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A GLOOMY DAY. A PLAIN

FAUST and MEPHISTOPHELES

FAUST

In misery! despairing! long wandering pitifully on the face of the earth and now imprisoned! This gentle hapless creature, immured in the dungeon as a malefactor and reserved for horrid tortures! That it should come to this! To this!—Perfidious, worthless spirit, and this thou hast concealed from me!—Stand! ay, stand! roll in malicious rage thy fiendish eyes! Stand and brave me with thine insupportable presence! Imprisoned! In hopeless misery! Delivered over to the power of evil spirits and the judgment of unpitying humanity!—And me, the while, thou went lulling with tasteless dissipations, concealing from me her growing anguish, and leaving her to perish without help!

MEPHISTOPHELES

She is not the first.

FAUST

Hound! Execrable monster!—Back with him, oh thou infinite spirit! back with the reptile into his dog's shape, in which it was his wont to scamper before me at eventide, to roll before the feet of the harmless wanderer, and to fasten on his shoulders when he fell! Change him again into his favorite shape, that he may crouch on his belly before me in the dust, whilst I spurn him with my foot, the reprobate!—Not the first!—Woe! Woe! By no human soul is it conceivable, that more than one human creature has ever sunk into a depth of wretchedness like this, or that the first in her writhing death-agony should not have atoned in the sight of all-pardoning Heaven for the guilt of all the rest! The misery of this one pierces me to the very marrow, and harrows up my soul; thou art grinning calmly over the doom of thousands!

MEPHISTOPHELES

Now we are once again at our wit's end, just where the reason of you mortals snaps! Why dost thou seek our fellowship, if thou canst not go through with it? Wilt fly, and art not proof against dizziness? Did we force ourselves on thee, or thou on us?

FAUST

Cease thus to gnash thy ravenous fangs at me! I loathe thee!—Great and glorious spirit, thou who didst vouchsafe to reveal thyself unto me, thou who dost know my very heart and soul, why hast thou linked me with this base associate, who feeds on mischief and revels in destruction?

MEPHISTOPHELES

Hast done?

FAUST

Save her!—or woe to thee! The direst of curses on thee for thousands of years!

MEPHISTOPHELES

I cannot loose the bands of the avenger, nor withdraw his bolts.—Save her!—Who was it plunged her into perdition? I or thou?

FAUST (looks wildly around)

MEPHISTOPHELES

Would'st grasp the thunder? Well for you, poor mortals, that 'tis not yours to wield! To smite to atoms the being, however innocent, who obstructs his path, such is the tyrant's fashion of relieving himself in difficulties!

FAUST

Convey me thither! She shall be free!

MEPHISTOPHELES

And the danger to which thou dost expose thyself? Know, the guilt of blood, shed by thy hand, lies yet upon the town. Over the place where fell the murdered one, avenging spirits hover and watch for the returning murderer.

FAUST

This too from thee? The death and downfall of a world be on thee, monster! Conduct me thither, I say and set her free!

MEPHISTOPHELES

I will conduct thee. And what I can do,—hear! Have I all power in heaven and upon earth? I'll cloud the senses of the warder,—do thou possess thyself of the keys and lead her forth with human hand! I will keep watch! The magic steeds are waiting, I bear thee off. Thus much is in my power.

FAUST

Up and away!

NIGHT. OPEN COUNTRY

FAUST. MEPHISTOPHELES

(Rushing along on black horses)

FAUST

 
What weave they yonder round the Ravenstone?
 

MEPHISTOPHELES

 
I know not what they shape and brew.
 

FAUST

 
They're soaring, swooping, bending, stooping.
 

MEPHISTOPHELES

 
A witches' pack.
 

FAUST

 
They charm, they strew.
 

MEPHISTOPHELES

 
On! On!
 

DUNGEON

FAUST (with a bunch of keys and a lamp before a small iron door)

 
A fear unwonted o'er my spirit falls;
Man's concentrated woe o'erwhelms me here!
She dwells immur'd within these dripping walls;
Her only trespass a delusion dear!
Thou lingerest at the fatal door?
Thou dread'st to see her face once more?
On! While thou dalliest, draws her death-hour near.
 

[He seizes the lock. Singing within.]

 
 My mother, the harlot,
 She took me and slew!
 My father, the scoundrel,
 Hath eaten me too!
 My sweet little sister
 Hath all my bones laid,
 Where soft breezes whisper
 All in the cool shade!
 Then became I a wood-bird, and sang on the spray,
 Fly away! little bird, fly away! fly away!
 

FAUST (opening the lock)

Ah! she forebodes not that her lover's near, The clanking chains, the rustling straw, to hear. [He enters.]

MARGARET (hiding her face in the bed of straw)

 
Woe! woe! they come! oh bitter 'tis to die!
 

FAUST (Softly)

 
Hush! hush! be still! I come to set thee free.
 

MARGARET (throwing herself at his feet)

 
If thou art human, feel my misery!
 

FAUST

 
Thou wilt awake the jailer with thy cry!
 

[He grasps the chains to unlock them.]

MARGARET (on her knees)

 
Who, headsman, unto thee this power
O'er me could give?
Thou com'st for me at midnight-hour.
Be merciful, and let me live!
Is morrow's dawn not time enough?
 

[She stands up.]

 
I'm still so young, so young—
And must so early die!
Fair was I too, and that was my undoing.
My love is now afar, he then was nigh;
Tom lies the garland, the fair blossoms strew'd.
Nay, seize me not with hand so rude!
Spare me! What harm have I e'er done to thee?
Oh let me not in vain implore!
I ne'er have seen thee in my life before!
 

FAUST

 
Can I endure this bitter agony?
 

MARGARET

 
I now am at thy mercy quite.
Let me my babe but suckle once again!
I fondled it the live-long night;
They took it from me but to give me pain,
And now, they say that I my child have slain.
Gladness I ne'er again shall know.
Then they sing songs about me,—'tis wicked of the throng—
An ancient ballad endeth so;
Who bade them thus apply the song?
 

FAUST (throwing himself on the ground)

 
A lover at thy feet bends low,
To loose the bonds of wretchedness and woe.
 

MARGARET (throws herself beside him)

 
Oh, let us kneel and move the saints by prayer!
Look! look! yon stairs below,
Under the threshold there,
Hell's flames are all aglow!
Beneath the floor,
With hideous noise,
The devils roar!
 

FAUST (aloud)

 
Gretchen! Gretchen!
 

MARGARET (listening)

 
That was my lov'd one's voice!
 

[She springs up, the chains fall off.]

 
Where is he? I heard him calling me.
Free am I! There's none shall hinder me.
To his neck will I fly,
On his bosom will lie!
Gretchen, he called!—On yon threshold he stood;
Amidst all the howling of hell's fiery flood,
The scoff and the scorn of its devilish crew,
The tones of his voice, sweet and loving, I knew.
 

FAUST

 
'Tis I!
 

MARGARET

 
 'Tis thou! O say so once again!
 

[embracing him.]

 
'Tis he! 'Tis he! where's now the torturing pain?
Where are the fetters? where the dungeon's gloom?
'Tis thou! To save me thou art come!
And I am sav'd!—
Already now the street I see
Where the first time I caught a glimpse of thee.
There to the pleasant garden shade,
Where I and Martha for thy coming stay'd.
 

FAUST (endeavoring to lead her away)

 
Come! come away!
 

MARGARET

 
 Oh do not haste!
 

I love to linger where thou stayest. [caressing him.]

FAUST

 
Ah haste! For if thou still delayest,
Our lingering we shall both deplore.
 

MARGARET

 
How, dearest? canst thou kiss no more!
So short a time away from me, and yet,
To kiss thou couldst so soon forget!
Why on thy neck so anxious do I feel—
When formerly a perfect heaven of bliss
From thy dear looks and words would o'er me steal?
As thou wouldst stifle me thou then didst kiss!—
Kiss me!
Or I'll kiss thee! [She embraces him.]
Woe! woe! Thy lips are cold,—
Are dumb!
Thy love where hast thou left?
Who hath me of thy love bereft?
 

[She turns away from him.]

FAUST

 
Come! Follow me, my dearest love, be bold!
I'll cherish thee with ardor thousand-fold;
I but entreat thee now to follow me!
 

MARGARET (turning toward him)

 
And art thou he? and art thou really he?
 

FAUST

 
'Tis I! Oh come!
 

MARGARET

 
 Thou wilt strike off my chain,
And thou wilt take me to thine arms again.
How comes it that thou dost not shrink from me?—
And dost thou know, love, whom thou wouldst set free?
 

FAUST

 
Come! come! already night begins to wane.
 

MARGARET

 
I sent my mother to her grave,
I drown'd my child beneath the wave.
Was it not given to thee and me—thee too?
'Tis thou thyself! I scarce believe it yet.
Give me thy hand! It is no dream! 'Tis true!
Thine own dear hand!—But how is this? 'Tis wet!
Quick, wipe it off! Meseems that yet
There's blood thereon.
Ah God! what hast thou done?
Put up thy sword,
I beg of thee!
 

FAUST

 
Oh, dearest, let the past forgotten be!
Death is in every word.
 

MARGARET

 
No, thou must linger here in sorrow!
The graves I will describe to thee,
And thou to them must see
Tomorrow:
The best place give to my mother,
Close at her side my brother,
Me at some distance lay—
But not too far away!
And the little one place on my right breast.
Nobody else will near me lie!
To nestle beside thee so lovingly,
That was a rapture, gracious and sweet!
A rapture I never again shall prove;
Methinks I would force myself on thee, love,
And thou dost spurn me, and back retreat—
Yet 'tis thyself, thy fond kind looks I see.
 

FAUST

 
If thou dost feel 'tis I, then come with me!
 

MARGARET

 
What, there? without?
 

FAUST

 
Yes, forth in the free air.
 

MARGARET

 
Ay, if the grave's without,—If death lurk there!
Hence to the everlasting resting-place,
And not one step beyond!—Thou'rt leaving me?
Oh Henry! would that I could go with thee!
 

FAUST

 
Thou canst! But will it! Open stands the door.
 

MARGARET

 
I dare not go! I've naught to hope for more.
What boots it to escape? They lurk for me!
'Tis wretched to beg, as I must do,
And with an evil conscience thereto!
'Tis wretched, in foreign lands to stray;
And me they will catch, do what I may!
 

FAUST

 
With thee will I abide.
 

MARGARET

 
 Quick! Quick!
 Save thy poor child!
 Keep to the path
 The brook along,
 Over the bridge
 To the wood beyond,
 To the left, where the plank is,
 In the pond.
 Seize it at once!
 It fain would rise,
 It struggles still!
 Save it. Oh save!
 

FAUST

 
Dear Gretchen, more collected be!
One little step, and thou art free!
 

MARGARET

 
Were we but only past the hill
There sits my mother upon a stone—
My brain, alas, is cold with dread!—
There sits my mother upon a stone,
And to and fro she shakes her head;
She winks not, she nods not, her head it droops sore;
She slept so long, she waked no more;
She slept, that we might taste of bliss:
Ah I those were happy times, I wis!
 

FAUST

 
Since here avails nor argument nor prayer,
Thee hence by force I needs must bear.
 

MARGARET

 
Loose me! I will not suffer violence!
With murderous hand hold not so fast!
I have done all to please thee in the past!
 

FAUST

 
Day dawns! My love! My love!
 

MARGARET

 
 Yes! day draws near,
The day of judgment too will soon appear!
It should have been my bridal! No one tell,
That thy poor Gretchen thou hast known too well.
Woe to my garland!
Its bloom is o'er!
Though not at the dance—
We shall meet once more.
The crowd doth gather, in silence it rolls;
The squares, the streets,
Scarce hold the throng.
The staff is broken,—the death-bell tolls,—
They bind and seize me! I'm hurried along,
To the seat of blood already I'm bound!
Quivers each neck as the naked steel
Quivers on mine the blow to deal—
The silence of the grave now broods around!
 

FAUST

 
Would I had ne'er been born!
 

MEPHISTOPHELES (appears without)

 
Up! or you're lost.
Vain hesitation! Babbling, quaking!
My steeds are shivering,
Morn is breaking.
 

MARGARET

 
What from the floor ascendeth like a ghost?
'Tis he! 'Tis he! Him from my presence chase!
What would he in this holy place?
It is for me he cometh!
 

FAUST

 
Thou shalt live!
 

MARGARET

 
Judgment of God! To thee my soul I give!
 

MEPHISTOPHELES (to FAUST)

 
Come, come! With her I'll else abandon thee!
 

MARGARET

 
Father, I'm thine! Do thou deliver me!
Ye angels! Ye angelic hosts! descend,
Encamp around to guard me and defend!—
Henry! I shudder now to look on thee!
 

MEPHISTOPHELES

 
She now is judged!
 

VOICES (from above)

 
Is saved!
 

MEPHISTOPHELES (to FAUST)

 
Come thou with me!
 

[vanishes with FAUST.]

VOICE (from within, dying away)

 
Henry! Henry!
 

END OF PART I

FAUST—SELECTIONS FROM PART II (1832)

ACT THE FIRST

A PLEASING LANDSCAPE

FAUST, reclining upon flowery turf, restless, seeking sleep

TWILIGHT

Circle of spirits, hovering, flit around;—Graceful, tiny forms.

ARIEL

 
Song, accompanied by Æolian harps
 When, in vernal showers descending,
 Blossoms gently veil the earth,
 When the fields' green wealth, up-tending,
 Gleams on all of mortal birth;
 Tiny elves, where help availeth,
 Large of heart, there fly apace;
 Pity they whom grief assaileth,
 Be he holy, be he base.
 
 
Ye round this head on airy wing careering,
Attend, in noble Elfin guise appearing;
Assuage the cruel strife that rends his heart,
The burning shaft remove of keen remorse,
From rankling horror cleanse his inmost part:
Four are the pauses of the nightly course;
Them, without rest, fill up with kindly art.
And first his head upon cool pillow lay,
Then bathe ye him in dew from Lethe's stream;
His limbs, cramp-stiffen'd, will more freely play,
If sleep-refreshed he wait morn's wakening beam.
 
 
Perform the noblest Elfin-rite,
Restore ye him to the holy light!
 

CHORUS (singly, two or more, alternately and together)

 
 Softly when warm gales are stealing
 O'er the green-environed ground,
 Twilight sheddeth all-concealing
 Mists and balmy odors round:
 Whispers low sweet peace to mortals,
 Rocks the heart to childlike rest,
 And of day-light shuts the portals
 To these eyes, with care oppressed.
 Night hath now descended darkling,
 Holy star is linked to star;
 Sovereign fires, or faintly sparkling,
 Glitter near and shine afar;
 Glitter here lake-mirror'd, yonder
 Shine adown the clear night sky;
 Sealing bliss of perfect slumber,
 Reigns the moon's full majesty.
 
 
 Now the hours are cancelled; sorrow,
 Happiness, have passed away:
 Whole thou shalt be on the morrow!
 Feel it! Trust the new-born day!
 Swell the hills, green grow the valleys,
 In the dusk ere breaks the morn;
 And in silvery wavelets dallies,
 With the wind, the ripening corn.
 
 
 Cherish hope, let naught appall thee!
 Mark the East, with splendor dyed!
 Slight the fetters that enthrall thee;
 Fling the shell of sleep aside!
 Gird thee for the high endeavor;
 Shun the crowd's ignoble ease!
 Fails the noble spirit never,
 Wise to think, and prompt to seize.
 

[A tremendous tumult announces the uprising of the Sun.]

ARIEL

 
 Hark, the horal tempest nears,
 Sounding but for spirit ears,
 Lo! the new-born day appears;
 Clang the rocky portals, climb
 Phoebus' wheels with thund'rous chime:
 Breaks with tuneful noise the light!
 Blare of trumpet, clarion sounding,
 Eye-sight dazing, ear astounding!
 Hear not the unheard; take flight!
 Into petaled blossoms glide
 Deeper, deeper, still to bide,
 In the clefts, 'neath thickets! ye,
 If it strike you, deaf will be.
 

FAUST

 
 Life's pulses reawakened freshly bound,
 The mild ethereal twilight fain to greet.
 Thou, Earth, this night wast also constant found,
 And, newly-quickened, breathing at my feet,
 Beginnest now to gird me with delight;
 A strong resolve dost rouse, with noble heat
 Aye to press on to being's sovereign height.
 The world in glimmering dawn still folded lies;
 With thousand-voicèd life the woods resound;
 Mist-wreaths the valley shroud; yet from the skies
 Sinks heaven's clear radiance to the depths profound;
 And bough and branch from dewy chasms rise,
 Where they had drooped erewhile in slumber furled;
 Earth is enamelled with unnumber'd dyes,
 Leaflet and flower with dew-drops are impearled;
 Around me everywhere is paradise.
 
 
Gaze now aloft! Each mountain's giant height
The solemn hour announces, herald-wise;
They early may enjoy the eternal light,
To us below which later finds its way.
Now are the Alpine slopes and valleys dight
With the clear radiance of the new-born day,
Which, downward, step by step, steals on
apace.—It blazes forth,—and, blinded by the ray,
With aching eyes, alas! I veil my face.
So when a hope, the heart hath long held fast,
Trustful, still striving toward its highest goal,
Fulfilment's portals open finds at
last;—Sudden from those eternal depths doth roll
An over-powering flame;—we stand aghast!
The torch of life to kindle we were
fain;—A fire-sea,—what a fire!—doth round us close;
Love is it? Is it hate? with joy and pain,
In alternation vast, that round us glows?
So that to earth we turn our wistful gaze,
In childhood's veil to shroud us once again!
 
 
So let the sun behind me pour its rays!
The cataract, through rocky cleft that roars,
I view, with growing rapture and amaze.
From fall to fall, with eddying shock, it pours,
In thousand torrents to the depths below,
Aloft in air up-tossing showers of spray.
But see, in splendor bursting from the storm,
Arches itself the many-colored bow,
And ever-changeful, yet continuous form,
Now drawn distinctly, melting now away,
Diffusing dewy coolness all around!
Man's efforts there are glassed, his toil and strife;
Reflect, more true the emblem will be found:
This bright reflected glory pictures life!
 

IMPERIAL PALACE. THRONE-ROOM

Council of State, in expectation of the EMPEROR

TRUMPETS

Enter courtiers of every grade, splendidly attired. The Emperor ascends the throne; to the right the ASTROLOGER.

EMPEROR

 
 I greet you, trusty friends and dear,
 Assembled thus from far and wide!—
I see the wise man at my side,
 But wherefore is the fool not here?
 

PAGE

 
 Entangled in thy mantle's flow.
 He tripped upon the stair below;
 The mass of fat they bare away,
 If dead or drunken—who can say?
 

SECOND PAGE

 
 Forthwith another comes apace,
 With wondrous speed to take his place;
 Costly, yet so grotesque his gear,
 All start amazed as he draws near.
 Crosswise the guards before his face,
 Entrance to bar, their halberds hold—
 Yet there he is, the fool so bold.
 

MEPHISTOPHELES (kneeling before the throne)

 
 What is accursed and gladly hailed?
 What is desired and chased away?
 What is upbraided and assailed?
 What wins protection every day?
 Whom darest thou not summon here?
 Whose name doth plaudits still command?
 What to thy throne now draweth near?
 What from this place itself hath banned?
 

EMPEROR

 
 For this time thou thy words may'st spare!
 This is no place for riddles, friend;
 They are these gentlemen's affair,—
 Solve them! an ear I'll gladly lend.
 My old fool's gone, far, far away, I fear;
 Take thou his place, come, stand beside me here!
 

[MEPHISTOPHELES ascends and places himself at the EMPEROR'S left.]

Murmur of the Crowd

 
 Here's a new fool—for plague anew!
 Whence cometh he?—How passed he through?
 The old one fell—he squander'd hath.—
 He was a tub—now 'tis a lath.—
 

EMPEROR

 
So now, my friends, beloved and leal,
Be welcome all, from near and far!
Ye meet 'neath an auspicious star;
For us above are written joy and weal.
But tell me wherefore, on this day,
When we all care would cast away,
And don the masker's quaint array,
And naught desire but to enjoy,
Should we with state affairs ourselves annoy?
But if ye think it so must be indeed,
Why, well and good, let us forthwith proceed!
 

CHANCELLOR

 
The highest virtue circles halo-wise
Our Cæsar's brow; virtue, which from the throne,
He validly can exercise alone:
Justice!—What all men love and prize,
What all demand, desire, and sorely want,
It lies with him, this to the folk to grant.
But ah! what help can intellect command,
Goodness of heart, or willingness of hand,
When fever saps the state with deadly power,
And mischief breedeth mischief, hour by hour?
To him who downward from this height supreme
Views the wide realm, 'tis like a troubled dream,
Where the deformed deformity o'ersways,
Where lawlessness, through law, the tyrant plays,
And error's ample world itself displays.
 
 
One steals a woman, one a steer,
Lights from the altar, chalice, cross,
Boasts of his deed full many a year,
Unscathed in body, without harm or loss.
Now to the hall accusers throng;
On cushioned throne the judge presides;
Surging meanwhile in eddying tides,
Confusion waxes fierce and strong.
 
 
He may exalt in crime and shame,
Who on accomplices depends;
Guilty! the verdict they proclaim,
When Innocence her cause defends.
So will the world succumb to ill,
And what is worthy perish quite;
How then may grow the sense which still
Instructs us to discern the right?
E'en the right-minded man, in time,
To briber and to flatterer yields;
The judge, who cannot punish crime,
Joins with the culprit whom he shields.—
I've painted black, yet fain had been
A veil to draw before the scene.
 

Pause

 
Measures must needs be taken; when
All injure or are injured, then
E'en Majesty becomes a prey.
 

FIELD MARSHAL

 
In these wild days what tumults reign!
Each smitten is and smites again,
Deaf to command, will none obey.
The burgher, safe behind his wall,
Within his rocky nest, the knight,
Against us have conspired, and all
Firmly to hold their own unite.
Impatient is the hireling now,
With vehemence he claims his due;
And did we owe him naught, I trow,
Off he would run, nor bid adieu.
Who thwarts what fondly all expect,
He bath disturbed a hornet's nest;
The empire which they should protect,
It lieth plundered and oppress'd.
Their furious rage may none restrain;
Already half the world's undone;
Abroad there still are kings who reign—
None thinks 'tis his concern, not one.
 

TREASURER

 
Who will depend upon allies!
For us their promised subsidies
Like conduit-water, will not flow.
Say, Sire, through your dominions vast
To whom hath now possession passed!
Some upstart, wheresoe'er we go,
Keeps house, and independent reigns.
We must look on, he holds his own;
So many rights away we've thrown,
That for ourselves no right remains.
On so-called parties in the state
There's no reliance, now-a-days;
They may deal out or blame or praise,
Indifferent are love and hate.
The Ghibelline as well as Guelph
Retire, that they may live at ease!
Who helps his neighbor now? Himself
Each hath enough to do to please.
Barred are the golden gates; while each
Scrapes, snatches, gathers all within his reach—
Empty, meanwhile, our chest remains.
 

STEWARD

 
What worry must I, also, bear!
Our aim each day is still to spare—
And more each day we need; my pains,
Daily renewed, are never o'er.
The cooks lack nothing;—deer, wild-boar,
Stags, hares, fowls, turkeys, ducks and geese,—
Tribute in kind, sure payment, these
Come fairly in, and none complains.
But now at last wine fails; and if of yore
Up-piled upon the cellar-floor,
Cask rose on cask, a goodly store,
From the best slopes and vintage; now
The swilling of our lords, I trow,
Unceasing, drains the very lees.
E'en the Town-council must give out
Its liquor;—bowls and cups they seize;
And 'neath the table lies the drunken rout.
Now must I pay, whate'er betides;
Me the Jew spares not; he provides
Anticipation-bonds which feed
Each year on that which must succeed;
The swine are never fattened now;
Pawned is the pillow or the bed,
And to the table comes fore-eaten bread.
 

EMPEROR (after some reflection, to MEPHISTOPHELES)

 
Say, fool, another grievance knowest thou?
 

MEPHISTOPHELES

 
I, nowise. On this circling pomp to gaze,
On thee and thine! There can reliance fail
Where majesty resistless sways,
And ready power makes foemen quail?
Where loyal will, through reason strong,
And prowess, manifold, unite,
What could together join for wrong,
For darkness, where such stars give light?
 

Murmur of the Crowd

 
 He is a knave—he comprehends—
 He lies—while lying serves his ends—
Full well I know—what lurks behind—
What next?—Some scheme is in the wind!—
 

MEPHISTOPHELES

 
Where is not something wanting here on earth?
Here this,—there that: of gold is here the dearth.
It cannot from the floor be scrap'd, 'tis true;
But what lies deepest wisdom brings to view.
In mountain-veins, walls underground,
Is gold, both coined and uncoined, to be found.
And if ye ask me,—bring it forth who can?
Spirit-and nature-power of gifted man.
 

CHANCELLOR

 
Nature and spirit—christians ne'er should hear
Such words, with peril fraught and fear.
These words doom atheists to the fire.
Nature is sin, spirit is devil; they,
Between them, doubt beget, their progeny,
Hermaphrodite, mis-shapen, dire.
Not so with us! Within our Cæsar's land
Two orders have arisen, two alone,
Who worthily support his ancient throne:
Clergy and knights, who fearless stand,
Bulwarks 'gainst every storm, and they
Take church and state as their appropriate pay.
Through lawless men, the vulgar herd
To opposition have of late been stirred;
The heretics these are, the wizards, who
The city ruin and the country too.
With thy bold jests, to this high sphere,
Such miscreants wilt smuggle in;
Hearts reprobate to you are dear;
They to the fool are near of kin.
 

MEPHISTOPHELES

 
Herein your learned men I recognize!
What you touch not, miles distant from you lies;
What you grasp not, is naught in sooth to you;
What you count not, cannot, you deem, be true;
What you weigh not, that hath for you no weight;
What you coin not, you're sure is counterfeit.
 

EMPEROR

 
Therewith our needs are not one whit the less.
What meanest thou with this thy Lent-address?
I'm tired of this eternal If and How.
'Tis gold we lack; so good, procure it thou!
 

MEPHISTOPHELES

 
I'll furnish more, ay, more than all you ask.
Though light it seems, not easy is the task.
There lies the gold, but to procure it thence,
That is the art: who knoweth to commence?
Only consider, in those days of terror,
When human floods swamped land and folk together,
How every one, how great soe'er his fear,
All that he treasured most, hid there or here;
So was it 'neath the mighty Roman's sway,
So on till yesterday, ay, till today:
That all beneath the soil still buried lies—
The soil is Cæsar's, his shall be the prize.
 

TREASURER

 
Now for a fool he speaketh not amiss;
Our Cæsar's ancient right, in sooth, was this.
 

CHANCELLOR

 
Satan for you spreads golden snares; 'tis clear,
Something not right or pious worketh here.
 

STEWARD

 
To us at court if welcome gifts he bring,
A little wrong is no such serious thing.
 

FIELD MARSHAL

 
Shrewd is the fool, he bids what all desire;
The soldier, whence it comes, will not inquire.
 

MEPHISTOPHELES

 
You think yourselves, perchance, deceived by me;
Ask the Astrologer! This man is he!
Circle round circle, hour and house, he knows.—
Then tell us, how the heavenly aspect shows.
 

Murmur of the Crowd

 
 Two rascals—each to other known—
 Phantast and fool—so near the throne—
 The old, old song,—now trite with age—
 The fool still prompts—while speaks the sage.—
 

ASTROLOGER (speaks, MEPHISTOPHELES prompts)

 
The sun himself is purest gold; for pay
And favor serves the herald, Mercury;
Dame Venus hath bewitched you from above,
Early and late, she looks on you with love;
Chaste Luna's humor varies hour by hour;
Mars, though he strike not, threats you with his power,
And Jupiter is still the fairest star;
Saturn is great, small to the eye and far;
As metal him we slightly venerate,
Little in worth, though ponderous in weight.
Now when with Sol fair Luna doth unite.
Silver with gold, cheerful the world and bright!
Then easy 'tis to gain whate'er one seeks;
Parks, gardens, palaces, and rosy cheeks;
These things procures this highly learned man.
He can accomplish what none other can.
 

EMPEROR

 
Double, methinks, his accents ring,
And yet they no conviction bring.
 

Murmur

 
 Of what avail!—a worn-out tale—
Calendery—and chemistry—
I the false word—full oft have heard—
And as of yore—we're hoax'd once more.
 

MEPHISTOPHELES

 
The grand discovery they misprize,
As, in amaze, they stand around;
One prates of gnomes and sorceries,
Another of the sable hound.
What matters it, though witlings rail,
Though one his suit 'gainst witchcraft press,
If his sole tingle none the less,
If his sure footing also fail?
Ye of all swaying Nature feel
The secret working, never-ending,
And, from her lowest depths up-tending,
E'en now her living trace doth steal.
If sudden cramps your limbs surprise,
If all uncanny seem the spot—
There dig and delve, but dally not!
There lies the fiddler, there the treasure lies!
 

Murmur

 
  Like lead it lies my foot about—
 Cramp'd is my arm—'tis only gout—
 Twitchings I have in my great toe—
 Down all my back strange pains I know—
 Such indications make it clear
 That sumless treasuries are here.
 

EMPEROR

 
To work—the time for flight is past.—
Put to the test your frothy lies!
These treasures bring before our eyes!
Sceptre and sword aside I'll cast,
And with these royal hands, indeed,
If thou lie not, to work proceed.
Thee, if thou lie, I'll send to hell!
 

MEPHISTOPHELES

 
Thither to find the way I know full well!—
Yet can I not enough declare,
What wealth unown'd lies waiting everywhere:
The countryman, who ploughs the land,
Gold-crocks upturneth with the mould;
Nitre he seeks in lime-walls old,
And findeth, in his meagre hand,
Scared, yet rejoiced, rouleaus of gold.
How many a vault upblown must be,
Into what clefts, what shafts, must he
Who doth of hidden treasure know,
Descend, to reach the world below!
In cellars vast, impervious made,
Goblets of gold he sees displayed,
Dishes and plates, row after row;
There beakers, rich with rubies, stand;
And would he use them, close at hand
Well stored the ancient moisture lies;
Yet—would ye him who knoweth, trust?—
The staves long since have turned to dust,
A tartar cask their place supplies!
Not gold alone and jewels rare,
Essence of noblest wines are there,
In night and horror veiled. The wise,
Unwearied here pursues his quest.
To search by day, that were a jest;
'Tis darkness that doth harbor mysteries.
 

EMPEROR

 
What can the dark avail? Look thou to that!
If aught have worth, it cometh to the light.
Who can detect the rogue at dead of night?
Black are the cows, and gray is every cat.
These pots of heavy gold, if they be there—
Come, drive thy plough, upturn them with thy share!
 

MEPHISTOPHELES

 
Take spade and hoe thyself;—dig on—
Great shalt thou be through peasant toil—
A herd of golden calves anon
Themselves shall tear from out the soil;
Then straight, with rapture newly born,
Thyself thou canst, thy sweet-heart wilt adorn.
A sparkling gem, lustrous, of varied dye,
Beauty exalts as well as majesty.
 

EMPEROR

 
To work, to work! How long wilt linger?
 

MEPHISTOPHELES

 
                              Sire,
Relax, I pray, such vehement desire!
First let us see the motley, joyous show!
A mind distraught conducts not to the goal.
First must we calmness win through self-control,
Through things above deserve what lies below.
Who seeks for goodness, must himself be good;
Who seeks for joy, must moderate his blood;
Who wine desires, the luscious grape must press;
Who craveth miracles, more faith possess.
 

EMPEROR

 
So be the interval in gladness spent!
Ash-Wednesday cometh, to our heart's content.
Meanwhile we'll solemnize, whate'er befall,
More merrily the joyous Carnival.
 

[Trumpets. Exeunt.]

MEPHISTOPHELES