast shall also take my station. 
And give thy sideboard's pomp the noblest decoration 
Of gorgeous vessels, golden, silver, grand to see; 
Yet first the fairest cup will I select for thee, — 
A clear Venetian glass, good cheer within it waiting, 
Helping the taste of wine, yet ne'er intoxicating. 
One oft confides too much on such a treasured store: 
Thy moderation, though. High Lord, protects thee 

more. 

Emperor. 

What, in this earnest hour, for you have I intended. 
From valid mouth confidingly you 've comprehended. 
The Emperor's word is great, his gift is therefore 

sure, 
But needs, for proper force, his written signature; 
The high sign-manual fails. Here, for commission 

needful, 
I see the right man come, of the right moment 

heedful. 
{Tlie 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. 
Thou seest four Princes here! To them we 've just 

expounded 



Act IV, Scene Iff, 241 

How next our House and Court shall be more stably 

founded. 
Now, all the realm contains, within its bounds en- 
closed, 
Shall be, with weight and power, upon Ye Five im- 
posed ! 
Your landed wealth shall be before all others splendid ; 
Therefore at once have I j^our 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 in- 
vasion : 
Then be it clearly fixed, that you unhindered use 
Whatever 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 be- 
hind. 
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 fonn, 
That so may end in peace what here began in stonn! 
Faust. IL i(> 



242 Faust. 

Arch- Chancellor. 

With pride profound, yet humbly, as our guise 

evinces, 
Behold , before thee bowed , the first of earthly princes 1' 
So long the faithful blood our living veins shall fill,. 
We are the body which obeys thy lightest will. 

Empsror. 

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 

treasure , 
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 r 
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. 

[l^e 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? 



Act /K. Scene II L 243 

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, 
AVhen newly crowned, thou didst the wizard liberate.'5o 
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 ex- 
tended , 
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. 



244 Faust. 

Archbishop. 

First be the spot profane, where sin was perpetrated, 
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 stnicture spreads, the transept stands 

exalted; 
Joy of Believers, then, the nave is lifted, vaulted; 
And while they press with zeal within the portals 

grand , 
The first clear call of bells is swept across the land, 
Pealed from the lofty towers that heavenwards have 

striven: 
The penitent draws near, new life to him is given. 
The consecration-day — O, may it soon be sent!« — 
Thy presence then shall be the highest ornament. 

Emperor. 

So great a work shall be my pious proclamation 
To praise the Lord our God, and work mine ex- 
piation. 
Enough! I feel, e'en now, how high my thoughts 

aspire. 
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 ieave, but turns hack again at the dorn-). 

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. 



Act JV, Scene III. 245 

Moreover, we shall want — here, most, we claim 

assistance — 
Lumber, and lime, and slate, and such like, from a 

distance. 
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 

{returning 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. 

Archbishop. 

Who patient is, and right, his day shall yet arise. 
Your word for us remains, and makes secure our 

trover! 

\Exit, 

Emperor {solus), 
] might as well, as last, make all the Empire over! 



ACT v:^' 

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 seal 
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 (^ /////f ^vontafi, very olii). 

Gently, stranger! lest thou cumber 
Rest, whereof my spouse hath need! 
He but gains from longest slumber 
Strength for briefest waking deed. 



Ad V. Scene I. 247 

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 Hnsbmid appears,) 

Thou, Philemon, who so boldly 
Drew my treasure from the wave? 
From your fire, so quickly burning. 
From your silver-sounding bell, 
■Changed my doom, to fortune turning, 
When the dread adventure fell. 
Forth upon the sand-hills stealing, 
Let me view the boundless sea! 
Let me pray, devoutly kneeling, 
Till my burdened heart be free! 

{He ivalks fonvard itpoft the dim'tis.) 

Philemon {to Baucis). 

Haste, and let the meal be dighted 
'Neath the garden's blooming trees 1 
Let him go, and be affrighted! 
He '11 believe not what he sees. 

{FoUaivsy 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. 
Wise lords set their serfs in motion, 
Dikes upraised and ditches led, 
Minishing the rights of Ocean, 
Lords to be in Ocean's stead. 



243 Faust, 

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. 



II. 

IN THE LITTLE GARDEN. 

The Three at the Table. 

Baucis {to the stranger). 

Art 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. 



JT" 



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? 



Act V, Scene II. 249 

Gave the mandate not the herald, 
Tnimpeting, 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, '54 
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! 



250 Faust, 

III. 

PALACE. 

Spacious Pleasure-Garden: broad, straightly-cut 

Canal. 

Faust [in ex ire me old age, ^valking about , meditative). 

Lynceus, the Warder 

{through tJie speaking-tfumpet). 

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. 

{T/ie tittle hdl 7'ijigs ou the doiftts.) 
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: ^55 
The brown old hut, the linden-cluster, 
The crumbling chapel, are not mine. 
If there I wished for recreation, 
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! 



Act V. Scene III, 251 

How richly, on its rapid track, 

Tower chest and casket, bale and sack! 

<(/4 splendid Galley , richly and brilliantly laden with the prodtic- 

tions of Foreign Countries.) 

Mephistopheles. The Three Mighty Men. 

Chorus. 

Here we have landed: 
Furl the sail! 
Hail to the Master, 
Patron, hail! 

{Tliey disembark: the goods are brought as/tore.) 

Mephistopheles. 

We 've proved our worth in many ways, 

Delighted, if the Patron praise! 

We sailed away with vessels t\vain. 

With twenty come to port again. ^"»^ 

Of great successes to relate. 

We only need to show our freight. 

Free is the mind on Ocean free: 

Who there can ponder sluggishly? 

You only need a rapid grip: 

You catch a fish, you seize a ship; 

And when you once are lord of three, 

The fourth is grappled easily; 

The fifth is then in evil plight; 

You have the Power, and thus the Right 

You count the JV/ial, 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! 



252 Faust, 

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 

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, '57 

And I can best to them attend. 

{Jl'he cargo is reim/ved.) 

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; 



Act F. Scene III. 253 

And from the shore, to swifter wakes, 
The willing sea the vessels takes. 
Speak, then, that here, from thy proud seat, 
Thine ami may clasp the world complete. 
Here, on this spot, the work was planned; 
Here did the first rough cabin stand; 
A little ditch was traced, a groove, 
Where now the feathered oar-blades move. 
Thy high intent, thy servants' toil, 
From land and sea have won the spoil. 
From here — 

Faust. 

Still that accursed Here! 
To me a burden most severe. 
To thee, so clever, I declare it, — 
It gives my very heart a sting; 
It is impossible to bear it! 
Yet shamed am I, to say the thing. 
The old ones, there, should make concession; 
A shady seat would I create: 
The lindens, not my own possession. 
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!*58 
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. 



254 Faust, 

Mephistopheles. 

'T is natural that so great a spite 
Thy life should thus imbitter quite. 
Who doubts it? Every noble ear, 
Disgustet, 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 bim, 
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. 

Mephistopheles. 

Why be annoyed, when thou canst well despise them? 
Wouldst thou not long since colonize them? 

Faust. 

Then go, and clear them out with speed! 
Thou knowest the fair estate, indeed, 
I chose for the old people's need. 

Mephistopheles. 

We '11 set them down on other land; 
Ere you can look, again they '11 stand: 
When they 've the violence outgrown, 
Their pleasant dwelling shall atone. 

(He whistles shrilly,) 

The Three enter, 

Mephistopheles. 

Come, as the Master bids, and let 
The fleet a feast to-morrow get! 



Act V, Scene IV. 255 



The Three. 



Reception bad the old Master gave: 
A jolly feast is what we crave. 

Mephistopheles. 

{ad spectatoi'cs). 

It happens as it happed of old: 
Still Naboth's vineyard we behold! '59 



IV. 
DEAD OF NIGHT. 

Lyxceus, the Warder 

{singing on the watch-taiver 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. 
Yet still it was fair! 
{Pause.) 

Not alone that I delight me. 
Have I here been stationed so: — 
What a hofror comes, to fright me^ 



256 Faust. 

From the darksome world below! 
Sparks of fire I see outgushing 
Through the night of linden-trees; 
Stronger yet the glow is flushing, 
Fanned to fury by the breeze. 
Ah! the cabin burns, unheeded, 
Damp and mossy though it stand: 
Quick assistance here is needed, 
And no rescue is at hand! 
Ah, the good old father, mother, 
Else so careful of the fire. 
Doomed amid the smoke to smother! — 
The catastrophe how dire! 
Now the blackening pile stands lonely 
In the flames that redly swell; 
If the good old folk be only 
Rescued from the burning hell! 
Dazzling tongues the crater launches 
Through the leaves and through the branches; 
Withered boughs, at last ignited, 
Break, in burning, from the tree: 
Why must I be thus far-sighted? 
Witness such calamity? 
Now the little chapel crashes 
'Neath a branch's falling blow; 
Soon the climbing, spiry flashes 
Set the tree-tops in a glow. 
Down to where the trunks are planted 
Burn they like a crimson dawn. 

Loug pause. Chant. 

What erewhile the eye enchanted 
With the centuries is gone. 

Faust 

{on the balcony, tffivards the downs). 

Above, what whining lamentation? 
The word, the tone, too late I heed. 
My warder wails: I feel vexation 
At heart, for this impatient deed. ^ 



Act V, Scene IV. 257 

Yet be the lindens extirpated, 
Till haJf-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 feelipg, 
Shall there enjoy their latter days., 

MephiStopheles and the Three {bgio^v). 

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 brocken 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 consums the three. 

Faust. 

Deaf unto my commands were ye! 
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! 

Faust. II. \*\ 



258 Faust, 

If you are bold, and face the strife, 

Stake house and home, and then — your life! 

\Exeujit, 
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? 



V. 

MIDNIGHT/6X 

Four Gray Wmnen enter. 

First. 
My 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 husiness within. 

Want. 
I shrink to a shadow. 



Act V. Scene V. 259 

Guilt. 

I shrink unto naught. 

Necessity. 
The pampered from me turn the face and the thought. 

Care. 

Ye 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 over 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 ! ^^^ 

Ere in the Obscure I sought it, such was I, — 

in* 



260 Faust. 

Ere I had coursed the world so wickedly. 

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. 

Well, — here am I. 

Faust. 
Avaunt ! 

Care. 

I am where I should be. 
Faust. 

(first ang?y , 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: 
Though transformed to mortal eyes, 
Grimmest power I exercise. 
On the land, or ocean yonder, 
I, a dread companion, wander. 



Act V. Scene V, 261 

Always found, yet never sought, 
Praised or cursed, as I have wrought! 
Hast thou 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 't was grand, com- 
pletely , 
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 cloulds of peers a place expecteth! 
Firm let him stand, and look around him well! 
This World means something to the Capable. '^4 
Why needs he through Eternity to wend? 
He here acquires what he can apprehend. 
Thus let him wander down his earthly day; 
When spirits haunt, go quietly his way; 
In marching onwards, bliss and torment find, 
Though, every moment, with unsated mind! 

Care. 

Whom I once possess, shall never 
Find the world worth his endeavor: 
Endless gloom around him folding, 
Rise nor set of sun beholding, 
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. 



202 Faust. 

He postpones it till the morrow; 
To the Future only cleaveth: 
Nothing, therefore, he achieveth. 

Faust. 

Desist! So shalt thou not get hold of me! 
I have no mind to hear such drivel. 
Depart! Thy gloomy litany 
Might even befool the wisest man to evil. 

Care. 

Shall he go, or come? — how guide him? 
Prompt decision is denied him; 
Midway on the trodden highway 
Halting, he attempts a by-way; 
Ever more astray, bemisted, 
Everything beholding twisted. 
Burdening himself and others, 
Taking breath, he chokes and smothers. 
Though not choked, in Life not sharing, 
Not resigned, and not despairing! 
Such incessant rolling, spinning, — 
Painful quitting, hard beginning, — 
Now constraint, now liberation, — 
Semi-sleep, poor recreation, 
Firmly in his place insnare him 
And, at last, for Hell prepare him! 

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 noi that I shall recognize it! 



Act V. Scene VI. 263 

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 fa^e.) 
Faust {blinded). 

The Night seems deeper now to press around me, 

But in my inmost spirit all is light; ^^5 

I rest not till the finished work hath crowned me: 

God's Word alone confers on me 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. 



VI. 

GREAT OUTER COURT OF THE PALACE. 

Torches. 
MepHISTOPHELES {ift advance t as Overseer). 

Come here, come here! Come on, come on! 
Ye Lemures, loose-hung creatures! 
Of sinew, ligament, and bone 
Your knitted semi-natures I 

Lemures (/;/ Chorus). 

Without delay are we at hand, 
And half 't is our impression 
That this cqpcerns a spacious land, 
Whoreof we '11 have possession. 



264 Faust. 

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. 

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-r- 



Act V, See fie VI, ' 265 

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 ! 

Mephistophfxes . 
Here! 

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 settied on the hill's firm base. 

Created by the bold, industrious race. 

A land like Paradise here, round about: 

Up to the brink the tide may roar without, 

And though it gnaw, to burst with force the limit, 

By common impulse all unite to hem it. 

Yes! to this thought I hold with firm persistence; 

The last result of wisdom stamps it true: 

He only earns his freedom and existence, 



266 Faust. 

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! 

Then dared I hail the Moment fleeing: 

"^//, still delay — thou art so fair T 

The traces cannot, of mine earthly being. 

In geons 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 

groujid.) 

Mephistopheles. 

No joy could sate him, and suffice no bliss! 

To catch but shifting shapes was his endeavor: 

The latest, poorest, emptiest Moment — this, — 

He wished to hold it fast forever. 

Me he resisted in such vigorous wise, 

But Time is lord, on earth the old man lies./^ 

The clock stands still — 

Chorus. 

Stands still! silent as midnight, now! 
The index falls. 

Mephistopheles. 

It falls; and it is finished, here! 

Chorus. 
'T is past! 

Mephistopheles. 

— Past! a stupid word. 
If past, then why? 

Past and pure Naught, complete monotony! 
What good for us, this endlessly creating? — 
What is created then annihilating? 
^^And now it ^s past!" Why read a page so twisted? 



Act V. Scene VI. 267 

'T is just the same as if it ne'er existed, 

Yet goes in cricles round as if it had, however: 

I 'd rather choose, instead, the Void forever. 

SEPULTURE. ^70 

Lemur. Solo, 

Who then hath built the house so ill, 
With shovel and with spade? 

Lemures. Chorus. 

For thee, dull guest, in hempen vest, 
It all too well was made. 

Lemur. Solo. 

Who then so ill hath decked the hall? 
No chairs, nor table any! 

Lemures. Chorus. 

'T was borrowed to return at call: 
The creditors are so many. 

Mephistopheles . 

The Body lies, and if the Spirit flee, 

I '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 soul her house; 

I kept good watch, and like the nimblest mouse. 

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-^ 



268 Faust. 

The elements, in hostile, fierce expansion, 
Drive her, at last, disgracefully from it. 
And though I fret and worry till I 'm weary, 
Wheni Howl and Where? remains the fatal query: 
Old Death is now no longer swift and strong; 
Even the Whether has been doubtful long. 
Oft I beheld with lust the rigid members: 
'T was only sham; Life kindled from its embers. 

(Fantastic , whirling gestures of conjuration.) 

Come on! Strike up the double quick, anew. 

With straight or crooked horns, ye gentlemen infernal! 

Of the old Devil-grit and kernel, 

And bring at once the Jaws of Hell with you! 

Hell hath a multitude of jaws, in short, ^^i 

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 short, straight horns ^ 

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 

¥\rHt with my stamp and seal the thing I '11 visit, 



Act V, Scene VI, 269 

Then fling it to the whirling, fiery storm! 

The lower parts be well inspected, 

Ye Bloats! perform your duty well: 

If there the Soul her seat selected 

We cannot yet exactly tell. 

Oft in the navel doth she stay: 

Look out for that, she thence may slip away! 

{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 anns, with talons sharp and pliant, 

That ye may seize the fluttering fugitive! 

In her old home discomforted she lies. 

And Genius, surely, seeks at once to rise. ^73 

{ Gloiy from above , ofi the right.) 

The Heavenly Host. 

Envoys, unhindered. 
Heavenly kindred, 
Follow us here! 
Sinners forgiving. 
Dust to make living! 
Lovingest features 
Unto all creatures 
Show in your swaying, 
Delaying career! 

Mephistopheles. 

Discords I hear, a harsh, disgusting strumming. 

Flung from above with the unwelcome Day; 

'T is that emasculate and bungled humming 

Which Pious Cant delights in, every way. 

You know how we, atrociously contented. 

Destruction for the human race have planned: 

But the most infamous that we 've invented 

Is just the thing their prayers demand. ^74 

The fops, they come as hypocrites, to fool us! < 

Thus many have they snatched, before our eyes: 

With our own weapons they would overrule us; 



270 Faust, 

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), ^^i-i 

Roses, ye glowing ones. 
Balsam-bestowing ones! 
Fluttering, quivering. 
Sweetness delivering, 
Branching unblightedly. 
Budding delightedly. 
Bloom and be seen! 
Springtime declare him. 
In purple and green! 
Paradise bear him. 
The Sleeper serene! 

MepHISTOPHELES {to the Satans). 

Why do ye jerk and squat? Is this Hell's rule? 

Stand to your ground, and let them sprinkle! 

Back to his place each gawky fool! 

They think perhaps, with such a flowery crinkle, 

As if 't were snow, the Devil's 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, bum! 
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, 



Act V. Scene VI, 271 

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. 
Why flutter thus? Off with you, quick! — 
Like pitch and sulphur on my neck they stick. 

Chorus of Angels. '77 

What not appertaineth 
To you, cease to share it! 
What inwardly paineth, 
Refuse ye to bear it! 
If it press in with might, 
Use we our stronger right: 
Love but the Loving 
Leads to the Light! 

Mephistopheles. 

My head, heart, liver, by the flames are rent! 

An over-devilish element! — 

JSharper 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? 



272 Faust. 

With them am I not sworn to competition? 

The sight of themi 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 ?*78 — 

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. 

As though a thousand times ere this we 'd met! 

So surreptitiously catlike-lustful: 

With every glance ye Ve 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! 
{JThe Angels, coming fonvard, 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 I 

The serious air befits you well, awhile. 

But I should like, just once, to see you smile; 

That were, for me, an everlasting rapture. 



Act V, Scene VI. 



273 



I mean, as lovers look, the heart to c'aptiire; 
About the mouth a simper there must be. 
Thee, tall one, as enticing I 11 admit thee; 
The priestly mien doest 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! 

Chorus of Angels. 

Love still revealing, 
Flames, become clearer! 
All, cursed with error, 
Truth be their healing! 
Glad self-retrieval 
Free them from Evil, 
In the all-folding Breast, 
Blessed, to rest! 

MePHISTOPHELES ^collecting himself). 

How is 't with me? — Like Job , the boils have cleft me 

From head to foot, so that myself I shun; 

Yet triumph also, when my self-inspection 's done, — 

When self and tribe I have confided in. 

The noble Devil-parts, at least, are left me! 

This love- attack 's a rash upon the skin. 

Burned out already are the scurvy fires. 

And one and all I damn you, as the case requires! 



Chorus of Angels. ^79 

Hallowed glories! 

Round whom they brood, 

Wakes unto being 

Of bliss with the Good. 

Join ye, the Glorified, 

Rise to your goal! 



Taust. IL 



\% 



2 74 Faust, 

* 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! 

They with their booty heavenwards are sailing; 

Thence on this grave they cast their greedy eyes I 

My rare, great treasure they have peculatet: 

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. 



VII. 

MOUNT AIN-GORGES, FOREST, ROCK, 

DESERT. 

Holy Anchorites,*^' 
Divided in ascending planes , posted among the ravines^ 

Chorus and Echo. 

Forests are waving grand. 
Rocks, they are huge at hand. 



Act V, Scene VII. 275 

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 '^^ 

{havering up ami d(nvn). 

Endless ecstatic fire, 
Glow of the pure desire. 
Pain of the pining breast. 
Rapture of God possessed! 
Arrows, transpierce ye me. 
Lances, coerce ye me. 
Bludgeons, so batter me. 
Lightnings, so shatter me. 
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; 




276 Faust, 

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 blunded senses. 
As by the sharpest fetter-smart ! 
O God, soothe Thou my thoughts bewildered, 
Enlighten Thou my needy heart! 

Pater Seraphicus. "^4 

{Middle Re^^,) 

What a cloud of morning hovers 
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 SERAPmcus. 

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 tJiem into hinisel/.)'^^ 



Act V, Sc eile VII, 277 

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! 

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 

{soaring in the higher atmosphere , bearing the immortal part of 

Faust). 

The noble Spirit now is free. 
And saved from evil scheming: 
Whoe'er aspires unweariedly 
Is not beyond redeeming. '^^ 



NOTES. 



"Both Parts are symmetrical in their structure. The First 
moves with deliberate swiftness from Heaven through the World 
to Hell: the Second 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 assimi- 
lation of the Past. 

"In regard to substance, the First Part begins religiously, 
becomes metaphysical, and terminates ethically. The Second 
Part begins ethically; becomes aesthetic, and terminates reli- 
giously. In one. Love and Knowledge are confronted with 
each other: in the other. Practical Activity and Art, the Ideal 
of the Beautiftil. 

"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 Atone- 
ment. " 

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 Mephisto- 
pheles, all his later torture of soul has been already suggested 
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 overcame 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. The healing 
process is symbolized in this opening scene, wherein the elves 
represent the delicate, misterious 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, possibly 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 vigilup, or night-watches, of 
the Romans, each of three hours; so that the whole, from six 



288 Faust. 

m 

in the evening until six in the morning, include both sunset and 
sunrise. I see no reason to suspect, in addition, a reference to 
Jean Paul's four phases of slumber, especially as the latter di- 
vision is rather fantastic than real, the phases of healthy slum- 
ber 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 vigilup. 
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 chant- 
ing of the verses by the alternate or collective voices of the 
elves was added, in view of the possible representation 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 counteract the tendency of his 
symbolism to become vague and formless. 

4. P^lih a crash the Light draws near. 

We may conjecture that Goethe had in his mind the Ro- 
spigliosi Aurora of Guido, which suggests noise and the sound 
of trumpets; but he also referred both to ancient myths and 
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 Mac- 
pherson's Ossian, "the rustling sun comes forth from his green- 
headed waves." Also in the German mediaeval poem of "Ti- 
turel," the sun is said to utter sounds sweeter than lutes and 
the songs of birds, on rising. The crash described 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 y grand, superttal. 

The Scene described is Swiss, and from the neighborhood 
of the Lake of the Four Forest Cantons. CJoethe's projected 
journey to Italy in I797 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 



Notes, 289 

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 renew- 
ed impression upon me, that I was tempted to embody in a 
poem the variety and richness of the scenery. In order there- 
fore, to add the proper interest and life to my description, 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, burled 
from the gorges upon the lake. Moreover, there was no lack 
of night and silence, and secret meetings on bridges and Alpine 
paths. 

**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 fulfilment of my 
plan, I finally made over my material to him, and he there- 
upon produced his admirable poem." 

**I stated," said Eckermann, "my impression, that the splen- 
did description of sunrise, written in terza rinia^ in the first 
scene of the Second Part of Faust, might have sprung from 
the memoires 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 terzinetti 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 illuminating 
Truth, which his human eyesight cannot endure. The sudden 
and complete fulfilment of a hope, he reflects, has the same be- 
wildering effect; and he hides himself "in youthful drapery" {^eU, 
in the original), since youth is content with an amazed accept- 

Faust. II. \^ 



290 Faust 

ance of the highest revelations of Life, without seeking to pe- 
netrate 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 in- 
spiring, 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. Shelley expresses 
exactly a similar thought in a different image: — 

"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 Schaff- 
hausen, we find the germ from which his thought grew: "The 
rainbow appeared in its greatest heauty: it stood with unmov- 
ing 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 hohen wir 
das Lehen*^ 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 dark- 
ness, 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 reverberates 
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 resumes, 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 possible 
qualities for losing his realm — in which, indeed, he afterwards 
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 land is 



Notes, 291 

without order and law, the judges themselves accomplices with 
the criminals, and all manner of crime is committed 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 without 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 ad- 
vance* 

"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 Coun- 
cillor 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 outlinesketch 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, Mephi- 
stopheles 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 Empe- 
ror. 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 accepts the proposition. 
Both betake themselves to the hall of audience and are recei- 
ved. 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 remains cold, yawns continually, and is 
on the point of terminating the interview. Mephistopheles per- 
ceives this in the nick of time, and comes to Faust's assistance,, 
as he had promised. He assumes the same form, and staxvd.% 



292 Faust, 

bodily before the Emperor as Faust, with latter's mantle, doublet, 
ruff, and the sword at his side. He now continues the con- 
versation, just where Faust left off; but with a very dif- 
ferent and much more brilliant result. He chatters, swag- 
gers, and prates so to the right and the left, hither and 
thither, of all things on earth and outside of it, that the Em- 
peror 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, indeed, he was not particularly ediued, 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 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 elab- 
oration to serve as the mere vehicle of Faust's introduction 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, and 
Härtung insists on finding in the lines p. resemblance, to Schil- 
ler'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 fragmentaiy comments on 
the action, and they also seem to have been partly designed 
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, 



Notes, 293 

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 fortimes; 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-ChieP) to the Elector of Würtemberg; of Arch-Treasurer to 
the Elector of Brunswick; and of Arch-Marshal to the Elector 
of Saxony. 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 his- 
torical period. The decadence of an Empire is necessary for 
the part assigned to Mephistopheles and the later impatience 
of Faust with his experience of "the greater world." 

II. The Saints and Knights are they. 

The satire in this passage — of which the Chancellor himself 
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 Paraliponiena 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? 

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 pu- 



294 Faust, 

nished; 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 latitude 
and longitude of the birth-place. The location of the sun, 
moon,, planets, and the signs of the zodiac in the different 
houses, was then ascertained. As each house represended a 
special human interest or passion, and each planet a special 
controlling force, the various combinations which thus arose fur- 
nished the material out of which the horoscope was constructed. 

The speech of the Astrologer, prompted by Mephistopheles, 
refers to the seven metals, to which the mediaeval alchemists 
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 acci- 
dentally 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 describes 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 subterranean 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 saJpetre where the claywalls stand. 

Old walls, especially in damp cellars and subterranean 
passages, become covered with an incrustation of salpetre, 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 



Notes, 295 

tartar, which may acquire such ' a consistency as to hold the 
liquid when the staves have rotted away. The wine thus be- 
comes its own cask, and preserves itself in a thick, oily state. 
It is then supposed to possess wonderful medicinal powers. 

16. Carnival Masquerade. 

In the "Carnival Masquerade" we reach the first entangling 
«episode of the Second Part of Faust. That the entire scene 
is an allegory, is evident; and we can scarcely be mistaken in 
-assuming its chief motive to be the representation of the human 
race in its social and political organization. This basis has 
been accepted, almost unanimously, by the German critics; but 
nipon it each has built his own individual theory of the deve- 
lopment of the idea through the characters introduced. Whether 
intentionally or unconsciously, Goethe himself has added 
not a little to the confusion by introducing, now and then, a 
«double (possibly even a triple) symbolism: therefore, although 
we may feel tolerably secure in regard to the elements which 
lie 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 
wth which I commenced the work, — that of not adding an- 
other to the many theories already in existence. The reader, 
nevertheless, requires, if not an infallible clew, at least an ade- 
<]uate 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 critics and com- 
mentators, — to perceive, at least, the concentric meanings in 
which the allegorical forms are enveloped, — he will probably 
■grow weary long before this digression returns again to the 
•original course of the drama. 

The design of the Carnival Masquerade is sinular 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 
Aarrow 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 comprehensive 
picture of Human Life, as it is moulded hy Society and Go- 
vernment. Schiller, to whom Goethe confided his literary plans 
more fully than to any other friend, foresaw the difficulty to 
"be encountered. He wrote (in June 1797): "A source of an- 
jciety 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 example : Faust must necessarily, to 
my thinking, be conducted into the active life of the world, and 



296 Faust. 

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 in- 
dicated externally, by another," was unable, in the end, to select 
any detachable phase of Society, and therefore attempted to 
present the elements which enter into all human association, 
under the form of a mask. We are first introduced to types 
of the classes of persons who are found in Society; then to 
the moral elements, represented by the Graces, the Parese, and 
the Furies; the symbol of a wisely organized government fol- 
lows, with an interlude in which Poetry appears as the com- 
panion of wealth. The debasing 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 hu- 
man nature, and the Carnival closes with a catastrophe in 
which most of the critics see Revolution symbolized. 

This is the simplest and most obvious outline of the scene. 
At every step, however, there are additional reference and 
suggestions, the most important of which are explained in the 
succeeding Notes. The views of German commentatores are 
tolerably accordant in regard to Goethe's general design; but» 
when they come to particulars, they strike so many individual 
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 another group who set forth those 
moral features of life which are most influenced by external 
possessions. The State, prudently governed and made prosper- 
ous by the wise activity of its Ruler, is then presented to us 
in an allegorical picture, whereto the concluding symbol of a 
State overthrown by the selfishness and weakness of a self-in- 
dulgent Ruler forms an explanatory contrast." 

Schnetger divides the scene into five parts: I. "A picture 
of the cheerful, rich garden of Life." II. A sketch of the 
disorganizing influences in human society, which require to be 
governed; of the beneficient powers which have lost their sway 
in our modem world, and of the darker elements which have 
taken their place. III. A representation of a well-governed 
State. IV. The worship of Mammon in human 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. 

Härtung considers that the forms and forces of social life 
are drectly presented, and finds a class oi persons^ not of 
ideas, behind each mask. He seems to include the elephant 



\ 



Notes, 297 

and its attendants (generally accepted as the symbol of the 
State) among the social allegories, but sees, in the conclusion, 
the overthrow of civil order. 

Deycks and Kostlin reject the idea of a complete and con- 
sistent allegory of Society and Government. The latter, more- 
over, gives a different explanation of the final catastrophe, 
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 following 
scenes is announced and allegorically hinted, and which, to the 
dispassionate mind, if not exactly the most difficult to be com- 
prehended, is yet one of the most entangled and unrefreshing 
portions of the whole poem. Here the diction first displays 
all those ostentatious sin^gularides , which have brought the Se- 
cond Part of Faust into such bad repute with a part of the 
reading world. Here the poet first manifests, 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 comprehiension and proper effect of the 
whole, — but rich material for the interpreters who are skilled 
in aesthetic filigreework." 

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 separate 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 manifested 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. 

1 7. Garden-Girls. 

The Masquerade is properly opened by the lightest, gayest, 
and most attractive element of Society, — the young, immarried 
women. Goethe took the fioraje of Florence (not the present 
race!) as types of grace, beauty, aud that art which seems art- 
lessness. These qualities • are the "flowers which blossom all 
the year." Härtung, 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 fo- 
regoing description of the needs of the Court, the simple, joyous, 
and enjoying nature of the race. The picturesque character of 



298 Faust. 

the poetry and the sententious grace of the address make this 
one of the most agreeable groups." — Leutbecher. 

18. Olive-Bran6h, 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 comple- 
mentary male characters. Schnetger, however, gives a different 
interpretation : "Joy and enjoyment flourish under the sheltering 
branch of Olive, the certain warrant of peace. Under its sha- 
dow, in the Garden of Life, Nature creates the Golden Ear for 
the one who desires the Beautiful 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, bring 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, bom B. C. 390, the disciple of Plato 
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 fascinates 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 rose- 
buds which she carries are temporarily concealed, and then sud- 
denly produced as a contrast, exhibiting the superior charms 
of sweet, timid, modest maidenhood over the clamour of ac- 
quired feminine art. 

Hartimg says: "The Fancy- Wreath and the Fancy Nosegay 
mean to unite Art and Poetry, which create a second artificial 
nature within Nature; and especially the latter, the poetic tern- 



Notes, 299 

perament, seeks a heart capable of recognition 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 distich : — 

Thou to the blooming maiden mayest be likened, O Rosebud! 
'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 posi- 
tive 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 secondary qualities; the decision 
which follows mutual attraction 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 Gk>ethe'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 cha- 
racters, 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, 
«nperverted attraction of the sexes in youth, which is the pri- 
mitive cause and charm of Society, to the introduction of other 
and disturbing elements. 

The game alluded to in the third stanza {Dritter Mann), I 
only know by its oW 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 an- 
other name. 

The stage directions, in brackets, following this passage, as 
well as those on page 26, were added by Riemer, under Goe- 
the's direction. They thus appeared in the twelfth volmne of 
Goethe's Complete Works, in 1828, and it is understood 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 Düntzer charges, but rather wea- 
riness and the absence of fortunate moods, on the part of the 
octogenarian poet. 



300 Faust, 

A theatrical atmosphere undoubtedly pervades, not only this, 
but many other scenes of the Second Part of Faust, and the 
£nglish reader ivho may be not always agreeably conscious 
of this circumstance, should bear in mind that Goethe's long 
management of the Weimar theatre, and his constant produc- 
tion of plays, masques, and vaudevilles (many of them of an 
"occasional" character), led him to consider, v^hile writing, the 
possible representation of the drama upon the German stage. 
Prince Radzivill had already composed music for the First 
Part in 1814,) and at the very time when Goethe was pre- 
paring the Carnival Masquerade for publication, in 182S, Karl 
von Holtei was engaged 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. 

22. WoOD-CUTTERS. PULCINELLI. PARASITES. 

The ruder and less attractive — nay, frequently repellant — 
elements of Socrety are represented in these three classes. The 
interpretation of each will depend upon the circumstance, whe- 
ther we give them a purely social, or also a political character* 
In the former case, the Wood-Cutters are typical of those co- 
arse-natured, brusque individuals, who pride themselves on dis- 
legarding the social graces and proprieties; the Pulcinelli are 
the obsequious idlers, triilers, 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 vi- 
sible 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 Tmnslatum, 



Notes, 301 

23. Drunken Man. 

Goeth€*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 
mnst Have necessarily closed the group with criminals instead 
of sensualists. Düntzer, nevertheless, insists that this and the 
three preceding masks represent "the slavish dependence of 
men upon external possessions"! But Leutbecher surpasses all 
other commentators in asserting that the Wood-Cutters, the 
Puldnelli 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 counterpoise to the Ideal"! ! 

24. The Herald announces varimts Ihets. 

From this point to. the appearance of the Graces, we have 
the skeleton of an unwritten scene, the character of which 
may partly be conjectured from Goethe's expressions to Ecker- 
mann. 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 life 
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. Un- 
der 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, Merim^e published his La Guzla: 
Pbeiies Ilfyriques, of which Goethe wrote: **The poet, as a ge- 
nuine Romanticist, calls up the ghostliest forms; even his loca- 
lities create a dread. Churches by night, graveyards, crossroads, 
hermits* huts, rocks and ravines uncannily surround the reader, 
"and then appear the newly dead, threatening and terrifying, 
Alluring and beckoning as shapes or flames, and the most hor- 
rid vampirism, with all its concomitants.'* 

The new Romantic school in France, and especially its 
leader, Victor Hugo, aroused Goethe's keenest wrath. He cal- 
led Ndtre Dante de Paris "an abominable book!" and thus ex- 
pressed himself to Eckermann: "In place of the beautiful sub- 
stance 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 pi- 
quant! They produce an effect! But after the public has 
once eaten of this strongly peppered dish, and become accu- 
stomed to the taste, it will demand more and stronger ingre- 



3© 2 Faust. 

dients." Herein is an explanation of the reference to the Gre* 
cian 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 giving» ' 
receiving, and thanking or acknowledging, not in the narrower 
sense of an act, but as symbolical of the intercourse of men, — 
the communication of one nature to another, the impressions* 
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 H^e* 
mone (one of the two Graces revered by the Athenians), per- 
haps 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 perma- 
nence in human intercourse. Härtung considers that they re- 
present the ^'necessities'* to which Life must submit, and Düntzer 
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 carefiilly 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, announces, 
that the shears have been given to her, because Atropos pro- 
longed 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, inexorable idea of Fate is 
banished from modern society; others that the needfiil mode- 
ration and self-control will maJce the threatening shears unne* 
cessary. 

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. Goeth& 
changes the Erinnys of the Greeks, who were represented as. 
fierce, balefiil figures, with snakes and torches in their hands^ 



Notes. 305 

into fair, young, wheedling creatures, seemingly harmless as do- 
ves. His design cannot be for a moment doubted. The un- 
resting Alecto of modem society is the insinuation that breeds 
mistrust, the slander that wears an innocent face, the power 
that in a thousand ways thrusts itself between approaching hearts 
and drives them apart. Megaera typifies the alienation which 
arises from selfish whims, from indifferent or satiety; and Tisi- 
phone alone, the avenging Fury, remains true to her ancient 
name and office. 

28. And here Asrnodi as my follower lead, 

Asmodi (or Ashmedai)^ the Destroyer, was an evil demon 
of the Hebrews. He is mentioned in the Talmud, and Jewish 
tradition reports that he once drove Salomon from his kingdom. 
Since, in the Book of Tobias, he kills in succession the seven 
husbands of Sara, he has been credited with a special enmity 
to married happiness. In this quality he appears as the follo- 
wer of Meggera. As "Asmodeus" we find him in Wieland's 
Oberon, and the Diable Boiteux of Lesage, through which he 
is almost as widely known as Mephistopheles. 

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 attack 
a political meaning to the coming masks, rather than with those 
who would include the latter in the representation of society. 
The former interpretation is certainly the more simple and 
complete. The elephant is Civil Government, or The State, 
as another form of organized human life. He is guided by 
Prudence, while on either hand walk Fear and Hope, in fet- 
ters. 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 co- 
lossal organism, 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 attractive aspects of life and then advances to the opposite. 
• Eckermann reports a conversation which he had with Goe- 
the in December, 1829, concerning in 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.' 



304 Faust. 

** *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 Vic- 
tory 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 Carnival, 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 Pru- 
dence have less point and importance than any others in the 
Masquerade. 

30. Zoülo-Thersites. 

Goethe takes Thersites from the Iliad ^ and tmites him to 
the Thracian barrator, ZoUus, who, in the third century before 
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. 

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. 

31. 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.'* 

/>. /^ Mac'Carthy's Translation, 

The appropriateness of this costume is explained in the follow- 
ing note. 



Notes, 305 

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). Düntzer and some other German writers con- 
sider 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 I am Poesy! 

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 Charioteer?" 

"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 bom xmtil the third act?' 

** *EAiphorion,* replied Goethe, *is not a human but an alle- 
gorical being. In him is personified Poetry, which is bound 
neither to time, place, nor person. The same spirit, who after- 
wards chooses to be Euphorion, appears here as the Boy Cha- 
rioteer, 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 
all^fory. The first and most direct interpretation is that which 
belongs to the characters as a portion of the masquerade. The 
Boy is not only Poetry, but the poetic element as it is mani- 
fested in all Art ; and we may therefore say that he represents 
the highest intellectual possessions, as Plutus represents mate- 
rial 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 (Ar- 
tist) is rich in proportion as he spends his own best goods — 
although Art and Taste esteem themselves wealthier 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 be- 
come 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 

Faust. II. ao 



3o6 Faust, 

of masks, Kngering awhile on one head, dying out instantly o» 
others, and very seldom rekindled into a temporary 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 
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 Masquerade, a thread taken 
from the regular course of the drama is also introduced, and 
lightly woven into the allegory. There is no difficulty in fol» 
lowing both, and we might, if it were really necessary, be sa- 
tisfied without looking further; but the conversation between 
Plutus and the Boy Charioteer, on pages 37 and 39, provo- 
kingly hints of an additional meaninig. 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 Müller, 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 as- 
sisted 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 
received from a careful study of the Helena (Act III.), that 



Notes. 307 

Euphorion is not really Byron, but Goethe himself in his poetic 
actiinty^ is justified by Goethe's declaration that the Boy Cha- 
rioteer and Euphorion are one, and also — as I shall endeavor 
to show in subsequent notes — the Honmnculus of the Classical 
Wolpui^s-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 harmonizes 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 
Homimculus 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 os- 
tentatiously exhibited wealth. His address to the women is 
suggested by the difference of gender between the ancient 
Latin word, avaritiaj which is feminine, and the German, der 
Geit, which is masculine. The Women are perhaps introduced 
here, instead of the former mixed crowd, because avarice 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 treasurechest , the action of the multitude, 
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, flick- 
ered and went out; but now the show of riches, which the 
Herald declares to be a cheat, a joke of Carnival, excites them 
to a maddening exhibition of greed. The action of Plutus, in 
driving back the crowd with his burning wand, appears to sym- 
bolize the usual termination of those popular excitements which 
have wealth for their object, — such golden bubbles, for instance, 
as the Mississippi scheme of Law, the railway mania in Eng- 
land, petroleiun in America, etc. The fury for sudden enrich- 
ment is followed by a general scorching. 

37. What will the lean fool do? 
The predominance of a coarse, material greed of gain in 



0.0 



% 



3o8 Faust, 

the people brings after it a general demoralization, the embo- 
diment 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 need not be de- 
scribed, and which express the natural consequences of wealth 
without culture and refinement. It seems probable, as many 
commentators have surmised, that Goethe had in view the con- 
dition of France under Louis XV. and XVI. Düntzer says: 
"He shows us how, in a period of material prosperity, the 
passion for wealth and indulgence increases, until it leads the 
people to the highest pitch of shameless immorality." 

38. They know not whitherward they ^re wending ^ 
Because they have not looked ahead. 

We now reach the last 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 repre- 
sents the revolutionary overthrow of a State, and they differ 
only in regard to the interpretation of the details. The "sa- 
vage hosts" are the masses of ignorant people, whose ruder 
qualities are presently typified under the Forms of Fauns, Sa- 
tyrs, and Gnomes. Since they lack that foresight which comes 
of intelligence and wider experience, they drift into Revolution 
without knowing whitherward they are wending. Schnetger 
thinks the Emperor takes the mask of Pan (the All), in the 
sense in which Louis XIV. declared: "L'Etat, c'est moil" Här- 
tung insists that the line **Full well I know what every one 
does not,* refers to Free-Masonry and its supposed connection 
with the French Revolution ! Düntzer 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 per- 
sonages of the Court. Kreyssig says: **They storm onwards 
like a savage host, the Emperor as Pan, his associates as 
Gnomes and Faims, collectively the representatives of rude na- 
tural forces and desires, in contrast to the spiritualized, Olym- 
pian forms of light, and when they rashly approach the fire 
and spirit fountain of Plutus, after their first, amazed admir- 
ation, they are properly tormented by the magic glow, although 
meanwhile only in sport. The part they play is more distin- 
guished and externally stately, but not much more dignified 



Notes, ' 309 

than that of the holiday carousers whom Mephistopheles so 
tricked in Auerbach's Cellar." 

39. Gnomes. 

Düntzer asserts that the Fauns represent unrestricted indul- 
gence 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 wealtii: and 
the Giants the stupid and stubborn nature of those counsellors 
who surround the throne and endeavor to crush every move- 
ment 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 Härtung, the Fauns 
are peasants (Bauern) , and the Satyrs 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 repre- 
sent classes or qualities. 

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 announces 
the new and wonderful fountain of wealth, the spell of which 
must be broken by him. The Chancellor refers to this epi- 
sode in the following scene (page 52), when he assures the 
Emperor that the latter actually signed the mandate authorizing 
the issue of paper-money. 

The greeting "Glück aufP'* (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 firtree in the hand, may still be seen on the coat-of- 
arms of more than one princely house in North Germany. 
They are called Waldmänner (Men of the Woods) by the 
people, and are supposed, by some archaeologists, to be lineal 
descendants of the Grecian Fauns. 

40. Ai midday sleeping^ o'er his brow. 

"The foliage of these oaks and beeches is impenetrable to 
the strongest sunshine: I 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 Eckermann, 1824. 

"The hour of Pan now fell upon me, as always upon my 



3IO Faust, 

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 se- 
cret, even uncanny, as if the Dreams were creeping around the 
noonday sleepers. Near at hand 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 yearning; 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 bums 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 vi-» 
sion 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 ot the Emperor to the 
fount of fire, the Herald holding the wand which Plutus after- 
wards uses to quench the fiame — to which we cannot easily 
give a political symbolism. 

I have quoted Kreyssig's view (Note 38), and here add 
that of Kösthn: "When Pan, or the Emperor, arrives with his 
suite, a deputation of the Gnomes, the spirits of the metals, 
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 solenmly 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 terribly, .... 
not the Revolution, as Diintzer's gloomy interpretation asserts, 
but, as it is immediately afterwards styled, a cheerfiil "jugglery 
of flame,'* which terrifies only to banter, and also serves, 
through the seeming terror and the speeding quelling of the 
conflagration, to show the magic art of Faust in its entire glory. 
At the most, there is herein a hint that wealth may result in 



Notes, 3 n 

clamage and that all material splendor is threatened with the 
<ianger 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 "Revo- 
lution." 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 conflagra- 
tion which occurred at the ball given by Prince Schwarzen- 
berg to Napoleon, at Paris, in 1810. But it is much more 
likely that Goethe remenbered the following passage from Gott- 
fried's Chronik, which he must have read as a boy: "About 
two years afterwards (1394), when things were a little 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 themselves 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 ap- 
peared 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 dis- 
guised to the Duchesse de Berry, and, to her thinking, made 
liimself all too silly and rude, wherefore she held him fast 
and let him not go till she should find who he was. But as 
lie did not disclose himself, the Due d'Orleans, who was be- 
holding 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 bum. Now when 
the others saw such, forgot they their garments, ran thither, 
and would quench the King's blaze; but they were in like 
rguise caught by the flame, and because every one hurried to 
the King, four of those French gentlemen were burned so mi- 
serably that they thereupon died. Truly the King was pre- 
served, and no particular injury to his body, but because of 
the fright and the great ouctry he fell again into his former 
madness." 

42. So hear and see the fortune-freighted 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 descrip- 
tion of what he saw in the realm of fire does not at all har- 
monize with the Revolutionary solution, whence Diintzer, 



312 Faust, 

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 allegory 
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 splendor and homage 
which shall follow the new financial scheme. Mephistopheles 
falls ironically into the same strain, and scoffs while he seems 
adroitly to flatter. 

The paper-money device was probably suggested by the his- 
tory of John Law's operations in Paris, under the Orleans 
Regency, — from 1 716 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 upply! 
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." 

Eckarmann 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 Mephi- 
stopheles promises to fumish it. This subject runs through 
the Masquerade, wherein Mephistopheles so manages that the 
Emperor, in the mask of the great Pan, signs a paper, which,, 
receiving the value of money from his signature, is then a 
thousandfold 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 de- 
lighted, 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 ro- 
mance, which he had just read, and which he very intelligently 



Notes, 315 

discussed. We made no reference to the scene which had 
been read, but he began, of his own accord, to talk of the 
Prussian treasurynotes, 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 ex- 
perience. As another evidence he related to us an anecdote 
of Grimm, in the time of the French Revolution, when the latter, 
who was no longer safe in Paris, returned to Germany 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 tissignats^ 
which, the next day, were not worth a farthing." 

The purpose of the scene, as a part of the plot, is to pro- 
cure 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 evident 
truth — is only partially effective. 

43. They house within theix 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, Mephi- 
stopheles 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 symbol of the Beauti- 
ful, will afterwards exercise. Being, nevertheless, 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 
topplement to the dinner, Goethe gave me a great enjoyment» 



314 Faust, 

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 my- 
self forced to beg Goethe to enlighten me a little. He, ho- 
wever, according to his usual habit, assumed a mysterious 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 reading 
Plutarch, I found that in Grecian antiquity the Mothers are 
spoken of as Goddesses. This is all which I have borrowed, 
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 MittheUungen über 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 remained in 
Goethe's memory from some one of these occasions. For when 
he questioned me on this point twenty years afterwards — per- 
haps about the time when he wished to use the material in 
working on Faust — I could not inmiediately say where the 
Mothers were |to be found; but he then remembered 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, me- 
mory and research awoke again. I found both passages, but 
did not quote them because they give no explanation 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." 

Härtung has discovered another passage in Plutarch (De 
Defect. Orac, 22), wherein the Mothers are not mentioned, it 
is true, but which Goethe evidently bore in his mind and ap- 
plied in this scene: "There are a hundred and eighty-three 



Notes. 315 

worlds, which are arranged in the form of a triangle. Each 
side has sixty worlds in a line, the other three occupying the 
comers. 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 embodiment 
of the idea of the Beauty — the Human Form {pide Note 87 
to (he First Part), and that Helena, alone, afterwards becomes 
the symbol, both of Beauty and of the Qassic element in Art 
and Literature. The Mothers, therefore, (admitting the signi- 
ficance of the name, which suggested their use to Goethe) must 
of necessity symbolize the original action of those elemental 
forces in Man, out of which grew the aesthetic development of 
the race, in whatever form. We may find the primitive source 
of all 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 ope- 
rations 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 experiment. 
Here the forms, instead of more clearly representing, seem to 
have further confiised 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 this summary, only enlarging it by the 
introduction of additional views and giving a translation of the 
phrases he quotes. 

Eckermann, after taking home Goethe's manuscript and duly 
pondering over it, evolved out of his inmost consciousness the 
discovery that the Mothers are the "creating and sustaining 
principle, from which everything proceeds that has life and 
form on the surface of the Earth." Kostlin denies that they 
are creative, but says they are the sustaining and conservative 
principle, adding: **They are Goddesses, who preside over the 
eternal metamorphoses of things, of all 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 Hartimg, agreeing with 
D&ntzer that they are "the primitive forms of things," adds 



3 1 6 Faust. 

that •'they dwell in the desert of speculative thought." Weisse 
states that they are "the formless realm of the inner world of 
spirit — the invisible depth of the mind, struggling to bring 
forth its own conceptions." 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 ma- 
tricest "the elemental or original material of all forms." Rie- 
mer*s view is substantially the same, — "they are the elements 
from which spring all that is corporeal as well as all that is 
intellectual." 

The theories which most of the above critics spin from 
these interpretations are too finely and consistently metaphysical 
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 conjecture, 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, mysterious background; and this 
is all, I feel sure, that Groethe intended. 

Schnetger has picked up the most satisfactory clew, Kreyssig 
has followed it, and Goethe himself has given us an uncon- 
scious hint of its correctness. The commentary of the first is 
much too long to be quoted, but it is substantially 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 of 
Space and Time, and the Mothers are imaginary existences, 
who typify the unknown and unfathomable origin of all forms, 
and chiefly, here, of those eternal Ideals of Beauty which become 
more real to the Poet and Artist than the never utterly per- 
fect work of 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 earnest, 
creative worship of those ideals of Beauty which have descend- 
ed to earth in the masterpieces of classic art. With what 
fervor Goethe and his equal friend (Schiller) reverenced 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 him- 
self, an almost abrupt relinquishment of the society around 



Notes. 317 

him, characterized the first earnest beginning of his studies 

Only a iimi, 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 
Avith 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 
«nthroned in Solitude, is sung by Schiller, if our instinct does 
not deceive us, in that thoughtful poem, "of the regions where 
the pure forms dwell."* 

In £ckermann's third volume, he describes a conversation 
which he had with Goethe, during a drive along the Erfurt 
road, in April, 1827: "*I must laugh at the sestheticians {./^the- 
tiker)t 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 phe- 
nomenon^ which indeed never becomes visible itself ^ but the 
reflection of which is seen in a thousand various expressions 
of the creative mind, as various and as manifold, 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 exhi- 
bits 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 con- 
ditions 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 mysterious, prime- 
val forces which manifest themselves through Genius in a 
manner inexplicable to all ordinary human consciousness, which 
remove those who know them far from Space and Time, into 
a spiritual isolation which only the brother-genius can com* 
iprehend, but even he cannot share. 

• Das Ideal und das Leben. 



3i8 Faust. 

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 
directed to the Mothers by Mephistopheles ^ but here, as occa— 
sionally elsewhere in the Second Part, the mask of Mephisto- — 
pheles drops and we see the face of Goethe himself. To insists 
on the role of Negation, which explains the forms assumed by 
Mephistopheles in the Carnival Masquerade, the Classical Wal — 
purgis-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 No- 
thing 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 entirely 
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, how- 
ever, is the highest and purest form of wisdom, 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.. 
V^e must seek in Nature for the keys to the myths of Greece, 
which, themselves, 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 invo- 
luntary nature, yet also the distinctness, of a dream ; and which 
always contains more than its utterer can clearly express. He 
cannot reject it, for it comes to him with an irresistible author- 
ity: he must therefore be silent, and suffer it to stand as a 
mystery for his contemporaries. 



Notes, 319 

46. A gentle kick permit ^ then, from my foot! 

The motive of this scene seems to be, to renew the con- 
trast 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 homoeopathic 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 wildering distraction" in the coming performance, 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, Hamlet's 
successor, as the hero. The fragment of a scene which re- 
mains gives us no hint of the character of the play, nor can 
we be certain that it would have been introduced in connec- 
tion with the appearance of Paris and Helena. Nevertheless, 
the fragment may be here given: — 

Theatre. 
{The actor, who plays the King, appears to have become weary,) 

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,. 



320 Faust. 

to hear the wise remarks of His Majesty the Emperor so much 
the oftener. 

Mephistopheles. 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 spo- 
ken. The evil, which thou wert obliged to do, is small— 

Lord High Steward. . Do not speak so loud! The Em- 
peror 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 German 
mind to Gothic art, but also to show how the Classic and 
Romantic repel each other when first brought into contact. 
It was simply necessary that he should remember the character of 
his own development. In 1772 he published an essay **0n 
German Architecture** (the word German being purposely used 
instead of Gothic) , containing a glowing panegyric on Erwin 
von Steinbach, the architect of Strasburg Cathedral. Yet in 
1 8 10 he wrote to Count Reinhard: "Formerly I had also a 
great interest in these things, and cherished a sort of idolatry 
for the Strasburg Cathedral, the fagade of which I still con- 
sider, as then, greater than that at Cologne. But the most 
singular thing to me is our German patriotism, which endea- 
vors to represent the evident Saracenic growth as having origi- 
nally sprung up on German soil.** 

The Doric temples at Girgenti and Pgestum produced such 
a profound impression upon Goethe's mind, that, by a natural 
reaction, he was for a time repelled by Gothic art. In de- 
scribing the architrave of the Temple of Antonius 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, — something other than our 
tobacco-pipe columns, pointed turrets and flowery pinnacles. 
From these, thank God, I am now eternally delivered!** 



Notes, 321 

49, Whate'er once was, there bums and brijs^htens 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 philosophical 
systems. What can it be but all creations of Beauty, whether 
lost to the world or still possessed ? They would fain be eter- 
nal, 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 imchiselled gods of Phidias, 
the completed Dawn of Michael 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 "bestows 
as his faith inspires" would then be the Artist, whose nature 
is for the time (as we have already seen) typified in Faust. 

50. \\7io doth not kturw the gentle Paris well? 

The description of the Doric temple first prepares us for 
the apparition of the Grecian ideals of Beauty, and now the 
mysterious music, the ringing of the shafts and triglyphs, the 
^dnging 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 Archi- 
tecture, 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 cor- 
rect, they have a personal character, also. He says: "To the 
Weimar public, or rather to the privileged persons of the Wei- 
mar 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 
Hamilton's tales, «The Enchanter Faustus," wherein the latter 
calls up Helena of Troy, and other women noted for their 

Faust. II. 21 



^22 Faust, 

beauty, before Queen Elizabetb and her Court. The impres- 
sion which Helena 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 myseir 
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 consi- 
dered fine.* 

" *It must be admitted,* rejoined Sydney, *that they are large, 
nobly shaped, black, and sparkling, but what expression 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.* '* 

51. The fomi, that long errwhile 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 neither 
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 one wholly, and to feel a rapture. 
In yielding, that must be eternal! 



Notes, 323 

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 fme spiritual passion which possesses 
the Poet and the Artist. 

Kreyssig alone, of all the German commentators, seems to 
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, although 
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 resisted, but his reso« 
lution 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 Blocksberg. The period of his intel- 
lectually-artistic development and maturity commences, and the 
poet inaugurates it by a series of sometimes varied and fan- 
tastic 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. / call the piece: TTie 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 disgust 
with the results of all knowledge, in the opening monolc^e 
of the First Part. It is almost a prophecy of that st^reme 
content which would delay the flying Moment; and Mephisto* 

11* 



324 Faust 

pheles might hope soon to claim his wager, but for the cir- 
cumstance that his negative nature is utterly incapable of com- 
prehending Faust's passion for the Beautiful. 

Schnetger says: **The title (The Rape of Helena) simply 
means to express more clearly that the form was only a pro- 
phetic vision, and now vanishes; that Faust is not yet suffi- 
ciently advanced to retain the Beautiful ; that Helena, the high- 
est ideal of Art, resembles that form of the Shades, which 
seems so near that Faust cries: 'How can she nearer bei* and 
yet is ever stolen from him who would too impetuously grasp 
her." 

Mr. Lovell, 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 Faust 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 con- 
ception 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 of 
Faust is really as old as I say.* Hence it may be an ad- 
vantage 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 exchange 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- 
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 

* Goethe must mean, here, the original conception or 
ground-rplan of the whole, certainly not the arrangement of the 
separate scenes or the introduction of episodes which were sug- 
gested at a much later date. 



Notes, 325 

may guess that his first intention was to give Faust a part to 
play in his old Gothic chamber: the reappearance of the Stu- 
dent of the First Fart as Baccalaureus seems to be hardly a 
sufficient motive for the return to Place and the purposed con- 
trast of Time. Mephistopheles, whose part, throughout the 
period of Faust's aesthetic development (Acts II. and III.), is 
supposed to be Ignorance as well as Negation forgets 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 Fharsalian 
Fields, in the Qassical Walpurgis-Night, and Goethe, mean- 
while, 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 following 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 powerless 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 word 
farfalettei 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 "Chorus 
of Insects" is intended to represent all the whims, crotchets, 
and theories of mechanical scholarship^ — the verminiferous 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. Düntzer says: "The Devil ridicules the dead scholar- 
ship, the waste and mould of the chamber, y<\\ttt\T\. GrUUn 



326 Fatist. 

must ever be produced: we might even suppose that the in- 
sects, especially the farfalette (moths) and cicadas, are an indi- 
cation of the crotches 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 Mephistopheles 
the opportunity of continuing his irony. Some imagine that in 
the latter^s description of the immense reputation 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 Acces- 
sary to give the grounds on which the conjecture is based. 

It seems to me evident that the conversation between Me- 
phistopheles and the Baccalaureus (commencing on page 78) 
is one of the earlier fragments. Frau von Kalb declared that 
Groethe 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 correspon- 
dence with Schiller which furnish an indirect explanation of 
some of the expression. 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 
5ome evidence of it in the translation. The earlier passage 
commences at the line: "If, ancient Sir," etc. 

Eckermann asked Goethe whether a certain class of ideal 
philosophers was not typified in the Baccalaureus. 

"No," said Goethe; "he is the personification of that pre- 
sumption 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 not to begin their labors imtil 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), Goe- 
the said: «I have always kept myself entirely free from Philo- 
sophy: my standpoint was that of sound human undierstand- 
ing," 



Notes. 327 

56. But donU gOy absolute y hotne from here. 

There is a philosophical antithesis implied in the words 
•**resolute" and "absolute," in this couplet. Mephistopheles uses 
■the former word in its double sense of "determined" and "dis- 
solved," while the latter, according to Kreyssig, is a sarcastic 
allusion to the H^elian philosophy. It would seem from what 
follows, however, that Goethe had Fichte in his mind, rather 
than Hegel. 

57. When one has passed his thUrtieth year. 
One then is just the same as dead. 

The reference to Fichte is here not to be mistaken. The 
following passage occurs in his works : "When they have passed 
their thirtieth year, one well might wish, for their own repu- 
:tation 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 associations." 

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 conse- 
<iuence of Fichte's boundless assumption of infallibility, and 
partly, no doubt, from the indiscreet conflict of his disciples 
with the much smaller circle around Goethe and Schiller. The 
latter writes, on one occasion: "According to Fichte*s own ex- 
pressions, 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 IntermezMO of the First Part, 
which was also written in 1796 (a circumstance corroborative 
of Frau von Kalb's testimony), and which is universally accepted 
as a representation of Fichte, he will xecognAzc precisely the 
jsame features here. 

58. Who can think wise or stupid things at all. 
Thai were not thought already in the Fast? 

Goethe was acquainted with a little-known volume of Sterne, 
some of the maxims of which, translated by himself, were found 
among his papers and ignorantly published as original frag« 



328 Faust 

ments by Eckermann and Riemer. The work, which is en- 
titled: **The Koran, or Essays, Sentiments, Characters, and 
Callimachies of Tria Juncta in 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 Steme*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 ^i 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 Mon- 
taigne, 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, now-a-days, is not that they say anything new, but only 
that they are capable of saying such and such things them- 
selves, *if they had never been said before them.* But as mo- 
narchs have a right to call in the specie of a state, and raise 
its value, by their own impression; so there are certain prero- 
gative geniuses, who are above plagiaries, — who cannot be said 
to steal, but, from their improvement of a thought, rather to 
borrow it, and repay the commonwealth of letters with inter- 
est 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 bom. 
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 Eckerm&nn :. 
"It is true that we bring capacities into life with us, but we- 
owe our development to the thousand influences of a great 
world, from which we assimilate all we can. I owe much to« 
the Greeks and to the French; my dept to Shakespeare,. 
Sterne, and Goldsmith is immeasurably great. Nevertheless, the* 
sources of my culture are not therewith indicated: to nome- 
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 no« so- 
old, and for thousands of years past so many important meoi 



Notes. 329' 

have lived and thought, that few positively new things can be 
discovered and said." 

The expression of Mephistophele;;, however, seems to have 
been more directly suggested by a line in Terence: Nullum esf 
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 colletively, were enthusiastic 
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 utterances of Goethe on this- 
alirieation 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 cri- 
tics 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 satisfactory explana- 
tion of his character. I prefer, therefore, to offer the reader 
choice of several tracks, leaving that which I believe to be the- 
true one to be further followed in succeeding notes. 

The ns^ne and mode of origin of Homunculus are taken 
froni ^afs^elsus, and some hint of the character, possibly, from 
"Sterne. The former, in the first book of his De generatione 
rerum, says: "But now the generatio hamunculorum is by no 
means to be forgotten. For there is 'something in it; although 
such has hitherto been held i^ the greatest secrecy, and there 
has been no small doubt and question among divers of the old 
philosophers, whether it may even be possible, that a man may^ 
be bom 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 beea 
concealed from the natural man, yet was it not concealed from 
the sylvestrcs, and nymphs, and giants, but long ago revealedr 
whence also they originate. For from such homunculis they 



330 Faust, 

grow to full age, monstrous dwarfs and other like wonderful 
creatures, which are employed as powerful agencies, are victo- 
rious over their enemies and know secret things, which 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 bom: therefore 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 conception (intellectually speaking) 
presented to Goethe's mind may be readily guessed, and a 
curious coincidence probably led to its embodiment in this 
^cene. The philosopher, Johann Jacob Wagner,* seems to 
have possessed some of the characteristics of his namesake of 
the First Part. After the appearence of the latter, in 1808, 
Prof. Köhler, of Würzburg, 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, Wag- 
ner propounded the most astonishing views in his lectures, some 
-of which — as, for instance, "all organisms are nothing but de- 
veloped metals," and the assertion that "Chemistry would finally 
succeed in producing organic bodies, even in Creating human 
beii^ 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 arti- 
ficially harmonizes completely with the lifeless pedantry of 
which Wagner is the representative. 

Professor Wagner was an enthusiastic admirer of the ori- 
^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! 

* He was bom at Ulm in I77S, and died there in 184 1. 
He studied at Jena and Göttingen, and was for many years 
Professor in Würzburg. Among his works are "A Theory of 
Warmth and Light," «*A System of Ideal Philosophy," «Philo- 
--sophy of Education," ««Political Economy," ««Philosophy and Me- 
<iicine," 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 himself. He had, at 
one time, a circle of devout believers. 



-Notes, 331 

Nothing which Goethe has himself said concerning Homun- 
•culus 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 no»» 
-ticed, in general, that Mephistopheles appears to a disadvan- 
tage in contrast with Homunculus, who is his equal in intel- 
lectual 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 complete human in- 
corporation, were classed among the Daemons, and therefore a 
rsort 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, accord- 
ing to our former knowledge of him, and also from his ap- 
pearance in the Helena as a secretly-working agency. Thus 
he is again elevated, as a whole, and, with his superior im- 
passiveness, 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 ['EvreX^x*^*» ^^ 
Aristotelian word signifying the actual being of a thing], the 
Reason, the Spirit, as it enters life before experience; 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 ex- 
perience; he penetrated it, before he knew it through his life. 

* "Not in entire forgetfulness , 
And not in utter nakedness. 
But trailing clouds of glory, do we come." 

V^ardswort^ 



3 32 Faust. 

He also pointed out to Eckennann the shrewdness and atten^ 
tive perception of his little grand-daughter Alma. Yes, Goethe 
himself has a sort of respect for Homimculus." 

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 Fanst» 
Let us now consider, as briefly as possible, some of the most 
important interpretations of the critics. Weisse says: "Homun- 
culus is the objective expression, the hypostatic form of Faust*s 
present spiritual condition, struggling for a new birth into an- 
other and unknown condition of existence." Leu^becher's expla- 
nation is: *'He appears as the personification of that spiritual 
condition in Faust, which, sprung to life in the realm of exter- 
nal, mechanical scholarship, 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 over- 
looks 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 con- 
cealed." 

Another series of opinions, having some metaphysical or 
psychological relationship to the above, may next be quoted.. 
Diintzer 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 Röt- 
scher 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 human 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 Helena! .... 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. Härtung declares that 
"what Helena is to Faust, that is Homunculus to Mephisto- 
pheles, a creation of his fancy, and, nevertheless, his ruling 
spirit.'* He ignores any connection between Homunculus and 
Faust. Rosenkranz simply states that. Homunculus is a «co- 
mical" figure, who, at the close of the Classical Walpurgis- 
Night, "manifests himself as Eros.** Kostlin says, with uncon- 
cealed irritation: "Grant that the new spirit is dramatically 
necessary, grant that he is cleverly invented, the figure is and 



Notes, 333 

remains an unedifying trick, a ridiculous image, with which the 
poet himself plays a game which totally annihilates it. It is 
«difficult 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 bom Know- 
ledge, yet yearning for the real, corporeal. He endeavors to 
find them in the natural knowledge of the ancients, and returns 
■to the elements, as fire, like phosphorus in union with water." 
Friedrich von Sallet considered him to be Cxerman Poetry be- 
fore Schiller and Goethe and Julian Schmidt Greek-Romantic 
Poetry. 

lO'eyssig, who insists that the reader must approach this 
part of the drama with "a vital, receptive spirit, free from pre- 
judice or prepossession," if he wishes to enjoy and understand 
it, endeavors to solve the problem in a different manner. He 
attaches a special meaning to the relation between Wagner and 
Homunculus, accepting the former as a t3rpe of solid research 
■and knowledge, while he sees in Faust a personification of 
Genius. "What the explorer has laboriously produced," he 
says, '^becomes a living light to Genius, guiding him into re- 
gions which Fate has closed against the former. Kreyssig does 
not seem to perceive that this Uving 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 mea- 
sure the fundamental law of a healthy artistic development 
was exemplified in Goethe's life; how he, in the maturity of 
ka& power, far from the daring wantonness of the *Storm and 
Stress' years, found no form of knowledge dry and unimpor- 
tant which had any bearing on Nature and Art; how he stu- 
-died 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 re- 
flected in the Second Part of Faust, than the critics seem will- 
ing to admit. The first three Acts are saturated, through and 
through, with his intellectual subjectiveness. It was not his 
iiabit of mind to build theories, nor could he have taken the 
least interest in the representation of abstract ideas. He was 
Jiever satisfied until the vaguest gossamer-wraith of the imagi- 
nation had found some corresponding reality of form. A care- 
ful 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 sometimes confuse, 
but, in the end, will discover much that seemed hidden at first. 



334 Faust. 

My impression that the Boy Charioteer, Homimculus an(i 
Euphorion, are one and the same elfish, elusive Spirit, which: 
is the Poetic Genius of Goethe himself (as its enteleckeia, other 
allegorical garments being throivn 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, Düntzer, Horn, Rotscher, or Schnefr 
ger : it only completes and harmonizes all of them. Leutbecher, 
indeed, stops a little short of the same view, when he says t 
"As in the First Part, Wagner and Mephistopheles are personi*- 
fications of certain tendencies in Faust, so also here the same- 
thing must be assumed, and Homunculus is added as the per^ 
sonification of a new tendency." Now, in 1827, in speakings 
of Ampere's review of Faust f Goethe said: **He has expressed 
himself no less intelligently, in asserting that not only the 
gloomy, unsatisfied 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, 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 conceal, 
his design. There will be sufficient opportunity to add what- 
ever 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 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." 

60. Fair scenery! 

In this passage Homunculus describes the dream of the 
sleeping Faust, which is visible to him alone. Faust has al- 
ready gone further back towards the origin of Beauty, in this 
picture of Helena's parents, Leda and the Swan-Jupiter. The 
separation of the Qassic and Romantic elements, which com- 
menced in the First Act, now becomes complete, and the occu- 
pation 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 «wans and the 
swan-begotten; but here the event is pictured, and when one, 
with the impression on his senses, comes afterwards to Helena,, 
how much more distinct and complete everything will appear f 



Notes. 335 

Goethe assented to this, and said: <*You. will also find that 
already, throughout these first acts, the Classic and the Ro- 
mantic vibrate, and come to expression, so that, as by a gra- 
dually ascending slope, we are carried upwards to the Helenay 
where both forms of Poetry come prominently to the light 
and find a species of adjustment." 

The ignorance of the Mephistopheles concerning the Clas- 
sical Walpurgis-Night is accounted for by the fact that he is a 
Gothic, mediaeval Devil, from the North, and "brought forth 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 instantly 
transported to the land where his dream can be made a reality.. 

6i. Buty clearlier seeity V is 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 undramatic 
as this. 

The scene, although not strictly geographically correct, is^ 
admirably chosen, since the classic age may be said to termi- 
nate 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 Samothrace, 
Lesbos, Tenedos, and the Troad beyond, — these are the fea- 
tures, not all visible, but all suggested by the locality. 

62. / may detect the dot upon the "7". 

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 i& 
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 Mephisto* 
pheles, and not of Wagner. Goethe's answer was: "You 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." 



33^ 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 provender 
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 Mephistopheles 
in producing Homunculus is indicated, — which were either not 
noticed by Eckermann or afterwards added by Goethe, — are 
Xhe following. 

On page 78: — 

An entrance why should he deny me? 

I '11 expedite his luck, if he 'II but try me! 

On page 86: — 

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 di- 
gression from the direct course of the drama. Unlike it, how- 
ever, its substance is poetic rather than didactic. Neither 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 awakening 
und development of his sense of Beauty, and, at the same 
time, of bringing together the Classic and Romantic elements 
in Literature and Art, in order to reconcile them in a region 
lofty enough to abolish all fashions of Race and Time, we 
have no difficulty in fancying how the plan of a Classical Wal- 
purgis-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 frame-work, capable of enclosing both 
ihe allegory and the narrative, — the former so airy, subtile, 
-and shifting, that, while it could only be expressed through 



Notes. 337 

Porm, it perpetually eluded the confinement of fomis of thought, 
and the course of the latter so determined in advance by the 
completed Helena y 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 Helena were produced. We have Ecker- 
mann's testimony that it was only a sketch in 1827, when 
Goethe said to him: "The plan exists, indeed, but the great diffi- 
culty is yet to be overcome; and the execution really depends 
altogether too much on sheer good-luck. The Classical Wal- 
purgis-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 
V^hat^ 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 de- 
pends 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, 1^30, 
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 moods, the 
plan was traced out, like the pattern of a piece of embroi- 
dered tapestry, and he worked here and there, according 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 la- 
bored. ^The hand is firm and clear, the interlineations few 
but always excellent, and there are sometimes 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 intro- 
duced, 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 Homunculus come in 

Faust. II. 'l'l 



338 Faust, 

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 classical 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 resonant glorification of the former. Flashing 
over all, like a Will-o'-the-wisp, is Homunculus, with his yearn- 
ing to commence 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 German 
critics are here less active in constnicting independent theories 
than in bending these evident elements to their service, in ex- 
plaining the details. Rosenkranz, for instance, says that "Faust 
is led through Nature to Art," but inasmuch as he afterwards 
admits that the highest result of Art is the perfect human form, 
he thus comes back to the original clew. Weisse remarks, 
very correctly, that the scenes "are filled with an anticipation 
of cÄming Beauty." Köstlin, Schnetger, Düntzer, and others 
do not differ in substance, 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 develop- 
ment 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 being, we have the 
simplest key, not only to the Classical Walpurgis-Night, but to 
many of the views which it has suggested to the commentators. 
Only thus, indeed, can we understand the increasing pro- 
minence 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 He- 
lena; but he, himself plays a secondary part. Neither is Me- 
phistopheles much more prominent; he meets with (something 
quite new to him) one embarrassment after another. There 
are all the better grounds for assuming that Goethe, here, had 



Notes, 339 

other purposes, further evidence of which is shown in the visible 
love and elaboration wherewith the abundant forms are pre- 
sented, the beauty and importance of so many visions, and the 
cheerful humor which throws a singular, shifting charm over 
the whole. It is full of alluring and mysterious suggestion, 
like the endless laughter of the seawaves, in the ancient poet." 

Another remark of Goethe (made in 1831) may be inter- 
esting to the reader: "The old Walpurgis-Night is tnonarchical, 
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-long interest in the plastic arts, the execution of the 
scene would not have been possible. Nevertheless, it was very 
difficult to be moderate with such abundant material, and to 
reject all figures which did not completely accord, with my 
design. For example, I made no use of the Minotaur, the 
Harpies, and various other monsters." 

Mephistopheles is seduced to overcome his dislike for "an- 
tique cronies" by the mention of Thessalian witches, and the 
scene is accordingly opened by the witch Erich tho, described by 
Lucan as dwelling in the wilds of Hsemus, where she was con- 
sulted 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 hexameter, scarcely known to the English 
language, but the latter, nevertheless, adapts itself as readily to 
the additional foot as the German. 

ft 

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 pas- 
sage in his works : "Clearness of vision, cheerfulness of accept- 
ance, and easy grace of expression, are the qualities which de- 
light 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 he one!" 

66. I find myself so strange ^ so disconcerted. 

Mephistopheles, on the other hand, is entirely out of his 
proper element. His disgust with the nudity of the antique 



34© Faust. 

forms is an admirable bit of humor, through which we can 
detect Goethe's own well-known defence of the chastity of an- 
cient art. The delicate satire of the line, Doch das Antike 
ßnä' ick 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 in- 
decent 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. 

Düntzer 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 attempted 
to trace them to a common root. The answer of Mephisto- 
pheles is a play upon the words Greif (Griffin) and greifen (to 
grip) — sufficiently like the English words to be intelligible in 
translation. The Griffin accepts this explanation, and confirms 
it by slightly changing the Latin proverb Fortes Fortuna jirvai, 
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-guarding 
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 human 
form. Härtung, 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. Schnet- 
ger'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. Fxpj-ess thyself, and V will a riddle be. 
It IS evident that the Sphinxes immediately recognized Me 



Notes, 341 

phistopheles^ 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 semibestial form. 
In the answer of Mephistppheles to the demand for his name, 
Goethe uses the English words "Old Iniquity." This term was 
given, in the Moralities, to a personification 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 Ml 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 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 me- 
diaeval Devil. Its keenness will be properly appreciated 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 number, 
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 mythos of 
the Argonauts and Ulysses. 



342 Faust. 

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 grotesque 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 to- 
wards his. 

In the description which the latter gives of the Siren's song, 
commencing "These are of novelties the neatest," Härtung sees 
"Goethe's opinion of certain modern poets." Some such mean- 
ing is certainly suggested by the lines; but 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 i 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 forerunners of that 
of Greece. He is even reconciled to what is repulsive in them, 
by their association with the early memories of Grecian Hi- 
story and Literatur. 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 gro- 
tesque phantoms of the Blocksberg, 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 artistic 
Ideal of Beauty with animal forms; while, after recalling the 
StjTnphalic birds and the heads of the Lernaean Hydra for the 
benefit of Mephistopheles, they shwredly send him after the 
Lamise, 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 Pharsalus to 
the base of Olympus and the shores of the ^^gean 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 hu- 
man, and an athmosphere of Poetry, as well as of Art, encircles 



Notes, 343 

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 re- 
peated, as the reality of what was there only presentiment. 
Now, however, Leda herself is not seen; the thick foliage con- 
ceals her form. Faust is not yet prepared to behold the con- 
ception of the Beautiful. 

73. Chiron. 

The Centaur Chiron was the son of Saturn and Philyra, 
the daughter of Oceanus. 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 symbo- 
lical 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 con- 
structor, be considered as standing equally in both periods of 
development. This position, half here, half there, is early illus- 
trated 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 ap- 
proach 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, no- 
bility, and yearning sadness of expression, which are there so 
wonderfully painted. 

74. No second such hath Gaa 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, the Centaur^s 
burst of enthusiasm for the hero whose poisoned arrow acci- 



344 Faust, 

dentally 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 female 
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 pro- 
bably 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 .yahreszeiten, he says: "Grace is only re- 
vealed from the fulness of Strength." In 1832, only a month 
before his death, Goethe said to Soret: "The Hercules of anti- 
quity is a collective being, the great bearer of his own deeds 
and the deeds of others." 

75. ^T is curious with your my tho logic 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 Eckerraann. Goethe- 
was speaking of a line in one of his own poems, where Pro- 
fessor Göttling 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 Göttling's representations led you to print, 
instead, *a seven-year-old and 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 72.) 

In the next edition, therefore, you may still make a ten-years' 
rot out of the seven-years' one." 



Notes, 345 

Faust answers Chiron, as a Poet: "Then let not bonds of 
Time be thrown around her ! '* He refers to an obscure legend 
(mentioned by Müller, in his work on "The Dorians"), that 
Achilles ascended from the Shades to wed Helena on the isle 
of Leuke, — not Fhercp, which seems to be k mistake of Goe- 
the, — where they had a son, Euphorion. 

76. Manto. 

Goethe has wilfully taken Manto from blind Tiresias, "pro- 
phet old," whose daughter she was, and given her .^cula- 
pius 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 wan- 
dered 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 tjie moonlight, the dreaming Manto, 
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 dis- 
appears, 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, 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 Beautiflil through 
the Grecian mind is temporarily suspended, and a very diffe- 
rent element is introduced. 

77. Health is none where water 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) strip- 
ped of their former symbolism: they are now evidently repre- 
sentatives 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 



34^ Faust. 

phrase of Thaies, ariston men ^udoj\ The word Heil means 
either health or salvation; and the latter rendering wQidd per- 
haps be more correct here. Goethe undoubtedly selected the 
Sirens to describe the earthquake, because they are the only 
characters already introduced who are directly associated with 
the Sea. 

78. Seismos. 

Goethe makes a personification of the Earthquake (2ei9fi^^), 
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 in- 
troduced it. A thorough and satisfactory commentary 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 the two threads, of such 
irreconcilable texture, are very evident, yet he has none the 
less failed in his attempt. I only feel bound, therefore, to pre- 
sent whatever may be strictly necessary to the understanding 
of this foreign element, and its elimination from the genuine 
substance of the drama. 

Düntzer has carefully collected the principal facts, and so 
skilfiilly arranged them that I only need to abbreviate his ma- 
terial, and add to it a few illustrations from Goethe's writings. 
The Nep tunic theory in geology, to which Goethe early be- 
came a convert, originated with Werner, and is based on his 
observations of mountain-strata. Taking granite as the original 
base, he taught that the later formations were successive de- 
posits from a primeval ocean or from denser atmospheres; that, 
as Goethe expressed it, the Earth, slowly and by a progressive, 
harmonious development, builded itself; and that earthquakes 
and volcanic fires, although permanent phenomena, were not 
universal creative agencies. When Werner, in 1 788, declared 
that basalt w'as formed through the action of water, the struggle 
of theories commenced, and the terms "Neptimists*' and "Plu- 
tonists" 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 internal 
forces rapidly gained ground in the scientific world. Its cham- 
pions were two distinguished geologists, Leopold von Buch 
in Germany and Elie de Beaumont in France, to whom, about 
1820, wass added Alexander von Humboldt. Goethe, aroused 



Notes. ^ 347 

from his security in regard to the Neptunic theory, now began 
to express his views, less in the way of impartial scientific dis- 
cussion than as a matter of feeling, — we may even say, pre- 
judice. 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 particulars, — in those days, we had a foot- 
hold where to stand, and we could not have wished a better 
-one. We were 'directed to Granite as the highest and the 
■deepest, we respected it in this sense, and labored to investi- 
gate 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, convul- 
jsion, and a series of. chaotic accidents for the quiet, imdisturb- 
■ed, sublime process of creation. In a paper entitled "Geolo- 
^cal 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 im- 
animity." 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 priesthood, 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, — / nov) allow myself to 
ridicule, and to attack their weak side, pf 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 
eotemporaries are quite too eccentric. Recaitly the Milanese 
announced to me with amazement, that Herr von B. [Buch] 
would demonstrate to their eyes that the Euganaean Hills, which 
they have hitherto looked upon as a natural 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 annoimced 
[Humboldt's Siberian Journey?] that the Altai was once con- 
veniently squeezed up from the depths. And you may thank 
God that the belly of the earth does not choose to fall in 



348 Faust, 

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. Thns the nonsense accumulates, and will become a^ 
universal faith of the people and savansj like the faith ia 
witches, devils, and their works, in the darkest ages." 

If these passages show the bitterness of Goethe's prejudices^ 
the unreasoning hostility he manifested to views based oa 
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 af feeling as from that period in Literature,, 
fifty years before. He suffered his aesthetic instincts to mould 
his scientific opinions , for the two had long been harmonized 
in his own mind. We must, therefore, now turn to that fan^ 
cied harmony for an explanation of the intrusion of his scien- 
tific opinions into the lofty gesthetie 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 feet, shows how his intellect had 
succeeded in uniting Man and Nature, the individual, the iräce^ 
and the planet, in one consistent and harmonious scheme, 
wherein the poem and the mountain, the flower and the statue, 
obeyed the same laws of growth. It was thus much more thstn 
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 ' considered 
that his Ideal of the development of Nature should of right 
be interwoven with his artistic Ideal. The part given to Ho- 
munculus in the illustration of the Neptunic scheme strengthens 
this conjecture. The ,de tails of the double plan will be fur- 
ther explained in the following Notes. 

\t is also probable that persons, circumstances, . and events 
are occasionally indicated. The prominence of the geological 
discussion has long since passed away; but the Witches* Kitchen 
and Walpurgis-Night of the First Part betray a wilful habit of 
reference to passing events or temporary interests, which we 
may well suppose is retained in this scene. Goethe, speaking 
of the Classical Walpurgis-Night as a whole, said to Ecker- 
marm: **I have so separated from the particular subjects and 
generalized whatever of pique I have introduced, that the 
reader may indeed detect references, but \Yill not recogni^ 
any one to whom Ihey would properly apply. I have endea- 
vored, however, to represent everything in the antique tnannery 



Notes. 349 

in distinct outlines, and to avoid any vagueness and uncertainty, 
such as is allowed hy the Romantic 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 mean- 
ing, or blending both, at will, must not for a moment be 
lost sight of, in threating the mazes of the Classical Walpurgis- 
Night. If the Sphinxes, in the preceding scenes, represent the 
struggle of Art to rise from the animal to the human 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 repulsiveness 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 conjecture that the lines: 

"But no further shall be granted. 
For the Sphinxes here are planted," 

indicate that, while Goethe admits the local operation of vol- 
canic forces, he insists that their agency is limited and restrict- 
ed by the eternal cosmic law of gradual and harmonious 
creation. 

The reference to the 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 Apollo, 
for the sake of his mother Latona. Pliny also speaks of the 
volcanic origin of Delos and other isles of the ^gean. 

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 preju- 
«dice, he gives full play to the new and picturesque fancy; the 
passage is perhaps the finest in the scene. Some of the com- 
mentators 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, Pyg- 
mies, and Dactyls, as inhabitants of the newly-created moun- 
tain, and their activity, both in collecting gold and arming to 
attack the Herons (Neptunists) , is a new bewilderment, and 
niany of the German critics leave it without attempting an ex- 



350 Faust, 

planation. 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 Plutonists by those 
purely grotesque forms, from which Mephistopheles 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 characters is explained. 

For their further significance, we must remember the extent ta 
which Goethe was irritated by the general acceptance of the Plu- 
tonic theory. The Griffins and Ants, we may guess, represent 
those who at once give in their adherence to every new scien- 
tific regime, 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 who are unable to free 
themselves from the chains of the new theorist; who find them- 
selves, without knowing how it happened, under his authority, 
intellectual serfs, forced to service and obedience, without any 
reference to their own wiljs. The Pygmy-Elders and the Ge- 
neralissimo 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 Crajies 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 Ibycus," 
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 pinegrove de- 
dicated 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 populace, 
assembled at the games, was loud for the loss of their favorite 
singer, Ibycus. Suddenly, during a pause in the performance» 



Notes. 351 

while the great amphitheatre was silent, a file of cranes passed 
overhead, and a mocking voice was heard, saying : "There are 
the Cranes of Ibycus!" The suspicions of the people were 
instantly aroused, the speaker and his accomplice were picked 
out from the audience, and the amphitheatre became a tribunal of 
judgn^nt. The murderers confessed the deed, and the Cranes 
revenged Ibycus. Such is the story which Schiller has embo- 
died 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 Plu- 
tonic 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 sug- 
gestion of his own loneliness. The "endless 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 im- 
patient 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 watches 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 Yulcanists. *In your fire-world,* 
Goethe virtually exclaims, *the Devil can attain his object; there 
is enough of the Ugly, the Vulgar, the Abominable there, but 
nothing whatever of the Noble and the Beautiful.' But even 
the Devil gnimbles over these new surface-inflations, and praises 
his secure Brocken of a thousand years, with its primitive and 
eternal forms of the Ilsenstein, Heinrichshöhe, 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 Heinrichshöhe, in a spirited passage, 
which I quote from Mr. Leland's translation: — 

"No pen can describe the merriment, simplicity, and gentle- 
ness with which the Use leaps or glides amid the wildly- 
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 



35^ Faust 

watering-pot, and then, in collected stream, trips away over the 
pebbles like a merry maiden. Yes — the old l^end is true, 
the Use is a princess, who, laughing in beauty, runs adown the 
mountain. How her white foam-garment gleams in the sun- 
shine ! 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 Usensteiri; 
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. LAMIiE. 

The original Lamia, the daughter of Belus and Libya, was 
beloved by Jupiter, and then transformed, through Juno's jea- 
lousy, into a hideous, child-devouring monster. Lilith, the noctur- 
nal, female vampire of the Hebrews, mentioned in Isaiah, is 
rendered Lamia in the Vulgate. In the plural, they appear to 
have correspondent, 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, recognized by the keen- 
eyed sage, returns to her original serpent-form, represents an- 
other 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 {^ide 
Note 24), we may suppose an indirect reference, in this epi- 
sode, to the approach of the Classic and Romantic schools in 
the elements farthest removed from Beauty. The scientific sa- 
tire, 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 entitled 
to call Mephistopheles "cousin." Goethe probably took her, 
as well as some other characters of the Classical Walpurgis- 
Night, from Böttiger, with whose works he was well acquaint- 
ed. Empusa is mentioned in "The Frogs" of Aristophanes, 
and also in the life of Apollonius Tyana, by Philostratus. She 



Notes. 



353 



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^ven 
these. They simply amuse themselves with him, and then send 
him further. The transformations which they undergo when 
he attempts to grasp them are characteristic of the Lamiae, but, 
at the same time, they suggest some additional meaning. What 
it is I cannot guess, and I find nothing in any of the com- 
mentaries which throws the least light on the passage. Diintzer's 
explanation is entirely inadequate. 

85. Oread {from the fiatural rock). 

Here the Oread is the spirit of a primeval mountain, created 
according to the Neptunic theory. But she is not introdu- 
ced solely for the purpose of ridiculing the neighboring 
Plutonic mountain which Seismos has created by upheaval, 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 Ho- 
munculus, who has been invisible during the whole Plutonic 
episode, now suddenly shows his light among the thickets co- 
vering the natural rock, hints that the Oread is immediately 
responsible for his reappearance. If we attach 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 interpre- 
tation, the reader may apply them for himself, here as else- 
where, 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 fiirther explanation. The former 
wrote of eclipses, earthquakes, and meteoric stones; the latter 
derived all life and physical phenomena from water; 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, 

Faust. II. 2*^ 



354 Faust, 

as the only means of arriving at understanding.* Consequently, 
no sooner does the dispute between the two philosophers re- 
commence, 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 anta- 
gonists. , 

87. And V is not Force ^ even on a mighty scale. 

The four lines very tersely express Gk)ethe*s scientific creed. 
In 1 83 1 he said: "The older I grow, the more surely I rely 
upon that law by which the rose and the lily blossom." He 
recognized no beauty except in proportion, no harmony except 
in gradual, ordered development. When we remember his con- 
stant 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 pre- 
judice. But, after carefully studying 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 inherited from his mother. The Frau Ajüy 
as she was affectionately, 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, sus- 
pense, the ordinary shocks and plagues of life. She always begged 
her family and friends to hide from her every coming appear- 
ance 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 

* This is a maxim which Goethe has expressed in manifold 
forms. The line in the Prologue in Heaven: ".£f irrt der 
Mensch y so lang er strebt,'' is an important part of the argu- 
ment of Faust, In Wilhelm Meister he asserts that each man 
must be developed in his own way in order to attain a genuine 
independence; and therefore, that he had better err when error 
will gradually lead him into his own true path, than walk me- 
chanically aright on the path prescribed for him by another. 



Notes. 355 

him, more an unrest than a bliss, as is clearly shown in his 
relations to Frederike and Uli. 

I^ Would be easy to give many direct illustrations of CJoe- 
the's hostility to every influence which interfered with his 
quiet, l^armonious development, and to show how such a strong 
quality of his pature must have moidded (perhaps unconsciously 
to himself) his scientific views. The better our knowledge of 
the poet, the less we shall be surprised to find him introdu- 
cing, 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, imtil 
Anaxagoras, after seeing that the new mountain is already 
peopled, offers to make the former king over the Pygmies and 
Dactyls. Düntzer says of this passage: "Anaxagoras does not 
recognize the genuine nature of Homunculus; he sees only the 
external appearance, the little form, the imprisonment in the 
.phial. On account of his littleness ^ and not, as others assert, 
because he is a spirit of fire, does Anaxagoras 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 suddenly and violently." 

Thales answers as a Neptunist, and describes the destniction 
of the Pygmies by the Cranes of Ibycus. The latter event was 
possibly intended as a prophecy; or, at least, as a satirical de- 
claration 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 y Thessalian Pytkottesses. 

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: — 

^^Qu^ sidera excantata voce Thessala 
Lunamque coelo deripitJ** 

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 per- 
ceives 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. Per- 



356 Faust, 

haps Goethe meant to hint, satirically, that the theory fo crea- 
tion "from above" (as Homunculus says) is quite as rational as 
that of Creation by upheaval. If so, he has curiously antici- 
pated 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 ima- 
gined 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, Pkorkids, were the three 
daughters of Phorkys (Darkness) and Keto (The Abyss). Their 
names were Deino, Pephredo, and Enyo: Hesiod, in his Theo- 
gony, gives only the two last. They were also called the 
Graice. They were said to have, in common, but one eye and 
one tooth, which they used alternately, and to dwell at the ut- 
termost end of the earth, where neither sun nor moon beheld 
them. They represent the climax of all which the Greek ima- 
gination has created of horrible and repulsive. Mephistopheles, 
consequently, is ravished with delight: he has found the Ideal 
Ugliness. His flattery serves also to hint that while Northern 
or Romantic Art (in the Middle Ages) was accustomed to re- 
present 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 Phorkyads admit him irito 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, 

90. Rocky Coves of the ^Egean Sea. 

With this scene commences the third and last of the tliree 
parts into which the Classical Walpurgis-Night naturally divides 
itself. The first Part, as we have seen, gradually eliminates 
the Beautiful from the Grotesque, separates the opposite paths 
of Faust and Mephistopheles, and closes with the disappear- 
ance 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, de- 
cides the course of Homunculus by attaching him to the Nep- 
tunic Thales, and closes with the union of Mephistopheles and 
his ugly Ideal. 



Notes. 357 

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 characters all belong 
to the Ocean, and the occasion which calls them together is a 
festival of Nereus» Although Goethe's scientific creed is con- 
stantly 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 respect, 
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 billowy, 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 cer- 
tainly knew, and probably accepted in a poetical sense, will 
throw some light on what follows. 

91. Steering away to Samothrace. 

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 Samothrace. The purpose of the 
Nereids and Tritons, in their journey thither, will be presently 
revealed. Meanwhile Thales conducts Homunculus to Nereus, 
the Graybeard of the Sea, whom Hesiod 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 Eckermann, "and 
when one has had some chance of seeing how, in the world, 
the most intelligent plans fail and the absurdest often turti out 
successfully, one is inclined to give up the idea ot 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 appear- 
ed 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 Dorides. 
The Dorides were the daughters of Nereus and the sea- 



\ 



35^ Faust. 

nymph Doris, but are called Nereids in the Grecian mythology. 
Goethe's object in calling them Dorides and presenting them i 
as the daughters of Xereus, while the Nereids are introduced 
without any hint of their relationship, has puzzled the commen- 
tators; and since any attempt at explanation must be merely 
conjecture, without evidence, 1 leave the question as it stands. 
There seems, also, to be no ground whatever for the declara- 
tion 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 suggested to him the propriety of giving her the 
place which really belongs to Aphrodite, as the representative 
of Helena (Beaut)'). 

It is possible that the reason why Nereus refuses to help 
Homunculus to being, and refers him to Proteus, is, that Goe- 
the intends the former to be an embodiment of accomplished, 
completed existence, while the latter represents 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 Phoe- 
nician 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 circum- 
stance. The whole episode seems to have been wilfully in- 
serted, as the consequence of a whim or a temporary interest 
in the subject. 

Schelling's work **The Deities of Samothrace," published in 
1 81 5, first directed Goethe's attention to these primitive crea- 
tures. Creuzer, in his "Symbolism and Mythology" and Lobeck 
in his "Aglaophamus" continued the archaeological discussion, 
which, considering the remote and uncertain nature of the sub- 
ject, 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 importance. 

The Cabiri were originally three. In Memphis they had a 
temple and were worshipped as the sons of Phthas (Hephsestos). 
They appear to have been colonized on Samothrace by the 
Phoenicians, and their mysteries were celebrated there with 



Notes, 359 

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, Kadmilus, being added as a uniting 
principle, they became together, according to Creuzer, a symbol 
of the spheral harmony. This may explain Goethe's allusion 
to the fourth. 

The Hebrew word, Kabbirim, is translated by Gesenius, 
■««The Mighty." ' Fürst says that Kabbirim was the name of the 
seven sons of Tzadik, in Phoenician mythology. The Arabic 
word kebeer (great), still in use, is evidently the same. 

94. These incomparahle ^ 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, gradually 
rising, to the latest and highest, who corresponded to the Zeus 
of the Greeks. Goethe transfers the desire of these lower dei- 
ties to reach the places of the higher to the desire of the 
archaeologists for unattainable knowledge. 

The answer of the Sirens \t a play upon Creuzer's adherence 
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 originally 
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 capnot but feel is altogether 
unnecessary and unedifying, comes to an end. 

96. He has no lack of qualities ideals 

But far too much of palpable and real. 

The description which Thales gives of'Homunculus directly 
suggests many hints which Goethe let fall in regard to his own 
nature. Ideas were never lacking to him; on the contrary, 
their very profiision was a source of unrest and perplexity, 
since it was associated with a difficulty in discovering the ap- 
propriate reahty of form which Poetry requires. The perfect 
fusion of the two elements was what he most admired and 



360 Faust, 

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 recognized 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 Menelaus forces him to 
appear in his proper form. Thales makes use of the curiosity 
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 order 
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 development of 
life, constantly evolving higher forms from lower as a part of 
his theory of creation, in accordance with the Wemeriaii sys- 
tem. But when Thales says, in the following scene (page 140): — 

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 consi- 
dered 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 repre- 
sents Nature and bears Homunculus on his back as the embryo 
of the human race, which is to ascend "through thousand, my- 
riad forms" to Man, is entirely consistent 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, indicates the 
dawn of the age of higher Grecian art. Pliny and Theophras- 



Notes, 361 

tus are Goethe's authorities for the sunny weather and pure 
atmosphere of Rhodes. The very movement of the verse sug- 
gests 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 Religioii and Art, and suggests 
Coleridge's "fair humanities of old religion." ' Proteus 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 continual 
progression to Man, side by side with the development of Art, 
in Religion, from the fetich [Cabiri?] 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." 

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, **iinseen 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. Düntzer insists that, being magicians, 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 Doridesf 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 prognosti- 
cations of the coming Beauty, perhaps her symbolized attributes; 



362 Faust. 

and no single explanation could be satisfactory 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 moment; for Beauty increases until human ma- 
turity, then immediately begins to fade. 

1 01. Galatea approaches on her chariot of shell, 

Galatea, the lovely Nereid, here takes the place of Helena, 
as Homuncidus 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; 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 Famesina 
Palace in Rome, represents Galatea standing in a chariot drawn 
by dolphins, who are driven by a Cupid. Around her are 
Tritons, blowing their conchshells, and embracing the attendant 
Nereids. 

It is only a passing glimpse which the poet allows. Thales 
has hardly finished his psean to Water, as the creating and 
sustaining principle of life, when the triumphal processiqn 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? 

Homunculus sees at once the beginning and the perfect 
result of existence. Beauty is all around him: his imprisoning 
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 animalculse of the Ocean. 

Some, here, imagine that Homunculus represents Eros; 
others that he is Galatea (!); others that he is Faust's aesthetic 
passion. I will only say that to one who has closely studied 
Goethe's life; who has detected how the crjimped and restricted 



Notes. 363 

«existence in Weimar became almost unendurable to him, how 
a new freedom came through his acquaintance 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 effusion of free and joyous desire to 
•create a new being for himself, — to such a one, both symbols, 
which are here united in Homunculus, becomfe clearly intelligible. 
If, in the Boy 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 find symbolized in Homunculus the struggle which resulted 
in that sesthetic 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 Ro- 
mantic elements in his own poetry, commencing with IpHgenia 
in Tauris zxA 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 begotten from 
them. We are reminded of one of Goethe's epigrams: — 

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 born 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 y 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 attach- 
ment. It represents, indeed, in one seAse, the sesthetic develop- 
ment 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 itself demands no such elaboration. The 
chief motive which governed Goethe was the reconciliation of 
the Classic and the Romantic: this dictated the form of the 
•episode, which is quite as remarkable as its substance. Goethe, 
himself recognized the preponderance of the latter allegory, and 
at one time debated whether he should not complete the Helena 
as a separate work. It was perhaps Schiller's death which 
prevented the fulfilment of this plan. 



364 Faust 

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 i-Soo. We can scarcely be 
wrotig in assuming that the earlier scenes, read at the Court 
of Weimar in 1 780, were of an entirely different character, and 
that nothing of them was retained. At that time the terms 
"Classic" and "Romantic" were not heard: Schiller's esay 
"On Naive and» Sentimental Poetry" led to that literary dis- 
cussion 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 under- 
stood that no special explanation 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 Alterthuniy in an article 
which must needs be quoted entire:* — 

"HELENA. INTERLUDE IN FAUST. 

"Faust's character, in the elevation to which latter refine- 
ment, working on the old rude tradition, has raised it, repre- 
sents a man who, feeling impatient and imprisoned within the 
limits of mere earthly existence, regards the possession of the 
highest knowledge, the enjoyment of the fairest 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 
attempting it obtained approval: distinguished men considered 
the matter, and commented on ray performance; all which I 
thankfiilly observed. At the same time I could not but wonder 
that none of those who undertook a continuation and com- 
pletion 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 circumstances. 

"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 careftiUy guarded 

* I borrow Carlyle's translation from his article "Goethe's 
Helena," in the Foreign Review, 1828. 



Notes, 365 

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 contrary, 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 Fausty shall be forthwith presented in the first 
portion of my Works. 

**The wide chasm beetwcen 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 
Oreece; 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 per- 
son, out of Orcus into Life, must, in this stage of the business, 
remain undiscovered. For the present, it is enough if our reader 
will admit that the l^eal Helena may step forth, on antique 
tragedy-cothurnus, before her primitive abode in Sparta. We 
then request him to observe 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 ^schylus. 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 wonderfiilly 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 rhjrme, 
after Faust's appearance, I have been able to retain the exact 
metres, while giving the lines very nearly as Hterally as in a 
prose translation. 

Carlyle, whose version of this passage and of Helena's 
description of the encounter with Phorkyas is so excellent, that, 
had he given us the whole Act, no other translation would 



366 Faust, 

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 mind^, 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 modem levity, beheld afar 
off, in clear light, the very figures of that old grave time; saw 
them again living in their old antiquarian costume and envi» 
ronment, and heard them audibly discourse in a dialect which 
had long been dead. Of all this, no man is more master 
than Goethe." 

105. Phorkyas. 

t 

The reader will not have forgotten the transformation of 
Mephistopheles into a Phorkyad (page 128), in the Classical 
Walpurgis-Night, and will thus understand how he, as the Spirit 
of Negation, here appears in a female mask, as Ugliness, to 
torment and threaten Beauty. Carlyle says : **There is a sarcastic 
malice in the *wise old Stewardess' which cannot be mistaken.** 

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 Cho- 
rus evidently consists of twelve, of whom six (one Semichorus) 
now speak. 

107. To hifHi the Vision ^ /, a Vision , 7ved myself. 

The German word is Idol {^eidolon): I follow Carlyle in 
translating it "Vision," although the word "wraith" expresses 
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. Pro- 
fessor Lehrs {Populäre Aufsätze aus dem Alterthum) says: "He 



Notes. 367 

(Stesichorus) was probably the inventor of the fable of the airy 
image, which he connected with the legend of Helena's resid- 
ence in Egypt, and which he appear to have formed from the 
analogy of the eidolon of ^Eneas, about which the armies fight 
in the Iliad, and of that which Here substituted for herself, for 
the embraces of Ixion." Her captivity in Egypt and her rescue 
from King Proteus, there, is the subject of the Helena of Eu- 
ripides. 

The union of Achilles , called from the shades , to Helena, 
on the island of Leuke, in Pontus (not Pherse, as Groethe 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 appears 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 demanded, 
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 Hum- 
boldt), 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 development 
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 details." 

108. Queen i 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 (Eu- 
ripides, among others) to a story of her having been sacrificed. 
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: the summoning 
of the dwarfs to prepare for the sacrifice is but a^rim joke: 
she is bound, as Mephistopheles , to obey Faust's command. 
Her threat of death to the Chorus is suggested by the punishment 



363 Faust. 

which Telemachus, in the Odyssey (Book XXIT.), 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 "sunbright atmosphere" of the Helena^ and Carlyle uses 
nearly the same expression: "It has everywhere 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 Modem Song. The two elements are equally repre- 
sented in the external art, and in the characters, of the In- 
terlude. 

This must be borne in mind, when we attempt to find a 
special symbolism in every detail. Some things are undoubtedly 
introduced for the sake of artistic tone; others, again, for their 
intrinsic picturesqueness ; others, perhaps, are the result of fleet- 
ing 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 modem world. A full 
and consistent allegory is here impossible; but, through the dis- 
solving forais 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 ^freeglfts" of which Phorkyas speaks refer 
to the mediaeval custom of purchasing security of the feudal 
barons; but the circumstance that Goethe has italicized the 
word hints of some particular significance, which I cannot dis- 
cover, The description of Gothic architecture and the coats- 
of-amis 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 historical 
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 



Notes ^ 369 

laid the antique culture in the grave of Barbarism, 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 Barbarians of the Cimmerian 
North." 

Carlyle says of the. remarkable Chorus, wherein the cha* 
racters 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 (i^schylus) and got into the Vtda es 
Sueno (Calderon). The action, too, becomes more and more 
typical; or, rather, we should say, half-typical; 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 introduction 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 appearance of 
a new type of human beauty. The doubt and uncertainty of 
Helena and the Chorus, on finding tliemselves 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 barbai-ism; 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 mediaeval walls meet the gaze of the daughter of 
Greece, accustomed to freedom and to nature; she stands alone, 
unwelcomed on alien soil, for the Romantic world had in the 
beginning no recognition for the lovely guest from afar." 

Faust. II. , a\ 

i 



3/0 Faust, 

112. Whose duty slighted cheated nie 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 Fcutst, — 
not even the Faust of the Classical Walpurgis-Night, — but the 
new, virile element in Literature and Art, the growth of the 
Middle Ages, now so far developed 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 this hero of 
the drama. 

The Warder, Lynceus (pilot of the Argonauts), whom he 
leads in chains to Helena's feet, is variously interpreted. Ac- 
cording to some, he represents both the Provencal troubadours 
and the German Minnesingers, — the poets of love, who, with 
all their sharp-sightedness, saw not the true art. Carlyle's guess 
seems to me more successful: «We cailnot but suspect him of 
being a School Philosopher, or School Philosophy itself, in dis- 
guise." 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. 

113. In the South arose the sun, 

"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 necessary, 
in these Notes. The text suggests a wealth of allusions, 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 guid- 
ing hint, and the one wh» takes up the Second Part of Faust 
for a simple recreation will never return to it again. 

With Ljmceus, rhyme, and the Romantic metre first appear, 
although, for a short distance further, the Classic characters 
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 



Notes. 371 

of the verses seems to be, that all which War and Colonization 
achieved — territory, power, wealth, permanence ~- becomes null 
and vain beside this new vision. It can only be restored, and 
to a better value, through the abiding presence of the Beautiful, 
the worship of which is the crowning element of Civilization. 

115. Each sound appeared as yielding to the next. 

Goethe has taken a Persian legend (related in his own 
IVest'CEstlicher 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 Ro- 
mantic 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 lov- 
ing mutual approach of the two. The allegory becomes so 
incarnate in the chief characters 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 yielding, 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 in- 
tended to satirize Rhyme itself, — so violent is their contrast to 
the melting speech of Helena and Faust. The interpenetration 
of the ancient and modem 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 classic forms until the 
appearance of Euphorion, when the transition is complete. 

116. Signals, explosions from the towers. 

Dünfzer conjectures that these "explosions" give us a liint 
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 romantic, chivalrous 
spirit, which was expressed in the Minnesingers and Trouba- 
clours, as the forerunners of Modem Literature. The apportion- 
ment of the Peloponnesus (except Sparta and Arcadia) among 
the Dukes is certainly a literary rather than an historical sym- 
bol. The literatures of the German, the Goth (Spain), the 
Frank and the Norman (England) share equally in t\as, Oäsäv:. 

1^ 



372 Faust. 

inheritance. May we not guess, then, that, as Helena is Qiieen 
over all, her special Spartan and Arcadian realm, wherein the 
Romantic, or Modem 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, be/ore 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 ge- 
neration, 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 manifested than 
in these stanzas of the aged Goethe. We are reminded, it is 
true, of Ovid, Horace, and othfer ancient poets, and of Tasso's 
"O, bella eta 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 
Messehe 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 ih the green vale of the Alpheus, — I felt both 
the magic of the name and its immemorial cause. The moun- 
tains, 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 the Seclusion which 
seems to brood like a blessing over every landscape, must have 
been an inspiration to the earliest poet who sang to its people. 
Let it still continue to be a nafbe for the dream of the pure 
and perfect life which Poetry predicts, and will predict forever! 

118. 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 translator* 
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 



Notes, 373 

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 interlinked. 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, also J 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 transaction; but 
of these Phorkyas gives her silly women no hint whatever." — 
Carlyle. 

"If the French only recognize the Helena, they will perceive 
what may be mkde 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 monsters, which, 
indeed, is already indicated in one passage." — Goethe to Ecker- 
mann, 1 83 1. 

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 ad- 
dresses in Act II., Scene I., and Act IV. For my part, 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). ; Phor- 
kyas , 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 hjrmn and Lucian's dialogues of 
the Gods. There is, perhaps, a "poetic-didactical 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 thun- 
derbolts of Zeus, the Father. 

121. EUPHORION. 

In the original legend, Faust has by Helena a son, to whom 



37 4 Faust, 

he gives the name of Justus 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 
i Achilles (recalled from Hades) on the island of Leuke. This 
son, bom 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 outest, three positive circumstances to guide 
us. Euphorion is here, as when he formerly appeared in the 
Boy Charioteer, Poetry > he is bom 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 as a boy at Harrow. We are able to fix 
both the time and the special influences which led to the in- 
troduction of Byron; and, moreover, the point in the allegory 
where the change commences may be easily detected. 

Neither as we know him, nor as Goethe knew him, could 
Byron be the child of Faust and Helena: the only modem 
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 har- 
moniously blended the two elements in his highest achievement, 
as Groethe himself. His Iphigenia in Tauris, Tasso, Hermann 
and Dorothea, and Die Natürliche Tochter (a singularly n^lected 
masterpiece), will suggest themselves as illustrations, to all who 
are acquainted with his works. Besides, the order in which 
the three boyish sprites are introduced reflects the order of his 
own development. 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 straggle 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 isola- 
tion, 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 patience" on which he relied for a full aad 
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 athmosphere too long to see either vanity or arrogance, 



Notes, 375 

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, everchanging, rhymed dithyrambic, 
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 en- 
deavoring to reproduce it may have passed into the English 
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 ad- 
ditional meaning of the Family to her relation with Faust. 
The stanza, certainly, has this character, but only incidentally: 
the reference is too slight to be applied to the entire allegory. 

122. Midst of Pelopi land. 

Kindred in soul */ 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 incidents 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 Eu- 
phorion is very gradually introduced, and is first declared in 
the above lines. 

Byron became acquainted with the Firat Part of Faust 
through Shelley, in i8i6. There was at that time no English 
translation of the work, and he offiered to give a hundred 
pounds if he could have it in English, for his private perusal. 
His Manfred^ which was written immediately afterwards, betrays 
the strong impression which Faust left on his mind, — an im- 
pression which Goethe instantly detected, on first reading Man- 
fred^ the following year. The two poets appear to have oc- 
casionally exchanged greetings, through common acquaintances, 
and it was the wish of both that they might meet. Byron 
dedicated his tragedy oi Sardanapalus to Goethe, in words, the 
like of which a poet has rarely addressed to one of his con- 
temporaries: «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 oh<\v 



376 Faust, 

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 Leghorn, 
was their only approach towards a nearer intercourse. Goethe 
was engaged in completing the Helena^ in 1 826, when Mr. Mur- 
ray, the publisher, sent him the autograph of the Dedication 
to Sardauapalus ; 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 another of the additional 
influences which, in combination, led him to change the cha- 
racter 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 Jnilitary 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 success- 
ful; but I will not betray it to you. Then time brought me 
Byron and Missolonghi, and I let all else go. You have re- 
marked, 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 reflective, 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 
Eckermaim'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 material, of the highest in- 
terest 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 expecta- 
tion, and always better than one's own preconceived solution." 



Notes, 377 

"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 Eng- 
land, 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 discomfort, 
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, wilfiilness, and grandiose manner, is it 
not an element of development? We must avoid seeking that 
element exclusively in what is decisively pure and ethical. All 
that is ^s^eat, as soon as we appreciate it^ furthers our develop- 
ment." 

"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 expan- 
sion of his powers. He had reached the climax of his creative 
force, and, whatever he might have afterwards accomplished, 
he could scarcely have enlarged the borders within which his 
talents were already confined." 

From. these, and other utterances of Goethe, it is very evi- 
dent that what he most admired in Byron was not the har- 
monious union of the Classic and Romantic elements; not the 
artistic perfection of form ; not the breadth and vitality 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 sen- 
timent of Nature pervaded and exalted by Imagination, and 
that virile power of transmitting himself to other minds, which 
we never can clearly analyze. M. Matthew Arnold has de- 
clared 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 conftision of his life 
and the dross of his simulated misanthropy. 



37^ Faust. 

123. The path to Glory opens now. 

The Chonis entreats Euphorion to bide in the peaceful 
Arcadian land of Poetry: and his answer is entirely in accord 
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 preceding 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 concluding portion of the Helena, 
It is strangely suggested here, in spite of the allegory, and 
the difference of metre. 

124. Chorus. {Dirge?^ 

Here all allegory is thrown aside: the four stanzas are a 
lament, not for Euphorion, but for Byron. They express Goe- 
the'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,"— 

we are forced to forget the part she plays. She, — Mephisto- 
pheles 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 remainder 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 
evelation upon the clouds into which her garments are trans- 
formed, is not difficult to guess. The Ideal Bauty 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 individtml life. 

Panthalis, the Chorage, is the only member of the Chorus 
vfYio has manifested an individual character throughout the In- 



Notes, 379 

terlude; consequently she retains it here, where the pther 
members are about to be lost in the elements. We are re- 
minded, by what she says, of Goethe's vague surmises in regard 
to the future life. He hints on more than one occasion that 
a strong, independent individually may preserve its entelechie 
(actual, distinctive being), while the majss of persons in whom 
the • human elements are comparatively formless will continue 
to exist only in those elernents. In 1829, he said to Ecker- 
mann: "I do not doubt our permanent 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 Humboldt, 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 immutable. Whatever cannot thus individually shape 
itself, may return into the universal life of Nature." 

127. Mature i 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 ^^•ith this disposition of an antique feature 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 Mo- 
dern 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 fa- 
ble, 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 in- 
tended, 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 temple 
of Bacchus. 

128. The courlain falls. 

Düntzei- interprets the Bacchanalian description as a picture 
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 Mephistopheles. Per- 
haps this may indicate that the element of Ugliness and Evil 
was not lost to the human race when the historical curtain 



380 Faust 

fell on the beautiful culture of the Greeks, but remained as the 
sole link of union between the ancient and modem worlds! 

The epiloge, which Goethe apparently planned, was never 
written. Indeed, after the publication of the Helena^ in 1827» 
he scarcely again looked at its pages. 

1 29. 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, Fausf s 
soliloquy has also the character of an echo and 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 horzion, and the stony summits of 
actual life are again under his feet. 

Goethe began to write Act IV. about the middle of February, 
1 83 1. The apparent calm with which he received the news of 
his son's death was followed by an alarming hemorrhage, an4 
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 Faust; but that marvellous second 
springj-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 conception. His original 
design for the Act had been given up, and the present sub- 
stance was evidently adopted, perhaps at the last moment, be- 
cause it offered fewer difficulties of execution. 

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 clue thereto has Seen 
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; 



Notes, 381 

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 Death deals unawares upon herj 
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. 



9 

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. 

Speak with the Pious of their virtue's pay , 
.Speak with Ixion of the cloud's embraces, 

With kings, of rank and rightfiil sway, 

Of Freedom and Equality, with the races! 

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 sphet«, 
And willingly an earnest counsel heeds. 

'• With this intention I depart from thee. 
But here, triumphant, soon again shall be. 

M5PHIST0PHELES. 
The^i go, with all thy splendid gifts, and try it! 
I like to see a fool for other fools concerned: • 



38^ Faust, 

Each finds his counsel good enough* nor seeks to buy it. 
But money, when he lacks it, won't be spurned. 



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 infernal origin 
for them. Goethe*s hostility to the Plutonic theory is again 
exhibited here, and with more of his irritation than in the 
Classical Walpurgis-Night. The episode is so unnecessary (as 
the Germans would say, unmotivirt) that we can only explain 
it by the conjecture that something must have occurred in the 
scientific world, about the beginning of the year 1 831, 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 sufficiently plain. 

131. A mystery manifest and well coftcealed. 

Here, in the original, Riemer has added the reference: 
^''Ephesians vi. I2," which I have omitted. The text is: "For 
wc wrestle not against fiesh and blood, but against principa- 
lities, 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 insinuate 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. 



Notes, 383 

132. Ö*er all the land the foreign blocks you spy there. 

In Febraary, 1829, Goethe said to Eckennann: "Herr von 
Buch has published a new work, which contains an hypothesis 
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 Blocke is the common German term for "boulders." 
The reader, familiar with the science of our day, must re- 
member that the glacial theory was then unknown. Mephis- 
topheles continues Goethe*s satire by attributing the scattered 
boulders to the effects of Moloch's hammer, and mentions, in 
verification, the correspondence of popular superstition, 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: Mat- 
thew iv." It is of course, the eighth verse to which he refers : 
"Again, the devil taketh him up into an exceedingly high moun- 
tain, and showeth him all the kingdoms of the world and the 
glory of them." The temptation of Christ was evidently Goe- 
the'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 JParali- 
pomena 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 Mephistopheles gives, it 
is propable that Paris was intended; for the succeeding picture 
of "a pleasure-castle in a pleasant place" is undoubtedly Ver- 
sailles. Since the scene was written early in 1831, the pre- 
ceding July Revolution was probably fresh in Goethe's memory, 
and we may thus explain Faust's apparent cynicism. 

135« Mine eye was drawn to view the open Ocean, 
In this description, from first to last, we recognize Goethe, 



384 Faust, 

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 
grand Chant of the Archangels (Prologue in Heaven) represents 
their endless operation, and is thus prophetic of Faust's sphere 
of activity. Society and Government have not satisfied the 
cravings of his nature; the Ideal, though its consecration is 
peröianent, 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. 

We must suppose that Mephistopheles, bound to obedience, 
unwillingly serves in the fulfilment of plans which he cannot 
comprehend. Although he implicates Faust in the coming mili- 
tary movements, ostensibly for the purpose of acquiring posses- 
sion 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.. Mephisto- 
pheles naturally casts upon the priesthood the heaviest respon- 
sibility for the anarchy of the realm, and here, again, we have 
another view which Goethe frequently expressed. 

137. No! But I ^ve brought like Peter Squence, 

Shakespeare's Peter Quince becomes, in some English farce 
into which the comic parts of the "Midsummer Nighfs Dream'* 
were worked, pedant and schoolmaster; and in Gryphius's trans- 
lation of this farce was introduced to Germany as "Herr Peter 
Squence." — Diintzer, 

138. The Three Mighty men appear. 

Riemer here inserts the reference **2 Samuel xxiil. 8." But 
only the.p&rase seems to have .been borrowed from the de- 
scription of the three mighty men of David. The character given 
to the "allegoric blackguards" of Mephistopheles is not sug- 
gested by anything in Samuel, or the corresponding account 
in I Chronicles xi. 

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 ä typo- 
graphical chart. We find the Emperor, also, precisely as we 



Notes, 385 

left him in Act I., a weak, amiable ruler, with fitful impulses 
which he mistakes for qualities of character, always plamiing 
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 Teal and the technical are 
singularly interfused with the supernatural, 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 y in crystals and their silence , furled. 

Precisely what Goethe intends to hint in this line is un- 
certain. It can scarcely bS crystallomancy, as one of the forms 
of divination; nor, as Düntzer says, "wonderful phases of crystal- 
lization, 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 Archbishop- 
Chancellor afterwards mentions the same incident, in the v^ry 
opposite sense. In one of the notes which Goethe attached to 
his translation of the Autobiography of Benvenuto Cellini, we 
detect the original material from which he constructed this pas- 
sage : — 

"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 of the 
Sibyls. Old writers of Romance made use of this locality in 
order to conduct their heroes through the most wonderful ad- 
ventures, and thus incresaed 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, re- 
late strange occurrences, by which curious travellers have been 
surprised in that fegion; and Messer Cecco di Ascoli, who was 
burned in Florence in the year 1327, on account of his necro- 
mantic writings, is still remembered, through the interest felt, 
in his history by the chroniclers, painters, and poets." 

* 142. 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 

Faust. IL 1^ 



386 Faust. 

flattery, which would have been more appropriate to Mephi- 
stopheles. 

143. Bully {coming forward). 

The original of this name is Raufebold ^ and those of the 
other Mighty Men Habebald (accompanied by the vivandure. 
Eilebeute) and Haltefest, The first verse of Isaiah viiL: "More- 
over, 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 
Menschengriffel Raubebald^ Eilebeute J* 

I applied to the Rev. Dr. Conant for the exact interpre- 
tation of the Hebrew words, and take the liberty of quoting 
his reply: — 

**Hdebald and Eilebeute were suggested to Goethe by the 
symbolic name, Maker-shalal'kash-bai, the meaning of this name 
{hasten the spoilt 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, 
expressess it well by Raubebald Eilebeute. Goethe was familiar 
with same forms, transposed, 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 oi Habebald ^ at the head of the central phalanx. 

"Half the Hebrew name he has given to the vwandiere, in- 
troduced (as I suppose) both to enliven the representation and 
to characterize another revolting accompaniment of war, "die 
Frau ist grimmig wenn sie greift" etc. Hence the other half 
of the name, Raubebald, he is obliged to transform to Habe- 
bald, 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 hu- 
man 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 desoription of his attack of "cannon fever" in the "Cam» 
paign in France" (1792). The passage is too long to be quoted; 
hnt the circumstance that the entire field of battle appeared 



Notes, 387 

to be tinged with a red color is here introduced. 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 become 
bewildered and somewhat alarmed, by a sign in the air, such 
as is described by Homer (lUad, XII.) and Plutarch ( Timoleon), 
Goethe certainly designed, by these features, 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. TTie ^hing is done! — 

The apparent advantage of the enemy, in carrying the 
position occupied by the left wing of the Empeor's army, makes 
Faust's aid (through Mephistopheles) indispensable to victory. 
The latter, therefore, employs all his magic devices in tumi 
Goethe seems to have ransacked the superstitions 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 re- 
ported 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?**—- 
Diintzer. 

148. '7' is Contribution, — call it so! 

Havequick retorts that the contributions levied by armies ia 
a hostile country are only ahother form of plunder. 

149. Emperor. 

The Alexandrine metre, with alternate masculine and fe^ 
minine rhymes, in which the remainder of the scene is written, 
is not Goethe's invention, as some have supposed. I fi»d\l \sl 



388 Faust. 

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 
on the Imperial system of government All the artificial ritu- 
alism 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 selfish- 
ness which, disregarding the condition of the realm and the 
grievances of the people, only employs itself with the arrange- 
ment of ceremonials. 

150. When newly crowned , thou didst the wizard liberate. 

The reader will have already remarked that the satire of 
this scene is n'ot 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 contrast which grows 
sharper towards the close, the grandeur of intelligent human 
ambition, embodied in Faust, and the narrow greed and self- 
ishness, first of the State, and then of the Church. The in- 
difference of the secular princes becomes almost a virtue, beside 
the bigotry of the Archbishop. The latter refers to the hu- 
manity 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 Mephisto- 
pheles, 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 sacri- 
fices 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, 1 83 1, Goethe said to Eckermann, 
after stating that he had commenced the Fourth Act: "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." 



Notes. 389 

Yet, on the 2d of May, Eckermann writes: "Goethe de- 
lighted 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 elaborate, 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 fa- 
vors 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 sinews, flesh, and 
epidermis." 

Here are apparent contradictions, which, I think, may be 
thus explained: In his letter to Zelter, Goethe simply refers 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 — cer- 
tainly between 1800 and 1806 — and was perhaps intended to 
be the entire Act. At least, it seems probable 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 intelligible. 

Goethe also said : "That which, in my early years, was pos- 
sible to me daily, and under all circumstances, can now only 
be accomplished periodically and unter certain fortunate con- 
ditions Now, I can only work on the Second Part of 

my Faust during the early hours of the day, when I am re- 
stored by sleep, feel myself strengthened and the distractions 
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 manuscript, 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 con- 
strained, 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. 



390 Faust. 

152. Baucis. 

«Goethe showed me to-day the beginning of the Fifth Act 
of Faustf 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, reriiinding me of that famous antique 
pair; but this scene is laid in modem times and in a Christian 
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. H%ere the SecCs 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. 

154. Knceves in vain by day were storming. 

The original line is: ^^Tags umsonst die Knechte lärmten. ^"^ 
Some translators have rendered the word umsonst into "unpaid," 
because it has frequently the meaning of "gratis." The other 
and equally correct rendering is suggested to me by the cir- 
cumstance 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 destruction 
of the Beautiful by the modern Industrial Spirit; but I find in 
him no symbolism whatever, — certainly nothing 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 
EckermdHiXii "is just one hundred years old, according to my 



Notes, 391 

ff 

intention; and I am not certain whether it would not be well 
to express this positively, somewhere." 

156. With tiveniy came to port again, 

Mephistopheles, still forced to serve, turns his .commercial 
into a piratical voyage, and hopes to secure Faust's complicity 
in Evil by tempting him to accept the precious spoils of all 
climes, and the vessels which he has accumulated. His argu- 
ment, that War, Trade, and Piracy are "three in bne," makes 
no impression on Faust, who, as we learn from the Three 
Mighty Men, turns away from the bribe in disgust. 

157. To-morrow 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 earn- 
ings. 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 indicat- 
ing 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 lon^ course 
of successful achievement, in order to understand his pr^ent 
impatience and petulance. He loses all joy in his vast posses- 
sions, 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 whp reflises to sell or exchange 
it. Goethe has borrowed this incident from the story of Fre- 
derick the Great and the miller of Potsdam. 

159. Still Naboth's vineyard we behold, 

Riemer has here inserted a side-reference: "I Kings XXI." 
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 thee 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 H was done, 

Faust, impatient at being so long thwarted in his plans, so 
far yields to Mephistopheles that he consents to emplo^f Cote«:. 



392 Faust, 

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 removal; and Faust, instead of accepting the coveted 
property, curses the rash, inhuman deed. 

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 fhiiik 
it must have been in existence before Schiller's death (1805). 
The atmosphere of the First Part t>egins 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 tree entrance everywhere. Goethe's conception of her being 
seems 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 he, 

Goethe said to Elckermann (1S2S): "But we old Europeans 
are all more or less in evil plight. .... Each is refined and 
polite, but no one has the courage to be cordial and true, so 
that an honest man with natural ideas and impulses stands in 
an unfortunate position. Often one cannot help wishing that 
one had been bom 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 Part, 
Scene IV.) is another evidence of the time when the scene was 
written, for it shows that the original conception was still fresh 



Notes, 393 

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 Tüchtigen ist diese Welt nicht stumm ^ 
is difficult to translate — "To the capable (or genuine) man this 
world is not mute," that is, it revals to him its uses and possi- 
bilities. 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 li^ht, 

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 vdth the external 
darkness comes a growing spiritual light; the "obscure aspi- 
ration" gives place to knowledge and faith. The passage is 
pregnant wth meaning, but nothing in it is vague or doubtful. 

166* Lemures. 

Goethe has here borrowed (probably from Percy's Reliquest 
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. Therefore 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 his stealing steps. 

Hath clawed me in his clutch, 
And hath shipped me into the land. 

As if I have never been such. 

Goethe shows his knowledge of English literature, in restoring 
the line of Lord Vaux: — 

Hath clawed me with his crutch. 

Moreover, his variation of his latter verse, at least, is entirely 
in the spirit of the original. 



394 Faust, 

167. They spake not of a moai, 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 Gräben y doch vom — Grab. 



168. He only earns his freedom and existence ^ 
Who daily conquers them anew. 

In these lines Goethe has unconsciously remembered a pas- 
sage from Schiller's Wilhelm Tell: — 

"Dann erst geniess' ich meines Lebens recht. 
Wenn ich 's mir jeden Tag aufs neu erbeute." 

(Then first do I trtdy 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 s^ts, 
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 commoh 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 
moment of supreme happiness. He has attained it in spite of, 
not through, Mephistopheles. He has blessed his fellow-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 Elements, — has he reached the 
crowning Moment which he would fain delay; the sole con- 
dition of perfect happiness is the good which he has accom- 
plished for others. 



169. But Time is lord, on earth the old man lies. 
Mephistopheles almost quotes the Archbishop (page 245): — 
"Who patient is, and right, his day shall yet arise." 



Notes, 395 

His manner also suggests his words to the Lord, in the PrO' 
logue 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 Ne- 
gation suddenly, and becomes the popular Devil, who is a very 
positive personage. From this point to the end, we are re- 
minded of the Miracle-plays of the Middle Ages. 

1 70. 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." 

171. Hell hath a multitude 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 purpose. The 
open jaws of Hell, as they are still represented in many chapels 
of Catholic countries, and the two varieties of Devils, are in- 
tentionally 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 y H is but a hideous worm. 

This passage is a satirical reference, both to the old tra- 
ditions of the appearance of the soul and its manner of escape 
from the body, and to various psychological speculations of 
recent times. 



396 Faust. ' 

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. AU the contempt of Mephi- 
stopheles for Faust's ideal aspirations seems to be expressed 
m this sneer at "Genius." 

1 74. Is just the thing their prayers demand. 

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 me- 
diaeval theology. Nothing could be more savagely satirical than 
this declaration of Mephistopheles that the worst torments in- 
vented by the fiends are . demanded by the faith of the Pious. 

Härtung says of the appearance of the angels: "Mephisto- 
pheles calls the glory which surrounds them an 'unwelcome 
day,' their chant a *nasty tinkling, a boy-girlish strumming,* 
etc. This is a satire on the Moravian hjmins 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 wonder- 
ful than those of Easter morning, in the First Part. They pre- 
sent an equal difficulty to the translator in their interlinking 
feminine and dactylic rhymes, and perhaps a greater one in 
that imnatural compression of phrase which almost destroys 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! 
Bear Paradise 
To the One who rests! 



Notes, 397 

In the closing scene, the Roses are declared to have been 
scattered by the hands of "loving, sanctified women-penitents." 
They are symbolical of Love; but not yet, as some conmienta- 
tors suggest, of the Divine Love. I agree with Dr. Bloede, 
who in his essay. Die Religions-Philosopkie Goethes, calls them 
^*acts of Love," in which the highest principle of Good, mani- 
fested through Man, overcomes the principle of Evil. 

1 76. Angels. 

The spirit of this Chorus is clear, in the original, but not 
the language. Even a literal translation is impossible unless 
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 German 
interpretations of this chant. 

177. Chorus of Angels. 

The grotesque, mediaeval 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 bum 
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! 



39^ Faust, 

178. IVhat now restrains nte^ that I dare not curse'i 

AVhatever may be said of the coarseness and irreverence of 
this and the following passage (Julian Schmidt, for instance, 
pronoimces them "atrocious"), there could be no more tremen- 
dous illustration of the baseness and blindness of the princij^e 
of Evil, Although Mephistopheles is covered from head to foot, 
like Job, with boils which the burning roses have left behind 
them, he becomes enamored of the beauty of the Angels. In 
this languishing mood he is doubly a Devil, and the Negation 
embodied in him reaches a climax beyond all previous sug- 
gestion, 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! 

180. The old case-Jmrdened Devil went astray. 

The word which I have translated "case-hardened" is oms^ 
gepichten^ 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 Mephistopheles is evi- 
dently that the Angels have taken advantage of his attack of 
"senseless passion" for them, and stolen from him the soul of 
Faust. He understands only the letter of his compact, for re- 
demption through love and beneficent labor for others is to 
him simply incomprehensible. Thus, not only consistent with 
his original character, but illustrating, as never before in the 
whole course of the drama, the eternal ignorance and impotence 
of Evil, he disappears from our sight. 

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 
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, be- 



Notes, 399 

fore or after the other, returns to ether at the summons of the 
World-Spirit! Then may the Eternal not reJEuse 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 (*« die Kämme des Weltgetriebes eingreifen)^ 

The scene (apparently from some hint of Goethe's, which 
has not been recorded*) is taken, according to the best Ger- 
man 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 perfection 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 universal 
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. 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 devotional 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 

* An indirect clew may perhaps be found in the following 
passage from a letter which Wuhelm 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 beautifid 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." 



400 Faust, 

in this ever-rising and ever-swelling symphony, with its one 
theme of the accordance of Hiunan and Divine Love. 

Since it was known that Goethe selected actual figures to 
serve as, at least, an imaginary basis for his spiritual and alle- 
gorical characters, the commentators have exihibeted their re- 
search in endeavoring to fix upon the originals of these Patres. 
Although the title Ecstaticus was bestowed on Dionysius 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 personification of 
that ekstasis, which, as here, would temporarily annihilate the 
material and dissolve t^e 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!" 

183. Pater Profundus. 

We might almost say that the Pater Ecstaticus represents 
Devotion as manifested through temperament or exalted sensa- 
tion; the Pater Profimdus, Devotion as it shapes the intellect, 
which perceives symbols in all things, feels the limitations of 
the senses, and aspires towards Divine Truth as the highest form 
of knowledge; and finally, the Pater Seraphicus 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 do 
Clairvaux, founder of the Cistercian order, two centuries be- 
fore 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 stor^^ 
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 
tlien taken from it before the awakening of sense or mind. 
The meaning seems to be that they are still undeveloped in 
the spiritual world, — in other words, that, in the scale of as- 
cending Being, they have missed our sphere, and feel only the 



Notes, 401 

delight of existence {flllen 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 me- 
dium of these to behold the world?" 

187. Whoever aspires unweariedly 
Is not beyond redeeming. 

Eckermann writes, in June, 1 83 1 : "We then spoke of the 
closing scene, and Goethe called my attention to the following 
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. 
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 Tound. 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 accomplish ; 
and also that I might very easily have lost myself in vagueness, 
in such supernatural, hardly conceivable surroundings, if I had 
not given a favorably restricting form and firmness to my poetic 
designs, through the sharp outlines of Christian-ecclesiastical 
figures and representations." 

188. Eternal love, alone. 
Can separate them. 

This passage is somewhat obscure, because it attempts to 
Faust. II. 2.^ 



402 Faust, 

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. 

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 soiil of Faust is now given into 
the hands of the Blessed Boys. 

189. Doctor Marianus. 

Some sec in this name a reference to Marianus Scot us, 
who died, as an eremite, in 1086. Others, again, suppose it 
to h^ the celestial name of Faust ^ although the soul of the latter 
has not yet awakened to the change. The title "Doctor" im- 
presses us singularly, after the Patres ^ 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 representative 
of the sweetest and tenderest attribute of the Deity. This va- 
riation from the Prologue tn 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 myst necessarily accept the spirit with it! Nevertheless, a 
Catholic writer, Wilhelm von Schütz,* sees in this scene the 
evidence that Goethe was dissatisfied with "the palliative poverty of 

* Goethe's Faust und der Protestantismus. Manuscript für 
Katholiken imd Freunde« Bamberg, 1844. 



Notes, 403 

the Protestant spirit," and had almost reached Catholicism at 
the close of his life ! On the other hand, Dr. Bärens * illustrates 
almost every portion of the scene by passages from the New 
Testament, and Pastor Cliidiusf 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 Pan- 
theism," and we can appreciate the height of Goethe's mind 
above all sectarian or theological boundaries. 

191. Magna Peccatrix. 

I have retained the references attached to this and the two 
following stanzas, because I am not sure whether they were ori- 
ginally written by Goethe, or afterwards added by Riemer. Mar : 
Magdalene and the Woman of Samaria require no commenty 
Mary of Kgyi)t is described in the Acta Satutorum as an in- 
famous woman of Alexandria, who, after seventeen years of 
vice, made a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. On approaching the 
door of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, 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 Jordan, 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 highest 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 be- 
comes a strain of unutterable joy. The Blessed Boys approach, 
bearing the soul of Faust, already overtowering them as it grows 
into consciousness 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 disguises and shining like the 

* Der zweite Theil und insbesondere die Schlussscene der 
Goetheschen Fausttragödie. Hannover, 1854. 

f Goethe's Faust als Apologie des Christenthums. 



404 Faust 

Holy Host. But we hear no voice: we only know that it 
awakens. 

193. IVJiOi feeling thce^ shall follmv then. 

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, in- 
asmuch 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 through- 
out the scene. Love is the all-upKfting and all-redeeming 
power on Earth and in Heaven; and to Man it is revealed in 
its most pure and perfect form through Woman. Thus, in the 
transitory life of Earth, it is only a symbol of its diviner being; 
the possibilities of Love, which Earth can never fulfil, become 
realities in the higher life which follows; the Spirit, which 
Woman interprets to us here, still draws us upward (as Margaret 
draws the soul of Faust) there. 



LSirZtG : PROTTKO Vt r, A. BBOCKHAtTS. 



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