Chapter II: Part 2

A few steps further, up to yonder stone! Here rest we from our walk. In times long past, Absorb'd in thought, here oft I sat alone, And disciplin'd myself with prayer and fast. Then rich in hope, with faith sincere, With sighs, and hands in anguish press'd, The end of that sore plague, with many a tear, From heaven's dread Lord, I sought to wrest. The crowd's applause assumes a scornful tone. Oh, could'st thou in my inner being read, How little either sire or son, Of such renown deserves the meed! My sire, of good repute, and sombre mood, O'er nature's powers and every mystic zone, With honest zeal, but methods of his own, With toil fantastic loved to brood; His time in dark alchemic cell, With brother adepts he would spend, And there antagonists compel, Through numberless receipts to blend. A ruddy lion there, a suitor bold, In tepid bath was with the lily wed. Thence both, while open flames around them roll'd, Were tortur'd to another bridal bed. Was then the youthful queen descried With varied colours in the flask This was our medicine; the patients died, "Who were restored?" none cared to ask. With our infernal mixture thus, ere long, These hills and peaceful vales among, We rag'd more fiercely than the pest; Myself the deadly poison did to thousands give; They pined away, I yet must live, To hear the reckless murderers blest.

WAGNER

Why let this thought your soul o'ercast? Can man do more than with nice skill, With firm and conscientious will, Practise the art transmitted from the past? If thou thy sire dost honour in thy youth, His lore thou gladly wilt receive; In manhood, dost thou spread the bounds of truth, Then may thy son a higher goal achieve.

FAUST

How blest, in whom the fond desire From error's sea to rise, hope still renews! What a man knows not, that he doth require, And what he knoweth, that he cannot use. But let not moody thoughts their shadow throw O'er the calm beauty of this hour serene! In the rich sunset see how brightly glow Yon cottage homes, girt round with verdant green! Slow sinks the orb, the day is now no more; Yonder he hastens to diffuse new life. Oh for a pinion from the earth to soar, And after, ever after him to strive! Then should I see the world below, Bathed in the deathless evening-beams, The vales reposing, every height a-glow, The silver brooklets meeting golden streams. The savage mountain, with its cavern'd side, Bars not my godlike progress. Lo, the ocean, Its warm bays heaving with a tranquil motion, To my rapt vision opes its ample tide! But now at length the god appears to sink; A new-born impulse wings my flight, Onward I press, his quenchless light to drink, The day before me, and behind the night, The pathless waves beneath, and over me the skies. Fair dream, it vanish'd with the parting day! Alas! that when on spirit-wing we rise, No wing material lifts our mortal clay. But 'tis our inborn impulse, deep and strong, Upwards and onwards still to urge our flight, When far above us pours its thrilling song The sky-lark, lost in azure light, When on extended wing amain O'er pine-crown'd height the eagle soars, And over moor and lake, the crane Still striveth towards its native shores.

WAGNER

To strange conceits oft I myself must own, But impulse such as this I ne'er have known: Nor woods, nor fields, can long our thoughts engage, Their wings I envy not the feather'd kind; Far otherwise the pleasures of the mind, Bear us from book to book, from page to page! Then winter nights grow cheerful; keen delight Warms every limb; and ah! when we unroll Some old and precious parchment, at the sight All heaven itself descends upon the soul.

FAUST

Thy heart by one sole impulse is possess'd; Unconscious of the other still remain! Two souls, alas! are lodg'd within my breast, Which struggle there for undivided reign: One to the world, with obstinate desire, And closely-cleaving organs, still adheres; Above the mist, the other doth aspire, With sacred vehemence, to purer spheres. Oh, are there spirits in the air, Who float 'twixt heaven and earth dominion wielding, Stoop hither from your golden atmosphere, Lead me to scenes, new life and fuller yielding! A magic mantle did I but possess, Abroad to waft me as on viewless wings, I'd prize it far beyond the costliest dress, Nor would I change it for the robe of kings.

WAGNER

Call not the spirits who on mischief wait! Their troop familiar, streaming through the air, From every quarter threaten man's estate, And danger in a thousand forms prepare! They drive impetuous from the frozen north, With fangs sharp-piercing, and keen arrowy tongue From the ungenial east they issue forth, And prey, with parching breath, upon thy lungs; If, waft'd on the desert's flaming wing, They from the south heap fire upon the brain, Refreshment from the west at first they bring, Anon to drown thyself and field and plain. In wait for mischief, they are prompt to hear; With guileful purpose our behests obey; Like ministers of grace they oft appear, And lisp like angels, to betray. But let us hence! Grey eve doth all things blend,

The air grows chill, the mists descend! 'Tis in the evening first our home we prize-- Why stand you thus, and gaze with wondering eyes? What in the gloom thus moves you?

FAUST

Yon black hound See'st thou, through corn and stubble scampering round?

WAGNER

I've mark'd him long, naught strange in him I see!

FAUST

Note him! What takest thou the brute to be?

WAGNER

But for a poodle, whom his instinct serves His master's track to find once more.

FAUST

Dost mark how round us, with wide spiral curves, He wheels, each circle closer than before? And, if I err not, he appears to me A line of fire upon his track to leave.

WAGNER

Naught but a poodle black of hue I see; 'Tis some illusion doth your sight deceive.

FAUST

Methinks a magic coil our feet around, He for a future snare doth lightly spread.

WAGNER

FAUST

The circle narrows, he's already near!

WAGNER

A dog dost see, no spectre have we here; He growls, doubts, lays him on his belly, too, And wags his tail--as dogs are wont to do.

FAUST

Come hither, Sirrah! join our company!

WAGNER

A very poodle, he appears to be! Thou standest still, for thee he'll wait; Thou speak'st to him, he fawns upon thee straight; Aught thou mayst lose, again he'll bring, And for thy stick will into water spring.

FAUST

Thou'rt right indeed; no traces now I see Whatever of a spirit's agency. 'Tis training.--nothing more.

WAGNER

A dog well taught E'en by the wisest of us may be sought. Ay, to your favour he's entitled too, Apt scholar of the students, 'tis his due! (They enter the gate of the town.)

STUDY FAUST (entering with the poodle)

Now field and meadow I've forsaken; O'er them deep night her veil doth draw; In us the better soul doth waken, With feelings of foreboding awe, All lawless promptings, deeds unholy, Now slumber, and all wild desires; The love of man doth sway us wholly, And love to God the soul inspires.

Peace, poodle, peace! Scamper not thus; obey me! Why at the threshold snuffest thou so? Behind the stove now quietly lay thee, My softest cushion to thee I'll throw. As thou, without, didst please and amuse me Running and frisking about on the hill, So tendance now I will not refuse thee; A welcome guest, if thou'lt be still.

Ah! when the friendly taper gloweth, Once more within our narrow cell, Then in the heart itself that knoweth, A light the darkness doth dispel. Reason her voice resumes; returneth Hope's gracious bloom, with promise rife; For streams of life the spirit yearneth, Ah! for the very fount of life.

Poodle, snarl not! with the tone that arises. Hallow'd and peaceful, my soul within, Accords not thy growl, thy bestial din. We find it not strange, that man despises What he conceives not; That he the good and fair misprizes-- Finding them often beyond his ken; Will the dog snarl at them like men?

But ah! Despite my will, it stands confessed, Contentment welleth up no longer in my breast. Yet wherefore must the stream, alas, so soon be dry, That we once more athirst should lie? Full oft this sad experience hath been mine; Nathless the want admits of compensation; For things above the earth we learn to pine, Our spirits yearn for revelation, Which nowhere burns with purer beauty blent,

Than here in the New Testament. To ope the ancient text an impulse strong Impels me, and its sacred lore, With honest purpose to explore, And render into my loved German tongue. (He opens a volume, and applies himself to it.) 'Tis writ, "In the beginning was the Word!" I pause, perplex'd! Who now will help afford? I cannot the mere Word so highly prize; I must translate it otherwise, If by the spirit guided as I read. "In the beginning was the Sense!" Take heed, The import of this primal sentence weigh, Lest thy too hasty pen be led astray! Is force creative then of Sense the dower? "In the beginning was the Power!" Thus should it stand: yet, while the line I trace. A something warns me, once more to efface. The spirit aids! from anxious scruples freed, I write, "In the beginning was the Deed!"

Am I with thee my room to share, Poodle, thy barking now forbear, Forbear thy howling! Comrade so noisy, ever growling, I cannot suffer here to dwell. One or the other, mark me well, Forthwith must leave the cell. I'm loath the guest-right to withhold; The door's ajar, the passage clear; But what must now mine eyes behold! Are nature's laws suspended here? Real is it, or a phantom show? In length and breadth how doth my poodle grow! He lifts himself with threat'ning mien, In likeness of a dog no longer seen! What spectre have I harbour'd thus! Huge as a hippopotamus, With fiery eye, terrific tooth! Ah I now I know thee, sure enough! For such a base, half-hellish brood, The key of Solomon is good.

SPIRITS (without) Captur'd there within is one! Stay without and follow none! Like a fox in iron snare, Hell's old lynx is quaking there, But take heed! Hover round, above, below, To and fro, Then from durance is he freed! Can ye aid him, spirits all, Leave him not in mortal thrall! Many a time and oft bath he Served us, when at liberty.

FAUST

The monster to confront, at first, The spell of Four must be rehears'd;

Salamander shall kindle, Writhe nymph of the wave, In air sylph shall dwindle, And Kobold shall slave.

Who doth ignore The primal Four, Nor knows aright Their use and might, O'er spirits will he Ne'er master be!

Vanish in the fiery glow, Salamander! Rushingly together flow. Undine! Shimmer in the meteor's gleam, Sylphide! Hither bring thine homely aid,

Incubus! Incubus! Step forth! I do adjure thee thus! None of the Four Lurks in the beast: He grins at me, untroubled as before; I have not hurt him in the least. A spell of fear Thou now shalt hear. Art thou, comrade fell, Fugitive from hell?

See then this sign, Before which incline The murky troops of Hell! With bristling hair now doth the creature swell.

Canst thou, reprobate, Read the uncreate, Unspeakable, diffused Throughout the heavenly sphere, Shamefully abused, Transpierced with nail and spear!

Behind the stove, tam'd by my spells, Like an elephant he swells; Wholly now he fills the room, He into mist will melt away. Ascend not to the ceiling! Come, Thyself at the master's feet now lay! Thou seest that mine is no idle threat. With holy fire I will scorch thee yet! Wait not the might That lies in the triple-glowing light! Wait not the might Of all my arts in fullest measure!

MEPHISTOPHELES (As the mist sinks, comes forward from behind the stove, in the dress of a travelling scholar)

Why all this uproar? What's the master's pleasure?

FAUST

This then the kernel of the brute! A travelling scholar? Why I needs must smile.

MEPHISTOPHELES

Your learned reverence humbly I salute! You've made me swelter in a pretty style.

FAUST

Thy name?

MEPHISTOPHELES

The question trifling seems from one, Who it appears the Word doth rate so low; Who, undeluded by mere outward show, To Being's depths would penetrate alone.

FAUST

With gentlemen like you indeed The inward essence from the name we read, As all too plainly it doth appear, When Beelzebub, Destroyer, Liar, meets the ear. Who then art thou?

MEPHISTOPHELES

Part of that power which still Produceth good, whilst ever scheming ill.

FAUST

What hidden mystery in this riddle lies?

MEPHISTOPHELES

The spirit I, which evermore denies! And justly; for whate'er to light is brought Deserves again to be reduced to naught; Then better 'twere that naught should be. Thus all the elements which ye Destruction, Sin, or briefly, Evil, name, As my peculiar element I claim.

FAUST

Thou nam'st thyself a part, and yet a whole I see.

MEPHISTOPHELES

The modest truth I speak to thee. Though folly's microcosm, man, it seems, Himself to be a perfect whole esteems: Part of the part am I, which at the first was all, A part of darkness, which gave birth to light, Proud light, who now his mother would enthrall, Contesting space and ancient rank with night. Yet he succeedeth not, for struggle as he will, To forms material he adhereth still; From them he streameth, them he maketh fair, And still the progress of his beams they check; And so, I trust, when comes the final wreck, Light will, ere long, the doom of matter share.

FAUST

Thy worthy avocation now I guess! Wholesale annihilation won't prevail, So thou'rt beginning on a smaller scale.

MEPHISTOPHELES

And, to say truth, as yet with small success. Oppos'd to naught, this clumsy world, The something--it subsisteth still; Not yet is it to ruin hurl'd, Despite the efforts of my will. Tempests and earthquakes, fire and flood, I've tried; Yet land and ocean still unchang'd abide! And then of humankind and beasts, brood,-- Neither o'er them can I extend my sway. What countless myriads have I swept away! Yet ever circulates the fresh young blood. the accursed

It is enough to drive me to despair! As in the earth, in water, and in air, A thousand germs burst forth spontaneously; In moisture, drought, heat, cold, they still appear! Had I not flame selected as my sphere Nothing apart had been reserved for me.

FAUST

So thou with thy cold devil's fist Still clench'd in malice impotent Dost the creative power resist, The active, the beneficent! Henceforth some other task essay, Of Chaos thou the wondrous son!

MEPHISTOPHELES

We will consider what you say, And talk about it more anon! For this time have I leave to go?

FAUST

Why thou shouldst ask, I cannot see. Since thee I now have learned to know, At thy good pleasure, visit me. Here is the window, here the door, The chimney, too, may serve thy need.

MEPHISTOPHELES

I must confess, my stepping o'er Thy threshold a slight hindrance doth impede; The wizard-foot doth me retain.

FAUST

The pentagram thy peace doth mar? To me, thou son of hell, explain, How earnest thou in, if this thine exit bar? Could such a spirit aught ensnare?

MEPHISTOPHELES

Observe it well, it is not drawn with care, One of the angles, that which points without, Is, as thou seest, not quite closed.

FAUST

Chance hath the matter happily dispos'd! So thou my captive art? No doubt! By accident thou thus art caught!

MEPHISTOPHELES

In sprang the dog, indeed, observing naught; Things now assume another shape, The devil's in the house and can't escape.

FAUST

Why through the window not withdraw?

MEPHISTOPHELES

For ghosts and f or the devil 'tis a law. Where they stole in, there they must forth. We're free The first to choose; as to the second, slaves are we.

FAUST

E'en hell hath its peculiar laws, I see! I'm glad of that! a pact may then be made, The which you gentlemen will surely keep?

MEPHISTOPHELES

What e'er therein is promised thou shalt reap, No tittle shall remain unpaid. But such arrangements time require; We'll speak of them when next we meet; Most earnestly I now entreat, This once permission to retire.

FAUST

Another moment prithee here remain, Me with some happy word to pleasure.

MEPHISTOPHELES

Now let me go! ere long I'll come again, Then thou may'st question at thy leisure.

FAUST

'Twas not toy purpose thee to lime; The snare hast entered of thine own free will: Let him who holds the devil, hold him still! So soon he'll catch him not a second time.

MEPHISTOPHELES

If it so please thee, I'm at thy command; Only on this condition, understand; That worthily thy leisure to beguile, I here may exercise my arts awhile.

FAUST

Thou'rt free to do so! Gladly I'll attend; But be thine art a pleasant one!

MEPHISTOPHELES My friend, This hour enjoyment more intense, Shall captivate each ravish'd sense, Than thou could'st compass in the bound Of the whole year's unvarying round; And what the dainty spirits sing, The lovely images they bring, Are no fantastic sorcery. Rich odours shall regale your smell, On choicest sweets your palate dwell, Your feelings thrill with ecstasy.

No preparation do we need, Here we together are. Proceed.

SPIRITS

Hence overshadowing gloom, Vanish from sight! O'er us thine azure dome, Bend, beauteous light! Dark clouds that o'er us spread, Melt in thin air! Stars, your soft radiance shed, Tender and fair. Girt with celestial might, Winging their airy flight, Spirits are thronging. Follows their forms of light Infinite longing! Flutter their vestures bright O'er field and grove! Where in their leafy bower Lovers the livelong hour Vow deathless love. Soft bloometh bud and bower! Bloometh the grove! Grapes from the spreading vine Crown the full measure; Fountains of foaming wine Gush from the pressure. Still where the currents wind, Gems brightly gleam. Leaving the hills behind On rolls the stream; Now into ample seas, Spreadeth the flood; Laying the sunny leas, Mantled with wood. Rapture the feather'd throng, Gaily careering, Sip as they float along; Sunward they're steering; On towards the isles of light Winging their way, That on the waters bright Dancingly play. Hark to the choral strain, Joyfully ringing! While on the grassy plain Dancers are springing; Climbing the steep hill's side, Skimming the glassy tide, Wander they there; Others on pinions wide Wing the blue air; All lifeward tending, upward still wending, Towards yonder stars that gleam, Far, far above; Stars from whose tender beam Rains blissful love.

MEPHISTOPHELES

Well done, my dainty spirits! now he slumbers! Ye have entranc'd him fairly with your numbers! This minstrelsy of yours I must repay,-- Thou art not yet the man to hold the devil fast!-- With fairest shapes your spells around him cast, And plunge him in a sea of dreams! But that this charm be rent, the threshold passed, Tooth of rat the way must clear. I need not conjure long it seems, One rustles hitherward, and soon my voice will hear. The master of the rats and mice, Of flies and frogs, of bugs and lice, Commands thy presence; without fear Come forth and gnaw the threshold here, Where he with oil has smear'd it.--Thou Com'st hopping forth already! Now To work! The point that holds me bound Is in the outer angle found. Another bite--so--now 'tis done-- Now, Faustus, till we meet again, dream on.

FAUST (awaking) Am I once more deluded! must I deem That thus the throng of spirits disappear? The devil's presence, was it but a dream? Hath but a poodle scap'd and left me here?

STUDY FAUST. MEPHISTOPHELES

FAUST

A knock? Come in! Who now would break my rest?

MEPHISTOPHELES

'Tis I!

FAUST

Come in!

MEPHISTOPHELES

Thrice be the words express'd.

FAUST

Then I repeat, Come in!

MEPHISTOPHELES

'Tis well, I hope that we shall soon agree! For now your fancies to expel, Here, as a youth of high degree, I come in gold-lac'd scarlet vest, And stiff-silk mantle richly dress'd, A cock's gay feather for a plume, A long and pointed rapier, too; And briefly I would counsel you To don at once the same costume, And, free from trammels, speed away, That what life is you may essay.

FAUST

In every garb I needs must feel oppress'd, My heart to earth's low cares a prey. Too old the trifler's part to play, Too young to live by no desire possess'd. What can the world to me afford? Renounce! renounce! is still the word; This is the everlasting song In every ear that ceaseless rings, And which, alas, our whole life long, Hoarsely each passing moment sings. But to new horror I awake each morn, And I could weep hot tears, to see the sun Dawn on another day, whose round forlorn Accomplishes no wish of mine--not one. Which still, with froward captiousness, impains E'en the presentiment of every joy, While low realities and paltry cares The spirit's fond imaginings destroy. Then must I too, when falls the veil of night, Stretch'd on my pallet languish in despair, Appalling dreams my soul affright; No rest vouchsafed me even there. The god, who throned within my breast resides, Deep in my soul can stir the springs; With sovereign sway my energies he guides, He cannot move external things; And so existence is to me a weight. Death fondly I desire, and life I hate.

MEPHISTOPHELES

And yet, methinks, by most 'twill be confess'd That Death is never quite a welcome guest.

FAUST

Happy the man around whose brow he binds The bloodstain'd wreath in conquest's dazzling hour; Or whom, excited by the dance, he finds Dissolv'd in bliss, in love's delicious bower! O that before the lofty spirit's might, Enraptured, I had rendered up my soul!

MEPHISTOPHELES

Yet did a certain man refrain one night, Of its brown juice to drain the crystal bowl.

FAUST

To play the spy diverts you then?

MEPHISTOPHELES

I own, Though not omniscient, much to me is known.

FAUST

If o'er my soul the tone familiar, stealing, Drew me from harrowing thought's bewild'ring maze, Touching the ling'ring chords of childlike feeling, With sweet harmonies of happier days: So curse I all, around the soul that windeth Its magic and alluring spell, And with delusive flattery bindeth Its victim to this dreary cell! Curs'd before all things be the high opinion, Wherewith the spirit girds itself around! Of shows delusive curs'd be the dominion, Within whose mocking sphere our sense is bound! Accurs'd of dreams the treacherous wiles, The cheat of glory, deathless fame! Accurs'd what each as property beguiles, Wife, child, slave, plough, whate'er its name! Accurs'd be mammon, when with treasure He doth to daring deeds incite: Or when to steep the soul in pleasure, He spreads the couch of soft delight! Curs'd be the grape's balsamic juice! Accurs'd love's dream, of joys the first! Accurs'd be hope! accurs'd be faith! And more than all, be patience curs'd!

CHORUS OP SPIRITS (invisible)

Woe! woe! Thou hast destroy'd The beautiful world With violent blow; 'Tis shiver'd! 'tis shatter'd! The fragments abroad by a demigod scatter'd! Now we sweep The wrecks into nothingness! Fondly we weep The beauty that's gone! Thou, 'mongst the Sons of earth, Lofty and mighty one, Build it once more! In thine own bosom the lost world restore! Now with unclouded sense Enter a new career; Songs shall salute thine ear, Ne'er heard before!

MEPHISTOPHELES

My little ones these spirits be. Hark! with shrewd intelligence, How they recommend to thee Action, and the joys of sense! In the busy world to dwell, Fain they would allure thee hence: For within this lonely cell, Stagnate sap of life and sense.

Forbear to trifle longer with thy grief, Which, vulture-like, consumes thee in this den. The worst society is some relief, Making thee feel thyself a man with men. Nathless, it is not meant, I trow, To thrust thee 'mid the vulgar throng.

I to the upper ranks do not belong; Yet if, by me companion'd, thou Thy steps through life forthwith wilt take; Upon the spot myself I'll make Thy comrade;-- Should it suit thy need, I am thy servant, am thy slave indeed!

FAUST

And how must I thy services repay?

MEPHISTOPHELES

Thereto thou lengthen'd respite hast!

FAUST

No! No! The devil is an egoist I know: And, for Heaven's sake, 'tis not his way Kindness to any one to show. Let the condition plainly be exprest! Such a domestic is a dangerous guest.

MEPHISTOPHELES

I'll pledge myself to be thy servant here, Still at thy back alert and prompt to be; But when together yonder we appear, Then shalt thou do the same for me.

FAUST

But small concern I feel for yonder world; Hast thou this system into ruin hurl'd, Another may arise the void to fill. This earth the fountain whence my pleasures flow, This sun doth daily shine upon my woe, And if this world I must forego, Let happen then,--what can and will. I to this theme will close mine ears, If men hereafter hate and love,

FAUST

And if there be in yonder spheres A depth below or height above.

MEPHISTOPHELES

In this mood thou mayst venture it. But make The compact! I at once will undertake To charm thee with mine arts. I'll give thee more Than mortal eye hath e'er beheld before.

FAUST

What, sorry Devil, hast thou to bestow? Was ever mortal spirit, in its high endeavour, Fathom'd by Being such as thou? Yet food thou hast which satisfieth never, Hast ruddy gold, that still doth flow Like restless quicksilver away, A game thou hast, at which none win who play, A girl who would, with amorous eyen, E'en from my breast, a neighbour snare, Lofty ambition's joy divine, That, meteor-like, dissolves in air. Show me the fruit that, ere 'tis pluck'd, doth rot, And trees, whose verdure daily buds anew!

MEPHISTOPHELES

Such a commission scares me not, I can provide such treasures, it is true; But, my good friend, a season will come round, When on what's good we may regale in peace.

FAUST

If e'er upon my couch, stretched at my ease, I'm found, Then may my life that instant cease! Me canst thou cheat with glozing wile Till self-reproach away I cast,-- Me with joy's lure canst thou beguile Let that day be for me the last! Be this our wager!

MEPHISTOPHELES

Settled!

FAUST

Sure and fast! When to the moment I shall say, "Linger awhile! so fair thou art!" Then mayst thou fetter me straightway, Then to the abyss will I depart! Then may the solemn death-bell sound, Then from thy service thou art free, The index then may cease its round, And time be never more for me!

MEPHISTOPHELES

I shall remember: pause, ere 'tis too late.

FAUST

Thereto a perfect right hast thou. My strength I do not rashly overrate. Slave am I here, at any rate, If thine, or whose, it matters not, I trow.

MEPHISTOPHELES

At thine inaugural feast I will this day Attend, my duties to commence.-- But one thing!--Accidents may happen, hence A line or two in writing grant, I pray.

FAUST

A writing, Pedant! dost demand from me? Man, and man's plighted word, are these unknown to thee? Is't not enough, that by the word I gave, My doom for evermore is cast? Doth not the world in all its currents rave, And must a promise hold me fast? Yet fixed is this delusion in our heart; Who, of his own free will, therefrom would part? How blest within whose breast truth reigneth pure! No sacrifice will he repent when made! A formal deed, with seal and signature, A spectre this from which all shrink afraid. The word its life resigneth in the pen, Leather and wax usurp the mastery then. Spirits of evil! what dost thou require? Brass, marble, parchment, paper, dost desire? Shall I with chisel, pen, or graver write? Thy choice is free; to me 'tis all the same.

MEPHISTOPHELES

Wherefore thy passion so excite And thus thine eloquence inflame? A scrap is for our compact good. Thou under-signest merely with a drop of blood.

FAUST

If this will satisfy thy mind, Thy whim I'll gratify, howe'er absurd.

MEPHISTOPHELES

Blood is a juice of very special kind.

FAUST

Be not afraid that I shall break my word! The scope of all my energy Is in exact accordance with my vow. Vainly I have aspired too high; I'm on a level but with such as thou; Me the great spirit scorn'd, defied; Nature from me herself doth hide; Rent is the web of thought; my mind Doth knowledge loathe of every kind. In depths of sensual pleasure drown'd, Let us our fiery passions still! Enwrapp'd in magic's veil profound, Let wondrous charms our senses thrill! Plunge we in time's tempestuous flow, Stem we the rolling surge of chance! There may alternate weal and woe, Success and failure, as they can, Mingle and shift in changeful dance! Excitement is the sphere for man.

MEPHISTOPHELES

Nor goal, nor measure is prescrib'd to you, If you desire to taste of every thing, To snatch at joy while on the wing, May your career amuse and profit too! Only fall to and don't be over coy!

FAUST

Hearken! The end I aim at is not joy; I crave excitement, agonizing bliss, Enamour'd hatred, quickening vexation. Purg'd from the love of knowledge, my vocation, The scope of all my powers henceforth be this, To bare my breast to every pang,--to know In my heart's core all human weal and woe, To grasp in thought the lofty and the deep, Men's various fortunes on my breast to heap, And thus to theirs dilate my individual mind, And share at length with them the shipwreck of mankind.

MEPHISTOPHELES

Oh, credit me, who still as ages roll, Have chew'd this bitter fare from year to year, No mortal, from the cradle to the bier, Digests the ancient leaven! Know, this Whole Doth for the Deity alone subsist! He in eternal brightness doth exist, Us unto darkness he hath brought, and here Where day and night alternate, is your sphere.

FAUST

But 'tis my will

MEPHISTOPHELES

Well spoken, I admit! But one thing puzzles me, my friend; Time's short, art long; methinks 'twere fit That you to friendly counsel should attend. A poet choose as your ally! Let him thought's wide dominion sweep, Each good and noble quality, Upon your honoured brow to heap; The lion's magnanimity, The fleetness of the hind, The fiery blood of Italy, The Northern's stedfast mind. Let him to you the mystery show To blend high aims and cunning low; And while youth's passions are aflame To fall in love by rule and plan! I fain would meet with such a man; Would him Sir Microcosmus name.

FAUST

What then am I, if I aspire in vain The crown of our humanity to gain, Towards which my every sense doth strain?

MEPHISTOPHELES

Thou'rt after all--just what thou art. Put on thy head a wig with countless locks, And to a cubit's height upraise thy socks, Still thou remainest ever, what thou art.

FAUST

I feel it, I have heap'd upon my brain The gather'd treasure of man's thought in vain; And when at length from studious toil I rest, No power, new-born, springs up within my breast; A hair's breadth is not added to my height, I am no nearer to the infinite.

MEPHISTOPHELES

Good sir, these things you view indeed, Just as by other men they're view'd; We must more cleverly proceed, Before life's joys our grasp elude. The devil! thou hast hands and feet, And head and heart are also thine; What I enjoy with relish sweet, Is it on that account less mine? If for six stallions I can pay, Do I not own their strength and speed? A proper man I dash away, As their two dozen legs were mine indeed. Up then, from idle pondering free, And forth into the world with me! I tell you what;--your speculative churl Is like a beast which some ill spirit leads, On barren wilderness, in ceaseless whirl,

While all around lie fair and verdant meads.

FAUST

But how shall we begin?

MEPHISTOPHELES

We will go hence with speed, A place of torment this indeed! A precious life, thyself to bore, And some few youngsters evermore! Leave that to neighbour Paunch!--withdraw, Why wilt thou plague thyself with thrashing straw? The very best that thou dost know Thou dar'st not to the striplings show. One in the passage now doth wait!

FAUST

I'm in no mood to see him now,

MEPHISTOPHELES

Poor lad! He must be tired, I trow; He must not go disconsolate. Hand me thy cap and gown; the mask Is for my purpose quite first rate. (He changes his dress.) Now leave it to my wit! I ask But quarter of an hour; meanwhile equip, And make all ready for our pleasant trip! (Exit FAUST.)

MEPHISTOPHELES (in FAUST'S long gown)

Mortal! the loftiest attributes of men, Reason and Knowledge, only thus contemn, Still let the Prince of lies, without control, With shows, and mocking charms delude thy soul, I have thee unconditionally then! Fate hath endow'd him with an ardent mind, Which unrestrain'd still presses on for ever, And whose precipitate endeavour Earth's joys o'erleaping, leaveth them behind. Him will I drag through life's wild waste, Through scenes of vapid dulness, where at last Bewilder'd, he shall falter, and stick fast; And, still to mock his greedy haste, Viands and drink shall float his craving lips beyond-- Vainly he'll seek refreshment, anguish-tost, And were he not the devil's by his bond, Yet must his soul infallibly be lost!

A STUDENT enters

STUDENT

But recently I've quitted home, Full of devotion am I come A man to know and hear, whose name With reverence is known to fame.

MEPHISTOPHELES

Your courtesy much flatters me! A man like other men you see; Pray have you yet applied elsewhere?

STUDENT

I would entreat your friendly care! I've youthful blood and courage high; Of gold I bring a fair supply; To let me go my mother was not fain; But here I longed true knowledge to attain.

MEPHISTOPHELES

You've hit upon the very place.

STUDENT

And yet my steps I would retrace. These walls, this melancholy room, O'erpower me with a sense of gloom; The space is narrow, nothing green, No friendly tree is to be seen: And in these halls, with benches filled, distraught, Sight, hearing fail me, and the power of thought.

MEPHISTOPHELES

It all depends on habit. Thus at first The infant takes not kindly to the breast, But before long, its eager thirst Is fain to slake with hearty zest: Thus at the breasts of wisdom day by day With keener relish you'll your thirst allay.

STUDENT

Upon her neck I fain would hang with joy; To reach it, say, what means must I employ?

MEPHISTOPHELES

Explain, ere further time we lose, What special faculty you choose?

STUDENT

Profoundly learned I would grow, What heaven contains would comprehend, O'er earth's wide realm my gaze extend, Nature and science I desire to know.

MEPHISTOPHELES

You are upon the proper track, I find; Take heed, let nothing dissipate your mind.

STUDENT

My heart and soul are in the chase! Though to be sure I fain would seize, On pleasant summer holidays, A little liberty and careless ease.

MEPHISTOPHELES

Use well your time, so rapidly it flies; Method will teach you time to win; Hence, my young friend, I would advise, With college logic to begin! Then will your mind be so well braced, In Spanish boots so tightly laced, That on 'twill circumspectly creep, Thought's beaten track securely keep, Nor will it, ignis-fatuus like, Into the path of error strike. Then many a day they'll teach you how The mind's spontaneous acts, till now As eating and as drinking free, Require a process;--one! two! three! In truth the subtle web of thought Is like the weaver's fabric wrought: One treadle moves a thousand lines, Swift dart the shuttles to and fro, Unseen the threads together flow, A thousand knots one stroke combines. Then forward steps your sage to show, And prove to you, it must be so; The first being so, and so the second, The third and fourth deduc'd we see; And if there were no first and second, Nor third nor fourth would ever be. This, scholars of all countries prize,-- Yet 'mong themselves no weavers rise.-- He who would know and treat of aught alive, Seeks first the living spirit thence to drive: Then are the lifeless fragments in his hand, There only fails, alas the spirit-band. This process, chemists name, in learned thesis, Mocking themselves, Naturer encheiresis.

STUDENT

Your words I cannot fully comprehend.

MEPHISTOPHELES

In a short time you will improve, my friend, When of scholastic forms you learn the use; And how by method all things to reduce.

STUDENT

So doth all this my brain confound, As if a mill-wheel there were turning round.

MEPHISTOPHELES

And next, before aught else you learn, You must with zeal to metaphysics turn! There see that you profoundly comprehend, What doth the limit of man's brain transcend; For that which is or is not in the head A sounding phrase will serve you in good stead. But before all strive this half year From one fix'd order ne'er to swerve!

Five lectures daily you must hear; The hour still punctually observe! Yourself with studious zeal prepare, And closely in your manual look, Hereby may you be quite aware That all he utters standeth in the book; Yet write away without cessation, As at the Holy Ghost's dictation!

STUDENT

This, Sir, a second time you need not say! Your counsel I appreciate quite; What we possess in black and white, We can in peace and comfort bear away.

MEPHISTOPHELES

A faculty I pray you name.

STUDENT

For jurisprudence, Some distaste I own.

MEPHISTOPHELES

To me this branch of science is well known, And hence I cannot your repugnance blame. Customs and laws in every place, Like a disease, an heir-loom dread, Still trail their curse from race to race, And furtively abroad they spread. To nonsense, reason's self they turn; Beneficence becomes a pest; Woe unto thee, that thou'rt a grandson born! As for the law born with us, unexpressed;-- That law, alas, none careth to discern.

STUDENT

You deepen my dislike. The youth Whom you instruct, is blest in sooth! To try theology I feel inclined.

MEPHISTOPHELES

I would not lead you willingly astray, But as regards this science, you will find So hard it is to shun the erring way, And so much hidden poison lies therein, Which scarce can you discern from medicine. Here too it is the best, to listen but to one, And by the master's words to swear alone. To sum up all--To words hold fast! Then the safe gate securely pass'd, You'll reach the lane of certainty at last.

STUDENT

But then some meaning must the words convey.

MEPHISTOPHELES

Right! But o'er-anxious thought, you'll find of no avail, For there precisely where ideas fail, A word comes opportunely into play Most admirable weapons words are found, On words a system we securely ground, In words we can conveniently believe, Nor of a single jot can we a word bereave.

STUDENT

Your pardon for my importunity; Yet once more must I trouble you: On medicine, I'll thank you to supply A pregnant utterance or two! Three years! how brief the appointed tide! The field, heaven knows, is all too wide! If but a friendly hint be thrown, 'Tis easier then to feel one's way.

MEPHISTOPHELES (aside)

I'm weary of the dry pedantic tone, And must again the genuine devil play.

(Aloud) Of medicine the spirit's caught with ease, The great and little world you study through, That things may then their course pursue, As heaven may please. In vain abroad you range through science' ample space, Each man learns only that which learn he can; Who knows the moment to embrace, He is your proper man. In person you are tolerably made, Nor in assurance will you be deficient: Self-confidence acquire, be not afraid, Others will then esteem you a proficient. Learn chiefly with the sex to deal! Their thousands ahs and ohs, These the sage doctor knows, He only from one point can heal. Assume a decent tone of courteous ease, You have them then to humour as you please. First a diploma must belief infuse, That you in your profession take the lead: You then at once those easy freedoms use For which another many a year must plead; Learn how to feel with nice address The dainty wrist;--and how to press, With ardent furtive glance, the slender waist, To feel how tightly it is laced.

STUDENT

There is some sense in that! one sees the how and why.

MEPHISTOPHELES

Grey is, young friend, all theory: And green of life the golden tree.

STUDENT

I swear it seemeth like a dream to me. May I some future time repeat my visit, To hear on what your wisdom grounds your views?

MEPHISTOPHELES

Command my humble service when you choose.

STUDENT

Ere I retire, one boon I must solicit: Here is my album, do not, Sir, deny This token of your favour!

MEPHISTOPHELES

Willingly! (He writes and returns the book.)

STUDENT (reads)

ERITIS SICUT DEUS, SCIENTES BONUM ET MALUM (He reverently closes the book and retires.)

MEPHISTOPHELES

Let but this ancient proverb be your rule, My cousin follow still, the wily snake, And with your likeness to the gods, poor fool, Ere long be sure your poor sick heart will quake!

FAUST (enters) Whither away?

MEPHISTOPHELES

'Tis thine our course to steer. The little world, and then the great we'll view. With what delight, what profit too, Thou'lt revel through thy gay career!

FAUST Despite my length of beard I need The easy manners that insure success; Th' attempt I fear can ne'er succeed; To mingle in the world I want address; I still have an embarrass'd air, and then I feel myself so small with other men.

MEPHISTOPHELES Time, my good friend, will all that's needful give; Be only self-possessed, and thou hast learn'd to live.

FAUST

But how are we to start, I pray? Steeds, servants, carriage, where are they?

MEPHISTOPHELES

We've but to spread this mantle wide, 'Twill serve whereon through air to ride, No heavy baggage need you take, When we our bold excursion make, A little gas, which I will soon prepare, Lifts us from earth; aloft through air, Light laden, we shall swiftly steer;-- I wish you joy of your new life-career.

AUERBACH'S CELLAR IN LEIPZIG A Drinking Party

FROSCH

No drinking? Naught a laugh to raise? None of your gloomy looks, I pray! You, who so bright were wont to blaze, Are dull as wetted straw to-day.

BRANDER

'Tis all your fault; your part you do not bear, No beastliness, no folly.

FROSCH (pours a glass of wine over his head)

There, You have them both!

BRANDER

You double beast!

FROSCH

'Tis what you ask'd me for, at least!

SIEBEL

Whoever quarrels, turn him out! With open throat drink, roar, and shout. Hollo! Hollo! Ho!

ALTMAYER

Zounds, fellow, cease your deaf'ning cheers! Bring cotton-wool! He splits my ears.

SIEBEL

'Tis when the roof rings back the tone, Then first the full power of the bass is known.

FROSCH

Right! out with him who takes offence! A! tara lara da!

ALTMAYER

A! tara lara da!

FROSCH

Our throats are tuned. Come let's commence!

(Sings) The holy Roman empire now, How holds it still together?

BRANDER

An ugly song! a song political! A song offensive! Thank God, every morn To rule the Roman empire, that you were not born! I bless my stars at least that mine is not Either a kaiser's or a chancellor's lot. Yet 'mong ourselves should one still lord it o'er the rest; That we elect a pope I now suggest. Ye know, what quality ensures A man's success, his rise secures.

Faoscn (sings) Bear, lady nightingale above, Ten thousand greetings to my love.

SIESEL

No greetings to a sweetheart! No love-songs shall there be!

FROSCH

Love-greetings and love-kisses! Thou shalt not hinder me!

(Sings) Undo the bolt! in silly night, Undo the bolt! the lover wakes. Shut to the bolt! when morning breaks,

SIEBEL

Ay, sing, sing on, praise her with all, thy might!! My turn to laugh will come some day. Me hath she jilted once, you the same trick she'll play. Some gnome her lover be! where cross-roads meet, With her to play the fool; or old he-goat, From Blocksberg coming in swift gallop, bleat A good night to her, from his hairy throat! A proper lad of genuine flesh and blood, Is for the damsel far too good; The greeting she shall have from me, To smash her window-panes will be!

BRANDER (striking on the table)

Silence! Attend! to me give ear! Confess, sirs, I know how to live: Some love-sick folk are sitting here! Hence, 'tis but fit, their hearts to cheer, That I a good-night strain to them should give. Hark! of the newest fashion is my song! Strike boldly in the chorus, clear and strong!

(He sings) Once in a cellar lived a rat, He feasted there on butter, Until his paunch became as fat As that of Doctor Luther, The cook laid poison for the guest, Then was his heart with pangs oppress'd, As if his frame love wasted.

Chorus (shouting) As if his frame love wasted.

BRANDER

He ran around, he ran abroad, Of every puddle drinking. The house with rage he scratch'd and gnaw'd, In vain,--he fast was Sinking; Full many an anguish'd bound he gave, Nothing the hapless brute could save, As if his frame love wasted.

CHORUS

As if his frame love wasted.

BRANDER

By torture driven, in open day, The kitchen he invaded, Convulsed upon the hearth he lay, With anguish sorely jaded; The poisoner laugh'd, Ha! ha! quoth she, His life is ebbing fast, I see, As if his frame love wasted.

CHORUS

As if his frame love wasted.

SIEBEL

How the dull boors exulting shout! Poison for the poor rats to strew A fine exploit it is no doubt.

BRANDER

They, as it seems, stand well with you!

ALTMAYER

Old bald-pate! with the paunch profound! The rat's mishap hath tamed his nature; For he his counterpart bath found Depicted in the swollen creature.

FAUST AND MEPHISTOPHELES

MEPHISTOPHELES

I now must introduce to you Before aught else, this jovial crew, To show how lightly life may glide away; With the folk here each day's a holiday. With little wit and much content,

Each on his own small round intent, Like sportive kitten with its tail; While no sick-headache they bewail, And while their host will credit give, Joyous and free from care they live.

BRANDER

They're off a journey, that is clear,-- From their strange manners; they have scarce been here An hour.

FROSCH

You're right! Leipzig's the place for me 'Tis quite a little Paris; people there Acquire a certain easy finish'd air.

SIEBEL

What take you now these travellers to be?

FROSCH

Let me alone! O'er a full glass you'll see, As easily I'll worm their secret out, As draw an infant's tooth. I've not a doubt That my two gentlemen are nobly born, They look dissatisfied and full of scorn.

BRANDER

They are but mountebanks, I'll lay a bet!

ALTMAYER

Most like.

FROSCH

Mark me, I'll screw it from them yet!

MEPHISTOPHELES (to FAUST)

These fellows would not scent the devil out, E'en though he had them by the very throat!

FAUST

SIEBEL

Thanks for your fair salute. (Aside, glancing at MEPHISTOPHELES.) How! goes the fellow on a halting foot?

MEPHISTOPHELES

Is it permitted here with you to sit? Then though good wine is not forthcoming here, Good company at least our hearts will cheer.

ALTMAYER

A dainty gentleman, no doubt of it.

FROSCH

You're doubtless recently from Rippach? Pray, Did you with Master Hans there chance to sup?

MEPHISTOPHELES

To-day we pass'd him, but we did not stop! When last we met him he had much to say Touching his cousins, and to each he sent Full many a greeting and kind compliment. (With an inclination towards FROSCH.)

ALTMAYER (aside to FROSCH)

You have it there!

SIEBEL

Faith! he's a knowing one!

FROSCH

Have patience! I will show him up anon!

MEPHISTOPHELES

We heard erewhile, unless I'm wrong, Voices well trained in chorus pealing? Certes, most choicely here must song Re-echo from this vaulted ceiling!

FROSCH

That you're an amateur one plainly sees!

MEPHISTOPHELES

Oh no, though strong the love, I cannot boast much skill.

ALTMAYER

Give us a song!

MEPHISTOPHELES

As many as you will.

SIEBEL

But be it a brand new one, if you please!

MEPHISTOPHELES

But recently returned from Spain are we, The pleasant land of wine and minstrelsy.

(Sings) A king there was once reigning, Who had a goodly flea--

FROSCH

Hark! did you rightly catch the words? a flea! An odd sort of a guest he needs must be.

MEPHISTOPHELES (sings)

A king there was once reigning, Who had a goodly flea, Him loved he without feigning, As his own son were he! His tailor then he summon'd, The tailor to him goes: Now measure me the youngster For jerkin and for hose!

BRANDER

Take proper heed, the tailor strictly charge, The nicest measurement to take, And as he loves his head, to make The hose quite smooth and not too large!

MEPHISTOPHELES

In satin and in velvet, Behold the yonker dressed; Bedizen'd o'er with ribbons, A cross upon his breast. Prime minister they made him, He wore a star of state; And all his poor relations Were courtiers, rich and great.

The gentlemen and ladies At court were sore distressed; The queen and all her maidens Were bitten by the pest, And yet they dared not scratch them, Or chase the fleas away. If we are bit, we catch them, And crack without delay.

CHORUS (shouting)

If we are bit, &c.

FROSCH

Bravo! That's the song for me!

SIEBEL

Such be the fate of every flea!

BRANDER

With Clever finger catch and Kill!

ALTMAYER

Hurrah for wine and freedom still!

MEPHISTOPHELES

Were but your wine a trifle better, friend, A glass to freedom I would gladly drain.

SIEBEL

You'd better not repeat those words again t

MEPHISTOPHELES

I am afraid the landlord to offend; Else freely I would treat each worthy guest From our own cellar to the very best.

SIEBEL

Out with it then! Your doings I'll defend.

FROSCH

Give a good glass, and straight we'll praise you, one and all. Only let not your samples be too small; For if my judgment you desire, Certes, an ample mouthful I require.

ALTMAYER (aside)

I guess they're from the Rhenish land.

MEPHISTOPHELES

Fetch me a gimlet here!

BRANDER

Say, what therewith to bore? You cannot have the wine-casks at the door?

ALTMAYER

Our landlord's tool-basket behind doth yonder stand.

MEPHISTOPHELES (takes the gimlet)

(To FROSCH)

Now only say! what liquor will you take?

FROSCH

How mean you that? have you of every sort?

MEPHISTOPHELES

Each may his own selection make.

ALTMAYER (to FROSCH)

Ha! Ha! You lick your lips already at the thought.

FROSCH

Good, if I have my choice, the Rhenish I propose; For still the fairest gifts the fatherland bestows.

MEPHISTOPHELES

(boring a hole in the edge of the table opposite to where FROSCH is sitting)

Give me a little wax--and make some stoppers--quick!

ALTMAYER

Why, this is nothing but a juggler's trick!

MEPHISTOPHELES (to BRANDER)

And you?

BRANDER

Champagne's the wine for me; Right brisk, and sparkling let it be!

(MEPHISTOPHELES bores; one of the party has in the meantime prepared the wax-stoppers and stopped the holes.)

BRANDER

What foreign is one always can't decline, What's good is often scatter'd far apart. The French your genuine German hates with all his heart, Yet has a relish for their wine.

SIEBEL.

(as MEPHISTOPHELES approaches him)

I like not acid wine, I must allow, Give me a glass of genuine sweet!

MEPHISTOPHELES (bored)

Tokay Shall, if you wish it, flow without delay.

ALTMAYER

Come! look me in the face! no fooling now! You are but making fun of us, I trow.

MEPHISTOPHELES

Ah! ah! that would indeed be making free With such distinguished guests. Come, no delay; What liquor can I serve you with, I pray?

ALTMAYER

Only be quick, it matters not to me. (After the holes are bored and stopped.)

MEPHISTOPHELES (with strange gestures)

Grapes the vine-stock bears, Horns the buck-goat wears! Wine is sap, the vine is wood, The wooden board yields wine as good. With a deeper glance and true The mysteries of nature view! Have faith and here's a miracle! Your stoppers draw and drink your fill!

ALL.

(as they draw the stoppers and the wine chosen by each runs into his glass) Oh beauteous spring, which flows so far!

MEPHISTOPHELES Spill not a single drop, of this beware! (They drink repeatedly.)

ALL (sing)

Happy as cannibals are we, Or as five hundred swine.

MEPHISTOPHELES

They're in their glory, mark their elevation!

FAUST