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.

ACT II.

SCENE I.—

Eugenie’sapartment in Gothic style.

Governess. Secretary.

Secretary.

Do I deserve that thou should’st flee me thus

The moment that I bring thee wish’d-for tidings?

Pray listen first to what I have to say.

Governess.

The burden of thy importunity

Too well I ween. Oh, let my eyes from seeing

The well-known glances, let my ears from hearing

The well-known accents ever turn away.

Let me escape the devastating power

Which through the influence of love and friendship

Beside me like a gloomy spectre stands.

Secretary.

When I before thee suddenly would pour,

After long hope deferr’d, the golden horn

Of fortune, when the morning-glow begins

That marks the dawning of the blissful day

That shall unite our lives forevermore,

Then seemest thou embarrass’d and reluctant

To meet thy bridegroom’s tenderest advances.

Governess.

Therein thou showest me one side alone:

It glows and glistens like the world in sunshine.

But black night’s horror threatens nigh: I feel it.

Secretary.

Then let us first see but the lovely side.

Desirest thou a dwelling in the city,

Spacious and handsome, furnish’d splendidly,

Such as one wishes for himself, for guests?

’Tis waiting for thee: when next winter comes

’Twill find thee settl’d nobly, if thou wilt.

In Springtime dost thou yearn to see the country,

There too a house is ours, a lovely garden,

A fertile field. And all the keen enjoyment

In forest, moors, in meadows, brooks and ponds

That fancy e’en in visions might imagine

Shall we possess, in part our own estate,

In part as common property. And thus,

Since nothing goes for rent, by careful saving

We shall be able to secure our future.

Governess.

The picture that thou paintest with such hues

Before my eyes is wrapp’d in gloomy clouds.

For not desirable but hideous seems

The abundance offer’d by the worldly gods.

What is the sacrifice they ask? To ruin

My gentle pupil’s happiness and fortune!

And whatsoe’er a crime like that might bring me,

Could I enjoy it with a quiet mind?

Eugenie! thou whose pure and gentle nature

From earliest youth entrusted to my guidance

With rich fruition has develop’d nobly.

How can I now distinguish in thee what

Is thine and what thou hast to thank me for?

Thee whom I love as my own handiwork

Must I then pluck out from my heart and ruin?

Of what base stuff are ye compos’d, ye monsters,

To dare demand a deed like this for lucre!

Secretary.

A good and honest heart preserves from youth

A store of precious treasures which in time

More costly grow and worthier of our love

To serve withal the Godhead of the temple.

Yet, when the mighty power that governs us

Demands a costly sacrifice, we yield it

At last although our hearts bleed at the duty.

Two worlds there be, my darling, which, conflicting

With awful violence, crush us between them.

Governess.

Thy steps appear to wander in a world

To me entirely foreign, since thou schemest

A treacherous stroke against thy noble patron,

The Duke, preparing days of sorrow for him

By holding to his son. If the Almighty

Appears at times to give assent to crime

We call it accident. But man who chooses

With due reflection such unlawful paths,

He is a puzzle. But—and am not I

A puzzle to myself that I should cling

With such affection to thee when thou strivest

To drag me with thee o’er the precipice?

Oh, why did Nature cast thee in her mould,

So pleasing, lovely, irresistible,

And plant within thy bosom a cold heart,

A heart destructive of the peace of others?

Secretary.

Dost thou distrust the warmth of my affection?

Governess.

This hand should slay me if I only dar’d.

Oh, why, alas! with this detested plot

Again assault my heart? Didst thou not swear

To hide the horror in everlasting night?

Secretary.

Alas! it rose with more impellent might!

This step is forc’d upon the Prince’s son.

An insignificant, inoffensive child

Eugenie was, for many peaceful years.

Commencing with her very earliest days,

Shrin’d in this ancient hall thou wert her guardian,

Few came to see her, and those secretly.

Yet how a father’s love deceiv’d itself.

The Duke, proud of his daughter’s excellence,

Relax’d his care and by degrees allow’d her

To show herself in public openly:

On horseback, driving, she is seen. All ask,

And all at last know, who the maiden is.

Her mother now is dead. The haughty dame,

To whom the child was an abomination,

A keen reminder of her fatal passion,

Had never recogniz’d her, scarcely seen her.

By her decease the Duke at last feels freed,

Devises secret plans, once more attends

At court, forgets the ancient grudge he owed

And seeks the King in reconciliation,

Demanding only that he grant this child

Her birthright as a princess of his race.

Governess.

And do you then begrudge this lovely creature

The joy of feeling that the right was hers?

Secretary.

Belov’d! dearest! ah, thou speakest lightly,

Thus wall’d and separated from the world,

In cloister-wise, of riches of the earth!

Turn hence thine eyes! A treasure such as this

Is valu’d there more truly at its worth.

The father grudges it his son, the son

Reckons his father’s years, and deadly discord

Parts brothers, through this right intangible.

And e’en the priest forgets his sacred goal

And strives for riches. Is it then surprising

That, when the Prince has always call’d himself

The only child, he should decline to welcome

This sister who with insolent intrusion

Diminishes his fair inheritance?

What, if in his place, would’st thou do thyself?

Governess.

Already is he not a wealthy Prince?

And at his father’s death will he not be

Superfluously rich? If he should spend

A part of his possessions would he waste them

In winning by them such a lovely sister?

Secretary.

To act with arbitrary will delights

The man of fortune. Nature’s claims he scorns;

He scorns the authority of law and reason,

And spends his substance on the throw of chance.

Merely to have sufficient is to starve.

Give all or nothing. Measureless possessions

For endless squandering are what he wishes.

Advice is not desir’d; think not to turn us.

If thou wilt not work with us, give us up.

Governess.

What is the deed ye plan? Long ye have threaten’d,

Holding aloof, to blast the lovely child.

What have ye now in monstrous crime devis’d

To spoil her chance of fortune. Do ye ask

That I should blindly cling to what ye plan?

Secretary.

By no means. Thou shalt be initiated.

The first step lies with thee. Our scheme demands

That thou abduct Eugenie. She must vanish

So utterly from knowledge of the world

That we can confidently mourn her death.

The secret of her fate must be conceal’d

Forever, like the secret of the dead.

Governess.

Ye doom her to a living grave, O villains,

And think to send me with her as companion.

Me too ye doom. I am with her to share—

I the betrayer chain’d to the betray’d—

The awful fate of death, a living death!

Secretary.

Thou shalt return when thou hast done the deed.

Governess.

Is it a cloister where her days will end?

Secretary.

Not in a cloister! Such a costly pledge

We could not give the clergy, who might use it

Against us as a most convenient tool.

Governess.

Then is it to the Islands? Tell me plainly!

Secretary.

Thy destination shall be known. Be patient!

Governess.

How can I be before the fear and danger

That threat my lov’d one’s happiness and mine?

Secretary.

Thy lov’d one in her new life joy will find.

And joy and rapture will await thee here.

Governess.

Oh, flatter not yourselves with such a hope!

What good is there in holding such temptations

Before me—forcing me, enticing me?

The noble child herself will block your scheme.

Think not to drag her off a willing victim

And helpless. Nay, the spirit that fills her heart

With courage, and the power inherited,

Will go with her where’er she goes, and break

The evil net which you have cast around her.

Secretary.

Thy part will be to make the meshes strong.

Wilt thou persuade me that a simple child,

Till now protected by the arm of Fortune,

Will show, when unexpected chance arises,

Forethought and power, sagacity and wisdom?

Her mind is cultur’d but to think, not act.

And if her thoughts are right, her speech delightful,

Yet much is lacking in her will to do.

The lofty boundless courage of ignorance

Sinks easily to cowardice and despair

When stern Necessity presents itself.

What we have plann’d see that thou carry out.

Small will the harm be, splendid the reward.

Governess.

Then give me time to ponder and decide.

Secretary.

The moment for the action is at hand.

The Duke knows well that the next holiday

The King will grant the favor long desired,

And recognize his daughter’s princely birth.

For clothes and costly jewels are provided

Already, laid in splendid cabinets,

The keys of which he guards with jealous care,

And thinks he keeps a perfect mystery.

But we are in his secret and prepar’d.

What we have schem’d must quickly now be done.

This evening thou’lt hear more. Till then farewell.

Governess.

On dubious paths ye work, on mischief bent,

And think ye see a profit in your plans.

Has no suspicion ever cross’d your mind

That over guilt and innocence there hovers

A Being from whose essence streams avenging

A light divine that rescues the oppress’d?

Secretary.

Who dares gainsay the ruling Providence

That shapes conformably to his own will

The outcome of our deeds whate’er they be?

Yet who presumes to make himself an arbiter

In God’s high councils? Who can know

The rule and law by which his fiat works?

We have our reason, and in stature grown

We walk erect upon the face of earth,

And our advantage is our highest right.

Governess.

Thus are ye traitors to the godlike

If ye despise the dictates of the heart!

It calls me boldly to ward off the danger

That hangs with horrid threat’ning o’er my darling;

It bids me arm myself against my lover,

Against the base designs that strong men harbor!

No glittering promise and no threats shall force me

To leave my rightful place beside my pupil:

Thus do I stand devoted to protect her.

Secretary.

Ah! sweetest, thou alone canst give her safety,

And thou alone the danger canst avert

And at the selfsame time assist our plan.

Lay hold upon her swiftly; take the maiden

As far as possible away, conceal her

That no one know her habitation! Else—

(Thou tremblest—for thou knowest well

The words upon my lips!) Since thou hast forc’d me

Let the alternative at last be said:—

Removal with her is the mildest measure—

If thou refusest to co-operate,

If thou art minded secretly to check us,

And if thou darest, out of friendly purpose,

To drop the slightest hint of what I tell thee,

Then dead she lies upon thy bosom! What

Would fill my heart with sorrow must be done!

SCENE II.

Governess.

His angry threat brings no surprise for me!

’Tis long that I have seen this smouldering fire,

And now it bursts in flames of fury out.

If I would save thee, must I, darling child,

Dispel the lovely dream that beckons thee?

One hope alone diminishes my sorrow—

It vanishes before I fairly hold it.

Eugenie! if thou only could’st renounce

The splendid fortune, which appears so boundless,

Before thy footsteps cross the fatal threshold

Where danger, death, or banishment awaits thee!

Oh, if I only dared enlighten thee,

Dared point the secret hiding-place where lurk

The evil conclave of thy persecutors!

Ah, I must keep dark counsel! Only hints

Can shrive my soul before thee! In the tumult

Of eager pleasure wilt thou understand?

SCENE III.

Eugenie. Governess.

Eugenie.

Welcome a thousand times, friend of my heart,

Who showest a mother’s fondness for me, welcome!

Governess.

With joy, dear child, I press thee to my bosom,

And share the rapture which thy buoyant life

So richly yields thee. How thy dear eyes sparkle!

O’er cheek and brow what lovely color mantles.

What joyous fortune swells thy youthful breast?

Eugenie.

A great misfortune has befallen me:

The horse fell headlong from the crag with me.

Governess.

My God!

Eugenie.

Be calm! thou seest me again

Unharm’d and fortunate, though great the fall!

Governess.

How was it? Tell me!

Eugenie.

Thou shalt hear how fortune

Resulted splendidly from my disaster.

Governess.

Alas! from fortune often pain develops.

Eugenie.

Let words of evil import not be spoken,

And fright me not with evil thoughts of sorrow!

Governess.

Ah, would that thou could’st trust me absolutely!

Eugenie.

Above all others thee! Yet leave me now,

Beloved, to myself! I wish, alone,

To wont myself to feelings new and strange.

Thou knowest what delight my father takes

Whene’er a little poem comes to greet him

Not look’d for, as the favor of the Muses

Grants power to give expression to my thoughts.

So leave me! Even now the inspiration

Is on me; I must seize it ere it fail me.

Governess.

When shall we hold again the precious hours

Of sweet discourse and gentle confidences?

When shall we once again like happy maidens,

Who tireless show each other their adornments,

Unlock the secret chambers of our hearts,

Comparing all our changeable possessions?

Eugenie.

Those pleasant moments will return again

Whose peaceful joys one gladly recollects,

Sharing with confidence our confidences.

Yet leave me in full loneliness to-day

To find the need of trustful days like those.

SCENE IV.

Eugenie.

LaterGovernesswithout.

Eugenie.

(Getting out a portfolio.)

Now quick to work with parchment and with pen!

’Tis wholly mine and soon it shall be written;

The tribute flowing from my thankful heart,

Which to the King, upon that festal day

When, new-born by his all-compelling word,

I enter life, shall now be dedicated.

[She copies out what she slowly recites.

With what a wondrous prospect am I greeted!

Canst thou, O master of the realm elysian,

Forgive the novice for her indecision?

Blinded by Majesty I sink defeated!

Yet soon encourag’d by the judgment meted,

I lift to thee my eyes in raptur’d vision,

Confess’d thy kin, receiv’d without derision,

And all my young hopes are at last completed!

Thus let the boundless spring of grace flow ever!

Here will my faithful heart, ecstatic, tarry,

Sway’d by the majesty of love’s emotion.

My all hangs by a thread a touch might sever!

Methinks the life thou gavest I should carry

And lay before thy throne in sweet devotion.

[Contemplating her writing with satisfaction.

Long has it been, O agitated heart,

Since thou hast spoken in the words of verse.

How happy are we when our inmost feelings

Can take the impress of infinity!

Yet is it quite enough? Here streams it forth,

Here streams it up! Great day, thou drawest nigh,

Which gives the King to us and which shall give

For measureless delight me to the King,

Me to my father, me unto myself.

May this high festival exalt my song!

The wings of Fancy are already spread.

It bears me up before the throne, presents me,

And gives me to the circle rare—

Governess.

Eugenie!

Eugenie.

Hark! What is that?

Governess.

’Tis I! Open the door!

Eugenie.

Vexatious interruption! I am busy.

Governess.

Word from thy father!

Eugenie.

What! my father? Hold!

Then I will open!

Governess.

Yes, thy father sends

Great gifts to thee

Eugenie.

One moment!

Governess.

Dost thou hear?

Eugenie.

One moment! Where shall I conceal this paper?

Too clearly it betrays the hopes I feel.

No nook affords concealment! and with me

There is no safety even in my desk.

For treacherous and faithless are my servants.

When I have slept my papers have been rummag’d,

And many of my treasures have been stolen.

This mystery, the greatest of my life,

Where, where shall I bestow it?

[She approaches the wall.

Ah, yes! here,

Where thou, in days past, wainscot cabinet,

Didst hide the innocent secrets of my childhood!

Discover’d by my restless energy,

Investigating, born of idleness

And childish natural curiosity,

Thou, known to no one save myself, springest open!

[She presses on an invisible spring and a little door flies open.

Thus as I once conceal’d forbidden sweets

For sly enjoyment in thy secret chamber,

So now, transported, timid, I entrust thee

A little space with my life’s happiness.

[She lays the parchment in the cupboard and closes it.

The days press on and full of expectation

Bring joy and sadness with them in their train.

[She opens the door.

SCENE V.

Eugenie. Governess. Servantsbringing a magnificent dressing-case.

Governess.

If I disturb thee, still I bring with me

What in thy eyes should give me absolution.

Eugenie.

This from my father! This resplendent gift!

What content does a shrine like that portend?

(To theServants.)

Ho! tarry yet a moment!

[She hands them a purse.

Take this trifle

As foretaste of reward for service! richer follows!

[ExitServants.

No letter and no key! ’Tis passing strange!

Must such a treasure wait me unexplor’d?

O curiosity! O eager longing!

Suspectest thou what mean these gifts to me?

Governess.

I doubt not thou thyself hast solv’d the riddle.

It signifies a coming elevation.

The finery of a princess is allow’d thee

Because the King will soon declare thy rank.

Eugenie.

What makes thee think so?

Governess.

Oh, I know it well!

The secrets of the great are never kept.

Eugenie.

Well, if thou knowest, why should I dissemble?

Shall I restrain before thee without reason

My curiosity to see this gift? The key

Is here! I know my father did forbid it.

Yet what did he forbid? To tell the secret

Before the time. Yet thou already knowest

The weighty news: what more is there to tell

Than thou hast heard, and through thy love for me

Hast kept in guard beneath the seal of silence?

Why then delay? Come, let us open! come!

So that the glory of the gifts may charm us!

Governess.

Nay! touch it not! Remember his forbiddance.

Who knows the reason of the Duke’s command?

Eugenie.

He had a purpose for his prohibition,

That purpose now is render’d nugatory;

Thou knowest all. Thou lovest me, thou art

A faithful friend that can preserve a secret.

So let us push the bolt and close the chamber,

And let us quick together solve the mystery.

[She shuts the chamber door and runs to the casket.

Governess.

(Restraining her.) The gold, the colors of the splendid fabrics,

The soft light of the pearls, the gleam of jewels,

Ah! let them all remain unseen! They tempt thee

Beyond control to seek the fatal goal!

Eugenie.

Not they, but what they signify, attract me.

[She opens the box; mirrors adorn the cover.

What costly raiment, lying folded there

E’en as I touch it, shows before my eyes!

And do these mirrors not make swift demand

To image forth the maiden in her jewels?

Governess.

Medea’s fiery garment seems to me

To lie unfolded in my nerveless hand!

Eugenie.

What Melancholy weaves its mist around thee?

Think rather of delightful bridal feasts!

Come! reach the treasures to me one by one!

That underdress! how richly, sweetly gleam

The silver gauze, the sparkle of its hues.

Governess.

(Throwing the garment overEugenie’sshoulders.) If e’er the rays of Favor’s sun should darken,

The cause would be such glory’s bright reflection.

Eugenie.

A faithful heart deserves the rays of favor,

And if they fail it draws them back again.—

Now bring the gold-embroider’d overskirt,

And spread the train with all its wealth of lace.

The brilliancy of flowers has ting’d the gold

Spread in metallic hues with tasteful choice.

Am I not beautiful in this array?

Governess.

Yet beauty unadorn’d is honor’d more

For its own splendor by the truly wise.

Eugenie.

The truly wise may treasure simple beauty,

But most prefer the beauty that’s adorn’d.—

Now bring the tender twilight of the pearls,

The flashing glory of the splendid jewels.

Governess.

Yet not the appearance but the genuine worth

Can satisfy the cravings of thy heart!

Eugenie.

What is appearance having naught of substance,

And what would substance be without appearance?

Governess.

And hast thou not enjoy’d within these walls

The long untroubled days of sunny youth,

Nor felt the secret bliss of holy rapture

When cradled with the hearts of those that love thee?

Eugenie.

The tender bud rejoices in its calyx

So long as Winter’s frost besieges it;

But now the breath of Spring inspires its life,

It bursts in blossoms, full of light and fragrance!

Governess.

But moderation gives a joy serene!

Eugenie.

Provided that a moderate aim is set.

Governess.

He who enjoys submits to limitations.

Eugenie.

Thy arguments persuade me not, thus rob’d.

Oh, would that this apartment might expand

Until it reach’d the glory of the King’s.

That splendid carpets deck’d the polish’d floors,

That golden groins might overarch the vault!

And thus before the throne of royalty

With humble pride, among the haughty nobles

Reflecting back the smiling beams of grace,

I ’mid the circle of distinguish’d ones

Should stand the most distinguish’d at the pageant.

Oh, let me have the foretaste of this joy

When all the world shall wonder at my fortune.

Governess.

Thou’lt be an object not of wonder only:

Envy will mark thee, hate will seek thy ruin.

Eugenie.

Success must ever raise the coils of envy.

We learn to keep our guard when haters prowl.

Governess.

Humiliation oft surprises pride.

Eugenie.

Presence of mind will guard against surprise!

[Turning to the dressing-case.

Not yet have we examin’d everything.

For self alone I do not ask this fortune;

With others would I all my treasures share.

Governess.

(Taking out a jewel box.)

Here written on this box the words: “For Gifts.”

Eugenie.

Then pray select the things that please thee most.

Among these watches, boxes, take thy choice.

Yet hold! Be wary! Who can tell? Perchance

Yet costlier things lie hid within the case!

Governess.

Would that a powerful talisman were here

To win thy cruel brother’s love to thee!

Eugenie.

The pure affections of the ingenuous heart

May gradually soften his ill will.

Governess.

Yet those who strive to make more black his grudge

Are pledg’d forever to oppose thy wishes.

Eugenie.

If they till now have sought to block my fortune,

Yet since the grand decision has been made

They will each one conform without a murmur.

Governess.

That which thou hopest is not yet accomplish’d.

Eugenie.

Yet ’tis so safe that I can call it done.

[Returning to the case again.

See what is lying in that long flat box!

Governess.

(Uncovering it.) The loveliest ribbons, fresh and newly chosen!

Ah, let not curious contemplation ruin

With dissipating tendency thy mind.

Oh, would it might be, that my earnest warning

Should make a moment’s impress on thy mind.

From the still circle thou wilt soon emerge

On wider fields where anxious cares will harass,

Where dangerous snares, where Death itself, perchance,

From murderous hands of enemies await thee.

Eugenie.

Thou art unwell! How can my sure success

Appear to thee as frightful as a spectre?

[Gazing into the box.

What do I see? This roll! ’tis verily

The ribbon of the noblest princely order!

This also I must wear then! Come! make haste!

I wish to see its whole effect! ’Tis part

Of this superb array. It must be tried!

[The order is attached.

Now prate to me of death! now prate of danger!

What nobler grace than when a man can stand

In all the bravery of heroic garb

Amid his peers in presence of his King?

What gives more satisfaction to the eye

Than robes that tell of splendid lines of knights?

This raiment and its colors are they not

A symbol of the danger ever near?

The sash, significant of war, wherewith

A man with dauntless courage girds himself?

My friend, my love! Whatever ornament

Is emblematical of peril, that

Must, of necessity, be dangerous!

So give me then the sentiment of courage

To meet the dangers menacing my path,

Array’d, as now, in splendid princely garb.

Henceforth, irrevocable is my fortune.

Governess.

(Aside.) The fate that calls thee is irrevocable.