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.

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.