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.

SCENE IV.—

The Same.

Eugenielaid apparently dead on woven boughs of pine.

Duke. Surgeon. Attendants.

Duke.

(To theSurgeon.) Oh, if thy art and skill have any power,

Experienc’d sir, to whom our monarch’s life,

A priceless treasure, is entrusted, let

Her bright eyes once more open to the day,

That hope may shine upon me in her glance,

That from the depths of grief I may be sav’d,

If only for a fleeting moment now.

And then if nothing more, if thou canst keep her

Only a fleeting moment for me, then,

Oh, let me haste and pass away before her,

That in the very article of death

I still may say, consol’d, “My daughter lives.”

King.

Pray, leave us, uncle! Let me undertake

The faithful service of a father’s love.

This worthy man will nothing leave undone;

As though myself lay wounded sore, he will—

Doubt not—exert his skill upon thy daughter.

Duke.

She moves!

King.

Art thou assur’d of it?

Duke.

She moves!

Her eyes are open wide; she glances round!

She lives! She lives!

King.

(Stepping back a little.) Redouble your exertions!

Duke.

She lives! She lives! Again the light of day

Her eyes behold. Yes! soon she’ll recognize

Her loving father and her friends once more!

My darling child, gaze not so wild around

As though uncertain: towards me turn thy face,

Oh, turn thy face upon thy father first.

Dost thou not know me? Let thy father’s voice

Be first to reach thy ear, as thou returnest

From gloomy shades of everlasting night!

Eugenie.

(Who little by little has returned to consciousness and sits up.) Where am I? What has happen’d to me?

Duke.

First,

Oh, speak to me! Dost thou not know me?

Eugenie.

Father!

Duke.

Yes, ’tis thy father whom with these sweet tones

Thou savest from the arms of grim despair!

Eugenie.

Who brought me here among these trees?

Duke.

(To whom the surgeon has handed a white handkerchief.) Be calm,

My daughter! Take this strengthening draught,

Take it with confidence, with quiet soul.

Eugenie.

(Takes the handkerchief from her father as he holds it in his hands, and buries her face in it; then suddenly gets to her feet, taking the handkerchief from her face.)

There! I’m myself again! Now I remember!

On yonder height I rein’d my horse and dar’d

Ride down, sheer down the rocky side. Forgive me—

I stumbled, did I not? Canst thou forgive me?

They took me up for dead? My darling father!

And canst thou ever love thy child again,

Who caus’d such bitter anguish to thy heart?

Duke.

I thought I knew how precious was the treasure

God granted when he gave me thee, my daughter!

But now the loss I fear’d has caused my gain

To rise to estimation infinite.

King.

(Who till now has remained in the background conversing with theSurgeonand theCount—to the others.)

Let all withdraw! I wish to speak with them.