Faust: A Tragedy

Scene IV.

Faust’s Study.

Faust. [entering with the Poodle.]

Now field and meadow lie behind me,

Hushed ’neath the veil of deepest night,

And thoughts of solemn seeming find me,

Too holy for the garish light.

Calm now the blood that wildly ran,

Asleep the hand of lawless strife;

Now wakes to life the love of man,

The love of God now wakes to life.

Cease, poodle!why snuff’st and snifflest thou so,

Running restless to and fro?

Behind the stove there lie at rest,

And take for bed my cushion the best!

And as without, on our mountain-ramble,

We joyed to see thy freakish gambol,

So here, my hospitable care,

A quiet guest, and welcome share.

When in our narrow cell confined,

The friendly lamp begins to burn,

Then clearer sees the thoughtful mind,

With searching looks that inward turn.

Bright Hope again within us beams,

And Reason’s voice again is strong,

We thirst for life’s untroubled streams,

For the pure fount of life we long.

Quiet thee, poodle!it seems not well

To break, with thy growling, the holy spell

Of my soul’s music, that refuses

All fellowship with bestial uses.

Full well we know that the human brood,

What they don’t understand condemn,

And murmur in their peevish mood

At things too fair and good for them;

Belike the cur, as curs are they,

Thus growls and snarls his bliss away.

But, alas!already I feel it well,

No more may peace within this bosom dwell.

Why must the stream so soon dry up,

And I lie panting for the cup

That mocks my lips?so often why

Drink pleasure’s shallow fount, when scarce yet tasted, dry?

Yet is this evil not without remeid;

We long for heavenly food to feed

Our heaven-born spirit, and the heart, now bent

On things divine, to revelation turns,

Which nowhere worthier or purer burns,

Than here in our New Testament.

I feel strange impulse in my soul

The sacred volume to unroll,

With honest purpose, once for all,

The holy Greek Original

Into my honest German to translate.

[He opens the Bible and reads.]

“In the beginning was the Word:” thus here

The text stands written; but no clear

Meaning shines here for me, and I must wait,

A beggar at dark mystery’s gate,

Lamed in the start of my career.

The naked word I dare not prize so high,

I must translate it differently,

If by the Spirit I am rightly taught.

“In the beginning of all things was Thought.”

The first line let me ponder well,

Lest my pen outstrip my sense;

Is it Thought wherein doth dwell

All-creative omnipotence?

I change the phrase, and write—the course

Of the great stream of things was shaped by Force

But even here, before I lift my pen,

A voice of warning bids me try again.

At length, at length, the Spirit helps my need,

I write—“In the beginning was the Deed.”

Wilt thou keep thy dainty berth,

Poodle, use a gentler mirth,

Cease thy whimpering and howling,

And keep for other place thy growling.

Such a noisy inmate may

Not my studious leisure cumber;

You or I, without delay,

Restless cur, must leave the chamber!

Not willingly from thee I take

The right of hospitality.

But if thou wilt my quiet break,

Seek other quarters—thou hast exit free.

But what must I see?

What vision strange

Beyond the powers

Of Nature’s range?

Am I awake, or bound with a spell?

How wondrously the brute doth swell!

Long and broad

Uprises he,

In a form that no form

Of a dog may be!

What spectre brought I into the house?

He stands already, with glaring eyes,

And teeth in grinning ranks that rise,

Large as a hippopotamus!

O!I have thee now!

For such half-brood of hell as thou

The key of Solomon the wise

Is surest spell to exorcise.[n3]

Spirits. [in the passage without]

Brother spirits, have a care!

One within is prisoned there!

Follow him none!—for he doth quail

Like a fox, trap-caught by the tail.

But let us watch!

Hover here, hover there,

Up and down amid the air;

For soon this sly old lynx of hell

Will tear him free, and all be well.

If we can by foul or fair,

We will free him from the snare,

And repay good service thus,

Done by him oft-times for us.

Faust.

First let the charm of the elements four

The nature of the brute explore.

Let the Salamander glow,

Undene twine her crested wave,

Silphe into ether flow,

And Kobold vex him, drudging slave![n4]

Whoso knows not

The elements four,

Their quality,

And hidden power,

In the magic art

Hath he no part.

Spiring in flames glow

Salamander!

Rushing in waves flow

Undene!

Shine forth in meteor-beauty

Silphe!

Work thy domestic duty

Incubus Incubus!

Step forth and finish the spell.

None of the four

In the brute doth dwell.

It lies quite still with elfish grinning there.

It shall know a stronger charm,

It shall shrink from sharper harm,

When by a mightier name I swear.

Art thou a fugitive

Urchin of hell?

So yield thee at length

To this holiest spell!

Bend thee this sacred

Emblem before,

Which the powers of darkness

Trembling adore.[n5]

Already swells he up with bristling hair.

Can’st thou read it,

The holy sign,

Reprobate spirit,

The emblem divine?

The unbegotten,

Whom none can name,

Moving and moulding

The wide world’s frame,

Yet nailed to the cross

With a death of shame.

Now behind the stove he lies,

And swells him up to an elephant’s size,

And fills up all the space.

He’ll melt into a cloud; not so!

Down, I say, down, proud imp, and know

Here, at thy master’s feet, thy place!

In vain, in vain, thou seek’st to turn thee,

With an holy flame I burn thee!

Wait not the charm

Of the triple-glowing light!

Beware the harm

If thou invite

Upon thy head my spell of strongest might!

[The clouds vanish, and Mephistopheles comes forward from behind the fireplace, dressed like an itinerant scholar.

Scene V.

Faust and Mephistopheles.

Mephistopheles.

What’s all the noise about?I’m here at leisure

To work your worship’s will and pleasure.

Faust.

So, so!such kernel cracked from such a shell!

A travelling scholar!the jest likes me well!

Mephistopheles.

I greet the learned gentleman!

I’ve got a proper sweating ’neath your ban.

Faust.

What is thy name?

Mephistopheles.

What is my power were better,

From one who so despises the mere letter,

Who piercing through the coarse material shell,

With Being’s inmost substance loves to dwell.

Faust.

Yes, but you gentlemen proclaim

Your nature mostly in your name;

Destroyer, God of Flies, the Adversary,[1]

Such names their own interpretation carry.

But say, who art thou?

Mephistopheles.

I am a part of that primordial Might,

Which always wills the wrong, and always works the right.

Faust.

You speak in riddles; the interpretation?

Mephistopheles.

I am the Spirit of Negation:

And justly so; for all that is created

Deserves to be annihilated.

’Twere better, thus, that there were no creation.

Thus everything that you call evil,

Destruction, ruin, death, the devil,

Is my pure element and sphere.

Faust.

Thou nam’st thyself a part, yet standest wholly here.

Mephistopheles.

I speak to thee the truth exact,

The plain, unvarnished, naked fact,

Though man, that microcosm of folly deems

Himself the compact whole he seems.

Part of the part I am that erst was all,

Part of the darkness, from whose primal pall

Was born the light, the proud rebellious Light,

Which now disputeth with its mother Night,

Her rank and room i’ the world by ancient right.

Yet vainly; though it strain and struggle much,

’Tis bound to body with the closer clutch;

From body it streams, on body paints a hue,

And body bends it from its course direct;

Thus in due season I expect,

When bodies perish, Light will perish too.

Faust.

Hold!now I know thy worthy duties all!

Unable to annihilate wholesale,

Thy mischief now thou workest by retail.

Mephistopheles.

And even thus, my progress is but small.

This something, the big lumpish world, which stands

Opposed to nothing, still ties my hands,

And spite of all the ground that I seem winning,

Remains as firm as in the beginning;

With storms and tempests, earthquakes and burnings,

Earth still enjoys its evenings and mornings,

And the accursèd fry of brute and human clay,

On them my noblest skill seems worse than thrown away.

How many thousands have I not buried!

Yet still a new fresh blood is hurried

Through fresh young veins, that I must sheer despair.

The earth, the water, and the air,

The moist, the dry, the hot, the cold,

A thousand germs of life unfold;

And had I not of flame made reservation,

I had no portion left in the creation.

Faust.

And thus thou seekest to oppose

The genial power, from which all life and motion flows,

Against Existence’ universal chain,

Clenching thy icy devil’s fist in vain!

Try some more profitable feats,

Strange son of Chaos, full of cross conceits.

Mephistopheles.

The hint is good, and on occasion,

May well deserve consideration;

Meanwhile, with your good leave, I would withdraw.

Faust.

My leave!do I make devil’s law?

The liberty, methinks, is all your own.

I see you here to-day with pleasure,

Go now, and come back at your leisure.

Here is the door, there is the window, and

A chimney, if you choose it, is at hand.

Mephistopheles.

Let me speak plain!there is a small affair,

That, without your assistance, bars my way,

The goblin-foot upon the threshold there—

Faust.

The pentagram stands in your way![n6]

Ha!tell me then, thou imp of sin,

If this be such a potent spell

To bar thy going out, how cam’st thou in?

What could have cheated such a son of hell?

Mephistopheles.

Look at it well, the drawing is not true;

One angle, that towards the door, you see,

Left a small opening for me.

Faust.

So so!for once dame Fortune has been kind,

And I have made a prisoner of you!

Chance is not always blind.

Mephistopheles.

The cur sprang in before it looked about;

But now the thing puts on a serious air;

The devil is in the house and can’t get out.

Faust.

You have the window, why not jump out there?

Mephistopheles.

It is a law which binds all ghosts and sprites;

Wherever they creep in, there too they must creep out;

I came in at the door, by the door I must go out.

Faust.

So so!then hell too has its laws and rights,

Thus might one profit by the powers of evil,

And make an honest bargain with the devil.

Mephistopheles.

The devil, sir, makes no undue exaction,

And pays what he has promised to a fraction;

But this affair requires consideration,

We’ll leave it for some future conversation.

For this time, I beseech your grace,

Let me be gone; I’ve work to do.

Faust.

Stay but one minute, I’ve scarce seen your face.

Speak; you should know the newest of the new.

Mephistopheles.

I’ll answer thee at length some other day;

At present, I beseech thee, let me loose.

Faust.

I laid no trap to snare thee in the way,

Thyself didst thrust thy head into the noose;

Whoso hath caught the devil, hold him fast!

Such lucky chance returns not soon again.

Mephistopheles.

If ’tis your pleasure so, I will remain,

But on condition that the time be passed

In worthy wise, and you consent to see

Some cunning sleights of spirit-craft from me.

Faust.

Thy fancy jumps with mine.Thou may’st commence,

So that thy dainty tricks but please the sense.

Mephistopheles.

Thou shalt, in this one hour, my friend,

More for thy noblest senses gain,

Than in the year’s dull formal train,

From stale beginning to stale end.

The songs the gentle Spirits sing thee,

The lovely visions that they bring thee,

Are not an empty juggling show.

On thine ear sweet sounds shall fall,

Odorous breezes round thee blow,

Taste, and touch, and senses all

With delicious tingling glow.

No lengthened prelude need we here,

Sing, Spirit-imps that hover near!

Spirits.

Vanish ye murky

Old arches away!

Through the cloud curtain

That blinds heaven’s ray

Mild and serenely

Look forth the queenly

Eye of the day!

Star now and starlet

Beam more benign,

And purer suns now

Softlier shine.

In beauty ethereal,

A swift-moving throng,

Of spirits aërial,

Are waving along,

And the soul follows

On wings of desire;

The fluttering garlands

That deck their attire,

Cover the meadows,

Cover the bowers,

Where lovers with lovers

Breathe rapturous hours.

Bower on bower!

The shoots of the vine,

With the leaves of the fig-tree,

Their tendrils entwine!

Clusters of ripe grapes,

Bright-blushing all,

Into the wine-press

Heavily fall;

From fountains divine

Bright rivers of wine

Come foaming and swirling;

O’er gems of the purest,

Sparkling and purling,

They flow and they broaden

In bright vista seen,

To deep-bosomed lakes

Lightly fringed with the green,

Where leafy woods nod

In their tremulous sheen.

On light-oaring pinions

The birds cut the gale,

Through the breezy dominions

As sunward they sail;

They sail on swift wings

To the isles of the blest,

On the soft swelling waves

That are cradled to rest;

Where we hear the glad spirits

In jubilee sing,

As o’er the green meadows

Fleet-bounding they spring:

With light airy footing,

A numberless throng,

Like meteors shooting

The mountains along;

Some there are flinging

Their breasts to the seas,

Others are swinging

In undulant ease,

Lovingly twining

Life’s tissue divine,

Where pure stars are shining

In beauty benign!

Mephistopheles.

He sleeps!well done, ye airy urchins!I

Remain your debtor for this lullaby,

By which so bravely ye have sung asleep

This restless spirit, who, with all his wit,

Is not yet quite the man with cunning cast,

To hook the devil and hold him fast.

Around him let your shapes fantastic flit,

And in a sea of dreams his senses steep.

But now this threshold’s charm to disenchant,

The tooth of a rat is all I want;

Nor need I make a lengthened conjuration,

I hear one scraping there in preparation.

The lord of the rats and of the mice,

Of the flies, and frogs, and bugs, and lice,

Commands you with your teeth’s good saw,

The threshold of this door to gnaw!

Forth come, and there begin to file,

Where he lets fall this drop of oil.

Ha!there he jumps!that angle there,

With thy sharp teeth I bid thee tear,

Which jutting forward, sad disaster,

Unwilling prisoner keeps thy master.

Briskly let the work go on,

One bite more and it is done![Exit.

Faust. [awakening from his trance]

Once more the juggler Pleasure cheats my lip,

Gone the bright spirit-dream, and left no trace,

That I spake with the devil face to face,

And that a poodle dog gave me the slip!

Scene VI.

Faust’s Study as before.

Faust.Mephistopheles.

Faust.

Who’s there to break my peace once more?come in!

Mephistopheles.

’Tis I!

Faust.

Come in!

Mephistopheles.

Thou must repeat it thrice.

Faust.

Come in.

Mephistopheles.

Thus with good omen we begin;

I come to give you good advice,

And hope we’ll understand each other.

The idle fancies to expel,

That in your brain make such a pother,

At your service behold me here,

Of noble blood, a cavalier,

A gallant youth rigged out with grace,

In scarlet coat with golden lace,

A short silk mantle, and a bonnet,

With a gay cock’s feather on it,

And at my side a long sharp sword.

Now listen to a well-meant word;

Do thou the like, and follow me,

All unembarrassed thus and free,

To mingle in the busy scenes

Of life, and know what living means.

Faust.

Still must I suffer, clothe me as you may,

This narrow earthly life’s incumbrancy;

Too old I am to be content with play,

Too young from every longing to be free.

What can the world hold forth for me to gain?

Abstain, it saith, and still it saith, Abstain!

This is the burden of the song

That in our ears eternal rings,

Life’s dreary litany lean and long,

That each dull moment hoarsely sings.

With terror wake I in the morn from sleep,

And bitter tears might often weep,

To see the day, when its dull course is run,

That brings to fruit not one small wish,—not one!

That, with capricious criticising,

Each taste of joy within my bosom rising,

Ere it be born, destroys, and in my breast

Chokes every thought that gives existence zest,

With thousand soulless trifles of an hour.

And when the dark night-shadows lower,

I seek to ease my aching brain

Upon a weary couch in vain.

With throngs of feverish dreams possessed,

Even in the home of sleep I find no rest;

The god, that in my bosom dwells,

Can stir my being’s inmost wells;

But he who sways supreme our finer stuff,

Moves not the outward world, hard, obdurate, and tough.

Thus my existence is a load of woes,

Death my best friend, and life my worst of foes.

Mephistopheles.

And yet methinks this friend you call your best,

Is seldom, when he comes, a welcome guest.

Faust.

Oh!happy he to whom, in victory’s glance,

Death round his brow the bloody laurel winds!

Whom, ’mid the circling hurry of the dance,

Locked in a maiden’s close embrace he finds;

O!would to God that I had sunk that night

In tranceful death before the Spirit’s might!

Mephistopheles.

Yet, on a certain night, a certain man was slow

To drink a certain brown potation out.

Faust.

It seems ’tis your delight to play the scout.

Mephistopheles.

Omniscient am I not; but many things I know.

Faust.

If, in that moment’s wild confusion,

A well-known tone of blithesome youth

Had power, by memory’s dear delusion,

To cheat me with the guise of truth;

Then curse I all whate’er the soul

With luring juggleries entwines,

And in this gloomy dungeon-hole

With dazzling flatteries confines!

Curst be ’fore all the high opinion

The soul has of its own dominion!

Curst all the show of shallow seeming,

Through gates of sense fallacious streaming!

Curst be the hollow dreams of fame,

Of honour, glory, and a name!

Curst be the flattering goods of earth,

Wife, child, and servant, house and hearth!

Accursed be Mammon, when with treasures

To riskful venture he invites us,

Curst when, the slaves of passive pleasures,

On soft-spread cushions he delights us!

Curst be the balsam juice o’ the grape!

Accursed be love’s deceitful thrall!

Accursed be Hope!accursed be Faith!

Accursed be Patience above all!

Chorus of Spirits. [invisible]

Woe!woe!

Thou hast destroyed it!

The beautiful world,

With mightiest hand,

A demigod

In ruin has hurled!

We weep,

And bear its wrecked beauty away,

Whence it may never

Return to the day.

Mightiest one

Of the sons of earth,

Brightest one,

Build it again!

Proudly resurgent with lovelier birth

In thine own bosom build it again!

Life’s glad career

Anew commence

With insight clear,

And purgèd sense,

The while new songs around thee play,

To launch thee on more hopeful way!

Mephistopheles.

These are the tiny

Spirits that wait on me;

Hark how to pleasure

And action they counsel thee!

Into the world wide

Would they allure thee,

In solitude dull

No more to immure thee,

No more to sit moping

In mouldy mood,

With a film on thy sense,

And a frost in thy blood!

Cease then with thine own peevish whim to play,

That like a vulture makes thy life its prey.

Society, however low,

Still gives thee cause to feel and know

Thyself a man, amid thy fellow-men.

Yet my intent is not to pen

Thee up with the common herd!and though

I cannot boast, or rank, or birth

Of mighty men, the lords of earth,

Yet do I offer, at thy side,

Thy steps through mazy life to guide;

And, wilt thou join in this adventure,

I bind myself by strong indenture,

Here, on the spot, with thee to go.

Call me companion, comrade brave,

Or, if it better please thee so,

I am thy servant, am thy slave!

Faust.

And in return, say, what the fee

Thy faithful service claims from me?

Mephistopheles.

Of that you may consider when you list.

Faust.

No, no!the devil is an Egotist,

And seldom gratis sells his labour,

For love of God, to serve his neighbour.

Speak boldly out, no private clause conceal;

With such as you ’tis dangerous to deal.

Mephistopheles.

I bind myself to be thy servant here,

And wait with sleepless eyes upon thy pleasure,

If, when we meet again in yonder sphere,

Thou wilt repay my service in like measure.

Faust.

What yonder is I little reck to know,

Provided I be happy here below;

The future world will soon enough arise,

When the present in ruin lies.

’Tis from this earth my stream of pleasure flows,

This sun it is that shines upon my woes;

And, were I once from this my home away,

Then happen freely what happen may.

Nor hope in me it moves, nor fear,

If then, as now, we hate and love;

Or if in yonder world, as here,

An under be, and an above.

Mephistopheles.

Well, in this humour, you bid fair

With hope of good result to dare.

Close with my plan, and you will see

Anon such pleasant tricks from me,

As never eyes of man did bliss

From father Adam’s time to this.

Faust.

Poor devil, what hast thou to give,

By which a human soul may live?

By thee or thine was never yet divined

The thought that stirs the deep heart of mankind!

True, thou hast food that sateth never,

And yellow gold that, restless ever,

Like quicksilver between the fingers,

Only to escape us, lingers;

A game where we are sure to lose our labour,

A maiden that, while hanging on my breast,

Flings looks of stolen dalliance on my neighbour;

And honour by which gods are blest,

That, like a meteor, vanishes in air.

Show me the fruit that rots before ’tis broken,

And trees that day by day their green repair!

Mephistopheles.

A word of mighty meaning thou hast spoken,

Yet such commission makes not me despair.

Believe me, friend, we only need to try it,

And we too may enjoy our morsel sweet in quiet.

Faust.

If ever on a couch of soft repose

My soul shall rock at ease,

If thou canst teach with sweet delusive shows

Myself myself to please,

If thou canst trick me with a toy

To say sincerely I enjoy,

Then may my latest sand be run!

A wager on it!

Mephistopheles.

Done!

Faust.

And done, and done!

When to the moment I shall say,

Stay, thou art so lovely, stay!

Then with thy fetters bind me round,

Then perish I with cheerful glee!

Then may the knell of death resound,

Then from thy service art thou free!

The clock may stand,

And the falling hand

Mark the time no more for me!

Mephistopheles.

Consider well: in things like these

The devil’s memory is not apt to slip.

Faust.

That I know well; may’st keep thy heart at ease,

No random word hath wandered o’er my lip.

Slave I remain, or here, or there,

Thine, or another’s, I little care.

Mephistopheles.

My duty I’ll commence without delay,

When with the graduates you dine to-day.

One thing remains!—black upon white

A line or two, to make the bargain tight.

Faust.

A writing, pedant!—hast thou never found

A man whose word was better than his bond?

Is’t not enough that by my spoken word,

Of all I am and shall be thou art lord?

The world drives on, wild wave engulphing wave,

And shall a line bind me, if I would be a knave?

Yet ’tis a whim deep-graven in the heart,

And from such fancies who would gladly part?

Happy within whose honest breast concealed

There lives a faith, nor time nor chance can shake;

Yet still a parchment, written, stamped, and sealed,

A spectre is before which all must quake.

Commit but once thy word to the goose-feather,

Then must thou yield the sway to wax and leather.

Say, devil—paper, parchment, stone, or brass?

With me this coin or that will pass;

Style, or chisel, or pen shall it be?

Thou hast thy choice of all the three.

Mephistopheles.

What need of such a hasty flare

Of words about so paltry an affair?

Paper or parchment, any scrap will do,

Then write in blood your signature thereto.

Faust.

If this be all, there needs but small delay,

Such trifles shall not stand long in my way.

Mephistopheles. [while Faust is signing the paper]

Blood is a juice of most peculiar virtue.

Faust.

Only no fear that I shall e’er demur to

The bond as signed; my whole heart swears

Even to the letter that the parchment bears.

Too high hath soared my blown ambition;

I now take rank with thy condition;

The Mighty Spirit of All hath scorned me,

And Nature from her secrets spurned me:

My thread of thought is rent in twain,

All science I loathe with its wranglings vain.

In the depths of sensual joy, let us tame

Our glowing passion’s restless flame!

In magic veil, from unseen hand,

Be wonders ever at our command!

Plunge we into the rush of Time!

Into Action’s rolling main!

Then let pleasure and pain,

Loss and gain,

Joy and sorrow, alternate chime!

Let bright suns shine, or dark clouds lower,

The man that works is master of the hour.

Mephistopheles.

To thee I set nor bound nor measure,

Every dainty thou may’st snatch,

Every flying joy may’st catch,

Drink deep, and drain each cup of pleasure;

Only have courage, friend, and be not shy!

Faust.

Content from thee thy proper wares to buy,

Thou markest well, I do not speak of joy,

Pleasure that smarts, giddy intoxication,

Enamoured hate, and stimulant vexation.

My bosom healed from hungry greed of science

With every human pang shall court alliance;

What all mankind of pain and of enjoyment

May taste, with them to taste be my employment;

Their deepest and their highest I will sound,

Want when they want, be filled when they abound,

My proper self unto their self extend,

And with them too be wrecked, and ruined in the end.

Mephistopheles.

Believe thou me, who speak from test severe,

Chewing the same hard food from year to year,

There lives (were but the naked truth confessed)

No man who, from his cradle to his bier,

The same sour leaven can digest!

Trust one of us—this universe so bright,

He made it only for his own delight;

Supreme He reigns, in endless glory shining,

To utter darkness me and mine consigning,

And grudges ev’n to you the day without the night.

Faust.

But I will!

Mephistopheles.

There you are right!

One thing alone gives me concern,

The time is short, and we have much to learn.

There is a way, if you would know it,

Just take into your pay a poet;

Then let the learned gentleman sweep

Through the wide realms of imagination

And every noble qualification,

Upon your honoured crown upheap,

The strength of the lion,

The wild deer’s agility,

The fire of the south,

With the north’s durability.

Then let his invention the secret unfold,

To be crafty and cunning, yet generous and bold;

And teach your youthful blood, as poets can,

To fall in love according to a plan.

Myself have a shrewd notion where we might

Enlist a cunning craftsman of this nature,

And Mr. Microcosmus he is hight.

Faust.

What am I then, if still I strive in vain

To reach the crown of manhood’s perfect stature,

The goal for which with all my life of life I strain?

Mephistopheles.

Thou art, do what thou wilt, just what thou art.

Heap wigs on wigs by millions on thy head,

And upon yard-high buskins tread,

Still thou remainest simply what thou art.

Faust.

I feel it well, in vain have I uphoarded

All treasures that the mind of man afforded,

And when I sit me down, I feel no more

A well of life within me than before;

Not ev’n one hairbreadth greater is my height,

Not one inch nearer to the infinite.

Mephistopheles.

My worthy friend, these things you view,

Just as they appear to you;

Some wiser method we must shape us,

Ere the joys of life escape us.

Why, what the devil!hands and feet,

Brain and brawn and blood are thine;

And what I drink, and what I eat,

Whose can it be, if ’tis not mine?

If I can number twice three horses,

Are not their muscles mine?and when I’m mounted,

I feel myself a man, and wheel my courses,

Just as if four-and-twenty legs I counted.

Quick then!have done with reverie,

And dash into the world with me!

I tell thee plain, a speculating fellow

Is like an ox on heath all brown and yellow,

Led in a circle by an evil spirit,

With roods of lush green pasture smiling near it.

Faust.

But how shall we commence?

Mephistopheles.

We start this minute:

Why, what a place of torture is here,

And what a life you live within it!

Yourself and your pack of younkers dear,

Killing outright with ennui!

Leave that to honest neighbour Paunch!

Thrashing of straw is not for thee:

Besides, into the best of all your knowledge,

You know ’tis not permitted you to launch

With chicken-hearted boys at College.

Ev’n now, methinks, I hear one on the stair.

Faust.

Send him away: I cannot bear—

Mephistopheles.

Poor boy!he’s waited long, nor must depart

Without some friendly word for head and heart;

Come, let me slip into your gown; the mask

Will suit me well; as for the teaching task,

[He puts on Faust’s scholastic robes.]

Leave that to me!I only ask

A quarter of an hour; and you make speed

And have all ready for our journey’s need.[Exit.

Mephistopheles. [solus]

Continue thus to hold at nought

Man’s highest power, his power of thought;

Thus let the Father of all lies

With shows of magic blind thine eyes,

And thou art mine, a certain prize.

To him hath Fate a spirit given,

With reinless impulse ever forwards driven,

Whose hasty striving overskips

The joys that flow for mortal lips;

Him drag I on through life’s wild chase,

Through flat unmeaning emptiness;

He shall cling and cleave to me,

Like a sprawling child in agony,

And food and drink, illusive hovering nigh,

Shall shun his parchèd lips, and cheat his longing eye;

He shall pine and pant and strain

For the thing he may not gain,

And, though he ne’er had sold him to do evil,

He would have damned himself without help from the devil.

Scene VII.

Enter a Student.

Student.

I am but fresh arrived to-day,

And come my best respects to pay,

To one whose name, from boor to Kaiser,

None, without veneration, mention.

Mephistopheles.

I feel obliged by your attention!

You see a man than other men no wiser:

Have you made inquiry elsewhere?

Student.

Beseech you, sir, be my adviser!

I come with money to spend and spare,

With fresh young blood, and a merry heart,

On my college career to start:

My mother sent me, not without a tear,

To get some needful schooling here.

Mephistopheles.

A better place you could not find.

Student.

To speak the truth, ’tis not much to my mind.

Within these narrow cloister walls,

These antiquated Gothic halls,

I feel myself but ill at ease;

No spot of green I see, no trees,

And ’mid your formal rows of benches,

I almost seem to lose my senses.

Mephistopheles.

That all depends on custom.Don’t you see

How a young babe at first is slow

To know its mother’s breast; but soon

With joy it strains the milky boon;

So you anon will suck nutrition

From Wisdom’s breasts with blest fruition.

Student.

I yearn to do so even now;

But, in the first place, tell me how?

Mephistopheles.

My help is yours, or great or small;

But choose your Faculty, first of all.

Student.

I aim at culture, learning, all

That men call science on the ball

Of earth, or in the starry tent

Of heaven; all Nature high and low,

Broad and deep, I seek to know.

Mephistopheles.

There you are on the proper scent;

Only beware of too much distraction.

Student.

With soul and body I’m girt for action,

And yet I cannot choose but praise

A little freedom and merriment,

On pleasant summer holidays.

Mephistopheles.

Redeem the time, for fast it fleets away,

But order rules the hour it cannot stay.

Therefore ’tis plain that you must pass

First of all through the logic class.

There will your mind be postured rightly,

Laced up in Spanish buskins tightly,

That with caution and care, as wisdom ought,

It may creep along the path of thought,

And not with fitful flickering glow

Will o’ the wisp it to and fro.

There, too, if you hear the gentleman through

The term, to every lecture true,

You’ll learn that a stroke of human thinking,

Which you had practised once as free

And natural as eating and drinking,

Cannot be made without one!two!three!

True, it should seem that the tissue of thought

Is like a web by cunning master wrought,

Where one stroke moves a thousand threads,

The shuttle shoots backwards and forwards between,

The slender threads flow together unseen,

And one with the others thousand-fold weds:

Then steps the philosopher forth to show

How of necessity it must be so:

If the first be so, the second is so,

And therefore the third and the fourth is so;

And unless the first and the second before be,

The third and the fourth can never more be.

So schoolmen teach and scholars believe,

But none of them yet ever learned to weave.

He who strives to know a thing well

Must first the spirit within expel,

Then can he count the parts in his hand,

Only without the spiritual band.

Encheiresis naturæ, ’tis clept in Chemistry,

Thus laughing at herself, albeit she knows not why.

Student.

I must confess I can’t quite comprehend you.

Mephistopheles.

In this respect time by and by will mend you,

When you have learned the crude mixed masses

To decompose, and rank them in their classes.

Student.

I feel as stupid to all he has said,

As a mill-wheel were whirling round in my head.

Mephistopheles.

After logic, first of all,

To the study of metaphysics fall!

There strive to know what ne’er was made

To go into a human head;

For what is within and without its command

A high-sounding word is always at hand.

But chiefly, for the first half year,

Let order in all your studies appear;

Five lectures a-day, that no time be lost,

And with the clock be at your post!

Come not, as some, without preparation,

But con his paragraphs o’er and o’er,

To be able to say, when you hear his oration,

That he gives you his book, and nothing more;

Yet not the less take down his words in writing,

As if the Holy Spirit were inditing!

Student.

I shall not quickly give you cause

To repeat so weighty a clause;

For what with black on white is written,

We carry it home, a sure possession.

Mephistopheles.

But, as I said, you must choose a profession.

Student.

With Law, I must confess, I never was much smitten.

Mephistopheles.

I should be loath to force your inclination,

Myself have some small skill in legislation;

For human laws and rights from sire to son,

Like an hereditary ill, flow on;

From generation dragged to generation,

And creeping slow from place to place.

Reason is changed to nonsense, good to evil,

Art thou a grandson, woe betide thy case!

Of Law they prate, most falsely clept the Civil,

But for that right, which from our birth we carry,

’Tis not a word found in their Dictionary.

Student.

Your words have much increased my detestation.

O happy he, to whom such guide points out the way!

And now, I almost feel an inclination

To give Theology the sway.

Mephistopheles.

I have no wish to lead you astray.

As to this science, ’tis so hard to eschew

The false way, and to hit upon the true,

And so much hidden poison lurks within,

That’s scarce distinguished from the medicine.

Methinks that here ’twere safest done

That you should listen but to one,

And jurare in verba magistri

Is the best maxim to assist thee.

Upon the whole, I counsel thee

To stick to words as much as may be,

For such will still the surest way be

Into the temple of certainty.

Student.

Yet in a word some sense must surely lurk.

Mephistopheles.

Yes, but one must not go too curiously to work;

For, just when our ideas fail us,

A well-coined word may best avail us.

Words are best weapons in disputing,

In system-building and uprooting,

To words most men will swear, though mean they ne’er so little,

From words one cannot filch a single tittle.

Student.

Pardon me, if I trespass on your time,

Though to make wisdom speak seems scarce a crime;

On medicine, too, I am concerned

To hear some pregnant word from one so learned.

Three years, God knows, is a short time,

And we have far to go, and high to climb;

A wise man’s fingers pointing to the goal

Will save full many a groan to many a labouring soul.

Mephistopheles. [aside]

I’m weary of this dry pedantic strain,

’Tis time to play the genuine devil again.

[Aloud.] The spirit of Medicine ’tis not hard to seize:

The world, both great and small, you seek to know,

That in the end you may let all things go

As God shall please.

In vain you range around with scientific eyes,

Each one at length learns only what he can;

But he who knows the passing hour to prize,

That is the proper man.

A goodly shape and mien you vaunt,

And confidence, I guess, is not your want,

Trust but yourself, and, without more ado,

All other men will straightway trust you too.

But chiefly be intent to get a hold

O’ the women’s minds: their endless Oh!and Ah!

So thousandfold,

In all its change, obeys a single law,

And, if with half a modest air you come,

You have them all beneath your thumb.

A title first must purchase their reliance,

That you have skill surpassing vulgar science;

Thus have you hold at once of all the seven ends,

Round which another year of labour spends.

Study to press the pulse right tenderly,

And, with a sly and fiery eye,

To hold her freely round the slender waist,

That you may see how tightly she is laced.

Student.

This seems to promise better; here we see

Where to apply and how to use the knife.

Mephistopheles.

Grey, my good friend, is every theory,

But green the golden tree of life.

Student.

I vow I feel as in a dream; my brain

Contains much more than it can comprehend;

Some other day may I come back again,

To hear your wisdom to the end?

Mephistopheles.

What I can teach all men are free to know.

Student.

One little favour grant me ere I go;

It were my boast to take home on this page

[Presenting a leaf from his album.]

Some sapient maxim from a man so sage.

Mephistopheles.

Right willingly.

[He writes, and gives back the book.

Student. [reads]

Eritis sicut Deus scientes bonum et malum.

[He closes the book reverently, and takes his leave.

Mephistopheles.

Follow the ancient saw, and my cousin, the famous old Serpent,

Right soon shalt thou have cause, at thy godlike knowledge to tremble!

Enter Faust.

Faust.

Now, whither bound?

Mephistopheles.

Where’er it pleases you;

The world, both great and small, we view.

O!how it will delight, entrance you,

The merry reel of life to dance through!

Faust.

My beard, I am afraid, is rather long;

And without easy manners, gentle breeding,

I fear there is small chance of my succeeding;

I feel so awkward ’mid the busy throng,

So powerless and so insignificant,

And what all others have I seem to want.

Mephistopheles.

Bah!never fear; the simple art of living

Is just to live right on without misgiving!

Faust.

But how shall we commence our course?

I see nor coach, nor groom, nor horse.

Mephistopheles.

We only need your mantle to unfold,

And it shall waft us on the wind.

Who makes with me this journey bold

No bulky bundle busks behind;

A single puff of inflammable air,

And from the ground we nimbly fare.

Lightly we float.I wish the best of cheer

To Doctor Faustus on his new career.

end of act second.

ACT III.

Scene I.

Auerbach’s Wine-Cellar.Leipzig.

A Bout of Merry Fellows.

Frosch.

Will no one sing?none crack a joke?

I’ll teach you to make saucy faces!

Like old wet straw to-day you smoke,

While bright as flame your wonted blaze is.

Brander.

The blame lies with yourself, for you have given us

To-day no fun nor frolic to enliven us.

Frosch. [throwing a glass of wine over his head]

There hast thou both!

Brander.

Double swine!

Frosch.

You asked a joke—I gave it you in wine!

Siebel.

Out at the door with all who dare to quarrel!

Give all your pipes full play!this is no place to snarl.

Up!hollo!ho!

Altmayer.

Woe’s me!the devil and his crew are here!

Some cotton, ho!he makes my ear-drum crack.

Siebel.

Roar on!for, when the vault loud echoes back,

The deep bass notes come thundering on the ear.

Frosch.

Right, right!out with each saucy fellow!

A!tara lara da!

Altmayer.

A tara lara da!

Frosch.

Our throats are now quite mellow.

[Sings.] The holy Roman empire now,

How does it hold together?

A clumsy song!—fie!a political song!

A scurvy song!thank God, with each to-morrow,

The Roman empire can give you small sorrow;

For me, I deem I’m wealthier and wiser

For being neither Chancellor nor Kaiser.

Yet even we must have a head to rule us;

Let’s choose a pope in drinking well to school us,

Come, well you know the qualification

That lifts a man to consideration.

Frosch. [sings]

Mount up, lady nightingale,

Greet my love ten thousand times!

Siebel.

No, sir, not once,—I’ll hear no more of this.

Frosch.

But you shall hear! —A greeting and a kiss!

[He sings.] Ope the door in silent night.

Ope and let me in, I pray;

Shut the door, the morn is bright,

Shut it, love, I must away!

Siebel.

Yes!sing and sing!belaud her, and berhyme!

I’ll have my laugh at that—all in good time!

She jilted me right rarely; soon

She’ll make thee sing to the same tune;

’Twere fit a Kobold with his love should bless her,

On some cross road to cocker and caress her;

Or that some old he-goat, that tramps away

From merry Blocksberg on the first of May,

Should greet her passing with a lusty baa!

An honest man of genuine flesh and blood

Is for the wench by far too good.

Batter her doors, her windows shiver,

That’s all the serenade I’d give her!

Brander. [striking the table]

Gentlemen, hear!only attend to me,

You’ll see that I know how to live.

If love-sick people here there be,

To honour them, I’m bound to give

A song brim-full of the most melting passion.

I’ll sing a ditty of the newest fashion!

Give ear!and with full swell sonorous,

Let each and all ring forth the chorus!

[He sings.] In a pantry-hole there lived a rat,

On bacon and on butter,

It had a paunch as round and fat

As Doctor Martin Luther.

The cook placed poison in its way,

It felt as straitened all the day,

As if it had love in its body.

Chorus. [shouting]

As if it had love in its body.

Brander.

It ran within, it ran without,

And sipped in every puddle;

And scratched and gnawed, but bettered not

The fever of its noddle.

With many a twinge it tossed and tossed,

Seemed ready to give up the ghost,

As if it had love in its body.

Chorus.

As if it had love in its body.

Brander.

It left its hole for very pain,

Into the kitchen crawling,

And snuffling there with might and main,

Upon the earth lay sprawling.

The cook she laughed when she saw it die;

“It squeaks,” quoth she, “with its latest sigh,

As if it had love in its body.”

Chorus.

As if it had love in its body.

Siebel.

How the hard-hearted boys rejoice!

As if it were a trade so choice

To teach the rats and mice to die!

Brander.

Rats find great favour in your eyes.

Altmayer.

The oily paunch!the bald pate!he

Has eyes of sorrow for the creature:

For why?he could not fail to see

In the swoll’n rat his own best feature!

Scene II.

Enter Faust and Mephistopheles.

Mephistopheles.

First thing of all I bring you here,

Into a company of jolly cheer,

That you may learn how men contrive

Without much thought or care to live.

These fellows feast their lives away

In a continual holiday;

With little wit and much content

Their narrow round of life is spent,

As playful kittens oft are found

To chase their own tails round and round.

So live they on from day to day,

As long as headache keeps away,

And by no anxious thought are crossed,

While they get credit from the host.

Brander.

These gentlemen are strangers; in their face

One reads they lack the breeding of the place;

They’re not an hour arrived, I warrant thee.

Frosch.

There you are right!—Leipzig’s the place, I say!

It is a little Paris in its way.

Siebel.

What, think you, may the strangers be?

Frosch.

Leave that to me!—I’ll soon fish out the truth.

Fill me a bumper till it overflows,

And then I’ll draw the worms out of their nose,

As easily as ’twere an infant’s tooth.

To me they seem to be of noble blood,

They look so discontented and so proud.

Brander.

Quack doctors both!—Altmayer, what think you?

Altmayer.

’Tis like.

Frosch.

Mark me!I’ll make them feel the screw.

Mephistopheles. [to Faust]

They have no nose to smell the devil out,

Even when he has them by the snout.

Faust.

Be greeted, gentlemen!

Siebel.

With much respect return we the salute.

[Softly, eyeing Mephistopheles from the one side.]

What!does the fellow limp upon one foot?

Mephistopheles.

With your permission, we will make so free,

As to intrude upon your company.

The host’s poor wines may keep us in sobriety,

But we at least enjoy your good society.

Altmayer.

Our wine is good; and, for to speak the truth,

Your mother fed you with too nice a tooth.

Frosch.

When left you Rippach?you must have been pressed

For time.Supped you with Squire Hans by the way?[n7]

Mephistopheles.

We had no time to stay!

But when I last came by, I was his guest.

He spoke much of his cousins, and he sent

To you and all full many a compliment.

[He makes a bow to Frosch

Altmayer. [softly]

You have him there!—he understands the jest!

Siebel.

He is a knowing one!

Frosch.

I’ll sift him through anon!

Mephistopheles.

As we came in, a concert struck my ear

Of skilful voices in a chorus pealing!

A gleesome song must sound most nobly here,

Re-echoed freely from the vaulted ceiling.

Frosch.

Perhaps you have yourself some skill?

Mephistopheles.

O no!had I the power, I should not want the will.

Altmayer.

Give us a song!

Mephistopheles.

A thousand, willingly!

Siebel.

Only brand-new, I say!—no thread-bare strain!

Mephistopheles.

We are but just come from a tour in Spain,

The lovely land of wine and melody.

[He sings.] There was a king in old times

That had a huge big flea—

Frosch.

Ha, ha!a flea!—he seems a man of taste!

A flea, I wis, is a most dainty guest?

Mephistopheles. [sings again]

There was a king in old times

That had a huge big flea,

As if it were his own son,

He loved it mightily.

He sent out for the tailor,

To get it a suit of clothes;

He made my lord a dress-coat,

He made him a pair of hose.

Brander.

Be sure that Monsieur le Tailleur be told

To take his measure most exact and nice,

And as upon his head he puts a price,

To make the hose without or crease or fold!

Mephistopheles.

In velvet and in silk clad

He strutted proudly then,

And showed his star and garter

With titled gentlemen.

Prime minister they made him,

With cross and ribbon gay,

And then all his relations

At court had much to say.

This caused no small vexation

At court; I tell you true—

The queen and all her ladies

Were bitten black and blue.

And yet they durst not catch them,

Nor crack them, when they might,

But we are free to catch them,

And crack them when they bite.

Chorus. [shouting]

But we are free to catch them

And crack them when they bite!

Frosch.

Bravo, bravo!—his voice is quite divine.

Siebel.

Such fate may every flea befall!

Brander.

Point your nails and crack ’em all!

Altmayer.

A glass to liberty!—long live the vine!

Mephistopheles.

I’d drink to liberty with right good will,

If we had only better wine to drink.

Siebel.

You might have kept that to yourself, I think!

Mephistopheles.

I only fear our host might take it ill,

Else should I give to every honoured guest

From our own cellar of the very best.

Siebel.

O never fear!—If you but find the wine,

Our host shall be content—the risk be mine!

Frosch.

Give me a flowing glass, and praise you shall not want,

So that your sample, mark me!be not scant;

I cannot judge of wine, unless I fill

My mouth and throat too with a goodly swill.

Altmayer. [softly]

I see the gentlemen are from the Rhine.

Mephistopheles.

Give me a gimlet here!—I’ll show you wine.

Brander.

What would the fellow bore?

Has he then wine-casks at the door?

Altmayer.

There, in the basket, you will find a store

Of tools, which our good landlord sometimes uses.

Mephistopheles. [Taking the gimlet.]

[To Frosch.]Now every man may taste of what he chooses.

Frosch.

How mean you that?Can you afford?

Mephistopheles.

No fear of that; my cellar is well stored.

Altmayer. [to Frosch]

Aha!I see you smack your lips already.

Frosch.

I’ll have Rhine wine; what fatherland produces

Is better far than French or Spanish juices.

Mephistopheles. [boring a hole in the edge of the table where Frosch is sitting]

Fetch me some wax, to make the stoppers ready.

Altmayer.

He means to put us off with jugglery.

Mephistopheles. [to Brander]

And you, sir, what?

Brander.

Champagne for me!

And brisk and foaming let it be!

[Mephistopheles bores; meanwhile one of the party has got the stoppers ready, and closes the holes.

Brander.

To foreign climes a man must sometimes roam,

In quest of things he cannot find at home;

For Frenchmen Germans have no strong affection,

But to their wines we seldom make objection.

Siebel. [while Mephistopheles is coming round to him]

I have no taste for your sour wines to-day,

I wish to have a swig of good Tokay.

Mephistopheles. [boring]

That you shall have, and of the very best.

Altmayer.

No, gentlemen!—’tis plain you mean to jest;

If so, in me you much mistake your man.

Mephistopheles.

Ha!ha!—no little risk, methinks, I ran,

To venture tricks with noble guests like you.

Come!make your choice, speak boldly out, and I

Will do my best your wish to gratify.

Altmayer.

Give me what wine you please!—only not much ado.

[After having bored and stopped up all the holes.

Mephistopheles. [with strange gestures]

Grapes on the vine grow!

Horns on the goat!

The wine is juicy, the vine is of wood,

The wooden table can give it as good.

Look into Nature’s depths with me!

Whoso hath faith shall wonders see!

Now draw the corks, and quaff the wine!

All. [drawing the corks, and quaffing the out-streaming liquor each as he had desired]

O blessed stream!—O fount divine!

Mephistopheles.

Drink on!only be cautious in your hurry.

[They drink freely.

All. [singing]

No king of cannibals to day

More bravely rules the drinking bout,

Than we, when, like five hundred swine,

We drain the brimming bumpers out!

Mephistopheles. [to Faust]

Look at the fellows now!—are they not merry?

Faust.

I feel inclined to go!—’tis getting late.

Mephistopheles.

Soon shall we have a glorious revelation

Of the pure beast in man, if you but wait.

Siebel. [drinks carelessly; the wine falls to the ground and becomes flame]

Help!fire!the devil’s here!death and damnation!

Mephistopheles. [Addressing himself to the flames]

Peace, friendly element!be still!

[To the company.] This time ’twas but a spurt of purgatorial flame.

Siebel.

What’s that?—you little know your men; we’ll tame

Your impudence, you juggling knave, we will!

Frosch.

’Twere dangerous to repeat such gambols here!

Altmayer.

Methinks ’twere best to whisper in his ear

That he had better leave the room.

Siebel.

What, sirrah?do you then presume

To play your hocus-pocus here?

Mephistopheles.

Peace, old wine-cask!

Siebel.

You broomstick, you!

Must we then bear your insolence too?

Brander.

Wait!wait!it shall rain blows anon!

Altmayer. [draws a stopper from the table, and fire rushes out on him]

I burn!I burn!

Siebel.

There’s witchcraft in his face!

The fellow’s an outlaw!strike him down!

[They draw their knives and attack Mephistopheles.

Mephistopheles. [with serious mien]

False be eye, and false be ear!

Change the sense, and change the place!

Now be there, and now be here!

[They look as thunderstruck, and stare at one another.

Altmayer.

Where am I?in what lovely land?

Frosch.

Vineyards!can it be so?

Siebel.

And grapes too quite at hand!

Brander.

And here beneath this shady tree,

This noble vine, these blushing clusters see!

[He seizes Siebel by the nose.The rest seize one another in the same manner, and lift up their knives.

Mephistopheles. [as above]

Let Error now their eyes unclose,

The devil’s joke to understand!

[He vanishes with Faust. The fellows start back from one another.

Siebel.

What’s the matter?

Altmayer.

How now?

Frosch.

Was that your nose?

Brander. [to Siebel]

And yours is in my hand!

Altmayer.

It was a stroke shot through my every limb!

Give me a chair!—I faint!My eyes grow dim!

Frosch.

Now tell me only what has been the matter?

Siebel.

Where is the fellow?Could I catch him here,

His life out of his body I should batter!

Altmayer.

I saw him just this instant disappear,

Riding upon a wine-cask—I declare

I feel a weight like lead about my feet.

[Turning to the table.]

I wonder if his d——d wine still be there!

Siebel.

There’s not a single drop; ’twas all a cheat.

Frosch.

And yet methinks that I was drinking wine.

Brander.

And I could swear I saw a clustered vine.

Altmayer.

Let none now say the age of miracles is past!

Scene III.

Witches’ Kitchen.

A cauldron is seen boiling on a low hearth.Numbers of strange fantastic figures tumbling up and down in the smoke.A Mother-Cat-Ape[n8] sits beside the cauldron, taking off the scum, and keeping it from boiling over.An Old Cat-Ape beside her warming himself with his young ones.Roof and walls are covered over with a strange assortment of furniture, and implements used by witches.

Enter Faust and Mephistopheles.

Faust.

I cannot brook this brainless bedlam stuff!

And must it be that I shall cast my slough

In this hotbed of all unreasoned doing?

Shall an old beldam give me what I lack?

And can her pots and pans, with all their brewing,

Shake off full thirty summers from my back?

Woe’s me, if thou canst boast no better scheme!

My brightest hopes are vanished as a dream.

Has Nature then, and has some noble Spirit,

No balsam for the body to repair it?

Mephistopheles.

My friend, with your great sense I cannot but be smitten!

Nature, too, boasts a plan to renovate your age;

But in a wondrous volume it is written,

And wondrous is the chapter and the page.

Faust.

But I must know it.

Mephistopheles.

Good!the poorest man may try it,

Without or witch, or quack, or gold to buy it;

And yet it works a certain cure.

Go take thee with the peasant to the moor,

And straight begin to hew and hack;

Confine thee there, with patient mood,

Within the narrow beaten track,

And nourish thee with simplest food;

Live with the brute a brute, and count it not too low

To dung the corn-fields thine own hands shall mow;

Than this I know on earth no med’cine stronger,

To make, by fourscore years, both soul and body younger!

Faust.

I was not trained to this—was never made

To labour with the pick-axe and the spade;

Such narrow round of life I may not brook.

Mephistopheles.

Then you must look into another book,

And be content to take the witch for cook.

Faust.

But why this self-same ugly Jezebel?

Could you not brew the drink yourself as well?

Mephistopheles.

A precious pastime that indeed!meanwhile

I had built bridges many a German mile.

Not art, and science strict, are here enough,

But patience too, and perseverance tough.

A thoughtful soul toils on through many a silent year.

Time only makes the busy ferment clear,

Besides that the ingredients all

Are passing strange and mystical!

’Tis true the devil taught them how to do it,

But not the devil with his own hands can brew it.

[Looking at the Cat-Apes.]Lo!what a tiny gay parade!

Here’s the man, and there’s the maid!

[Addressing them.] It seems that your good mother has gone out?

The Cat-Apes.

Up the chimney,

Went she out,

To a drinking bout!

Mephistopheles.

Is it her wont to gossip long without?

The Animals.

As long as we sit here and warm our feet.

Mephistopheles. [to Faust]

What think you of the brutes?are they not neat?

Faust.

I never saw such tasteless would-be-drolls!

Mephistopheles.

Pooh!pooh!—I know no greater delectation

On earth, than such a merry conversation.

[To the brutes.] Now let us hear, you pretty dolls,

What are you stirring there in the pot?

The Brutes.

Soup for beggars, hissing and hot,

Thin and watery, that’s the stew.

Mephistopheles.

Your customers will not be few.

The Father Cat-Ape. [comes up and fawns upon Mephistopheles]

Come rattle the dice,

Make me rich in a trice,

Come, come, let me gain!

My case is so bad,

It scarce could be worse:

Were I right in my purse,

I’d be right in my brain!

Mephistopheles.

How happy would the apish creature be,

To buy a ticket in the lottery!

[Meanwhile the young Cat-Apes have been playing with a large globe, and roll it forwards.

The Father Cat-Ape.

Such is the world,

So doth it go,

Up and down,

To and fro!

Like glass it tinkles,

Like glass it twinkles,

Breaks in a minute,

Has nothing within it;

Here it sparkles,

There it darkles,

I am alive!

My dear son, I say,

Keep out of the way!

If you don’t strive,

You will die, you will die!

It is but of clay,

And in pieces will fly!

Mephistopheles.

What make you with the sieve?

The Father Cat-Ape. [bringing down the sieve]

When comes a thief,

On the instant we know him.

[He runs off to the Mother Cat-Ape, and lets her look through the sieve.]

Look through the sieve!

See’st thou the thief,

And fearest to show him?

Mephistopheles. [coming near the fire]

And this pot?

Father Cat-Ape and his Wife.

The silly sot!

He knows not the pot!

And he knows not

The kettle, the sot!

Mephistopheles.

You ill-bred urchin, you!

The Father Cat-Ape.

Come, sit thee down,

We’ll give thee a crown,

And a sceptre too!

[He obliges Mephistopheles to sit down, and gives him a long brush for a sceptre.

Faust. [Who, while Mephistopheles was engaged with the animals, had been standing before a mirror, alternately approaching it and retiring from it.]

What see I here?what heavenly image bright,

Within this magic mirror, chains my sight?

O Love, the swiftest of thy pinions lend me,

That where she is in rapture I may bend me!

Alas!when I would move one step more near,

To breathe her balmy atmosphere,

She seems to melt and disappear,

And cheats my longing eye.

Oh she is fair beyond all type of human!

Is’t possible; can this be simple woman?

There lies she, on that downy couch reposing,

Within herself the heaven of heavens enclosing!

Can it then be that earth a thing so fair contains?

Mephistopheles.

Of course: for when a god has vexed his brains

For six long days, and, when his work is done,

Says bravo to himself, is it a wonder

He should make one fair thing without a blunder?

For this time give thine eyes their pleasure;

I know how to procure you such an one,

Whence thou mayst drink delight in brimming measure,

And blest the man, for whom Fate shall decide,

To lead home such a treasure as his bride!

[Faust continues gazing on the mirror. Mephistopheles stretches himself on the arm-chair, and, playing with the brush, goes on as follows.]

Here, from my throne, a monarch, I look down:

My sceptre this: I wait to get my crown.

The Animals. [Who had in the interval been wheeling about with strange antic gestures, bring a crown to Mephistopheles, with loud shouts.]

O be but so good,

With sweat and with blood,

Your crown to glue,

As monarchs do!

[They use the crown rather roughly, in consequence of which it falls into two pieces, with which they jump about.]

O sorrow and shame!

’Tis broken, no doubt:

But we’ll make a name,

When our poem comes out!

Faust. [gazing on the mirror]

Woe’s me!her beauty doth my wits confound.

Mephistopheles. [pointing to the Brutes]

And even my good brain is whirling round and round.

The Brutes.

And if we well speed,

As speed well we ought,

We are makers indeed,

We are moulders of thought.

Faust. [as above]

I burn, I burn!this rapturous glow

Consumes me sheer!—come, let us go!

Mephistopheles. [as above]

One must, at least, confess that they

Are honest poets in their way.

[The kettle, which had been neglected by the Mother Cat-Ape begins to boil over: A great flame arises, and runs up the chimney.The Witch comes through the flame, down the chimney, with a terrible noise.

The Witch.

Ow!ow!ow!ow!

Thou damnèd brute!thou cursèd sow!

To leave the kettle and singe the frow!

Thou cursed imp, thou!

[Turning to Faust and Mephistopheles.]

What’s this here now?

Who are you?who are you?

What’s here ado?

Ye are scouts!ye are scouts!

Out with the louts!

A fiery arrow

Consume your marrow!

[She plunges the ladle into the kettle, and spurts out flame on Faust, Mephistopheles, and the Brutes.These last whine.

Mephistopheles. [Who, in the meantime, had turned round the butt-end of the brush, now dashes in amongst the pots and glasses.]

In two!in two!

There lies the broth!

The glass and the kettle,

Shiver them both!

’Tis a jest, thou must know,

Thou carrion crow!

’Tis a tune to keep time,

To thy senseless rhyme.

[While the Witch, foaming with rage and fury, draws back.]

What!know’st me not?thou scrag!thou Jezebel!

Thy lord and master?thou should’st know me well.

What hinders me, in all my strength to come

And crush you and your cat-imps ’neath my thumb?

Know’st not the scarlet-doublet, mole-eyed mother?

Bow’st not the knee before the famed cock’s feather?

Use your old eyes; behind a mask

Did I conceal my honest face?

And when I come here must I ask

A special introduction to your Grace?

The Witch.

O my liege lord!forgive the rough salute!

I did not see the horse’s foot:

And where too have you left your pair of ravens?

Mephistopheles.

For this time you may thank the heavens

That you have made so cheap an escape;

’Tis some time since I saw your face,

And things since then have moved apace.

The march of modern cultivation,

That licks the whole world into shape,

Has reached the Devil.In this wise generation

The Northern phantom is no longer seen,

And horns and tail and claws have been.

And for my hoof, with which I can’t dispense,

In good society ’twould give great offence;

Therefore, like many a smart sprig of nobility,

I use false calves to trick out my gentility.

The Witch. [dancing]

Heyday!it almost turns my brain

To see Squire Satan here again!

Mephistopheles.

Woman, you must not call me by that name!

The Witch.

And wherefore not?I see no cause for shame.

Mephistopheles.

That name has had its station long assigned

With Mother Bunch; and yet I cannot see

Men are much better for the want of me.

The wicked one is gone, the wicked stay behind.

Call me now Baron, less than that were rude—

I am a cavalier like other cavaliers;

My line is noble, and my blood is good;

Here is a coat of arms that all the world reveres.

[He makes an indecent gesture.

The Witch. [laughing immoderately]

Ha!ha!now I perceive Old Nick is here!

You are a rogue still, as you always were.

Mephistopheles. [aside to Faust]

My friend, I give you here, your wit to whet,

A little lesson in witch-etiquette.

The Witch.

Now say, good sirs, what would you have with me?

Mephistopheles.

A glass of your restoring liquor,

That makes an old man’s blood run quicker:

And bring the best out from your bins;

With years the juice in virtue wins.

The Witch.

Most willingly.Here I have got a phial

Of which myself at times make trial:

’Tis now a pleasant mellow potion;

You shall not meet with a denial.

[Softly.] Yet if this worthy man drinks it without precaution,

His life can’t stand an hour against its strong infection.

Mephistopheles.

Leave that to me; he’s under my protection,

Ripe for the draught; no harm will come to him.

[The Witch, with strange gestures, draws a circle and places many curious things within it; meanwhile the glasses begin to tinkle, and the kettle to sound and make music.She brings a large book, puts the Cat-Apes into the circle, and makes them serve as a desk to lay the book on, and hold the torches.She motions to Faust to come near.

Faust. [to Mephistopheles]

Now say, what would she with this flummery?

These antic gestures, this wild bedlam-stuff,

This most insipid of all mummery,

I know it well, I hate it well enough.

Mephistopheles.

Pshaw, nonsense!come, give up your sermonising,

And learn to understand what a good joke is!

Like other quacks, she plays her hocus-pocus;

It gives the juice a virtue most surprising!

[He obliges Faust to enter the circle.

The Witch. [declaiming from the book with great emphasis]

Now be exact!

Of one make ten,

Then two subtract,

And add three then,

This makes thee rich.

Four shalt thou bate,

Of five and six,

So says the Witch,

Make seven and eight,

And all is done.

And nine is one,

And ten is none;

Here take and spell, if you are able,

The Witches’ multiplication table.

Faust.

This is a jargon worse than Babel;

Say, is she fevered?is she mad?

Mephistopheles.

O never fear!the rest is quite as bad;

I know the book, and oft have vexed my brains

With bootless labour on its rhymes and rules;

A downright contradiction still remains,

Mysterious alike for wise men and for fools.

My friend, the art is old and new;

Ancient and modern schools agree

With three and one, and one and three

Plain to perplex, and false inweave with true.

So they expound, discourse, dispute, debate;

What man of sense would plague him with their prate?

Men pin their faith to words, in sounds high sapience weening,

Though words were surely made to have a meaning.

The Witch. [Goes on reading from the book]

The soul to know

Beneath the show,

And view it without blinking;

The simple mind

The craft will find,

Without the toil of thinking.

Faust.

What flood of nonsense now she’s pouring o’er us?

She’ll split my skull with her insensate chatter.

I feel as if I heard the ceaseless clatter

Of thirty thousand idiots in a chorus.

Mephistopheles.

Enough, kind Sibyl; thanks for thy good will!

Now bring your jug here, and the goblet fill

With this prime juice, till it be brimming o’er.

My friend here is a man of high degrees,

And will digest the draught with ease.

He has swilled many a goodly glass before.

[The Witch, with many ceremonies, pours the beverage into a cup.While Faust brings it to his mouth a light flame arises.

Mephistopheles.

Come, quaff it boldly, without thinking!

The draught will make thy heart to burn with love.

Art with the Devil hand and glove,

And from a fire-spurt would’st be shrinking?

[The Witch looses the circle. Faust steps out.

Mephistopheles.

Come quickly out; you must not rest.

The Witch.

I hope the swig will wonders work on thee!

Mephistopheles.

And you, if you have aught to beg of me,

Upon Walpurgis’ night make your request.

The Witch.

Here is a song!at times sung, you will find

It hath a wondrous working on your mind.

Mephistopheles. [to Faust]

Come, yield thee now to my desire;

Be meek for once, and own the bridle.

You must keep quiet, and let yourself perspire,

That through your inmost frame the potent juice may pierce.

When we have time to spare, I will rehearse

Some lessons on the art of being nobly idle;

And soon thy heart with ecstasy shall know,

How Cupid ’gins to stir, and boundeth to and fro.

Faust. [Turning again towards the mirror]

Indulge me with one glance!—one moment spare!

It was a virgin-form surpassing fair!

Mephistopheles.

No!No!with my good aid thou soon shalt see

The paragon of women bodily.

[Aside.] Anon, if this good potion does its duty,

He’ll see in every wench the Trojan beauty.

Scene IV.

A Street.

Faust.Margaret passes over.

Faust.

My fair young lady, may I dare

To offer you my escort home?

Margaret.

Nor lady I, good sir, nor fair,

And need no guide to show me home.[Exit.

Faust.

By heaven, this child is passing fair!

A fairer never crossed my view;

Of such a modest gentle air,

Yet with a dash of pertness too,

And girlish innocent conceit;

Her lips so red, her cheeks so bright,

Forget I could not, if I might.

How she casts down her lovely eyes

Deep graven in my heart it lies,

And how so smartly she replied,

And with a sharp turn stepped aside,

It was most ravishingly sweet!

Enter Mephistopheles.

Faust.

Hark!you must get the girl for me!

Mephistopheles.

Which one?

Faust.

She’s just gone by.

Mephistopheles.

What!she?

She’s only now come from confession,

Where she received a full remission.

I slinked close by the box, and heard

The simple damsel’s every word;

’Tis a most guileless thing, that goes

For very nothing to the priest.

My power does not extend to those.

Faust.

Yet she is fourteen years of age at least.

Mephistopheles.

You speak like Jack the debauchee,

Who thinks each sweet flow’r grows for me;

As if his wish sufficed alone

To make each priceless pearl his own:

But ’tis not so; and cannot be.

Faust.

My good Sir Knight of pedantry,

Lay not thou down the law to me!

And this, for good and all, be told,

Unless, this very night, I hold

The sweet young maid in my embrace,

’Tis the last time that you shall see my face.

Mephistopheles.

Bethink thee!—what with here, and what with there,

The thing requires no little care.

Full fourteen days must first be spent,

To come upon the proper scent.

Faust.

Had I but seven good hours of rest,

The devil’s aid I’d ne’er request,

To mould this fair young creature to my bent.

Mephistopheles.

You speak as if you were a Frenchman born;

But though the end be good, we must not scorn

The means; what boots the mere gratification?

It is the best half of the recreation,

When, up and down, and to and fro,

The pretty doll, through every kind

Of fiddle-faddle sweet flirtation,

You knead out first, and dress up to your mind—

As many an Italian tale can show.

Faust.

I need no tricks to whet my zest.

Mephistopheles.

I tell thee plainly without jest,

As things stand here, we cannot win

The fort by hotly rushing in;

To gain fair lady’s favour, you

Must boldly scheme, and gently do.

Faust.

Fetch me something that breathed her air!

Her home, her chamber, plant me there!

A kerchief of her chaste attire!

A garter of my heart’s desire!

Mephistopheles.

That you may see how I would fain

Do all I can to ease your pain,

We shall not lose a single minute;

I know her room—thou shalt enjoy thee in it.

Faust.

And I shall see her?—have her?

Mephistopheles.

No!

She’ll be with a neighbour—better so.

Meanwhile, unhindered thou may’st go,

And on the hope of joys that wait thee,

Within her atmosphere may’st sate thee.

Faust.

Can we go now?

Mephistopheles.

No; we must wait till night.

Faust.

Go fetch a present for my heart’s delight.[Exit.

Mephistopheles.

Presents already!good!—a lover should not loiter!

I know some dainty spots of ground,

Where hidden treasures can be found;

I will go straight and reconnoitre.[Exit.

Scene V.

A small neat Chamber.

Margaret. [Plaiting and putting up her hair.]

I wonder who the gentleman could be,

That on the street accosted me to-day!

He looked a gallant cavalier and gay,

And must be of a noble family;

That I could read upon his brow—

Else had he never been so free.[Exit.

Enter Faust and Mephistopheles.

Mephistopheles.

Come in—but softly—we are landed now!

Faust. [after a pause]

Leave me alone a minute, I entreat!

Mephistopheles. [looking round about]

Not every maiden keeps her room so neat.[Exit.

Faust. [looking round]

Be greeted, thou sweet twilight-shine!

Through this chaste sanctuary shed!

Oh seize my heart, sweet pains of love divine,

That on the languid dew of hope are fed!

What sacred stillness holds the air!

What order, what contentment rare!

[He throws himself on the old leathern armchair beside the bed.]

Receive thou me!thou, who, in ages gone,

In joy and grief hast welcomed sire and son.

How often round this old paternal throne,

A clambering host of playful children hung!

Belike that here my loved one too hath clung

To her hoar grandsire’s neck, with childish joy

Thankful received the yearly Christmas toy,

And with the full red cheeks of childhood pressed

Upon his withered hand a pious kiss.

I feel, sweet maid, mine inmost soul possessed

By thy calm spirit of order and of bliss,

That motherly doth teach thee day by day:

That bids thee deck the table clean and neat,

And crisps the very sand strewn at thy feet.

Sweet hand!sweet, lovely hand!where thou dost sway,

The meanest hut is decked in heaven’s array.

And here![He lifts up the bed-curtain.]

O Heaven, what strange o’ermastering might

Thrills every sense with fine delight!

Here might I gaze unwearied day and night.

Nature!in airy dreams here didst thou build

The mortal hull of the angelic child;

Here she reposed!her tender bosom teeming

With warmest life, in buoyant fulness streaming,

And here, with pulse of gently gracious power,

The heaven-born bud was nursed into a flower!

And thou!what brought thee here?why now backshrinks

Thy courage from the prize it sought before?

What wouldst thou have?Thy heart within thee sinks;

Poor wretched Faust!thou know’st thyself no more.

Do I then breathe a magic atmosphere?

I sought immediate enjoyment here,

And into viewless dreams my passion flows!

Are we the sport of every breath that blows?

If now she came, and found me gazing here,

How for this boldfaced presence must I pay!

The mighty man, how small would he appear,

And at her feet, a suppliant, sink away!

Mephistopheles. [coming back]

Quick!quick!I see her—she’ll be here anon.

Faust.

Yes, let’s be gone!for once and all be gone!

Mephistopheles.

Here is a casket, of a goodly weight;

Its former lord, I ween, bewails its fate.

Come, put it in the press.I swear

She’ll lose her senses when she sees it there.

The trinkets that I stowed within it

Were bait meant for a nobler prey:

But child is child, and play is play!

Faust.

I know not—shall I?

Mephistopheles.

Can you doubt a minute?

Would you then keep the dainty pelf,

Like an old miser, to yourself?

If so, I would advise you, sir,

To spare your squire the bitter toil,

And with some choicer sport the hour beguile

Than looking lustfully at her.

I scratch my head and rub my hands that you—

[He puts the casket into the cupboard, and locks the door again.]

Come, let’s away!—

With this sweet piece of womanhood may do,

As will may sway;

And you stand there,

And gape and stare,

As if you looked into a lecture-room,

And there with awe

The twin grey spectres bodily saw,

Physics and Metaphysics!Come!

[Exeunt.

Enter Margaret, with a lamp.

Margaret.

It is so sultry here, so hot![She opens the window.]

And yet so warm without ’tis not.

I feel—I know not how—oppressed;

Would to God that my mother came!

A shivering cold runs o’er my frame—

I’m but a silly timid girl at best!

[While taking off her clothes, she sings.]

There was a king in Thule,

True-hearted to his grave:

To him his dying lady

A golden goblet gave.

He prized it more than rubies;

At every drinking-bout

His eyes they swam in glory,

When he would drain it out.

On his death-bed he counted

His cities one by one;

Unto his heirs he left them;

The bowl he gave to none.

He sat amid his barons,

And feasted merrily,

Within his father’s castle,

That beetles o’er the sea.

There stood the old carouser,

And drank his life’s last glow;

Then flung the goblet over

Into the sea below.

He saw it fall, and gurgling

Sink deep into the sea;

His eyes they sank in darkness;

No bumper more drank he.

[She opens the cupboard to put in her clothes, and sees the casket.]

How came the pretty casket here?no doubt

I locked the press when I went out.

’Tis really strange!—Belike that it was sent

A pledge for money that my mother lent.

Here hangs the key; sure there can be no sin

In only looking what may be within.

What have we here?good heavens!see!

What a display of finery!

Here is a dress in which a queen

Might on a gala-day be seen.

I wonder how the necklace would suit me!

Who may the lord of all this splendour be?

[She puts on the necklace, and looks at herself in the glass.]

Were but the ear-rings mine to wear!

It gives one such a different air.

What boots the beauty of the poor?

’Tis very beautiful to be sure,

But without riches little weighs;

They praise you, but half pity while they praise.

Gold is the pole,

To which all point: the whole

Big world hangs on gold.Alas we poor!

Scene VI.

A Walk.

Faust going up and down thoughtfully; then enter Mephistopheles.

Mephistopheles.

By all the keen pangs of love!by all the hot blasts of hell!

By all the fellest of curses, if curse there be any more fell!

Faust.

How now, Mephisto?what the devil’s wrong?

I ne’er beheld a face one half so long!

Mephistopheles.

But that I am a devil myself, I’d sell

Both soul and body on the spot to hell!

Faust.

I verily believe you’ve got a craze!

Beseems it you with such outrageous phrase,

To rage like any bedlamite?

Mephistopheles.

Only conceive!the box of rare gewgaws

For Margaret got, is in a parson’s claws!

The thing came to the mother’s sight,

Who soon suspected all was not right:

The woman has got a most delicate nose,

That snuffling through the prayer-book goes,

And seldom scents a thing in vain,

If it be holy or profane.

Your jewels, she was not long in guessing,

Were not like to bring a blessing.

“My child,” quoth she, “ill-gotten gear

Ensnares the soul, consumes the blood;

We’ll give it to Mary-mother dear,

And she will feed us with heavenly food!”

Margaret looked blank—“’tis hard,” thought she,

“To put a gift-horse away from me;

And surely godless was he never

Who lodged it here, a gracious giver.”

The mother then brought in the priest;

He quickly understood the jest,

And his eyes watered at the sight.

“Good dame,” quoth he, “you have done right!

He conquers all the world who wins

A victory o’er his darling sins.

The Church is a most sharp-set lady,

And her stomach holds good store,

Has swallowed lands on lands already,

And, still unglutted, craves for more;

The Church alone, my ladies dear,

Can digest ill-gotten gear.”

Faust.

That is a general fashion—Jew,

And King, and Kaiser have it too.

Mephistopheles.

Then ring and ear-ring, and necklace, and casket,

Like a bundle of toad-stools away he bore;

Thanked her no less, and thanked her no more,

Than had it been so many nuts in a basket;

On heavenly treasures then held an oration,

Much, of course, to their edification.

Faust.

And Margaret?

Mephistopheles.

Sits now in restless mood,

Knows neither what she would, nor what she should;

Broods o’er the trinkets night and day,

And on him who sent them, more.

Faust.

Sweet love!her grief doth vex me sore.

Mephisto, mark well what I say!

Get her another set straightway!

The first were not so very fine.

Mephistopheles.

O yes!with you all things are mere child’s play.

Faust.

Quick hence!and match your will with mine!

Throw thee oft in her neighbour’s way.

Be not a devil of milk and water,

And for another gift go cater.

Mephistopheles.

Yes, gracious sir!most humbly I obey.

[Exit Faust.

Mephistopheles.

Such love-sick fools as these would blow

Sun, moon, and stars, like vilest stuff,

To nothing with a single puff,

To make their lady-love a show!

Scene VII.

Martha’s House.

Martha. [alone]

In honest truth, it was not nobly done,

In my good spouse to leave me here alone!

May God forgive him!while he roams at large,

O’er the wide world, I live at my own charge.

Sure he could have no reason to complain!

So good a wife he’ll not find soon again.[She weeps.]

He may be dead!—Ah me!—could I but know,

By a certificate, that ’tis really so!

Enter Margaret.

Margaret.

Martha!

Martha.

What wouldst thou, dear?

Margaret.

My knees can scarcely bear me!—only hear!

I found a second box to-day

Of ebon-wood, just where the first one lay,

Brimful of jewels passing rare,

Much finer than the others.

Martha.

Have a care

You keep this well masqued from your mother—

’Twould fare no better than the other.

Margaret.

Only come near, and see!look here!

Martha. [decking her with the jewels]

Thou art a lucky little dear!

Margaret.

And yet I dare not thus be seen

In church, or on the public green.

Martha.

Just come across when you’ve an hour to spare,

And put the gauds on here with none to see!

Then promenade a while before the mirror there;

’Twill be a joy alike to thee and me.

Then on a Sunday, or a holiday,

Our riches by degrees we can display.

A necklace first, the drops then in your ear;

Your mother sees it not; and should she hear,

’Tis easy to invent some fair pretence or other.

Margaret.

But whence the pretty caskets came?I fear

There’s something in it not right altogether.[Knocking.]

Good God!—I hear a step—is it my mother?

Martha. [looking through the casement]

’Tis a strange gentleman.Come in!

Enter Mephistopheles.

Mephistopheles.

I hope the ladies will not think me rude,

That uninvited thus I here intrude.

[Observing Margaret, he draws back respectfully.]

I have commands for Mistress Martha Schwerdtlein.

Martha.

For me?what has the gentleman to say?

Mephistopheles. [softly to her]

Excuse my freedom.I perceive that you

Have visitors of rank to-day;

For this time I shall bid adieu,

And after dinner do myself the pleasure

To wait upon you, when you’re more at leisure.

Martha. [aloud]

Think, child!of all things in the world the last!

My Gretchen for a lady should have passed!

Margaret.

The gentleman is far too good;

I’m a poor girl—boast neither wealth nor blood.

This dress, these jewels, are not mine.

Mephistopheles.

’Tis not the dress alone that I admire;

She has a mien, a gait, a look so fine,

That speak the lady more than costliest attire.

Martha.

And now your business, sir?I much desire——

Mephistopheles.

Would God I had a better tale to tell!

Small thanks I should receive, I knew it well.

Your husband’s dead—his last fond words I bear.

Martha.

Is dead!the good fond soul!O woe!

My man is dead!flow, sorrow, flow!

Margaret.

Beseech thee, dearest Martha, don’t despair.

Mephistopheles.

Now hear my mournful story to the end.

Margaret.

I would not love a man on earth, to rend

Me thus with grief, when he might hap to die.

Mephistopheles.

Joy hath its sorrow, sorrow hath its joy;

Twin sisters are they, as the proverb saith.

Martha.

Now let me hear the manner of his death.

Mephistopheles.

Where Padua’s sacred turrets rise,

Above the grave of holy Antony,

On consecrated ground thy husband lies,

And slumbers for eternity.

Martha.

No further message?is this all?

Mephistopheles.

Yes!one request, and that not small.

For his soul’s peace, your good man wanted

Three hundred masses to be chanted.

This is the whole of my commission.

Martha.

What!not a jewel?not a coin?

No journeyman, however poor,

However wild, could make such an omission,

But in the bottom of his pouch is sure

To keep some small memorial for his wife,

And rather beg, and rather pine

Away the remnant of his life——

Mephistopheles.

Madam!for your hard case I greatly grieve,

But your good husband had no gold to leave.

His sins and follies he lamented sore—

Yes!and bewailed his own mishap much more.

Margaret.

Alas for all the miseries of mankind!

He shall not want my oft-repeated prayer.

Mephistopheles. [to Margaret]

Thou, gentle heart, dost well deserve to find

A husband worthy of a bride so fair.

Margaret.

Ah no!—for that, it is too soon.

Mephistopheles.

A lover, then, might in the mean time do.

’Tis bounteous Heaven’s choicest boon

To fondle in one’s arms so sweet a thing as you.

Margaret.

Such things are never done with us.

Mephistopheles.

Done or not done!—it may be managed thus:—

Martha.

Now let me hear!

Mephistopheles.

By his death-bed I stood.

It was a little better than of dung,

Of mouldy straw; there, as a Christian should,

With many a sin repented on his tongue,

He died.—“Oh!how must I,” he said,

“Myself detest so to throw up my trade,

And my dear wife abandon so!

It kills me with the simple memory, oh!

Might she but now forgive me, ere I die!”

Martha. [weeping]

Good soul!I have forgiven him long ago.

Mephistopheles. [continuing his interrupted narrative]

And yet was she, God knows, much more to blame than I.

Martha.

What!did he lie?on the grave’s brink to lie!

Mephistopheles.

He fabled to the last, be sure,

If I am half a connoisseur.

“In sooth, I had no time to gape,” he said,

“First to get children, then to get them bread,

To clothe them, and to put them to a trade,

From toil and labour I had no release,

And could not even eat my own thin slice in peace.”

Martha.

Can it then be?has he forgotten quite

My fag and drudgery, by day and night?

Mephistopheles.

Not quite!attend the sequel of my tale.

“When last we sailed from Malta”—so he said,

“For wife and children fervently I prayed,

And Heaven then blew a favourable gale.

We came across a Turkish ship that bore

Home bullion to increase the Sultan’s store,

And soon, by valour’s right, were masters

Of all the Infidel piastres;

The precious spoil was shared among the crew,

And I received the part that was my due.”

Martha.

But where and how?—has he then buried it?

Mephistopheles.

Who knows where the four winds have hurried it!

A lady took him under her protection

At Naples, as he wandered to and fro;

She left him many a mark of her affection,

As to his life’s end he had cause to know.

Martha.

The knave, to treat his helpless orphans so!

To all our misery and all our need,

Amid his reckless life, he gave no heed!

Mephistopheles.

And for that cause he’s dead.If I were you,

Now mark me well, I tell you what I’d do;

I’d mourn him decently for one chaste year,

Then look about me for another dear.

Martha.

Alas!God knows it would be hard to find

Another so completely to my mind.

A better-hearted fool you never knew,

A love of roving was his only vice;

And foreign wine, and foreign women too,

And the accursèd gambling dice.

Mephistopheles.

Such marriage-articles were most convenient,

Had he to you been only half so lenient.

On terms like these myself had no objection

To change with you the ring of conjugal affection.

Martha.

You jest, mein Herr!

Mephistopheles. [aside]

A serious jest for me!

I’d better go; for, if I tarry here,

She’ll take the devil at his word, I fear.

[To Margaret.]How stands it with your heart then?—is it free?

Margaret.

I scarce know what you mean.

Mephistopheles.

Sweet guileless heart!

Ladies, farewell!

Margaret.

Farewell!

Martha.

One word before we part!

I fain would have it solemnly averred,

How my dear husband died, and where he was interred.

Order was aye my special virtue; and

’Tis right both where and when he died should stand

In the newspapers.

Mephistopheles.

Yes, when two attest,

As Scripture saith, the truth is manifest.

I have a friend, who, at your requisition,

Before the judge will make a deposition.

I’ll bring him here.

Martha.

Yes, bring him with you, do!

Mephistopheles.

And we shall meet your fair young lady too?

[To Margaret.]A gallant youth!—has been abroad, and seen

The world—a perfect cavalier, I trow.

Margaret.

’Twould make me blush, should he bestow

A single look on one so mean.

Mephistopheles.

You have no cause to be ashamed before

The proudest king that ever sceptre bore.

Martha.

This evening, in the garden then, behind

The house, you’ll find warm hearts and welcome kind!