The Online Library of Liberty

A project of Liberty Fund, Inc.

• Faust a Tragedy
• Faust First Part
• Dramatis PersonÆ.
• Dedication.
• Prologue For the Theatre.
• Prologue In Heaven.
• Walpurgis-night.
• Walpurgis-night’s Dream; Or, Oberon and Titania’s Golden Wedding Feast. Intermezzo.
• Faust. Second Part
• Dramatis PersonÆ.
• Act I.
• Act II.
• Act III.
• Act IV.
• Act V.
• Egmont
• Dramatis PersonÆ.
• Act I.
• Scene I.—: Soldiers and Citizens, With Cross-bows.
• Scene II.—: Palace of the Regent.
• Scene III.—: Citizen’s House.
• Act II.
• Scene I.—: Square In Brussels.
• Scene II.—: Egmont’s Residence.
• Act III.
• Scene I.—: Palace of the Regent.
• Scene II.—: Clara’s Dwelling.
• Act IV.
• Scene I.—: A Street.
• Scene II.—: The Palace of Eulenberg, Residence of the Duke of Alva.
• Act V.
• Scene I.—: A Street. Twilight.
• Scene II.: A Prison.
• Scene III.—: Clara’s House.
• Scene IV.—: A Prison.
• The Natural Daughter a Tragedy
• Dramatis PersonÆ.
• Act I.
• Scene I.—: Thick Wood.
• Scene II.—: The Same.
• Scene III.
• Scene IV.—: The Same.
• Scene V.
• Scene VI.
• Act II.
• Scene I.—: Eugenie’s Apartment In Gothic Style.
• Scene II.
• Scene III.
• Scene IV.
• Scene V.
• Act III.
• Scene I.—: The Antechamber of the Duke, Furnished In Magnificent Modern Style.
• Scene II.
• Scene III.
• Scene IV.
• Act IV.
• Scene I.—: Park At the Port. On One Side a Palace, On the Other a Church; In the Background a Row of Trees Through Which the Port Is Seen Below. Eugenie, Enveloped In a Veil, Seated On a Bench In the Background, With Face Turned to the Sea.
• Scene II.
• Scene III.
• Scene IV.
• Act V.
• Scene I.—: Plaza At the Port.
• Scene II.—: The Same.
• Scene III.
• Scene IV.—: The Same.
• Scene V.
• Scene VI.
• Scene VII.
• Scene VIII.
• Scene IX.
• The Sorrows of Young Werther
• Book I.
• Book II.
• The Editor to the Reader.
• Colma.
• Rhyno.
• Alpin.

Faust.

Second Part

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.

Faust.

Mephistopheles(in various disguises).

also in

ACT I.

Ariel.

Emperor.

Fool(Mephistopheles).

Chancellor.

Commander-in-Chief.

Treasurer.

Marshal.

Astrologer.

Various Ladies, Gentlemen and Pages of the court. Also numerous male and female masks.

Scene—Chiefly in the different apartments and Pleasure Garden of the Imperial Palace.

ACT II.

Famulus.

Baccalaureus.

Wagner.

Homunculus.

Numerous mythical personages and monsters appearing in the Classical Walpurgis-Night.

Scene—Faust’sStudy; afterwards the Pharsalian Plains.

ACT III.

Helen.

Phorkyad(Mephistopheles).

Lynceus,the Watchman.

Euphorion, Helen’sSon.

Panthalisand Chorus of Trojan women.

Scene—At first the supposed Palace of Menelaus in Sparta; afterwards the Courtyard of a mediæval castle, and finally a rocky dell.

ACT IV.

The three mighty men:Bully, Havequick,andHoldfast.

Speedquick.

TheEmperor,and other officers of his Court, as inAct I.

Scene—A high mountainous country and the adjacent neighborhood.

ACT V.

Baucis.

Philemon.

A Wanderer.

Lynceus.

The four gray women:Want, Guilt, CareandNeed.

Lemures.

A Penitent,formerlyMargaret.

Dr. Marianus.

Chorus of Angels and Penitents and various Heavenly characters.

Scene—The neighborhood ofFaust’sPalace, afterwards rocky heights and the higher regions of the sky.

ACT I.

A Pleasing Landscape.

Faustreclining 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 wak’ning 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-environ’d ground,

Twilight sheddeth all-concealing

Mists and balmy odors round:

Whispers low sweet peace to mortals,

Rocks the heart to childlike rest,

And of daylight shuts the portals

To these eyes, with care oppress’d.

Night hath now descended darkling,

Holy star is link’d 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 cancell’d; sorrow,

Happiness, have pass’d 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

Phœbus’ wheels with thund’rous chime:

Breaks with tuneful noise the light!

Blare of trumpet, clarion sounding,

Eyesight dazing, ear astounding!

Hear not the unheard; take flight!

Into petal’d blossoms glide

Deeper, deeper, still to bide,

In the clefts, ’neath thickets! ye,

If it strike you, deaf will be.

Faust.

Life’s pulses reawaken’d freshly bound,

The mild ethereal twilight fain to greet.

Thou, Earth, this night wast also constant found,

And, newly-quicken’d, 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-voiced 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 droop’d erewhile in slumber furl’d;

Earth is enamell’d with unnumber’d dyes,

Leaflet and flower with dewdrops are impearl’d;

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 towards its highest goal,

Fulfilment’s portals open finds at last;—

Sudden from those eternal depths doth roll

An overpowering 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,

An ever-changeful, yet continuous form,

Now drawn distinctly, melting now away,

Diffusing dewy coolness all around!

Man’s efforts there are glass’d, 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 theEmperor.

Trumpets.

Enter courtiers of every grade, splendidly attir’d. The Emperor ascends the throne; to the right theAstrologer.

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 amaz’d as he draws near.

Crosswise the guards before his face,

Entrance to bar, their halberds hold—

Yet there he is, the fool so bold.

Mephis.

(Kneeling before the throne.)

What is accurs’d and gladly hail’d?

What is desir’d and chas’d away?

What is upbraid’d and assail’d?

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 bann’d?

Emperor.

For this time thou thy words mayst 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!

[Mephistophelesascends and places himself at theEmperor’sleft.

(Murmur of the Crowd.)

Here’s a new fool—for plague anew!

Whence cometh he?—How pass’d he through?

The old one fell—he squander’d hath.—

He was a tub—now ’tis a lath.—

Emperor.

So now, my friends, belov’d 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 deform’d 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,

Unscath’d in body, without harm or loss.

Now to the hall accusers throng;

On cushion’d throne the judge presides;

Surging meanwhile in eddying tides,

Confusion waxes fierce and strong.

He may exult 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 injur’d, 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 conspir’d, 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 hath disturb’d a hornet’s nest;

The empire which they should protect,

It lieth plunder’d 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 promis’d subsidies

Like conduit-water, will not flow.

Say, Sire, through your dominions vast

To whom hath now possession pass’d!

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.

Barr’d 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 renew’d, 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 fatten’d now;

Pawn’d is the pillow or the bed,

And to the table comes fore-eaten bread.

Emperor.

(After some reflection toMephistopheles.) Say, fool, another grievance knowest thou?

Mephis.

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!—

Mephis.

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 coin’d and uncoin’d, 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 stirr’d;

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.

Mephis.

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!

Mephis.

I’ll furnish more, ay, more than all you ask.

Though light it seem, 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 swamp’d land and folk together,

How every one, how great soe’er his fear,

All that he treasur’d most, hid there or here;

So was it ’neath the mighty Roman’s sway,

So on till yesterday, ay, till to-day:

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.

Mephis.

You think yourselves, perchance, deceiv’d 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,Mephistophelesprompts.) The sun himself is purest gold; for pay

And favor serves the herald, Mercury;

Dame Venus hath bewitch’d 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.

Mephis.

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!

Mephis.

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,

Scar’d, yet rejoic’d, 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 display’d,

Dishes and plates, row after row;

There beakers, rich with rubies, stand;

And would he use them, close at hand

Well stor’d 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!

Mephis.

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 sweetheart wilt adorn.

A sparkling gem, lustrous, of varied dye,

Beauty exalts as well as majesty.

Emperor.

To work, to work! How long wilt linger?

Mephis.

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 hearts’ content.

Meanwhile we’ll solemnize, whate’er befall,

More merrily the joyous Carnival.

[Trumpets. Exeunt.

Mephis.

That merit and success are link’d together,

This to your fools occurreth never;

Could they appropriate the wise man’s stone,

That, not the wise man, they would prize alone.

[A spacious Hall, with adjoining apartments, arranged and decorated for a masquerade.

Herald.

Think not we hold in Germany our revels;

Where dances reign of death, of fools and devils;

You doth a cheerful festival invite.

Our Cæsar, Romeward turning his campaign,

Hath—for his profit, and for your delight—

Cross’d the high Alps, and won a fair domain.

Before the sacred feet bow’d down,

His right to reign he first hath sought,

And when he went to fetch his crown,

For us the fool’s cap hath he brought.

Now all of us are born anew;

And every world-experienc’d man

Draws it in comfort over head and ears;

A fool beneath it, he appears,

And plays the sage as best he can.

I see them, how they form in groups,

Now they pair off, now wavering sever;

Choir now with choir together troops,

Within, without, unwearied ever!

The world remaineth as of yore,

With fooleries, ten thousand score,

The one great fool, for ever more!

Garden-Girls.

(Song, accompanied by mandolins.) That to us ye praise may render,

Deck’d are we in festive sort;

Girls of Florence, we the splendor

Follow of the German court.

Many a flower, we, Flora’s vassals,

In our dark brown tresses wear;

Silken threads and silken tassels,

Play their part and grace our hair.

For we hold ourselves deserving

All your praises, full and clear;

Since our flowers, their bloom preserving,

Blossom through the livelong year.

Cuttings divers-hued were taken,

And arrang’d with symmetry;

Piece by piece they mirth awaken,

Yet the whole attracts the eye.

Garden-girls and fair to look on,

Fittingly we play our part;

For the natural in woman,

Closely is allied to art.

Herald.

Now from baskets richly laden,

Which, upon her head and arm,

Beareth every lovely maiden,

Let each choose what each doth charm!

Hasten ye, till bower and alley

Aspect of a garden bears!

Worthy are the crowds to dally

Round the sellers and their wares.

Garden-Girls.

In this mart, your flowers unscreening,

Cheapen not, as them you show!

With brief words, but full of meaning,

What he hath, let each one know.

Olive-Branch.

(With fruit.) I of blossoms envy none,

Quarrels studiously I shun;

They against my nature are:

Marrow of the land, in sooth

Pledge I am of peace and ruth,

To all regions near and far.

Be it my good fortune now

To adorn the loveliest brow.

Wheat-Wreath.

(Golden.) Ceres’ gifts, sweet peace expressing,

Would enhance thy charms; be wise!

What is useful, rich in blessing,

As thy best adornment prize!

Fancy-Garland.

Colored flowers, from moss out-peering,

Mallow-like, a wondrous show—

Not in nature’s guise appearing,

Fashion ’tis that makes them blow.

Fancy-Nosegay.

Theophrastus would not venture

Names to give to flowers like these.

Yet, though some perchance may censure,

Many still I hope to please.

Who to wreathe her locks permits me

Straight shall win a heighten’d grace,

Or who near her heart admits me,

Finding on her breast a place.

Challenge.

Be your motley fancies moulded,

For the fashion of the day.

Nature never yet unfolded

Wonders half so strange as they:

Golden bells, green stalks, forth glancing

From rich locks, their charm enhancing.

But we—

Rosebuds.

Hide from mortal eyes.

Happy he who finds the prize!

When draws nigh once more the summer,

Rosebuds greet the bright new-comer.—

Who such happiness would miss?

Promise, then fulfilment,—this

Is the law in Flora’s reign,

Swayeth too sense, heart, and brain.

[The flower-girls tastefully arrange their wares under green, leafy arcades.

Gardeners.

(Song, accompanied by Theorbos.)

• • Mark the blossoms calmly sprouting,
  • Charmingly to wreathe your brow;
  • Fruits will not deceive, I trow;
  • Taste, enjoy them, nothing doubting.
• • Magnum bonums, cherries, peaches,
  • Faces offer sun-embrown’d:
  • Buy, poor judge the eye is found;—
  • Heed what tongue, what palate teaches.
• • Luscious fruits to taste invite them
  • Who behold these rich supplies.
  • We o’er roses poetize;—
  • As for apples, we must bite them.
• • Let us now, with your good pleasure,
  • Join your youthful choir, in pairs;
  • And beside your flowery wares,
  • Thus adorn our riper treasure.
• • Under leaf-adorned bowers,
  • ’Mid the merry windings haste;
  • Each will find what suits his taste;
  • Buds or leafage, fruit or flowers.

[Amid alternate songs, accompanied by guitars and Theorbos, the two choruses proceed to arrange their wares, terrace-wise, and to offer them for sale.

MotherandDaughter.

Mother.

• • Maiden, when thou cam’st to light,
  • Full thy tender form of grace;
  • In its tiny hood bedight,
  • Lovely was thy infant face.
  • Then I thought of thee with pride
  • Of some wealthy youth the bride,
  • Taking as his wife thy place.
• • Ah! full many a year in vain,
  • All unus’d away have pass’d;
  • Of the suitors’ motley train
  • Quickly hath gone by the last!
  • Thou with one didst gaily dance,
  • One didst seek with quiet glance,
  • Or sly elbow-touch, to gain.
• • All the fêtes that we might plan,
  • Vainly did we celebrate;
  • Games of forfeit, or third man,
  • Fruitless were, they brought no mate;
  • Many a fool’s abroad to-day,
  • Dear one, now thy charms display,
  • One thou mayst attach, though late.

[Girlish playfellows, young and beautiful, enter and join the groups; loud confidential chatting is heard. Fishers and bird-catchers with nets, fishing-rods, limed twigs, and other gear, enter and mingle with the maidens. Reciprocal attempts to win, to catch, to escape, and hold fast, give occasion to most agreeable dialogues.

Wood-Cutters.

(Enter, boisterous and uncouth.)

• Place! Give place!
• We must have space!
• Trees we level,
• Down they fall,
• Crashing to the ground;
• As we bear them forth,
• Blows we deal around.
• To our praise, be sure;—
• This proclaim aloud;—
• Labor’d not the boor,
• Where were then the proud!
• How in idless revel
• Could they at their ease!
• Never then forget,—
• If we did not sweat,
• That ye all would freeze.

Punchinelloes.

(Awkward and foolish.)

• Fools are ye, poor hacks!
• Born with curved backs.
• Prudent ones are we,
• From all burdens free;
• For our greasy caps,
• Our jerkins and our traps
• We bear right easily.
• Forthwith at our leisure,
• We with slipper’d feet,
• Saunter at our pleasure,
• On through mart and street,
• Standing still or going,
• At each other crowing;
• When the folk around
• Gather at the sound,
• Slipping then aside,
• Frolicking together,
• Eel-like on we glide.
• And we care not whether
• Ye applaud or blame;
• To us ’tis all the same.

[Editor: illegible word]

(Flattering—lustful.)

• • Porters brave, and you,
  • Charcoal-burners true,
  • Kinsmen, ye indeed
  • Are the men we need.
• • Bowings low,
  • Assenting smiles,
  • Long-drawn phrases,
  • Crooked wiles,
  • Double-breath,
  • That as you please,
  • Blows hot or cold;
  • What profit these?—
• • Down from heaven
  • Must fire be given,
  • Vast, enormous,
  • If, to warm us,
  • We no coal had got,
  • Nor of logs a heap,
  • Warm our hearth to keep,
  • Our furnace to make hot.
• • There is roasting,
  • There is brewing,
  • There is toasting,
  • There is stewing;
  • Your true taster
  • Licks the dish;
  • Sniffs the roast,
  • Forebodes the fish;
  • These for great deeds make him able,
  • Seated at his patron’s table.

Drunken Man.

(Hardly conscious.)

Naught to-day shall mar my pleasure!

Frank I feel myself and free;

Cheerful songs and jovial leisure,

Both I hither bring with me;

Therefore drink I! Drink ye, drink!

Strike your glasses! Clink ye, clink!

You behind there, join the fun!

Strike your glasses; so, ’tis done!

Let my wife, shrill-tongued, assail me,

Sneering at my colored vest,

And, despite my vaunting, hail me

Fool, like masquerader dress’d;

Still I’ll drink! Come drink ye, drink!

Strike your glasses! Clink ye, clink!

Fools in motley, join the fun!

Strike your glasses; so, ’tis done!

Here I’m bless’d, whoever chooses

Me, as erring, to upbraid:

If to score mine host refuses,

Scores the hostess, scores the maid;

Always drink I! drink ye, drink!

Up my comrades! clink ye, clink!

Each to other! Join the fun!

To my thinking now ’tis done!

From this place there’s now no flying,

Here where pleasures are at hand:

Let me lie, where I am lying,

For I can no longer stand.

Chorus.

Brothers all, come drink ye, drink!

One more toast, now clink ye, clink!

Firmly sit on bench and board!

’Neath the table lie who’s floor’d!

[TheHeraldannounces various poets, the Poet of Nature, Court-singers, and Ritter-singers, tender as well as enthusiastic. In the throng of competitors of every kind none will allow the others to be heard. One sneaks past with a few words.

Satirist.

Know ye what would me to-day,

The poet, most rejoice and cheer?

If I dar’d to sing and say,

That which none would like to hear.

[Poets of Night and of the Sepulchre send apologies, inasmuch as they are engaged in a most interesting conversation with a newly-arisen Vampire, wherefrom a new kind of poetry may perhaps be developed; theHeraldmust admit the excuse, and meanwhile summons the Greek Mythology, which, though in modern masks, loses neither character nor charm.

The Graces.

Aglaia.

Charm we bring to life, and grace;

In your gifts let both have place!

Hegemony.

In receiving let the twain,

Preside! ’Tis sweet our wish to gain.

Euphrosyne.

And when benefits you own

Chiefly be these graces shown!

The Fates.

Atropos.

I, the Eldest, am from yonder

Realm invited, here to spin.

Much to think of, much to ponder,

Lieth life’s frail thread within.

That it pliant be and tender,

Finest flax to choose be mine;

That it even be and slender,

Must the cunning finger twine.

If of festive dance and pleasure

Ye too wantonly partake,

Think upon this thread’s just measure;

O be cautious! It may break!

Clotho.

Know ye, to my guidance lately

They the fateful shears confide.

By our elder’s doings greatly

None, in sooth, were edified.

Spinnings, to no issue tending,

Forth she drew to air and light;

Threads of noblest promise rending,

Down she sent to realms of night.

While a novice still in reigning,

I too err’d, in bygone years;

But to-day, myself restraining,

In the sheath I plunge my shears.

Fain I am to wear the bridle,

Kindly I this place survey;

In these seasons, gay and idle,

Give your revelry full play!

Lachesis.

Reason’s laws alone obeying,

Order was to me decreed.

Mine the will that, ever-swaying,

Never errs though over-speed.

Threads are coming; threads are going;

Each one in its course I guide,

None permit I overflowing,

From its skein to swerve aside.

Were I only once to slumber!—

For the world my spirit quakes;

Years we measure, hours we number,

And the hank the weaver takes.

Herald.

How vers’d so e’er in lore of ancient fame,

Those who are coming now ye would not know;

Gazing upon these workers of much woe,

Them, as your welcome guests, ye would proclaim.

The Furies these,—none will believe us;—kind,

Graceful in figure, pretty, young and fair;

If their acquaintance ye would make, beware;

How serpent-like such doves can wound, ye’ll find.

Cunning they are, yet now, when every clown

Boastful, his failings shuns not to proclaim,

They too, desiring not angelic fame,

Own themselves plagues of country and of town.

Alecto.

What help for you? Since young we are and fair,

Ye in such flattering kittens will confide!

Has any here a sweetheart to his side,

Stealing, we gain his ear, until we dare

To tell him, face to face, she may be caught

Winking at this or that one; that ’tis plain,

She halts, is crooked-back’d, and dull of brain,

And, if to him betroth’d, is good for naught.

To vex the bride doth also tax our skill:

We tell what slighting things, some weeks agone,

Her lover said of her, to such an one.—

They’re reconcil’d, yet something rankles still.

Megara.

That’s a mere jest! Let them be mated, then

I go to work, and e’en the fairest joy,

In every case, can through caprice destroy.

The hours are changeful, changeful too are men.

What was desir’d, once grasp’d, its charm hath lost;

Who firmly holds the madly longed-for prize,

Straight for some other blessing fondly sighs;

The sun he flieth, and would warm the frost.

How to arrange, I know, in such affairs;

And here Asmodi lead, my comrade true,

At the right time mischief abroad to strew;

And so destroy the human race in pairs.

Tisiphone.

• • Poison, steel, I mix and whet,
  • Words abjuring,—for the traitor;—
  • Lov’st thou others, sooner, later,
  • Ruin shall o’erwhelm thee yet.
• • All transform’d to gall and foam
  • Is the moment’s sweetest feeling!
  • Here no higgling, here no dealing!
  • Sinn’d he hath, his sin comes home.
• • Let none say: “Forgiveness cherish!”
  • To the rocks my cause I bring;
  • Hark! Revenge, the echoes ring!
  • Who betrayeth, he must perish!

Herald.

Now may it please you, to retire behind;

For what now cometh is not of your kind.—

Ye see a mountain press the crowd among,

Its flanks with brilliant carpet proudly hung;

With lengthen’d tusks, and serpent-trunk below,

A mystery, but I the key will show.

Thron’d on his neck a gentle lady rides,

With a fine wand his onward course she guides.

Aloft the other stands, of stately height,

Girt with a splendor that o’erpowers the sight;

Beside him, chain’d, two noble dames draw near;

Sad is the one, the other blithe of cheer;

The one for freedom yearns, the other feels she’s free.

Let them declare in turn who they may be!

Fear.

Torches, lamps, with lurid sheen,

Through the turmoil gleam around;

These deceitful forms between,

Fetters hold me firmly bound.

Hence, vain laughter-loving brood!

I mistrust your senseless grin!

All my foes, with clamor rude,

Strive to-night to hem me in.

Friend like foeman would betray me,

But his mask I recognize;

There is one who fain would slay me,

Now, unmask’d, away he hies.

Ah, how gladly would I wander

Hence, and leave this lower sphere;

But destruction, threatening yonder,

Holds me ’twixt despair and fear.

Hope.

Hail! Beloved sisters, hail!

If to-day and yesterday

Ye have lov’d this masking play,

Yet to-morrow, trite the tale,

Will your masks aside be thrown;

And if, ’neath the torches’ glare,

We no special joy have known,

Yet will we, in daylight fair,

Just according to our pleasure,

Now with others, now alone,

Wander forth o’er lawn and mead;

Work at will, or take our leisure,

Careless live, exempt from need;

And at last, we’ll aye succeed.

Everywhere, as welcome guest,

Step we in, with easy mind;

Confident that we the best

Somewhere, certainly, may find.

Prudence.

Fear and hope, in chains thus guiding,

Two of man’s chief foes, I bar

From the thronging crowds;—dividing,

Clear the way;—now sav’d ye are!

I this live colosse am leading,

Which, tower-laden, as ye gaze,

Unfatigued is onward speeding,

Step by step, up steepest ways.

But, with broad and rapid pinion,

From the battlement on high,

Gazing on her wide dominion,

Turneth that divinity.

Fame, around her, bright and glorious,

Shining on all sides one sees:

Victory her name,—victorious

Queen of all activities.

Zoilo-Thersites.

Bah! bah! The very time I’ve hit!

You all are wrong, no doubt of it!

Yet what I make my special aim

Is victory, yon stately dame.

She, with her snowy wings, esteems

Herself an eagle, and still deems

That wheresoe’er she bends her sight,

Peoples and land are hers, by right!

But, where a glorious deed is done,

My harness straight I buckle on;

Where high is low, and low is high,

The crooked straight, the straight awry—

Then only am I wholly sound:

So be it on this earthly round.

Herald.

So take thou then, thou ragged hound,

From my good staff, a master-blow!

There crouch and wriggle, bending low!

The double dwarfish form, behold,

Itself to a vile ball hath roll’d!

The ball becomes an egg!—strange wonder!

It now dilates and bursts asunder:

Thence falleth a twin-pair to earth,

Adder and bat;—a hideous birth;

Forth in the dust one creeps, his brother

Doth darkling to the ceiling flee;

Outside they haste to join each other—

The third I am not fain to be!

(Murmur.)

• Come on! Behind they’re dancing—No,
• Not I, from hence I fain would go—
• Dost thou not feel the spectral rout
• Is flitting everywhere about?
• It whistl’d right above my hair—
• Close to my feet,—I felt it there—
• No one is hurt—’tis not denied,—
• But we have all been terrified—
• Wholly the frolic now is ended—
• ’Tis what the brutish pair intended.

Herald.

Since on me, at festive masque,

Laid hath been the Herald’s task,

At the doors I watch with care,

Lest aught harmful, unaware,

Creep into this joyous space;

I nor waver, nor give place.

Yet I fear the spectral brood

Through the window may intrude;

And from trick and sorcery,

I know not how to keep you free.

First the dwarf awaken’d doubt,

Now streams in the spectral rout.

I would show you herald-wise,

What each figure signifies.

But what none can comprehend

I should strive to teach in vain.

All must help me to explain!—

Through the crowd behold ye it wend;

A splendid car is borne along

By a team of four; the throng

Is not parted, nor doth reign

Tumult round the stately wain;

Bright it glitters from afar;

Shineth many a motley star,

As from magic-lantern cast;

On it snorts with stormful blast.—

I needs must shudder! Clear the way!

Boy-Charioteer.

Stay your wings, ye coursers, stay!

Own the bridle’s wonted sway!

Rein yourselves, as you I rein;

When I prompt you, rush amain!—

Honor we this festal ground.

See how press the folk around,

Ring in ring, with wondering eyes.—

Herald, as thy wont is, rise;

From you ere we flee afar,

Tell our name, our meaning show!

Since we allegories are,

’Tis thy duty us to know.

Herald.

I cannot guess how I should name thee;

I to describe thee should prefer.

Boy-Charioteer.

So, try it then!

Herald.

We must proclaim thee,

Firstly to be both young and fair;

A half-grown boy;—yet women own

They fain would see thee fully grown;

A future wooer seemest thou to me,

A gay deceiver out and out to be.

Boy-Charioteer.

Not badly spoken! Pray proceed!

The riddle’s cheerful meaning strive to read.

Herald.

Thine eyes swart flash, thy jewell’d bandlet glowing

Starlike, amid thy night-like hair;

And what a graceful robe dost wear,

Down from thy shoulder to thy buskin flowing,

With purple hem and fringes rare!

Thee as a girl one might misprize;

Yet thou, for weal or woe, wouldst be,

E’en now, of worth in maidens’ eyes;

Thee they would teach the A B C.

Boy-Charioteer.

And he whose stately figure gleams

Enthron’d upon his chariot wain?

Herald.

A monarch, rich and mild, he seems;

Happy who may his grace obtain,

Henceforth they’ve naught for which to strive!

His glance discerns if aught’s amiss;

Greater his pleasure is to give,

Than to possess or wealth or bliss.

Boy-Charioteer.

Suspend not here thy words, I pray,

Him thou more fully must portray.

Herald.

The noble none can paint. Yet there

Glows the round visage, hale and fair,

Full mouth, and blooming cheeks, descried

Beneath the turban’s jewell’d pride;

What ease his mantle folds display!

What of his bearing can I say?

As ruler seems he known to me.

Boy-Charioteer.

Plutus, the god of wealth is he.

Hither he comes in royal state;

Of him the emperor’s need is great.

Herald.

Tell of thyself the what and how to me!

Boy-Charioteer.

I am profusion, I am Poesie;

The bard am I, who to perfection tends

When freely he his inner wealth expends.

I too have riches beyond measure,

And match with Plutus’ wealth my treasure;

For him adorn and quicken dance and show,

And what he lacketh, that do I bestow.

Herald.

Boasting to thee new charm imparts.

Now show us something of thine arts!

Boy-Charioteer.

See me but snap my fingers, lo!

Around the car what splendors glow!

A string of pearls forth leapeth here;

[Continually snapping.

Take golden clasps for neck and ear;

Combs too, and other precious things,

Crowns without flaw, and jewell’d rings!

Flamelets I scatter too, in play,

Awaiting where they kindle may.

Herald.

How the good people snatch and seize!

Almost the donor’s self they squeeze.

As in a dream he gems doth rain,

In the wide space they snatch amain.

But—here new juggling meets mine eye:

What one doth grasp so eagerly,

Doth prove, in sooth, a sorry prize;

Away from him the treasure flies;

The pearls are loosen’d from their band;

Now beetles crawl within his hand;

He shakes them off, poor fool, instead,

Swarming, they buzz around his head;

Others, in place of solid things,

Catch butterflies, with lightsome wings.

Though vast his promises, the knave

To them but golden glitter gave!

Boy-Charioteer.

Masks, I remark, thou canst announce full well;

Only to reach the essence ’neath the shell,

Is not the Herald’s courtly task;

A sharper vision that dost ask.

But I from every quarrel would be free.—

Master, I speech and question turn to thee.

[Turning toPlutus.

The storm-blast didst thou not confide

To me, of this four-yoked car?

Lead I not well, as thou dost guide?

Where thou dost point, thence am I far?

Have I not known, on daring wing

For thee the victor’s palm to wring?

Full often as for thee I’ve fought,

Still have I conquer’d; and if now

The laurel decorates thy brow,

Have not my hand and skill the chaplet wrought?

Plutus.

If need there be, that I should witness bear,—

Soul of my soul, thee gladly I declare:

According to my will thou actest ever;

Art richer than myself denied.

To give thy service its due meed,

Before all crowns the laurel wreath I treasure.

This truthful word let all men hear:

My son art thou, thee doth my soul hold dear.

Boy-Charioteer.

(To the crowd.)

Now of my hand the choicest dower,

I’ve scatter’d in this festive hour;

There glows on this or that one’s head

A flame, which I abroad have shed;

From one to other now it hies,

To this one cleaves, from that one flies,

Seldom aloft its flames aspire;

Sudden they gleam, with transient fire;

With many, ere they know the prize,

It mournfully burns out and dies.

(Clamor of Women.)

• He yonder, on the chariot-van,
• Is, without doubt, a charlatan.
• Behind him, crouching, is the clown,
• By thirst and hunger so worn down,
• The like was never seen till now;
• If pinch’d, he would not feel, I trow.

The Starveling.

Avaunt, ye loathed women-kind!

With you I ne’er a welcome find.—

When rul’d the hearth your thrifty dame,

Then Avaritia was my name;

Then throve our household well throughout;

For much came in, and naught went out!

Great was my zeal for chest and bin—

And that, forsooth, you call a sin!

But in these later years, no more

The wife is thrifty as of yore;

She, like each tardy payer, owns

Far more desires than golden crowns;

This for her spouse much care begets;

Where’er he turneth, there are debts;

What she by spinning earns, she spends

On gay attire, and wanton friends;

Better she feasts, and drinketh too

More wine, with her vile suitor crew:

That rais’d for me of gold the price.

Now, male of sex, I’m Avarice!

Leader of the Women.

Dragon may still with dragon spare;

It’s cheat and lies at last, no more!

He comes to rouse the men; beware!

Full troublesome they were before.

Women.

(All together.) The scarecrow! Box his ears! Make haste!

To threat us does the juggler dare?

Us shall his foolish prating scare?

The dragons are but wood and paste;

Press in upon him, do not spare!

Herald.

Now, by my staff! Keep quiet there!

Yet scarcely needed is my aid.

See, in the quickly opened space,

How the grim monsters move apace!

Their pinions’ double pair display’d!

The dragons shake themselves in ire,

Scale-proof, their jaws exhaling fire—

The crowd recedes; clear is the place.

[Plutusdescends from the chariot.

Herald.

He steps below, a king confess’d!

He nods, the dragons move; the chest

They from the chariot, in a trice,

Have lower’d, with gold and avarice;

Before his feet it standeth now:

How done a marvel is, I trow.

Plutus.

(To theCharioteer.) Now from the burden that oppress’d thee here

Thou’rt frank and free; away to thine own sphere!

Here is it not; distorted, wild, grotesque,

Surrounds us here a motley arabesque.

There fly, where on thy genius thou canst wait,

Lord of thyself; where charm the good, the fair;

Where clear thy vision in the clear calm air;

To solitude—there thine own world create!

Boy-Charioteer.

Myself as trusty envoy I approve;

Thee as my nearest relative I love.

Where thou dost dwell, is fulness; where I reign,

Within himself each feeleth glorious gain;

And ’mid life’s contradictions wavers he:

Shall he resign himself to thee, to me?

Thy votaries may idly rest, ’tis true;

Who follows me, hath always work to do.

My deeds are not accomplish’d in the shade,

I only breathe, and forthwith am betray’d.

Farewell! My bliss thou grudgest not to me;

But whisper low, and straight I’m back with thee.

[Exit as he came.

Plutus.

Now is the time the treasure to set free!

The locks I strike, thus with the Herald’s rod;

’Tis open’d now! In blazing caldrons, see,

It bubbles up, and shows like golden blood;

Next crowns, and chains, and rings, a precious dower:

It swells and fusing threats the jewels to devour.

(Alternate cry of the Crowd.)

Look here! look there! How flows the treasure,

To the chest’s brim in ample measure!—

Vessels of gold are melting, near

Up-surging, coin’d rouleaux appear,

And ducats leap as if impress’d—

O how the vision stirs my breast!—

My heart’s desire now meets mine eye!

They’re rolling on the floor, hard by.—

To you ’tis proffer’d; do not wait,

Stoop only, you are wealthy straight!—

While, quick as lightning, we anon,

The chest itself will seize upon.

Herald.

Ye fools, what ails you? What your quest?

’Tis but a masquerading jest.

To-night no more desire ye may;

Think you that gold we give away,

And things of worth? For such as you,

And at such foolish masking too,

E’en counters were too much to pay.

Blockheads! a pleasing show, forsooth,

Ye take at once for solid truth.

What’s truth to you? Delusion vain

At every turn ye clutch amain.—

Thou, Plutus, hero of the masque,

This folk to chase, be now thy task!

Plutus.

Ready at hand thy staff I see;

For a brief moment lend it me!—

Quickly in fire and seething glare

I’ll dip it.—Now, ye masks, beware!

It sputters, crackles, flares outright;

Bravely the torch is now alight;

And pressing round, who comes too nigh,

Is forthwith scorch’d, relentlessly!—

Now then my circuit is begun.

(Cries and Tumult.)

O misery! We are undone.—

Escape, let each escape who can!

Back! further back! thou hindmost man!—

Hot in my face it sputter’d straight—

Of the red staff I felt the weight—

We all, alas! we all are lost!—

Back, back, thou masquerading host!—

Back, back, unthinking crowd!—Ah me,

Had I but wings, I hence would flee!—

Plutus.

Back is the circle driven now;

And no one has been sing’d, I trow.

The crowds give way,

Scared, with dismay.—

Yet, pledge of order and of law,

A ring invisible I draw.

Herald.

Achiev’d thou hast a noble deed;

For thy sage might be thanks thy meed!

Plutus.

Yet needs there patience, noble friend;

Still many a tumult doth impend.

Avarice.

If it so please us, pleasantly,

We on this living ring may gaze around.

For women ever foremost will be found,

If aught allure the palate or the eye.

Not yet am I grown rusty quite!

A pretty face must always please;

And since it nothing costs to-night,

We’ll go a-wooing at our ease.

Yet as in this o’ercrowded sphere,

Words are not audible to every ear,

Deftly I’ll try,—and can but hope success—

In pantomime my meaning to express.

Hand, foot and gesture will not here suffice,

Hence I must strive to fashion some device:

Like moisten’d clay forthwith I’ll knead the gold;

This metal into all things we can mould.

Herald.

The meagre fool, what doeth he?

Hath such a starveling humor? See,

He kneadeth all the gold to dough,

Beneath his hand ’tis pliant too;

Yet howsoe’er he squeeze and strain,

Misshapen it must still remain.

He to the women turns, but they

All scream, and fain would flee away,

With gestures of aversion. Still

Ready the rascal seems for ill;

Happy, I fear, himself he rates,

When decency he violates.

Silence were wrong in such a case;

Give me my staff, him forth to chase!

Plutus.

What threats us from without, he bodeth not.

Let him play out his pranks a little longer!

Room for his jest will fail him soon, I wot;

Strong as is law, necessity is stronger.

[EnterFauns, Satyrs, Gnomes, Nymphs,etc., attendants onPan,and announcing his approach.

(Tumult and Song.)

• From forest-vale and mountain height,
• Advancing with resistless might,
• The savage host, it cometh straight:
• Their mighty Pan they celebrate.
• They know, what none beside can guess;
• Into the vacant ring they press.

Plutus.

You and your mighty Pan I recognize!

Conjoin’d you’ve enter’d on a bold emprise.

Full well I know, what is not known to all,

And ope this narrow space, at duty’s call.—

O may a happy Fate attend!

Wonders most strange may happen now;

They know not where unto they tend;

Forward they have not look’d, I trow.

(Wild Song.)

Bedizen’d people, glittering brood!

They’re coming rough, they’re coming rude;

With hasty run, with lofty bound,

Stalwart and strong they press around.

Fauns.

Fauns advance,

Their crisp locks bound

With oak-leaves round,—

In merry dance!

artist franz simm.

FAUST. SECOND PART.

pan and his attendants

A fine and sharply pointed ear,

Forth from their clustering locks doth peer;

A stumpy nose, with breadth of face—

These forfeit not a lady’s grace:

If but his paw the Faun advance,

Not lightly will the fairest shun the dance.

Satyr.

The Satyr now comes hopping in,

With foot of goat, and withered shin;

These sinewy must be and thin.

In chamois-guise, on mountain height,

Around to gaze is his delight;

In freedom’s air, with freshness rife,

Child he despiseth, man and wife,

Who, ’mid the valley’s smoke and steam,

That they too live, contented dream;

On those pure heights, sequester’d, lone,

The upper world is his alone!

Gnomes.

Tripping, here comes a tiny crew.

They like not keeping two and two;

In mossy dress, with lamplet clear,

Commingling swiftly, they career,

Where for himself his task each plies,

Swarming they glitter, emmet-wise;

And ever busy, move about,

With ceaseless bustle in and out.

We the “Good Folk” as kindred own,

As rock-chirurgists well we’re known;

Cupping the lofty hills, we drain,

With cunning, from each well-fill’d vein,

The metals, which aloft we pile,

Shouting, Good luck! Good luck! the while:

Kindness at bottom we intend;

Good men we evermore befriend.

Yet to the light we gold unseal,

That men therewith may pimp and steal;

Nor to the proud, who murder plann’d

Wholesale, shall fail the iron brand;

These three commands who hath transgress’d,

Will take small reckoning of the rest;

Nathless for that we’re not to blame:

Patient we are, be ye the same!

Giants.

The wild men, such in sooth our name,

Upon the Hartzberg known to fame,

Naked, in ancient vigor strong,

Pell-mell we come, a giant throng;

With pine-stem grasp’d in dexter hand,

And round the loins a padded band,

Apron of leaf and bough, uncouth,—

Such guards the pope owns not, in sooth.

Chorus of Nymphs.

(They surround the greatPan.) He draweth near!

In mighty Pan

The All we scan

Of this world-sphere.

All ye of gayest mood advance,

And him surround, in sportive dance!

For since he earnest is and kind,

Joy everywhere he fain would find;

E’en ’neath the blue o’erarching sky,

He watcheth still, with wakeful eye;

Purling to him the brooklet flows,

And zephyrs lull him to repose;

And when he slumbers at mid-day,

Stirs not a leaf upon the spray;

Health-breathing plants, with balsams rare,

Pervade the still and silent air;

The nymph no more gay vigil keeps,

And where she standeth, there she sleeps.

But if, at unexpected hour,

His voice resounds with mighty power,

Like thunder, or the roaring sea,

Then knoweth none, where he may flee;

Panic the valiant host assails,

The hero in the tumult quails.

Then honor to whom honor’s due!

And hail to him, who leads us unto you!

Deputation ofGnomes.

(To the greatPan.)

• • When a treasure, richly shining,
  • Winds through clefts its thread-like way,
  • Sole the cunning rod, divining,
  • Can its labyrinth display.
• • Troglodytes, in caves abiding,
  • We our sunless homes vault o’er;
  • Thou, ’mid day’s pure airs presiding,
  • Graciously thy gifts dost pour.
• • Close at hand, a fount of treasure
  • We have found, a wondrous vein;—
  • Promising in fullest measure,
  • What we scarce might hope to gain.
• • Perfect thou alone canst make it;
  • Every treasure in thy hand,
  • Is a world-wide blessing; take it,
  • Thine it is, Sire, to command!

Plutus.

(To theHerald.) Our self-possession now must be display’d,

And come what may, we must be undismayed;

Still hast thou shown a strong, courageous soul.

A dreadful incident will soon betide;

’Twill be by world and after-world denied;

Inscribe it truly in thy protocol!

Herald.

(Grasping the staff whichPlutusholds in his hand.) The dwarfs conduct the mighty Pan

Softly the source of fire to scan;

It surges from the gulf profound,

Then downward plunges ’neath the ground;

While dark the mouth stands, gaping wide,

Once more uprolls the fiery tide.

The mighty Pan stands well-content,

Rejoicing in the wondrous sight,

While pearl-foam drizzles left and right.

How may he trust such element!

Bending, he stoops to look within.—

But now his beard hath fallen in!—

Who may he be, with shaven chin?

His hand conceals it from our eyes.—

Now doth a dire mishap arise;

His beard takes fire and backward flies;

Wreath, head and breast are all ablaze;

Joy is transformed to dire amaze.—

To quench the fire his followers run;

Free from the flames remaineth none;

Still as they strike from side to side,

New flames are kindled far and wide;

Envelop’d in the fiery shroud,

Burns now the masquerading crowd.

But what’s the tale that’s rumor’d here,

From mouth to mouth, from ear to ear!

O night, for aye with sorrow fraught,

To us what mischief hast thou brought!

The coming morn will tidings voice,

At which, in sooth, will none rejoice.

From every side they cry amain,

“The Emperor suffers grievous pain!”

O were some other tidings true!—

The Emperor burns, his escort too.

Accurs’d be they, for evermore,

Who him seduc’d, with noisy roar,

Abroad, begirt with pitchy bough,

To roam, for general overthrow!

O youth, O youth, and wilt thou never

To joy assign its fitting bound?

O Majesty, with reason never

Will thy omnipotence be crown’d?

The mimic forest hath caught fire;

Tongue-like the flame mounts high and higher;

Now on the wood-bound roof it plays,

And threats one universal blaze!

O’erflows our cup of suffering;

I know not, who may rescue bring;

Imperial pomp, so rich o’er night,

An ash-heap lies in morning’s light.

Plutus.

Long enough hath terror sway’d;

Hither now be help convey’d.

Strike, thou hallow’d staff, the ground,

Till earth tremble and resound!

Cooling vapors everywhere

Fill the wide and spacious air!

Moisture-teeming mist and cloud

Draw anear, and us o’ershroud;

Veil the fiery tumult, veil!

Curling, drizzling, breathing low,

Gracious cloudlets hither sail,

Shedding down the gentle rain!

To extinguish, to allay,

Ye, the assuagers, strive amain;

Into summer-lightning’s glow

Change our empty fiery play!—

Threaten spirits us to hurt,

Magic must its power assert.

Pleasure-Garden.

Morning sun.

[TheEmperor,his court, men and women;Faust, Mephistophelesdressed becomingly, in the usual fashion; both kneel.

Faust.

The flaming juggler’s play dost pardon, Sire?

Emperor.

I of such sports full many should desire.—

I saw myself within a glowing sphere;

Almost it seem’d as if I Pluto were;

A rock abyss there lay, with fire aglow,

Gloomy as night; from many a gulf below,

Seething, a thousand savage flames ascend,

And in a fiery vault together blend;

Up to the highest dome their tongues were toss’d,

Which ever was, and evermore was lost.

In the far space, through spiral shafts of flame,

Peoples I saw, in lengthen’d lines who came;

In the wide circle forward press’d the crowd,

And as their wont hath been, in homage bow’d;

I seem’d, surrounded by my courtly train,

O’er thousand Salamanders king to reign.

Mephis.

Such art thou, Sire! For thee each element

To own as absolute is well content.

Obedient thou hast proven fire to be.

Where it is wildest, leap into the sea—

And scarce thy foot the pearl-strewn floor shall tread,

A glorious, billowy dome o’ervaults thy head;

Wavelets of tender green thou seest swelling,

With purple edge, to form thy beauteous dwelling,

Round thee, the central point; where thou dost wend,

At every step, thy palace homes attend;

The very walls, in life rejoicing, flow

With arrowy swiftness, surging to and fro;

Sea-marvels to the new and gentle light repair;

They dart along, to enter none may dare;

There sports, with scales of gold, the bright-hued snake,

Gapes the fell shark, his jaws thy laughter wake:

Howe’er thy court may round thee now delight,

Such throng as this, before ne’er met thy sight.

Nor long shalt sever’d be from the most fair;

The curious Nereids, to thy dwelling rare,

’Mid the eternal freshness, shall draw nigh;

The youngest, greedy like the fish, and shy;

The elder prudent. Thetis hears the news,

Nor to the second Peleus will refuse

Or hand or lip.—Olympos’ wide domain—

Emperor.

I leave to thee, thou o’er the air mayst reign;

Full early every one must mount that throne.

Mephis.

Earth, noblest Sire! already thou dost own.

Emperor.

Hither what happy Fate, with kindness fraught,

Thee from the thousand nights and one hath brought!

If thou, like Scheherazade, prolific art,

To thee my highest favor I’ll impart;

Be ever near when, as is oft the case,

Most irksome is our world of commonplace!

Marshal.

(Entering in haste.)

Your Highness, never thought I in my life

Tidings to give, with such good fortune rife

As these which, in thy presence, cheer

My raptur’d heart, absolv’d from fear;

All reckonings paid, from debt we’re eased:—

The usurer’s clutches are appeas’d—

From such hell-torment I am free!

In Heaven can none more cheerful be.

Commander-in-Chief.

(Follows hastily.)

Paid in advance the soldiers’ due,

Now the whole army’s pledged anew.

Blood dances in the trooper’s veins;

Vinter and damsel reap their gains.

Emperor.

How freely now your breast doth heave!

The marks of care your visage leave!

How hastily you enter!

Treasurer.

(Entering.) Sire, proceed

These men to question who have done the deed.

Faust.

(To theChancellor.) To you it doth belong the case to state.

Chancellor.

(Who advances slowly.)

In my old days I am with joy elate!

So hear and see this fortune-weighted scroll,

Which hath to happiness transform’d our dole:

(He reads.)

“To all whom it concerneth, be it known:

Who owns this note a thousand crowns doth own.

To him assur’d, as certain pledge, there lies,

Beneath the Emperor’s land, a boundless prize;

It is decreed, this wealth without delay

To raise, therewith the promis’d sum to pay.”

Emperor.

Crime I suspect, some huge deceit!

The Emperor’s name who here doth counterfeit?

Unpunish’d still remains such breach of right?

Treasurer.

Remember, Sire! Thyself but yesternight

Didst sign the note.—Thou stoodst as mighty Pan;

Then spake the Chancellor, whose words thus ran:

“This festive pleasure for thyself obtain,

Thy people’s weal, with a few pen-strokes gain!”

These mad’st thou clearly; thousand-fold last night

Have artists multiplied what thou didst write;

And that to each alike might fall the aid,

To stamp the series, we have not delay’d,

Ten, thirty, fifty, hundreds at a stroke.

You cannot guess, how it rejoic’d the folk:

Behold your town, mouldering half dead that lay,

How full of life and bounding joy to-day!

Long as thy name hath bless’d the world, till now

So gladly was it ne’er beheld, I trow.

The Alphabet is now redundant grown;

Each in this sign finds happiness alone.

Emperor.

My people take it for true gold, you say?

In camp, at court, it passes for full pay?

Much as I wonder, it I must allow.

Marshal.

To stay the flying leaves were hopeless now;

With speed of lightning all abroad they float:

The changers’ banks stand open; every note

Is honored there with silver and with gold;

Discount deducted, if the truth were told.

To butcher, baker, vintner, thence they fare;

With half the world is feasting their sole care;

The other half, new-vestur’d, bravely shows;

The mercer cuts away, the tailor sews.

In cellars still “The Emperor!” they toast,

While, amid clattering plates, they boil and roast.

Mephis.

Alone who treads the terraced promenade,

Sees there the fair one, splendidly array’d;

One eye the peacock’s fan conceals; the while

This note in view, she lures us with her smile,

And swifter than through eloquence or wit,

Love’s richest favor may be won by it.

One’s self with purse and scrip one need not tease.

Hid in the breast, a note is borne with ease,

And with the billet-doux is coupled there;

The priest conveys it in his book of prayer;

The soldier, that his limbs may be more free,

Quickly his girdle lightens. Pardon me,

Your Majesty, if the high work I seem,

Dwelling on these details, to disesteem.

Faust.

This superfluity of wealth, that deep

Imprison’d in its soil thy land doth keep,

Lies all unus’d; wide-reaching thought profound

Is of such treasure but a sorry bound;

In loftiest flight, fancy still strives amain

To reach its limit, but still strives in vain—

Yet minds who dare behind the veil to press,

In the unbounded, boundless faith possess.

Mephis.

Such paper, in the place of pearls and gold,

Convenient is, we know how much we hold;

No need for change or barter, each at will

Of love and wine may henceforth drink his fill.

If coin is needed, stands the changer nigh,

If there it faileth, straight the shovel ply;

Goblet and chain at auction fetch their price;

The paper, forthwith cancell’d, in a trice

The sceptic shames, who us did erst deride;

The people, used to it, wish naught beside:

So henceforth, through the realm, there’s goodly store,

Of jewels, gold, and paper, evermore.

Emperor.

You this high aid have render’d to our state;

Great is the service, be the meed as great!

Our realm’s subsoil confide we to your care;

Best guardians of the treasure buried there.

Full well ye know the vast, well-guarded hoard,

And when men dig, so be it at your word!

ToFaustand theTreasurer.

Ally yourselves, ye masters of our treasure,

The honors of your place fulfil with pleasure,

There where together join’d in blest content,

The upper with the under world is blent!

Treasurer.

Not the most distant strife shall us divide;

As colleague be the conjuror at my side.

[Exit withFaust.

Emperor.

If I at court each man with gifts endow,

Whereto he’ll use them, let each tell me now.

Page.

(Receiving.) Merry I’ll be, and taste life’s pleasant things.

Another.

(The same.) I for my sweetheart will buy chain and rings.

Chamberlain.

(Accepting.) Wine twice as good from this time forth I’ll drink.

Another.

(The same.) The dice already in my pocket clink.

Banneret.

(Thoughtfully.) My field and castle I from debt will free.

Another.

(The same.) I’ll lay my treasure in my treasury.

Emperor.

Courage I hoped, and joy, for new emprise—

But whoso knows you, straight will recognize;

I mark it well, though wealth be multiplied,

Just what ye were, the same will ye abide!

Fool.

(Approaching.) Favors you scatter; grant me some, I pray!

Emperor.

What, living yet? Thou’lt drink them soon away.

Fool.

These magic leaves! I comprehend not quite—

Emperor.

That I believe: them thou’lt not spend aright.

Fool.

There, others drop—I know not what to do—

Emperor.

Take them! They’ve fallen to thy share. Adieu!

[Exit.

Fool.

Five thousand crowns in hand! can it be true?

Mephis.

Thou two-legg’d paunch, art thou then risen anew?

Fool.

As oft before, ne’er happily as now.

Mephis.

So great thy joy, it makes thee sweat, I trow.

Fool.

Is this indeed worth money? art thou sure?

Mephis.

What throat and paunch desire it will procure.

Fool.

Can I then field, and house, and cattle buy?

Mephis.

Of course! Bid only, thee it will not fail.

Fool.

Castle with forest, chase, and fishpond?

Mephis.

Ay!

Thee as your worship I should like to hail!

Fool.

As land-owner I’ll rock myself ere eve!

[Exit.

Mephis.

In our fool’s wit who will not now believe?

Dark Gallery.

Faust. Mephistopheles.

Mephis.

Why drag me these dark corridors along?

Within hast not enough of sport?

Occasion ’mid the motley throng

For jest and lie, hast not at court?

Faust.

Speak not of that; in days of old hast thou

Outworn it to the very soles. But now,

Thy shuffling is a mere pretext

How to evade my questions. Sore perplex’d,

I know not how to act, or what to do;

The marshal urges me, the steward too,

The Emperor wills it—hence it straight must be—

Wills Helena and Paris here to see;

Of man and womankind the true ideal,

He fain would view, in forms distinct and real.

Quick to the work! My word I may not break.

Mephis.

Such promise it was weak, nay, mad to make.

Faust.

Comrade, thou hast not thought, I trow,

Whither these arts of thine must lead:

First we have made him rich, and now

Him to amuse we must proceed.

Mephis.

Thou think’st no sooner said than done;

Here before steeper steps we stand,

A foreign realm must here be won,

New debts wilt add to those of old.

With the same ease dost think I can command

Helen, as phantom-notes evoke for gold!

With wizard, witchery, or ghostly ghost,

Or goiter’d dwarf, I’m ready at my post,

But Devil’s darlings, though we mayn’t abuse them,

Yet cannot we as heroines produce them.

Faust.

Still harping on the ancient lyre!

The father thou of hindrances;—with thee

We needs must fall into uncertainty;

For each expedient thou dost claim new hire!

With little muttering, I know, ’tis done;

Ere one looks round, thou’lt bring them to the spot.

Mephis.

The Heathen-folk I’m glad to let alone,

In their own hell is cast their lot;

Yet are there means—

Faust.

Speak quickly, naught withhold!

Mephis.

Loth am I higher secrets to unfold.

In solitude, where reigns nor space nor time,

Are goddesses enthron’d from early prime;

’Tis hard to speak of beings so sublime—

The Mothers are they.

Faust.

(Terrified.) Mothers!

Mephis.

Tremblest thou?

Faust.

The Mothers! Mothers! strange it sounds, I trow!

Mephis.

And is so: Goddesses, to men unknown,

And by us nam’d unwillingly, I own.

Their home to reach, full deeply must thou mine.

That we have need of them, the fault is thine!

Faust.

The way?

Mephis.

No way; to the untrodden none,

Not to be trodden, neither to be won

By prayer! Art ready for the great emprise?

No locks are there, no bolts thy way to bar;

By solitudes shalt thou be whirl’d afar:

Such void and solitude canst realize?

Faust.

To spare such speeches, it were well!

They of the witches’ kitchen smell,

And of a time long past and gone.

To know the world have I not sought?

The empty learn’d, the empty taught?—

Spake I out plainly, as in reason bound,

Then doubly loud the paradox would sound;

By Fortune’s adverse buffets overborne,

To solitude I fled, to wilds forlorn,

And not in utter loneliness to live,

Myself at last did to the Devil give!

Mephis.

And hadst thou swum to ocean’s utmost verge,

And there the shoreless infinite beheld,

There hadst thou seen surge rolling upon surge,

Though dread of coming doom thy soul had quell’d,

Thou hadst seen something;—dolphins thou hadst seen.

Cleaving the silent sea’s pellucid green,

And flying cloud hadst seen, sun, moon and star;

Naught, in the everlasting void afar,

Wilt see, nor hear thy footfall’s sound,

Nor for thy tread find solid ground!

Faust.

Thou speakest as of mystagogues the first,

True neophytes who gulled—only revers’d:

I to vacuity by thee am sent,

That art as well as strength I may augment;

Thou wouldest, like the cat, make use of me,

The chestnuts from the fire to snatch for thee.

We’ll fathom it! come on, nor look behind!

In this thy naught, the All I hope to find.

Mephis.

Before we part, thy bearing I commend;

I see, the Devil thou dost comprehend.

Here, take this key!

Faust.

That little thing!

Mephis.

First hold it fast, not lightly valuing!

Faust.

It waxes in my hand! It flashes, glows!

Mephis.

Soon shalt thou mark what virtue it bestows.

The key will scent the very place you need;

Follow, thee to the Mothers it will lead.

Faust.

(Shuddering.) The Mothers! Like a blow it strikes mine ear!

What is this word, it troubles me to hear?

Mephis.

So narrow-minded, scar’d by each new word!

Wilt only hear, what hast already heard?

Inur’d to marvels, thee let naught astound;

Be not disturb’d, how strange soe’er the sound!

Faust.

My weal I seek not in torpidity;

Humanity’s best part in awe doth lie:

Howe’er the world the sentiment disown,

Once seiz’d—we deeply feel the vast, the unknown.

Mephis.

Sink then! Arise! This also I might say:—

’Tis all the same. Escaping from the real,

Seek thou the boundless realm of the ideal.

Delight thyself in forms long pass’d away!

The train, like cloud-procession, glides along;

Swing thou the key, hold off the shadowy throng!

Faust.

(Inspired.) Good! firmly grasping it, new strength is mine,

My breast expands! Now for the great design!

Mephis.

A glowing tripod teaches thee thou hast

The deep attain’d, the lowest deep, at last:

There, by its light the Mothers thou wilt see;

Some sit, while others, as the case may be,

Or stand, or walk: formation, transformation,

Of mind etern, eternal recreation!

While forms of being round them hover; thee

Behold they not, phantoms alone they see.

Take courage, for the danger is not slight.

Straight to the tripod press thou on, be brave,

And touch it with the key—

[Faust,with the key, assumes an attitude of determined authority.

Mephis.

(Observing him.) So, that is right!

It cleaves to thee, it follows like a slave;

Calmly dost mount, fortune doth thee upbear,

Back art thou with it, ere they are aware.

And hither hast thou brought it: by its might,

Hero mayst call, and heroine from night;

The first to venture in such enterprise;

’Tis done—with thee the bold achievement lies;

And then by spells, to sorcery allow’d,

To gods shall be transform’d the incensecloud.

Faust.

And now what next?

Mephis.

Downward thy being strain.

Stamping descend, stamping thou’lt rise again.

[Fauststamps and sinks.

In his behoof if worketh but the key!

Whether he will return, I’m fain to see.

Hall.(Brilliantly lighted.)

Emperorand Princes: The Court in movement.

Chamberlain.

(ToMephistopheles.)

You’re still our debtors for the spirit-show;

To work! The Emperor doth impatient grow.

Steward.

His Highness even now hath question’d me;

Delay not, nor affront his Majesty!

Mephis.

My comrade’s for that very purpose gone;

How to commence he knows; he labors on,

Secluded in his study, calm and still,

With mind intensely strung; for who the prize,

Ideal beauty, would evoke at will,

Needs highest art, the magic of the wise.

Steward.

To us it matters not what arts you need;

The Emperor wills that ye forthwith proceed.

A Blonde.

(ToMephistopheles.)

One word, good sir! My visage now is clear—

It is not so when baleful summer’s here:

Then sprout a hundred freckles, brown and red,

Which, to my grief, the white skin overspread.

A cure!

Mephis.

’Tis pity, face so fair to see,

In May like panther’s cub should mottled be!

Take spawn of frog, and tongue of toad, the twain

Under the fullest moon distil with care;

Lay on the mixture, when the moon doth wane—

The spring arrives, no blemishes are there.

Brunette.

To fawn upon you, how the crowds advance;

A remedy I ask! A frozen foot

Hinders me sorely when I walk or dance;

Awkward my movement e’en when I salute.

Mephis.

A single tread allow me with my foot!

Brunette.

Well, betwixt lovers that might come to pass—

Mephis.

A deeper meaning, child, my footprint has:

Like unto like, in sickness is the rede;

Foot healeth foot; with every limb ’tis so.

Draw near! Give heed! My tread return not.

Brunette.

(Screaming.) Woe!

Ah, woe! It burns! A hard tread that indeed,

Like horse’s hoof!

Mephis.

Receive thy cure as meed.

Now mayst thou dance at pleasure; and salute,

Beneath the festal board, thy lover’s foot.

Lady.

(Pressing forward.) Make way for me, too grievous is my smart,

Seething, it rankles in my deepest heart:

Bliss in my looks he sought till yesterday—

With her he talks, and turns from me away!

Mephis.

The case is grave, but this my lore receive:

Thou to his side must stealthily make way;

Take thou this coal, a mark upon his sleeve,

His cloak, or shoulder make, as happen may—

His heart repentant will be thine once more;

The coal thou straight must swallow; after it,

No water near thy lip, no wine, permit—

This very night he’ll sigh before thy door.

Lady.

It is not poison?

Mephis.

(Offended.) Honor where ’tis due!

You for such coal much ground must wander o’er;

It cometh from a pyre, that we of yore

More fiercely stirr’d than now we do.

Page.

I love; as still unripe they scorn my youth!

Mephis.

(Aside.) I know not whom to listen to, in sooth.

(To thePage.)

Not on the youngest set your happiness;

Those more in years your merits will confess.

[Others press up to him.

Others are coming! What a fearful rout!

Myself with truth I must at last help out—

The sorriest shift! Great is the need! Ah me!

O Mothers, Mothers! Only Faust set free.

[Looking round.

The lights are burning dimly in the hall;

At once the court is moving, one and all;

Advancing in due order them I see,

Through long arcade and distant gallery;

Now in the old Baronial hall, the train

Assemble, them it scarcely can contain;

Its ample walls rare tapestries enrich,

While armor decks each corner, every niche;

Here magic-words, methinks, are needed not,

Ghosts, of their own accord, would haunt this spot.

Baronial Hall.(Dimly illuminated.)

Emperorand Court have entered.

Herald.

Mine ancient usage, to announce the play,

The spirits’ secret working mars; in vain

The surging tumult to ourselves, to-day,

Would we, on reasonable grounds, explain.

Seats are arrang’d, ready is every chair;

The Emperor sits before the wall, and there,

On tapestry in comfort may behold

The battles of the glorious days of old.

All now are seated; prince and court around;

While crowded benches fill the hinder ground;

Your lovers too, in these dark hours, will find,

Beside their sweethearts, places to their mind.

So now we’re seated, ready for the play;

The phantoms may appear, without delay!

[Trumpets.

Astrologer.

Now let the drama, ’tis the Sire’s command,

Begin forthwith its course! ye walls expand!

Naught hinders; magic yields what we require.

The curtains vanish, as uproll’d by fire;

The wall splits open, backward it doth wend;

An ample theatre appears to rise;

A mystic lustre gleams before our eyes;

And I to the proscenium ascend.

Mephis.

(Emerging from the prompter’s box.) I hope for general favor in your eyes,

The Devil’s rhetoric in prompting lies!

(To theAstrologer.)

The time dost know, in which the stars proceed,

And, like a master, wilt my whispering read.

Astrologer.

Through magic power, appears before our gaze,

Massive enough, a fane of ancient days;

Like Atlas, who of old the heavens upbare,

Columns, in goodly rows, are standing there;

They for their burden may suffice, when twain

A mighty edifice might well sustain.

Architect.

That the antique—I cannot think it right;

It as unwieldy we should designate;

The rude is noble styled, the clumsy great!

Slim shafts I love, aspiring, infinite;

The pointed zenith lifts the soul on high;

Such building us doth mostly edify.

Astrologer.

Receive with reverence stargranted hours!

By magic word enthrall’d be reason’s powers;

Here, on the other hand, let phantasy,

Noble and daring, roam more wildly free!

What boldly you desir’d, he with your eyes perceiv’d!

Impossible, and hence, by faith to be believ’d.

[Faustrises at the other side of the proscenium.

Astrologer.

In priestly vesture, crown’d, a wondrous man,

Who now achieves, what trustful he began;

A tripod with him from the gulf ascends;

With the surrounding air the incense blends;

He arms himself, the lofty work to bless:

Henceforth we naught can augur but success.

Faust.

In your name, Mothers, ye who on your throne

Dwell in the Infinite, for aye alone,

Yet sociably! Around your heads are rife

Life’s pictures, restless, yet devoid of life;

What was, there moveth, bright with lustrous sheen;

For deathless will abide what once hath been.

This ye dispense, beings of matchless might,

To day’s pavilion, to the vault of night:

Life in its gentle course doth some arrest;

Of others the bold magian goes in quest:

In rich profusion, fearless, he displays

The marvels upon which each longs to gaze.

Astrologer.

Scarcely the glowing key the censer nears,

When o’er the scene a misty shroud appears;

It creepeth in, cloudlike it onward glides,

Expands, upcurls, contracts, unites, divides.

Now recognize a spirit masterpiece:

The clouds make music; wonders never cease;

The airy tones, one knows not how, float by:

Where’er they move, there all is melody;

The pillar’d shaft, the very triglyph rings;

Yea, I believe that the whole temple sings!

The mist subsides; steps forth, in measur’d time,

From the light veil, a youth in beauty’s prime.

Silent mine office here; his name I need not show;

Who doth the gentle Paris fail to know!

First Lady.

O! In his youthful strength what lustrous grace!

Second Lady.

Fresh as a peach, and full of sap his face!

Third Lady.

The finely chisell’d, sweetly swelling lip!

Fourth Lady.

At such a beaker fain wert thou to sip?

Fifth Lady.

Though handsome, quite unpolish’d is his mien.

Sixth Lady.

A little more refin’d he might have been.

Knight.

The shepherd youth, methinks, in him I trace;

Naught of the prince or of the courtier’s grace!

Another Knight.

Half naked, fair the stripling seems to be;

But clad in armor him we first must see!

Lady.

Gently he seats himself, with easy grace.

Knight.

For you his lap were pleasant resting-place?

Another.

Lightly his arm he bendeth o’er his head.

Chamberlain.

That is not here allow’d. ’Tis under-bred!

Lady.

You gentlemen are always hard to please.

Chamberlain.

Before the Emperor to loll at ease!

Lady.

He only acts! He thinks himself alone.

Chamberlain.

The drama should be courtly near the throne.

Lady.

Gently hath sleep o’ercome the gracious youth.

Chamberlain.

He snoreth now; ’tis nature, perfect truth.

Young Lady.

(Enraptured.) What fragrance with the incense sweetly blends.

That to my inmost heart refreshment sends?

Older Lady.

A breath the soul pervades with gracious power!

From him it comes.

Oldest Lady.

Of growth it is the flower;

It like ambrosia from the youth distils,

And the whole atmosphere around him fills.

[Helenasteps forward.

Mephis.

Such then she was! She will not break my rest!

Fair, doubtless; but she is not to my taste.

Astrologer.

For me remains no further duty now,

As man of honor, this I must allow.

The fair one comes; and had I tongues of fire—

Beauty of old did many a song inspire—

Who sees her is enraptur’d; all too bless’d

Was he indeed by whom she was possess’d.

Faust.

Have I still eyes? Is beauty’s very spring,

Full gushing, to mine inmost sense reveal’d?

Most blessed gain doth my dread journey bring.

How blank to me the world, its depths unseal’d!

What is it since my priesthood’s solemn hour!

Enduring, firmly-bas’d, a precious dower!

Vanish from me of life the breathing power,

If, e’en in thought, I e’er from thee decline!—

The gracious form that raptur’d once my sight,

That in the magic mirror wak’d delight,

Was a foam-image to such charms as thine!—

’Tis thou, to whom as tribute now I bring

My passion’s depth, of every power the spring,

Love, adoration, madness, heart and soul!

Mephis.

(From the prompter’s box.)

Collect yourself, and fall not from your rôle!

Elderly Lady.

Tall and well-shap’d! Only too small the head.

Younger Lady.

Her foot! ’Tis clumsy if the truth were said.

Diplomatist.

Princesses of this kind I’ve seen; and she

From head to foot seems beautiful to me.

Courtier.

Softly she nears the sleeper, artful, shy.

Lady.

How hateful near that form of purity!

Poet.

He is illumin’d by her beauty’s sheen.

Lady.

Endymion! Luna!—’Tis the pictur’d scene!

Poet.

Quite right! The goddess downward seems to sink;

O’er him she bends, his balmy breath to drink;

A kiss!—The measure’s full!—O envied youth!

Duenna.

Before the crowd—too bold that is, in sooth!

Faust.

A fearful favor to the boy!—

Mephis.

Be still!

And let the phantom do whate’er it will.

Courtier.

She steals away, light-footed;—he awakes.

Lady.

A backward glance, just as I thought, she takes!

Courtier.

He starts! ’Tis marvellous! he’s all amaze.

Lady.

To her no marvel is what meets her gaze.

Courtier.

To him with coy reserve she turneth now.

Lady.

She takes him into tutelage, it seems;

All men in such a case are fools, I trow;

Himself to be the first, he fondly dreams!

Knight.

Let me admire! Majestically fair—

Lady.

The courtezan! ’Tis vulgar, I declare!

Page.

Now in his place to be, full fain I were!

Courtier.

Who in such net would not be gladly caught?

Lady.

From hand to hand the jewel hath been pass’d;

The very gilding is worn off at last.

Another.

From her tenth year she hath been good for naught.

Knight.

Each takes the best that Fate to him hath sent:

With this fair ruin I were well content.

Learned Man.

Her I behold, yet to confess am free,

Doubts may arise, if she the right one be.

What’s present doth into extremes betray;

Cling closely to the letter, that’s my way;

I to what’s written turn, and there I read:

How she all Troya’s graybeards charm’d indeed.

How perfectly this tallies here, I see—

I am not young, and yet she pleases me.

Astrologer.

A boy no more! A man, heroic, brave,

He claspeth her, who scarce herself can save;

With stalwart arm aloft he raises her.

Thinks he to bear her off?

Faust.

Rash fool! Beware!

Thou darest! Hearest not! Forbear I say!

Mephis.

Why thou thyself dost make the phantom-play!

Astrologer.

Only one word! From what did her befall,

“The rape of Helena,” the piece I call.

Faust.

The rape! Count I for nothing here? This key,

Do I not hold it still within my hand?

Through dreary wastes, through waves, it guided me,

Through solitudes, here to this solid land;

Here is firm footing, here the actual, where

Spirit with spirits to contend may dare,

And for itself a vast, twin-realm prepare.

Far as she was, how can she be more near?

Sav’d, she is doubly mine! I’ll dare it! Hear,

Ye Mothers, Mothers, hear, and grant my quest!

Who once hath known, without her cannot rest!

Astrologer.

What dost thou? Faustus! Faustus!—Her with might,

He seizes; fades the phantom from the sight;

Towards the youth he turneth now the key,

He touches him!—Presto! alas! Woe’s me!

[Explosion,Faustlies upon the ground.

[The phantoms vanish in the air.

Mephis.

(TakingFaustupon his shoulders.) You have it now! With fools one’s self to burden,

May to the devil prove a sorry guerdon.

(Darkness. Tumult.)

ACT II.

High-vaulted, Narrow Gothic Chamber.

(FormerlyFaust’s,unaltered.)

Mephis.

(Stepping from behind a curtain. While he raises it and looks back,Faustis seen, stretched upon an old-fashioned bed.)

Lie there, ill-starr’d one! In love’s chain,

Full hard to loose, he captive lies!

Not soon his senses will regain

Whom Helena doth paralyze.

[Looking round.

Above, around, on every side

I gaze, uninjur’d all remains:

Dimmer, methinks, appear the color’d panes,

The spiders’ webs are multiplied,

Yellow the paper, and the ink is dry;

Yet in its place each thing I find;

And here the very pen doth lie,

Wherewith himself Faust to the Devil sign’d,

Yea, quite dried up, and deeper in the bore,

The drop of blood, I lur’d from him of yore—

O’erjoy’d to own such specimen unique

Were he who objects rare is fain to seek;—

Here on its hook hangs still the old fur cloak,

Me it remindeth of that merry joke,

When to the boy I precepts gave, for truth,

Whereon, perchance, he’s feeding now, as youth.

The wish comes over me, with thee allied,

Envelop’d in thy worn and rugged folds,

Once more to swell with the professor’s pride!

How quite infallible himself he holds;

This feeling to obtain your savans know;

The devil parted with it long ago.

[He shakes the fur cloak which he has taken down; crickets, moths and chafers fly out.

Chorus of Insects.

We welcome thy coming,

• Our patron of yore!
• We’re dancing and humming,
• And know thee once more.
• Us singly, in silence,
• Hast planted, and lo!
• By thousands, O Father,
• We dance to and fro.
• The rogue hides discreetly
• The bosom within;
• We looseskins fly rather
• Forth from the fur skin.

Mephis.

O’erjoy’d I am my progeny to know!

We’re sure to reap in time, if we but sow.

I shake the old fur-mantle as before,

And here and there outflutters one or more.

Above, around, hasten, beloved elves,

In hundred thousand nooks to hide yourselves!

’Mid boxes there of bygone time,

Here in these age-embrowned scrolls,

In broken potsherds, foul with grime,

In yonder skulls’ now eyeless holes!

Amid such rotten, mouldering life,

Must foolish whims for aye be rife.

[Slips into the fur-mantle.

Come shroud my shoulders as of yore!

To-day I’m principal once more;

But useless ’tis, to bear the name:

Where are the folk to recognize my claim?

[He pulls the bell, which emits a shrill penetrating sound, at which the halls shake and the doors spring open.

Famulus.

(Tottering up the long dark passage.) What a clamor! What a quaking!

Stairs are rocking, walls are shaking:

Through the windows’ quivering sheen,

Are the stormful lightnings seen;

Springs the ceiling,—thence, below,

Lime and mortar rattling flow:

And, though bolted fast, the door

Is undone by magic power!

There, in Faust’s old fleece bedight,

Stands a giant,—dreadful sight!

At his glance, his beck, at me!

I could sink upon my knee.

Shall I fly, or shall I stay?

What will be my fate to-day!

Mephis.

Come hither, friend!—Your name is Nicodemus?

Famulus.

Most honor’d Sir, such is my name.—Oremus!

Mephis.

That we’ll omit.

Famulus.

O joy, me you do not forget.

Mephis.

I know it well: old, and a student yet;

My mossy friend, even a learned man

Still studies on, because naught else he can:

Thus a card-house each builds of medium height;

The greatest spirit fails to build it quite.

Your master, though, that title well may claim—

The noble Doctor Wagner, known to fame,

First in the learned world! ’Tis he, they say,

Who holds that world together; every day

Of wisdom he augments the store!

Who crave omniscience, evermore

In crowds upon his teaching wait;

He from the rostrum shines alone;

The keys doth like Saint Peter own,

And doth of Hell and Heaven ope the gate;

As before all he glows and sparkles,

No fame, no glory but grows dim,

Even the name of Faustus darkles!

Inventor there is none like him.

Famulus.

Pardon, most honor’d Sir, excuse me, pray—

If I presume your utterance to gainsay—

This bears not on the question any way;

A modest mind is his allotted share.

The disappearance, unexplain’d as yet,

Of the great man, his mind doth sorely fret;

Comfort from his return and health are still his prayer.

The chamber, as in Doctor Faustus’ day,

Maintains, untouch’d, its former state,

And for its ancient lord doth wait.

Venture therein I scarcely may.

What now the aspect of the stars?—

Awe-struck the very walls appear;

The door-posts quiver’d, sprang the bars—

Else you yourself could not have enter’d here.

Mephis.

Where then bestow’d himself hath he?

Lead me to him! bring him to me!

Famulus.

Alas! Too strict his prohibition

Scarce dare I, without his permission.

Months, on his mighty work intent,

Hath he, in strict seclusion spent.

Most dainty ’mong your men of books,

Like charcoal-burner now he looks,

With face begrim’d from ear to nose;

His eyes are blear’d, while fire he blows;

Thus for the crisis still he longs;

His music is the clang of tongs.

Mephis.

Admittance unto me deny?

To hasten his success, the man am I.

[ExitFamulus. Mephistophelesseats himself with a solemn air.

Scarce have I taken my post, when lo!

Stirs from behind a guest, whom well I know;

Of the most recent school, this time, is he,

And quite unbounded will his daring be.

Baccalaureus.

(Storming along the passage.) Open find I door and gate!

• • Hope at last springs up elate,
  • That the living shall no more
  • Corpse-like rot, as heretofore,
  • And, while breathing living breath,
  • Waste and moulder as in death.
• • Here partition, screen, and wall
  • Are sinking, bowing to their fall,
  • And, unless we soon retreat,
  • Wreck and ruin us will greet.
  • Me, though bold, nor soon afraid,
  • To advance shall none persuade.
• • What shall I experience next?
  • Years ago, when sore perplex’d,
  • Came I not a freshman here,
  • Full of anxious doubt and fear,
  • On these graybeards then relied,
  • By their talk was edified?
• • What from musty tomes they drew,
  • They lied to me; the things they knew
  • Believ’d they not; with falsehood rife,
  • Themselves and me they robb’d of life.
  • How?—Yonder in the murky glare,
  • There’s one still sitting in the chair—
• • Drawing near I wonder more—
  • Just as him I left of yore,
  • There he sits, in furry gown,
  • Wrapp’d in shaggy fleece, the brown!
  • Then he clever seem’d, indeed,
  • Him as yet I could not read;
  • Naught will it avail to-day;
  • So have at him, straight-away.

If Lethe’s murky flood not yet hath pass’d,

Old Sir, through your bald pate, that sideways bends,

The scholar recognize, who hither wends,

Outgrown your academic rods at last.

The same I find you, as of yore;

But I am now the same no more.

Mephis.

Glad am I that I’ve rung you here.

I priz’d you then not slightingly;

In grub and chrysalis appear

The future brilliant butterfly.

A childish pleasure then you drew

From collar, lace, and curls.—A queue

You probably have never worn?—

Now to a crop I see you shorn.

All resolute and bold your air—

But from the absolute forbear!

Baccalaureus.

We’re in the ancient place, mine ancient Sir,

But think upon time’s onward flow,

And words of double-meaning spare!

Quite otherwise we hearken now.

You fool’d the simple, honest youth;

It cost but little art in sooth,

To do what none to-day will dare.

Mephis.

If to the young the naked truth one speaks,

It pleases in no wise the yellow beaks;

But afterwards, when in their turn

On their own skin the painful truth they learn,

They think, forsooth, from their own head it came;

“The master was a fool,” they straight proclaim.

Baccalaureus.

A rogue perchance!—For where’s the teacher found

Who to our face, direct, will Truth expound?

Children to edify, each knows the way,

To add or to subtract, now grave, now gay.

Mephis.

For learning there’s in very truth a time;

For teaching, I perceive, you now are prime.

While a few suns and many moons have wan’d,

A rich experience you have doubtless gain’d!

Baccalaureus.

Experience! Froth and scum alone,

Not with the mind of equal birth!

Confess! what men have always known,

As knowledge now is nothing worth.

Mephis.

(After a pause.) I long have thought myself a fool;

Now shallow to myself I seem, and dull.

Baccalaureus.

That pleases me! Like reason that doth sound;

The first old man of sense I yet have found!

Mephis.

I sought for hidden treasures, genuine gold—

And naught but hideous ashes forth I bore!

Baccalaureus.

Confess that pate of yours, though bare and old,

Than yonder hollow skull is worth no more!

Mephis.

(Good-naturedly.) Thou know’st not, friend, how rude is thy reply.

Baccalaureus.

In German to be courteous is to lie.

Mephis.

(Still moving his wheel-chair ever nearer to the proscenium, to the pit.)

Up here I am bereft of light and air;

I perhaps shall find a refuge with you there?

Baccalaureus.

When at their worst, that men would something be,

When they are naught, presumptuous seems to me.

Man’s life is in the blood, and where, in sooth,

Pulses the blood so strongly as in youth?

That’s living blood, which with fresh vigor rife,

The newer life createth out of life.

There all is movement, something there is done;

Falleth the weak, the able presses on!

While half the world we ’neath our sway have brought,

What have ye done? Slept, nodded, dream’d and thought,

Plan after plan reject’d;—nothing won.

Age is, in sooth, a fever cold,

With frost of whims and peevish need:

When more than thirty years are told,

As good as dead one is indeed:

You it were best, methinks, betimes to slay.

Mephis.

The devil here has nothing more to say.

Baccalaureus.

Save through my will, no devil dares to be.

Mephis.

(Aside.) The devil now prepares a fall for thee!

Baccalaureus.

The noblest mission this of youth’s estate.

The world was not, till it I did create;

The radiant Sun I led from out the sea;

Her changeful course the Moon began with me;

The Day array’d herself my steps to meet,

The Earth grew green, and blossom’d me to greet;

At my command, upon you primal Night,

The starry hosts unveil’d their glorious light.

Who, beside me, the galling chains unbound,

Which cramping thought had cast your spirits round?

But I am free, as speaks my spirit-voice,

My inward light I follow, and rejoice;

Swift I advance, enraptur’d, void of fear,

Brightness before me, darkness in the rear.

[Exit.

Mephis.

Go, in thy pride, Original, thy way!—

True insight would, in truth, thy spirit grieve!

What wise or stupid thoughts can man conceive,

Unponder’d in the ages pass’d away?—

Yet we for him need no misgiving have;

Chang’d will he be, when a few years are past;

Howe’er absurdly may the must behave,

Nathless it yields a wine at last.—

(To the younger part of the audience, who do not applaud.)

Though to my words you’re somewhat cold,

Good children, me you don’t offend;

Reflect! The devil, he is old;

Grow old then, him to comprehend!

Laboratory.

After the fashion of the middle ages; cumbrous, useless apparatus, for fantastic purposes.

Wagner.

(At the furnace.) Soundeth the bell, the fearful clang

Thrills through these sooty walls; no more

Upon fulfilment waits the pang

Of hope or fear;—suspense is o’er;

The darknesses begin to clear,

Within the inmost phial glows

Radiance, like living coal, that throws,

As from a splendid carbuncle, its rays;

Athwart the gloom its lightning plays,

A pure white lustre doth appear;

O may I never lose it more!—

My God! what rattles at the door?

Mephis.

(Entering.) Welcome! As friend I enter here.

Wagner.

Hail to the star that rules the hour!

[Softly.

On breath and utterance let a ban be laid!

Soon will be consummate a work of power.

Mephis.

(In a whisper.) What is it, then?

Wagner.

A man is being made.

Mephis.

A man? and pray what loving pair

Have in your smoke-hole their abode?

Wagner.

Nay! Heaven forbid! As nonsense we declare

The ancient procreative mode;

The tender point, life’s spring, the gentle strength

That took and gave, that from within hath press’d,

And seiz’d, intent itself to manifest

The nearest first, the more remote at length,—

This from its dignity is now dethron’d!

The brute indeed may take delight therein,

But man, by whom such mighty gifts are own’d,

Must have a purer, higher origin.

[He turns to the furnace.

It flashes, see!—Now may we trustful hold,

That if, of substances a hundred-fold,

Through mixture,—for on mixture it depends—

The human substance duly we compose,

And then in a retort enclose,

And cohobate; in still repose

The work is perfect’d, our labor ends.

[Again turning to the furnace.

It forms! More clear the substance shows!

Stronger, more strong, conviction grows!

What Nature’s mystery we once did style,

That now to test, our reason tries,

And what she organiz’d erewhile,

We now are fain to crystallize.

Mephis.

Who lives, doth much experience glean;

By naught in this world will he be surpris’d;

Already in my travel-years I’ve seen,

Full many a race of mortals crystallized.

Wagner.

(Still gazing intently on the phial.)

It mounts, it glows, and doth together run,

One moment, and the work is done!

As mad, a grand design at first is view’d;

But we henceforth may laugh at fate,

And so a brain, with thinking-power imbu’d,

Henceforth your living thinker will create.

[Surveying the phial with rapture.

The glass resounds, with gracious power possess’d;

It dims, grows clear; living it needs must be!

And now in form of beauty dress’d,

A dainty mannikin I see.

What more can we desire, what more mankind?

Unveil’d is now what hidden was of late;

Give ear unto this sound, and you will find,

A voice it will become, articulate.

Homunculus.

(In the phial, toWagner.)

Now, Fatherkin, how goes it? ’Twas no jest!

Come let me to thy heart be fondly press’d—

Lest the glass break, less tight be thine embrace!

This is the property of things: the All

Scarcely suffices for the natural;

The artificial needs a bounded space.

(ToMephistopheles.)

But thou, Sir Cousin, Rogue, art thou too here?

At the right moment! Thee I thank. ’Tis clear

To us a happy fortune leadeth thee;

While I exist, still must I active be,

And to the work forthwith myself would gird;

Thou’rt skill’d the way to shorten.

Wagner.

Just one word!

I oft have been asham’d that knowledge fail’d,

When old and young with problems me assail’d.

For instance: no one yet could comprehend,

How soul and body so completely blend,

Together hold, as ne’er to part, while they

Torment each other through the livelong day.

So then—

Mephis.

Forbear! The problem solve for me,

Why man and wife so wretchedly agree?

Upon this point, my friend, thou’lt ne’er be clear;

The mannikin wants work, he’ll find it here.

Homunculus.

What’s to be done?

Mephis.

(Pointing to a side door.)

Yonder thy gifts display!

Wagner.

(Still gazing into the phial.)

A very lovely boy, I needs must say!

[The side door opens;Faustis seen stretched upon a couch.

Homunculus.

(Amazed.) Momentus!

[The phial slips fromWagner’shands, hovers overFaust,and sheds a light upon him.

Girt with beauty!—Water clear

In the thick grove; fair women, who undress;

Most lovely creatures!—grows their loveliness:

But o’er the rest one shines without a peer,

As if from heroes, nay from gods she came;

In the transparent sheen her foot she laves;

The tender life-fire of her noble frame

She cools in yielding crystal of the waves.—

Of swiftly moving wings what sudden noise?

What plash, what plunge the liquid glass destroys?

The maidens fly, alarmed; alone, the queen,

With calm composure gazes on the scene:

With womanly and proud delight, she sees

The prince of swans press fondly to her knees,

Persistent, tame; familiar now he grows.—

But suddenly upfloats a misty shroud,

And with thick-woven veil doth overcloud

The loveliest of all lovely shows.

Mephis.

Why thou in sooth canst everything relate!

Small as thou art, as phantast thou art great.

I can see nothing—

Homunculus.

I believe it. Thou,

Bred in the north, in the dark ages, how,

In whirl of priesthood and knight-errantry,

Have for such sights, thy vision free!

In darkness only thou’rt at home.

[Looking round.

Ye brown, repulsive blocks of stone,

Arch-pointed, low, with mould o’ergrown!

Should he awake, new care were bred,

He on the spot would straight be dead.

Wood-fountains, swans, fair nymphs undress’d,

Such was his dream, presageful, rare;

In place like this how could he rest,

Which I, of easy mood, scarce bear!

Away with him!

Mephis.

I like your plan, proceed!

Homunculus.

Command the warrior to the fight,

The maiden to the dancers lead!

They’re satisfied, and all is right.

E’en now a thought occurs, most bright;

’Tis classical Walpurgis-night—

Most fortunate! It suits his bent,

So bring him straightway to his element!

Mephis.

Of such I ne’er have heard, I frankly own.

Homunculus.

Upon your ear indeed how should it fall?

Only romantic ghosts to you are known;

Your genuine ghost is also classical.

Mephis.

But whitherward to travel are we fain?

Your antique colleagues are against my grain.

Homunculus.

North-westward, Satan, lies thy pleasure-ground;

But, this time, we to the south-east are bound.—

An ample vale Peneios floweth through,

’Mid bush and tree its curving shores it laves;

The plain extendeth to the mountain caves,

Above it lies Pharsalus, old and new.

Mephis.

Alas! Forbear! Forever be eschew’d

Those wars of tyranny and servitude!

I’m bored with them: for they, as soon as done,

Straight recommence; and no one calls to mind

That he in sooth is only play’d upon

By Asmodeus, who still lurks behind.

They battle, so ’tis said, for freedom’s rights—

More clearly seen, ’tis slave ’gainst slave who fights.

Homunculus.

Leave we to men their nature, quarrel-prone!

Each must defend himself, as best he can,

From boyhood up; so he becomes a man.

The question here is, how to cure this one?

[Pointing toFaust.

Hast thou a means, here let it tested be;

Canst thou do naught, then leave the task to me.

Mephis.

Full many a Brocken-piece I might essay,

But bolts of heathendom foreclose the way.

The Grecian folk were ne’er worth much, ’tis true,

Yet with the senses’ play they dazzle you;

To cheerful sins the human heart they lure,

While ours are reckon’d gloomy and obscure.

And now what next?

Homunculus.

Of old thou wert not shy;

And if I name Thessalian witches,—why,

I something shall have said,—of that I’m sure.

Mephis.

(Lustfully.) Thessalian witches—well! the people they

Concerning whom I often have inquir’d.

Night after night, indeed, with them to stay,

That were an ordeal not to be desir’d;

But for a trial trip—

Homunculus.

The mantle there

Reach hither, wrap it round the knight!

As heretofore, the rag will bear

Both him and thee; the way I’ll light.

Wagner.

(Alarmed.) And I?

Homunculus.

At home thou wilt remain:

Thee most important work doth there detain;

The ancient scrolls unfolding, cull

Life’s elements, as taught by rule;

And each with other then combine with care;

Upon the What, more on the How, reflect!

Meanwhile as through a piece of world I fare,

I may the dot upon the “I” detect.

Then will the mighty aim accomplish’d be;

Such high reward deserves such striving;—wealth,

Honor and glory, lengthen’d life, sound health,

Knowledge withal and virtue—possibly.

Farewell!

Wagner.

Farewell! That grieves my heart full sore!

I fear indeed I ne’er shall see thee more.

Mephis.

Now to Peneios forth we wend!

We must not slight our cousin’s aid.

(To the spectators.)

At last, in sooth, we all depend

On creatures, we ourselves have made.

CLASSICAL WALPURGISNIGHT.

Pharsalian Fields.

Darkness.

Erichtho.*

To this night’s ghastly fête, as oftentimes before,

I hither come, Erichtho, I, the gloomy one;

Not so atrocious, as the sorry poet-throng

Me in excess have slander’d. . . They no measure know

In censure and applause. . . O’erwhiten’d seems to me,

With waves of dusky tents, the valley, far and wide,

Night-phantom of that dire and most appalling night.

How often ’tis repeated! Will for evermore

Repeat itself for aye. . . empire none gladly yields

To others; none to him, by force who master’d it

And forceful reigns. For each, his inmost self to rule

How impotent soe’er, ruleth right joyously

His neighbor’s will, as prompts his own imperious mind. . . .

Nathless a great example here was battled through;

Here force ’gainst force more potent takes its stand,

Freedom’s fair chaplet breaks, with thousand blossoms rife,

The stubborn laurel bends around the victor’s brow.

Of greatness’ budding-day here Pompey dream’d; and there,

Watching the wavering balance, Cæsar wakeful lay!

Strength they shall measure. Knows the world who here prevail’d.

Brightly the watch-fires burn, diffusing ruddy flames;

Reflex of blood, once spill’d, does from the soil exhale,

And by the night’s most rare and wondrous splendor lur’d,

Hither the legions throng of Hellas’ mythic lore.

Round every fire dim shapes, phantoms of ancient days,

Flit wavering to and fro, or there recline at ease. . .

The moon, not fully orb’d, of clearest light serene,

Uprising, lustre mild diffuses all around.

Vanish the spectral tents, the fires are burning blue.

But lo! above my head, what sudden meteor sails!

It shines, and doth illume a ball corporeal.

I snuff the scent of life. Me it beseemeth not

The living to approach, to whom I noxious am;

That brings me ill-repute, and nothing profits me.

Already it sinks down. With caution I retire.

[Withdraws.

The Aerial Travellers above.

Homunculus.

• O’er the horror weird and blazing,
• Wing once more your circling flight;
• Down on vale and hollow gazing,
• All phantasmal is the sight.

Mephis.

• Hideous ghosts, as through the casement
• Old, ’mid northern waste and gloom,
• I behold,—without amazement,—
• Here as there I am at home!

Homunculus.

• Swiftly, there, before us striding,
• Mark yon tall, retreating shade!

Mephis.

• Seeing us through ether gliding,
• Troubled seems she, and afraid.

Homunculus.

• Let her stride! Set down thy burden,—
• Him, thy Knight;—the while I speak,
• Life to him returns, the guerdon,
• He in fable-land doth seek.

Faust.

(Touching the ground.) Where is she?

Homunculus.

That I cannot say,

But here perchance inquire for her you may.

Till breaks the dawn, with speed, do thou,

From fire to fire, still seeking, wend;

He nothing more need fear, I trow,

Who, to the Mothers, ventur’d to descend.

Mephis.

My part to play, I also claim;

And for our weal naught better know,

Than that, forthwith, from flame to flame,

Seeking his own adventures each should go.

Then us once more to re-unite,

Show, little friend, thy sounding light!

Homunculus.

Thus shall it sound, thus glitter too!

[The glass rings, and emits a powerful light.

And now away to marvels new!

Faust.

(Alone.) Where is she?—Now no further question make! . . .

If this were not the sod, her form that bare,

This not the wave that brake to welcome her,

Yet ’tis the air, that once her language spake!

Here! through a wonder, here on Grecian land!

I felt at once the soil whereon I stand:

As me, the sleeper, a new spirit fired,

An Antæus in heart, I rise inspir’d.

Assembled here objects most strange I find.

Searching, through this flame-labyrinth I’ll wind.

[He retires.

Mephis.

(Prying around.) As I these little fires still wander through,

I find myself a stranger everywhere;

Quite naked most, some shirted here and there:

The Sphinxes shameless, and the Griffins too,

And winged things, with tresses, hurrying past,

Before, behind, within mine eye are glass’d . . .

At heart indecent are we, truth to speak,

Yet all too life-like find I the Antique;

It by the modern mind must be controll’d,

And overgloss’d, in fashions manifold. . . .

A crew repulsive! Yet, a stranger guest,

In courteous phrase be my salute express’d. . . .

All hail! ye beauteous ladies, graybeards wise!

Griffin.

(Snarling.) Not Graybeards—Griffins! It the temper tries

To hear one’s self styled gray. In every word

Some echo of its origin is heard:

Grim, grievous, grizzl’d, grimy, graveyards, gray,

In etymology accord, and they

Still put us out of tune.

Mephis.

Yet all the same,

The “Gri” contents you in your honor’d name.

Griffin.

(As above.) Of course! For the alliance prov’d may be,

Oft blam’d indeed, but prais’d more frequently.

Let each one gripe at beauty, empire, gold,

Fortune still aids the Griper if he’s bold.

Ants.

(Of the colossal kind.) Of gold ye speak. Thereof we much had stor’d,

And pil’d in rocks and caves our secret hoard;

The Arimaspians found it, bore it off—

So far away that now at us they scoff.

Griffin.

We’ll bring them straightway to confession.

Arimaspian.

Not on this night of jubilee!

Ere morning, all will squander’d be;

For this time we retain possession.

Mephis.

(Who has seated himself between the Sphinxes.) How soon, well-pleas’d, I grow familiar here!

I understand them, man by man.

Sphinx.

Our spirit-tones into your ear

We breathe, embody them you can.

Until we know thee better, tell thy name.

Mephis.

Full many a title I ’mong men may claim.

Are Britons here? They travel far to trace

Renowned battlefields, and waterfalls,

Old musty classic sites, and ruin’d walls.

A worthy goal for them this very place;

Of me their ancient plays would testify;

I there was seen as Old Iniquity.

Sphinx.

How came they upon that?

Mephis.

I know not.

Sphinx.

That may be.

To read the starry volume hast thou power?

What sayest to the aspect of the hour?

Mephis.

(Looking up.) Star shooteth after star, bright the shorn moon doth shine,

And I’m content this cozy place within;

I warm myself against thy lion’s skin.

Aloft to climb were hurtful, I opine.

Propose some riddles, some charades!—Begin!

Sphinx.

Thyself declare, a riddle that indeed.

Only essay thine inmost self to read:

“Needful to pious, as to bad men found;

Armor to those, ascetic fence to test,

Comrade to these, in every desperate quest.

And both alike to Zeus, a merry jest.”

First Griffin.

(Snarling.) I like him not!

Second Griffin.

(Snarling more loudly.)

What wants he here?

Both.

The brute belongs not to this sphere!

Mephis.

(Brutally.) Thou thinkest, maybe, that the stranger’s nail,

To scratch with, like thy talons, can’t avail?

Let’s try, forthwith!

Sphinx.

(Mildly.) Here thou mayst ever dwell;

But from our midst thyself wilt soon expel.

In thine own land art wont thyself to please.

If I mistake not, here thou’rt ill at ease.

Mephis.

Enticing art thou, when above descried;

But with the beast below, I’m horrified.

Sphinx.

Thou false one, thou shalt bitterly repent:

These paws are sound: but as for thee,

With thy shrunk hoof thou’rt not content,

It seems, in our society.

Sirens.

(Preluding above.)

Mephis.

What birds are those, on poplar bough

Swinging, the river banks along?

Sphinx.

Beware! the noblest have ere now

Been master’d by the Sirens’ song!

Sirens.

• Ah! Misguided one, why linger,
• ’Mid these hideous wonders dwelling!
• Cometh each melodious singer;—
• Hark! our choral notes are swelling,
• As beseems the Siren-throng.

Sphinxes.

(Mocking them in the same melody.)

• Force them downward, hither faring;
• ’Mid the boughs themselves concealing,
• They to seize you are preparing:
• Ugly falcon-claws revealing,
• If ye hearken to their song.

Sirens.

• Envy, Hate, avaunt ye! Listen!
• All the brightest joys that glisten,
• ’Neath the sky, assemble we!
• Now with joy in every feature,
• Hail we gladly every creature,
• On the earth or in the sea!

Mephis.

Dainty novelties,—there ring

From the throat, and from the string

Tones that sweetly interweave.

Trills on me away are thrown;

Tickle they mine ear alone,

But untouch’d my heart they leave.

Sphinxes.

Speak not of hearts, for, I believe,

A leathern wallet in its place,

Shrivell’d, would better suit thy face.

Faust.

(Entering.) The spectacle contents me;—wondrous creatures,

Ill-favor’d, yet with large and stalwart features.

E’en now, I augur an auspicious fate;

Whither doth me that earnest glance translate?

[Pointing to theSphinxes.

Once before such took Œdipus his stand;

[Pointing to theSirens.

Writhed before such Ulyss in hempen band?

[Pointing to theAnts.

By such the mightiest treasure was upstor’d.

[Pointing to theGriffins.

With true and faithful watch, these kept the hoard.

I feel new life my being penetrate;

Great are the forms, the memories are great!

Mephis.

Once thou such shapes had scouted, now

Thou seemest friendly to their kind;

E’en monsters welcome are, I trow,

To him who would the lov’d one find.

Faust.

(To theSphinxes.) Ye women shapes, straight must ye answer me:

Hath one of you chanc’d Helena to see?

Sphinx.

We reach not to her day; the last was slain

By Hercules; some tidings thou mayst gain

From Chiron, canst thou him detain.

Round on this ghostly night he doth career;

If he will answer thee, thy goal is near.

Sirens.

Thou, for certain, shalt not fail! . . .

• When Ulysses, with us whiling,
• Sped not forward, unreviling,
• He hath told us many a tale.
• All to thee we would confide,
• If ’midst Ocean’s purple tide,
• To our seats thou wouldst repair.

Sphinx.

Noble one, their guile beware!

As Ulysses to the mast,—

Thee let our good counsel bind.

Canst thou noble Chiron find,

Thy desire wilt gain at last.

[ExitFaust.

Mephis.

(Peevishly.) What croaks, on pinions rushing by?

So swiftly they elude the eye,

In single file they hurrying fly;

The hunter they would tire, I ween.

Sphinx.

Like storm of wintry tempest, these,

Scarce reach Alcides’ arrows keen—

They are the swift Stymphalides;

Their croaking too is kindly meant,

With foot of goose and vulture beak;

To mingle in our sphere they seek,

Their cousinship to prove intent.

Mephis.

(Scared.) There whiz some other forms of ill—

Sphinx.

For fear of these you need not quake:

These are the heads of the Lernæan snake,

Shorn from the trunk, and think they’re something still.

But say what meaneth this distress?

This troubled air, this restlessness?

Where would you go? Be off, I say!

The group, that yonder meets mine eye,

Leads you to turn your neck awry.

Be not constrain’d! Begone! Away!

And greet full many a visage fair!

The Lamiæ, wantons sly, are there,

With forehead bold, and winning smile,

As they the Satyr-race beguile:

With them the goat’s foot all may dare.

Mephis.

You’ll stay, that I may find you here again.

Sphinx.

Yea! mingle with the airy train!

From Egypt we the custom own,

That each a thousand years should keep her throne.

And to our place, if due respect ye pay,

We rule the lunar, rule the solar day.

• We, the Pyramids before,
• Sit for judgment of the nations,
• War and peace and inundations—
• Change our features never more.

Peneios.

Surrounded by waters andNymphs.

Peneios.

• Sedgy whispers, gently flow;
• Sister reeds breathe faint and low;
• Willows lightly rustle ye,
• Lisp each trembling poplar-tree,
• To my interrupted dream!
• Wakens me a tempest drear;
• From my rest a trembling fear
• Scares me, ’neath my flowing stream.

Faust.

(Approaching the stream.)

• By mine ear I must believe,
• Where these arbors interweave
• Bush and bough, there breathes around,
• As of human voice the sound;
• Prattling seems each wave to play,
• And the breeze keeps holiday.

Nymphs.

(ToFaust.)

• Oh, best were it for thee,
• Way-weary and sore,
• In coolness reclining,
• Thy limbs to restore;—
• The rest thus enjoying
• That from thee doth flee;
• We rustle, we murmur,
• We whisper to thee!

Faust.

Yes, I’m awake! Let them have sway,

These peerless shapes, as in their play

Follows mine eye, in eager quest.

How strange the feeling! What are these?

Dreams are they? Are they memories?

Already once wert thou so bless’d.

Athwart thick-woven copse and bush

Still waters glide;—they do not rush,

Scarcely they rustle as they flow:

From every side their currents bright

A hundred crystal springs unite,

And form a sloping bath below.

Young nymphs, whose limbs of graceful mould,

The gazer’s raptur’d eyes behold,

Are in the liquid mirror glass’d!

Bathing with joyance all-pervading,

Now boldly swimming, shyly wading,

With shout and water-fight at last.

Contented might I be with these,

Mine eye be charm’d with what it sees;

Yet to yon covert’s leafy screen

My yearning glance doth forward press,

The verdant wealth of whose recess

Shrouds from my gaze the lofty queen.

Most wonderful! Swans now draw near;

Forth from the bays their course they steer,

Oaring with majestic grace;

Floating, tenderly allied,

But with self-complacent pride,

Head and beak they move apace!

But one seems before the rest,

Joyfully the wave to breast,

artist: franz simm.

FAUST. SECOND PART.

faust mounted on chiron.

Sailing swift, without a peer;

Swells his plumage, wave on wave,

That the answering flood doth lave;—

He the hallow’d spot doth near. . . .

Now the others swim together,

To and fro, with shining feather;

Soon in splendid strife, they scare

All the timid maids away;

That, from duty swerving, they

For themselves alone may care.

Nymphs.

• Sisters, hearken, lay your ear
• To the water’s grassy bound!
• Ringeth, if I rightly hear,
• As of horse’s hoof the sound.
• Would I knew, who on this night,
• Message bears in rapid flight.

Faust.

As it seems, the earth indeed

Echoes ’neath a hurrying steed.

• Yonder turns my glance!
• Can such blessed chance
• Wait upon me here?
• Marvel without peer!

Hither a rider swift doth scour—

Endow’d with spirit and with power—

Borne by a snow-white steed is he. . . .

I err not, him I seek is found—

Of Philyra the son renown’d!—

Halt! Chiron! Halt! I’d speak with thee. . . .

Chiron.

How now! what would’st thou?

Faust.

Thy course arrest!

Chiron.

I pause not.

Faust.

Take me with thee; grant my quest!

Chiron.

Mount! So I can inquire, as on we fare,

Whither art bound? Thou standest on the banks;

Prepar’d I am, thee through the stream to bear.

Faust.

(Mounting.) Where’er thou wilt. Have evermore my thanks. . . .

The mighty man, the pedagogue of old

Whose fame it was, a hero-race to mould:

The noble Argonauts, with all their peers,

Who form’d the poet’s world, in bygone years—

Chiron.

That pass we over! Pallas’ self indeed

As Mentor is not honor’d; to my thought,

All, in the end, in their own way proceed,

As though, in sooth, they never had been taught.

Faust.

The leech who names each plant, who knows

All roots, e’en that which deepest grows,

Wounds who assuageth, sickness who doth chase,

In mind and body’s strength I here embrace—

Chiron.

Were hero wounded on the field,

Counsel and aid I could impart;

But, in the end, to priests I yield,

And women-herbalists my healing art.

Faust.

In thee the truly great man speaks,

To words of praise who stops his ears;

Who acts, while privacy he seeks,

As were he one of many peers.

Chiron.

Well skill’d thou seemest, to beguile

People and prince with glozing wile.

Faust.

At least by thee ’twill be confess’d,—

The greatest of thy time hast seen, the best;

Hast with the noblest vied, in earnest strife,

And liv’d of demigods the arduous life!

But ’mong those figures of heroic mould,

In virtue whom pre-eminent didst hold?

Chiron.

In the high circle of the Argonauts,

Each valiant was in fashion of his own,

And, by the virtue which inspir’d his thoughts,

Where others fail’d, he could suffice alone;

The Dioscuri ever did prevail

Where youthful bloom and beauty turn’d the scale;

Resolve, prompt deeds for others’ welfare, these

The portion fair of the Boreades;

Reflective, wary, strong, in council wise,

So Jason lorded, dear to woman’s eyes.

Then Orpheus, tender, contemplative still;—

Smote he the lyre, all own’d his wondrous skill.

Lynceus, through rocks and shoals, who, keen of sight,

Guided the holy ship, by day and night.

In fellowship is danger fronted best,

Where one achieves, extoll’d by all the rest.

Faust.

Of Hercules to me wilt naught impart?

Chiron.

Alas! wake not the longing in my heart. . . .

Never had Phœbus met my gaze,

Ares, or Hermes,—such their name;

When, as divine what all men praise

Before my raptured vision came!

A monarch born, in youth array’d

With glorious beauty; homage due

He to his elder brother paid,

And to the loveliest women too;

His second bears not Mother Earth,

Nor Hebe leads to heaven again;

Song strives in vain to tell his worth,

Tortur’d is marble too, in vain!

Faust.

To give such form to mortal ken

The sculptor’s boasted power is weak.

The fairest hast portray’d of men,

Now of the loveliest woman speak!

Chiron.

What! Woman’s beauty! Empty phrase,

Too oft an image void of life;

The being only can I praise,

Joy-giving and with gladness rife.

For Beauty in herself is bless’d;

Grace makes resistless, where possess’d,

Like Helena, whom once I bare.

Faust.

Her thou hast borne?

Chiron.

Yea! On this back.

Faust.

Was I not ’mazed enough? Alack!

And now such seat must bless me!

Chiron.

By my hair

Me hath she grasp’d, as thou dost now.

Faust.

I lose myself! Oh, tell me, how?

She is in truth my sole desire!

Her, whence and whither didst thou bear?

Chiron.

Easy to tell what you require.

Their little sister, then the robbers’ prey,

The Dioscuri had redeem’d; but they,—

The ravishers, not wont to be subdu’d,

Took courage, and with stormful rage pursu’d;

The brothers, with their sister, urg’d their way

Towards the marsh, that near Eleusis lay:

The brothers waded; plashing, over it I swam;

Then off she sprang, and fondly press’d

My mane, all dripping; self-possess’d,

She sooth’d and thank’d, with sweet reserve and coy!

How charming was she! Young, of eld the joy!

Faust.

Just seven years old. . . .

Chiron.

The philologues, I see,

As they themselves deceiv’d, so have they thee.

Unique, in sooth, your mythologic dame:

After his pleasure her the poet shows;

Forever young, old age she never knows;

Her figure, love-inspiring, aye the same;

Ravish’d when young, courted when youth is flown—

Enough, no bonds of time the poets own.

Faust.

So let her also by no time be bound!

At Pheræ by Achilles she was found

Beyond time’s limits—happiness how rare!

In spite of destiny, love triumph’d there;

And should I not, with powerful longing rife,

Draw forth that matchless figure into life,

The deathless being, born of gods the peer,

Tender as great, sublime yet ever dear?

Thou saw’st her once, whom I to-day have seen,

Charming as fair, fair as desir’d, I ween!

Enthrall’d is my whole being, heart and brain;

I cease to live, unless I her obtain!

Chiron.

Stranger! Thou art enraptur’d, as men deem;

Yet among spirits, brain-struck thou dost seem.

’Tis well this madness hath assail’d thee here,

Since, only for some moments, every year,

My wont it is to Manto to repair;

She, Æsculapius’ child, in silent prayer

Implores her sire, who honor thus would gain,

Now to illumine the physicians’ brain,

That from rash death-strokes they henceforth refrain—

To me the dearest of the Sibyl’s guild,

Not wildly mov’d, with helpful kindness fill’d;

After a brief delay, thy perfect cure,

Through power of simples, can her art secure.

Faust.

But cured I would not be! My mind is strong!

Then were I abject like the vulgar throng!

Chiron.

Scorn not the healing of the noble fount.

We now are at the place; with speed, dismount.

Faust.

Whither, upon this night, with horror fraught,

Me, through the pebbly stream, to land hast brought?

Chiron.

Here Rome and Hellas madly spurn’d in fight,

(Olympus left, Peneios to the right,)

The mightiest realm that e’er in sand was lost;

The monarch flies, triumphs the burgher host.

Look up! Here stands, significantly near,

The fane eternal, bath’d in moonlight clear.

Manto.

(Dreaming within.)

• Horse-hoofs shake the air,
• Rings the sacred stair,
• Demigods draw near.

Chiron.

Right! Open but thine eyes! I’m here!

Manto.

(Awaking.) Welcome! Thou hast not fail’d, I see.

Chiron.

Still stands thy temple-home for thee!

Manto.

Unwearied roam’st thou far and wide?

Chiron.

In quiet dost thou aye abide,

While I in ceaseless change delight?

Manto.

I wait, time circles me.—This wight?

Chiron.

Him hath this ill-reputed night

Caught in its whirl, and hither brought.

Helen, with mind and sense distraught,

Helen, he for himself would win,

But how and where he knows not to begin;

Worthy is he thy healing art to prove.

Manto.

Who the impossible desires, I love.

[Chironis already far away.

Enter, bold man, be joy thy meed!

This gloomy path to Proserpine doth lead.

She at Olympus’ hollow foot

Doth lurk for unallow’d salute.

In bygone time I Orpheus smuggled here;

Do thou fare better! Forward! Do not fear!

[They descend.

The Upper Peneios, as before.

Sirens.

Plunge into Peneios’ flood!

There beseems to swim rejoicing,

Song on song in chorus voicing,

For the unhallow’d people’s good.

Without water health is none!

In bright bands to the Ægean,

Speed we now with sounding pæan;

Every joy will then be won.

[Earthquake.

Back the foaming wave is rushing,

In its bed it flows no more;

Quakes the earth, the floods are gushing,

Bursting smokes the pebbly shore.

Let us fly! Come, every one!

Bodes this marvel good to none.

Hence! each noble, joyous guest,

Seaward to our gladsome fest,

Where the wavelets’ glittering band

Lightly swelling, lave the strand;

There where Luna, mirror’d true,

Moistens us with holy dew!

There is life’s unfetter’d motion—

Here an earthquake’s dire commotion!

Hence! Ye wise ones, fly apace!

Horror reigneth in this place.

Seismos.

(Bellowing and blustering in the depths.) Once more heave with might and main,

With the shoulders bravely strain:

So the upper world we gain,

Where to us must all things bend!

Sphinx.

What a most unpleasant quaking,

Hideous storm-blast, awe-awaking!

What a heaving, what a throe,

Surging, swaying, to and fro!

Horror not to be endur’d!

But our post we’ll not forsake,

Though all Hell were loose to break.

Now uprears itself a dome,

Wonderful. With age long hoar,

He it is who built of yore

Delos’ isle amid the foam,

Heaving it from out the sea,

For her, a mother soon to be;