WALPURGIS-NIGHT
THE HARTZ MOUNTAINS. DISTRICT OF SCHIERKE AND ELEND
FAUST and MEPHISTOPHELES
MEPHISTOPHELES
A broomstick dost thou not at least desire?
The roughest he-goat fain would I bestride,
By this road from our goal we’re still far wide.
FAUST
While fresh upon my legs, so long I naught require,
Except this knotty staff. Beside,
What boots it to abridge a pleasant way?
Along the labyrinth of these vales to creep,
Then scale these rocks, whence, in eternal spray,
Adown the cliffs the silvery fountains leap:
Such is the joy that seasons paths like these!
Spring weaves already in the birchen trees;
E’en the late pine-grove feels her quickening powers;
Should she not work within these limbs of ours?
MEPHISTOPHELES
Naught of this genial influence do I know!
Within me all is wintry. Frost and snow
I should prefer my dismal path to bound.
How sadly, yonder, with belated glow
Rises the ruddy moon’s imperfect round,
Shedding so faint a light, at every tread
One’s sure to stumble ‘gainst a rock or tree!
An Ignis Fatuus I must call instead.
Yonder one burning merrily, I see.
Holla! my friend! may I request your light?
Why should you flare away so uselessly?
Be kind enough to show us up the height!
IGNIS FATUUS
Through reverence, I hope I may subdue
The lightness of my nature; true,
Our course is but a zigzag one.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Ho! ho!
So men, forsooth, he thinks to imitate!
Now, in the devil’s name, for once go straight!
Or out at once your flickering life I’ll blow.
IGNIS FATUUS
That you are master here is obvious quite;
To do your will, I’ll cordially essay;
Only reflect! The hill is magic-mad tonight;
And if to show the path you choose a meteor’s light,
You must not wonder should we go astray.
FAUST, MEPHISTOPHELES, IGNIS FATUUS (in alternate song)
Through the dream and magic-sphere,
As it seems, we now are speeding;
Honor win, us rightly leading,
That betimes we may appear
In yon wide and desert region!
Trees on trees, a stalwart legion,
Swiftly past us are retreating,
And the cliffs with lowly greeting;
Rocks long-snouted, row on row,
How they snort, and how they blow!
Through the stones and heather springing,
Brook and brooklet haste below;
Hark the rustling! Hark the singing!
Hearken to love’s plaintive lays;
Voices of those heavenly days—
What we hope, and what we love!
Like a tale of olden time,
Echo’s voice prolongs the chime.
To-whit! To-who! It sounds more near;
Plover, owl, and jay appear,
All awake, around, above?
Paunchy salamanders too
Peer, long-limbed, the bushes through!
And, like snakes, the roots of trees
Coil themselves from rock and sand,
Stretching many a wondrous band,
Us to frighten, us to seize;
From rude knots with life embued,
Polyp-fangs abroad they spread,
To snare the wanderer! ‘Neath our tread,
Mice, in myriads, thousand-hued,
Through the heath and through the moss!
And the fire-flies’ glittering throng,
Wildering escort, whirls along,
Here and there, our path across.
Tell me, stand we motionless,
Or still forward do we press?
All things round us whirl and fly,
Rocks and trees make strange grimaces,
Dazzling meteors change their places—
How they puff and multiply!
MEPHISTOPHELES
Now grasp my doublet—we at last
A central peak have reached, which shows,
If round a wondering glance we cast,
How in the mountain Mammon glows.
FAUST
How through the chasms strangely gleams,
A lurid light, like dawn’s red glow,
Pervading with its quivering beams,
The gorges of the gulf below!
Here vapors rise, there clouds float by,
Here through the mist the light doth shine;
Now, like a fount, it bursts on high,
Meanders now, a slender line;
Far reaching, with a hundred veins,
Here through the valley see it glide;
Here, where its force the gorge restrains,
At once it scatters, far and wide;
Anear, like showers of golden sand
Strewn broadcast, sputter sparks of light:
And mark yon rocky walls that stand
Ablaze, in all their towering height!
MEPHISTOPHELES
Doth not Sir Mammon for this fête
Grandly illume his palace! Thou
Art lucky to have seen it; now,
The boisterous guests, I feel, are coming straight.
FAUST
How through the air the storm doth whirl!
Upon my neck it strikes with sudden shock.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Cling to these ancient ribs of granite rock,
Else to yon depths profound it you will hurl.
A murky vapor thickens night.
Hark! Through the woods the tempests roar!
The owlets flit in wild affright.
Hark! Splinter’d are the columns that upbore
The leafy palace, green for aye:
The shivered branches whirr and sigh,
Yawn the huge trunks with mighty groan,
The roots, upriven, creak and moan!
In fearful and entangled fall,
One crashing ruin whelms them all,
While through the desolate abyss,
Sweeping the wreck-strewn precipice,
The raging storm-blasts howl and hiss!
Aloft strange voices dost thou hear?
Distant now and now more near?
Hark! the mountain ridge along,
Streameth a raving magic-song!
WITCHES (in chorus)
Now to the Brocken the witches hie,
The stubble is yellow, the corn is green;
Thither the gathering legions fly,
And sitting aloft is Sir Urian seen:
O’er stick and o’er stone they go whirling along,
Witches and he-goats, a motley throng.
VOICES
Alone old Baubo’s coming now;
She rides upon a farrow sow.
CHORUS
Honor to her, to whom honor is due!
Forward, Dame Baubo! Honor to you!
A goodly sow and mother thereon,
The whole witch chorus follows anon.
VOICE
Which way didst come?
VOICE
O’er Ilsenstein!
There I peep’d in an owlet’s nest.
With her broad eye she gazed in mine!
VOICE
Drive to the devil, thou hellish pest!
Why ride so hard?
VOICE
She has graz’d my side,
Look at the wounds, how deep and how wide!
WITCHES (in chorus)
The way is broad, the way is long;
What mad pursuit! What tumult wild!
Scratches the besom and sticks the prong;
Crush’d is the mother, and stifled the child.
WIZARDS (half chorus)
Like house-encumber’d snail we creep;
While far ahead the women keep,
For when to the devil’s house we speed,
By a thousand steps they take the lead.
THE OTHER HALF
Not so, precisely do we view it;
They with a thousand steps may do it;
But let them hasten as they can,
With one long bound ’tis clear’d by man.
VOICES (above)
Come with us, come with us from Felsensee.
VOICES (from below)
Aloft to you we would mount with glee!
We wash, and free from all stain are we,
Yet barren evermore must be!
BOTH CHORUSES
The wind is hushed, the stars grow pale,
The pensive moon her light doth veil;
And whirling on, the magic choir
Sputters forth sparks of drizzling fire.
VOICE (from below)
Stay! stay!
VOICE (from above)
What voice of woe
Calls from the cavern’d depths below?
VOICE (from below)
Take me with you! Oh take me too!
Three centuries I climb in vain,
And yet can ne’er the summit gain!
To be with my kindred I am fain.
BOTH CHORUSES
Broom and pitch-fork, goat and prong,
Mounted on these we whirl along;
Who vainly strives to climb tonight,
Is evermore a luckless wight!
DEMI-WITCH (below)
I hobble after, many a day;
Already the others are far away!
No rest at home can I obtain—
Here too my efforts are in vain!
CHORUS OF WITCHES
Salve gives the witches strength to rise;
A rag for a sail does well enough;
A goodly ship is every trough;
Tonight who flies not, never flies.
BOTH CHORUSES
And when the topmost peak we round,
Then alight ye on the ground;
The heath’s wide regions cover ye
With your mad swarms of witchery!
[They let themselves down.]
MEPHISTOPHELES
They crowd and jostle, whirl and flutter!
They whisper, babble, twirl, and splutter!
They glimmer, sparkle, stink and flare—
A true witch-element! Beware!
Stick close! else we shall severed be.
Where art thou?
FAUST (in the distance)
Here!
MEPHISTOPHELES
Already, whirl’d so far away!
The master then indeed I needs must play.
Give ground! Squire Voland comes! Sweet folk, give ground!
Here, doctor, grasp me! With a single bound
Let us escape this ceaseless jar;
Even for me too mad these people are.
Hard by there shineth something with peculiar glare,
Yon brake allureth me; it is not far;
Come, come along with me! we’ll slip in there.
FAUST
Spirit of contradiction! Lead! I’ll follow straight!
‘Twas wisely done, however, to repair
On May-night to the Brocken, and when there,
By our own choice ourselves to isolate!
MEPHISTOPHELES
Mark, of those flames the motley glare!
A merry club assembles there.
In a small circle one is not alone.
FAUST
I’d rather be above, though, I must own!
Already fire and eddying smoke I view;
The impetuous millions to the devil ride;
Full many a riddle will be there untied.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Ay! and full many a riddle tied anew.
But let the great world rave and riot!
Here will we house ourselves in quiet.
A custom ’tis of ancient date,
Our lesser worlds within the great world to create!
Young witches there I see, naked and bare,
And old ones, veil’d more prudently.
For my sake only courteous be!
The trouble small, the sport is rare.
Of instruments I hear the cursed din—
One must get used to it. Come in! come in!
There’s now no help for it. I’ll step before,
And introducing you as my good friend,
Confer on you one obligation more.
How say you now? ‘Tis no such paltry room;
Why only look, you scarce can see the end.
A hundred fires in rows disperse the gloom;
They dance, they talk, they cook, make love, and drink:
Where could we find aught better, do you think?
FAUST
To introduce us, do you purpose here
As devil or as wizard to appear?
MEPHISTOPHELES
Though I am wont indeed to strict incognito,
Yet upon gala-days one must one’s orders show.
No garter have I to distinguish me,
Nathless the cloven foot doth here give dignity.
Seest thou yonder snail? Crawling this way she hies;
With searching feelers, she, no doubt,
Hath me already scented out;
Here, even if I would, for me there’s no disguise.
From fire to fire, we’ll saunter at our leisure,
The gallant you, I’ll cater for your pleasure.
(To a party seated round, some expiring embers)
Old gentleman, apart, why sit ye moping here?
Ye in the midst should be of all this jovial cheer,
Girt round with noise and youthful riot;
At home one surely has enough of quiet.
GENERAL
In nations put his trust, who may,
Whate’er for them one may have done;
For with the people, as with women, they
Honor your rising stars alone!
MINISTER
Now all too far they wander from the right;
I praise the good old ways, to them I hold,
Then was the genuine age of gold,
When we ourselves were foremost in men’s sight.
PARVENU
Ne’er were we ‘mong your dullards found,
And what we ought not, that to do were fair;
Yet now are all things turning round and round,
When on firm basis we would them maintain.
AUTHOR
Who, as a rule, a treatise now would care
To read, of even moderate sense?
As for the rising generation, ne’er
Has youth displayed such arrogant pretense.
MEPHISTOPHELES (suddenly appearing very old)
Since for the last time I the Brocken scale,
That folk are ripe for doomsday, now one sees;
And just because my cask begins to fail,
So the whole world is also on the lees.
HUCKSTER-WITCH
Stop, gentlemen, nor pass me by,
Of wares I have a choice collection:
Pray honor them with your inspection.
Lose not this opportunity!
Yet nothing in my booth you’ll find
Without its counterpart on earth; there’s naught,
Which to the world, and to mankind,
Hath not some direful mischief wrought.
No dagger here, which hath not flow’d with blood,
No chalice, whence, into some healthy frame
Hath not been poured hot poison’s wasting flood.
No trinket, but hath wrought some woman’s shame,
No weapon but hath cut some sacred tie,
Or from behind hath stabb’d an enemy.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Gossip! For wares like these the time’s gone by,
What’s done is past! what’s past is done!
With novelties your booth supply;
Us novelties attract alone.
FAUST
May this wild scene my senses spare!
This, may in truth be called a fair!
MEPHISTOPHELES
Upward the eddying concourse throng;
Thinking to push, thyself art push’d along.
FAUST
Who’s that, pray?
MEPHISTOPHELES
Mark her well! That’s Lilith.
FAUST
Who?
MEPHISTOPHELES
Adam’s first wife. Of her rich locks beware!
That charm in which she’s parallel’d by few,
When in its toils a youth she doth ensnare
He will not soon escape, I promise you.
FAUST
There sit a pair, the old one with the young;
Already they have bravely danced and sprung!
MEPHISTOPHELES
Here there is no repose today.
Another dance begins; we’ll join it, come away!
FAUST (dancing with the young one)
Once a fair vision came to me;
Therein I saw an apple-tree,
Two beauteous apples charmed mine eyes;
I climb’d forthwith to reach the prize.
THE FAIR ONE
Apples still fondly ye desire,
From paradise it hath been so.
Feelings of joy my breast inspire
That such too in my garden grow.
MEPHISTOPHELES (with the old one)
Once a weird vision came to me;
Therein I saw a rifted tree.
It had a…..;
But as it was it pleased me too.
THE OLD ONE
I beg most humbly to salute
The gallant with the cloven foot!
Let him … have ready here,
If he a … does not fear.
PROCTOPHANTASMIST
Accursed mob! How dare ye thus to meet?
Have I not shown and demonstrated too,
That ghosts stand not on ordinary feet?
Yet here ye dance, as other mortals do!
THE FAIR ONE (dancing)
Then at our ball, what doth he here?
FAUST (dancing)
Oh! He must everywhere appear.
He must adjudge, when others dance;
If on each step his say’s not said,
So is that step as good as never made.
He’s most annoyed, so soon as we advance;
If ye would circle in one narrow round.
As he in his old mill, then doubtless he
Your dancing would approve,—especially
If ye forthwith salute him with respect profound!
PROCTOPHANTASMIST
Still here! what arrogance! unheard of quite!
Vanish; we now have fill’d the world with light!
Laws are unheeded by the devil’s host;
Wise as we are, yet Tegel hath its ghost!
How long at this conceit I’ve swept with all my might,
Lost is the labor: ’tis unheard of quite!
THE FAIR ONE
Cease here to tease us any more, I pray.
PROCTOPHANTASMIST
Spirits, I plainly to your face declare:
No spiritual control myself will bear,
Since my own spirit can exert no sway.
[The dancing continues.]
Tonight, I see, I shall in naught succeed;
But I’m prepar’d my travels to pursue,
And hope, before my final step indeed,
To triumph over bards and devils too.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Now in some puddle will he take his station,
Such is his mode of seeking consolation;
Where leeches, feasting on his rump, will drain
Spirits alike and spirit from his brain.
(To FAUST, who has left the dance)
But why the charming damsel leave, I pray,
Who to you in the dance so sweetly sang?
FAUST
Ah! in the very middle of her lay,
Out of her mouth a small red mouse there sprang.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Suppose there did! One must not be too nice.
‘Twas well it was not gray, let that suffice.
Who ‘mid his pleasures for a trifle cares?
FAUST
Then saw I—
MEPHISTOPHELES
What?
FAUST
Mephisto, seest thou there
Standing far off, a lone child, pale and fair!
Slow from the spot her drooping form she tears,
And seems with shackled feet to move along;
I own, within me the delusion’s strong,
That she the likeness of my Gretchen wears.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Gaze not upon her! ‘Tis not good! Forbear!
‘Tis lifeless, magical, a shape of air,
An idol. Such to meet with, bodes no good;
That rigid look of hers doth freeze man’s blood,
And well-nigh petrifies his heart to stone:—
The story of Medusa thou hast known.
FAUST
Ay, verily! a corpse’s eyes are those,
Which there was no fond loving hand to close.
That is the bosom I so fondly press’d,
That my sweet Gretchen’s form, so oft caress’d!
MEPHISTOPHELES
Deluded fool! ‘Tis magic, I declare!
To each she doth his lov’d one’s image wear.
FAUST
What bliss! what torture! vainly I essay
To turn me from that piteous look away.
How strangely doth a single crimson line
Around that lovely neck its coil entwine,
It shows no broader than a knife’s blunt edge!
MEPHISTOPHELES
Quite right. I see it also, and allege
That she beneath her arm her head can bear,
Since Perseus cut it off.—But you I swear
Are craving for illusions still!
Come then, ascend yon little hill!
As on the Prater all is gay,
And if my senses are not gone,
I see a theatre,—what’s going on?
SERVIBILIS
They are about to recommence;—the play,
Will be the last of seven, and spick-span new—
‘Tis usual here that number to present.
A dilettante did the piece invent,
And dilettanti will enact it too.
Excuse me, gentlemen; to me’s assign’d,
As dilettante to uplift the curtain.
MEPHISTOPHELES
You on the Blocksberg I’m rejoiced to find,
That ’tis your most appropriate sphere is certain.
WALPURGIS-NIGHT’S DREAM; OR, OBERON AND TITANIA’S GOLDEN WEDDING-FEAST
INTERMEZZO
* * * * *
THEATRE
MANAGER
Vales, where mists still shift and play,
To ancient hill succeeding,—
These our scenes;—so we, today,
May rest, brave sons of Mieding.
HERALD
That the marriage golden be,
Must fifty years be ended;
More dear this feast of gold to me,
Contention now suspended.
OBERON
Spirits, if present, grace the scene,
And if with me united,
Then gratulate the king and queen,
Their troth thus newly plighted!
PUCK
Puck draws near and wheels about,
In mazy circles dancing!
Hundreds swell his joyous shout,
Behind him still advancing.
ARIEL
Ariel wakes his dainty air,
His lyre celestial stringing.—
Fools he lureth, and the fair,
With his celestial singing.
OBERON
Wedded ones, would ye agree,
We court your imitation:
Would ye fondly love as we,
We counsel separation.
TITANIA
If husband scold and wife retort,
Then bear them far asunder;
Her to the burning south transport,
And him the North Pole under.
THE WHOLE ORCHESTRA (fortissimo)
Flies and midges all unite
With frog and chirping cricket,
Our orchestra throughout the night,
Resounding in the thicket!
(Solo)
Yonder doth the bagpipe come!
Its sack an airy bubble.
Schnick, schnick, schnack, with nasal hum,
Its notes it doth redouble.
EMBRYO SPIRIT
Spider’s foot and midge’s wing,
A toad in form and feature;
Together verses it can string,
Though scarce a living creature.
A LITTLE PAIR
Tiny step and lofty bound,
Through dew and exhalation;
Ye trip it deftly on the ground,
But gain no elevation.
INQUISITIVE TRAVELLER
Can I indeed believe my eyes?
Is’t not mere masquerading?
What! Oberon in beauteous guise,
Among the groups parading!
ORTHODOX
No claws, no tail to whisk about,
To fright us at our revel;
Yet like the gods of Greece, no doubt,
He too’s a genuine devil.
NORTHERN ARTIST
These that I’m hitting off today
Are sketches unpretending;
Toward Italy without delay,
My steps I think of bending.
PURIST
Alas! ill-fortune leads me here,
Where riot still grows louder;
And ‘mong the witches gather’d here,
But two alone wear powder!
YOUNG WITCH
Your powder and your petticoat,
Suit hags, there’s no gainsaying;
Hence I sit fearless on my goat,
My naked charms displaying.
MATRON
We’re too well-bred to squabble here,
Or insult back to render;
But may you wither soon, my dear,
Although so young and tender.
LEADER OF THE BAND
Nose of fly and gnat’s proboscis,
Throng not the naked beauty!
Frogs and crickets in the mosses,
Keep time and do your duty!
WEATHERCOCK (toward one side)
What charming company I view
Together here collected!
Gay bachelors, a hopeful crew,
And brides so unaffected!
WEATHERCOCK (toward the other side)
Unless indeed the yawning ground
Should open to receive them,
From this vile crew, with sudden bound,
To Hell I’d jump and leave them.
XENIEN
With small sharp shears, in insect guise,
Behold us at your revel!
That we may tender, filial-wise,
Our homage to the devil.
HENNINGS
Look now at yonder eager crew,
How naïvely they’re jesting!
That they have tender hearts and true,
They stoutly keep protesting!
MUSAGET
Oneself amid this witchery
How pleasantly one loses;
For witches easier are to me
To govern than the Muses!
CI-DEVANT GENIUS OF THE AGE
With proper folks when we appear,
No one can then surpass us!
Keep close, wide is the Blocksberg here
As Germany’s Parnassus.
INQUISITIVE TRAVELLER
How name ye that stiff formal man,
Who strides with lofty paces?
He tracks the game where’er he can,
“He scents the Jesuits’ traces.”
CRANE
Where waters troubled are or clear,
To fish I am delighted;
Thus pious gentlemen appear
With devils here united.
WORLDLING
By pious people, it is true,
No medium is rejected;
Conventicles, and not a few,
On Blocksberg are erected.
DANCER
Another chorus now succeeds,
Far off the drums are beating.
Be still! The bitterns ‘mong the reeds
Their one note are repeating.
DANCING MASTER
Each twirls about and never stops,
And as he can he fareth.
The crooked leaps, the clumsy hops,
Nor for appearance careth.
FIDDLER
To take each other’s life, I trow,
Would cordially delight them!
As Orpheus’ lyre the beasts, so now
The bagpipe doth unite them.
DOGMATIST
My views, in spite of doubt and sneer,
I hold with stout persistence,
Inferring from the devils here,
The evil one’s existence.
IDEALIST
My every sense rules Phantasy
With sway quite too potential;
Sure I’m demented if the I
Alone is the essential.
REALIST
This entity’s a dreadful bore,
And cannot choose but vex me;
The ground beneath me ne’er before
Thus totter’d to perplex me.
SUPERNATURALIST
Well pleased assembled here I view
Of spirits this profusion;
From devils, touching angels too,
I gather some conclusion.
SCEPTIC
The ignis fatuus they track out,
And think they’re near the treasure.
Devil alliterates with doubt,
Here I abide with pleasure.
LEADER OF THE BAND
Frog and cricket in the mosses,—
Confound your gasconading!
Nose of fly and gnat’s proboscis;—
Most tuneful serenading!
THE KNOWING ONES
Sans souci, so this host we greet,
Their jovial humor showing;
There’s now no walking on our feet,
So on our heads we’re going.
THE AWKWARD ONES
In seasons past we snatch’d, ’tis true,
Some tit-bits by our cunning;
Our shoes, alas, are now danced through,
On our bare soles we’re running.
WILL-O’-THE-WISPS
From marshy bogs we sprang to light,
Yet here behold us dancing;
The gayest gallants of the night,
In glitt’ring rows advancing.
SHOOTING STAR
With rapid motion from on high,
I shot in starry splendor;
Now prostrate on the grass I lie;—
Who aid will kindly render?
THE MASSIVE ONES
Room! wheel round! They’re coming! lo!
Down sink the bending grasses.
Though spirits, yet their limbs, we know,
Are huge substantial masses.
PUCK
Don’t stamp so heavily, I pray;
Like elephants you’re treading!
And ‘mong the elves be Puck today,
The stoutest at the wedding!
ARIEL
If nature boon, or subtle sprite,
Endow your soul with pinions;—
Then follow to you rosy height,
Through ether’s calm dominions!
ORCHESTRA (pianissimo)
Drifting cloud and misty wreathes
Are fill’d with light elysian;
O’er reed and leaf the zephyr breathes—
So fades the fairy vision!
A GLOOMY DAY. A PLAIN
FAUST and MEPHISTOPHELES
FAUST
In misery! despairing! long wandering pitifully on the face of the earth and now imprisoned! This gentle hapless creature, immured in the dungeon as a malefactor and reserved for horrid tortures! That it should come to this! To this!—Perfidious, worthless spirit, and this thou hast concealed from me!—Stand! ay, stand! roll in malicious rage thy fiendish eyes! Stand and brave me with thine insupportable presence! Imprisoned! In hopeless misery! Delivered over to the power of evil spirits and the judgment of unpitying humanity!—And me, the while, thou went lulling with tasteless dissipations, concealing from me her growing anguish, and leaving her to perish without help!
MEPHISTOPHELES
She is not the first.
FAUST
Hound! Execrable monster!—Back with him, oh thou infinite spirit! back with the reptile into his dog’s shape, in which it was his wont to scamper before me at eventide, to roll before the feet of the harmless wanderer, and to fasten on his shoulders when he fell! Change him again into his favorite shape, that he may crouch on his belly before me in the dust, whilst I spurn him with my foot, the reprobate!—Not the first!—Woe! Woe! By no human soul is it conceivable, that more than one human creature has ever sunk into a depth of wretchedness like this, or that the first in her writhing death-agony should not have atoned in the sight of all-pardoning Heaven for the guilt of all the rest! The misery of this one pierces me to the very marrow, and harrows up my soul; thou art grinning calmly over the doom of thousands!
MEPHISTOPHELES
Now we are once again at our wit’s end, just where the reason of you mortals snaps! Why dost thou seek our fellowship, if thou canst not go through with it? Wilt fly, and art not proof against dizziness? Did we force ourselves on thee, or thou on us?
FAUST
Cease thus to gnash thy ravenous fangs at me! I loathe thee!—Great and glorious spirit, thou who didst vouchsafe to reveal thyself unto me, thou who dost know my very heart and soul, why hast thou linked me with this base associate, who feeds on mischief and revels in destruction?
MEPHISTOPHELES
Hast done?
FAUST
Save her!—or woe to thee! The direst of curses on thee for thousands of years!
MEPHISTOPHELES
I cannot loose the bands of the avenger, nor withdraw his bolts.—Save her!—Who was it plunged her into perdition? I or thou?
FAUST (looks wildly around)
MEPHISTOPHELES
Would’st grasp the thunder? Well for you, poor mortals, that ’tis not yours to wield! To smite to atoms the being, however innocent, who obstructs his path, such is the tyrant’s fashion of relieving himself in difficulties!
FAUST
Convey me thither! She shall be free!
MEPHISTOPHELES
And the danger to which thou dost expose thyself? Know, the guilt of blood, shed by thy hand, lies yet upon the town. Over the place where fell the murdered one, avenging spirits hover and watch for the returning murderer.
FAUST
This too from thee? The death and downfall of a world be on thee, monster! Conduct me thither, I say and set her free!
MEPHISTOPHELES
I will conduct thee. And what I can do,—hear! Have I all power in heaven and upon earth? I’ll cloud the senses of the warder,—do thou possess thyself of the keys and lead her forth with human hand! I will keep watch! The magic steeds are waiting, I bear thee off. Thus much is in my power.
FAUST
Up and away!
NIGHT. OPEN COUNTRY
FAUST. MEPHISTOPHELES
(Rushing along on black horses)
FAUST
What weave they yonder round the Ravenstone?
MEPHISTOPHELES
I know not what they shape and brew.
FAUST
They’re soaring, swooping, bending, stooping.
MEPHISTOPHELES
A witches’ pack.
FAUST
They charm, they strew.
MEPHISTOPHELES
On! On!
DUNGEON
FAUST (with a bunch of keys and a lamp before a small iron door)
A fear unwonted o’er my spirit falls;
Man’s concentrated woe o’erwhelms me here!
She dwells immur’d within these dripping walls;
Her only trespass a delusion dear!
Thou lingerest at the fatal door?
Thou dread’st to see her face once more?
On! While thou dalliest, draws her death-hour near.
[He seizes the lock. Singing within.]
My mother, the harlot,
She took me and slew!
My father, the scoundrel,
Hath eaten me too!
My sweet little sister
Hath all my bones laid,
Where soft breezes whisper
All in the cool shade!
Then became I a wood-bird, and sang on the spray,
Fly away! little bird, fly away! fly away!
FAUST (opening the lock)
Ah! she forebodes not that her lover’s near, The clanking chains, the rustling straw, to hear. [He enters.]
MARGARET (hiding her face in the bed of straw)
Woe! woe! they come! oh bitter ’tis to die!
FAUST (Softly)
Hush! hush! be still! I come to set thee free.
MARGARET (throwing herself at his feet)
If thou art human, feel my misery!
FAUST
Thou wilt awake the jailer with thy cry!
[He grasps the chains to unlock them.]
MARGARET (on her knees)
Who, headsman, unto thee this power
O’er me could give?
Thou com’st for me at midnight-hour.
Be merciful, and let me live!
Is morrow’s dawn not time enough?
[She stands up.]
I’m still so young, so young—
And must so early die!
Fair was I too, and that was my undoing.
My love is now afar, he then was nigh;
Tom lies the garland, the fair blossoms strew’d.
Nay, seize me not with hand so rude!
Spare me! What harm have I e’er done to thee?
Oh let me not in vain implore!
I ne’er have seen thee in my life before!
FAUST
Can I endure this bitter agony?
MARGARET
I now am at thy mercy quite.
Let me my babe but suckle once again!
I fondled it the live-long night;
They took it from me but to give me pain,
And now, they say that I my child have slain.
Gladness I ne’er again shall know.
Then they sing songs about me,—’tis wicked of the throng—
An ancient ballad endeth so;
Who bade them thus apply the song?
FAUST (throwing himself on the ground)
A lover at thy feet bends low,
To loose the bonds of wretchedness and woe.
MARGARET (throws herself beside him)
Oh, let us kneel and move the saints by prayer!
Look! look! yon stairs below,
Under the threshold there,
Hell’s flames are all aglow!
Beneath the floor,
With hideous noise,
The devils roar!
FAUST (aloud)
Gretchen! Gretchen!
MARGARET (listening)
That was my lov’d one’s voice!
[She springs up, the chains fall off.]
Where is he? I heard him calling me.
Free am I! There’s none shall hinder me.
To his neck will I fly,
On his bosom will lie!
Gretchen, he called!—On yon threshold he stood;
Amidst all the howling of hell’s fiery flood,
The scoff and the scorn of its devilish crew,
The tones of his voice, sweet and loving, I knew.
FAUST
‘Tis I!
MARGARET
‘Tis thou! O say so once again!
[embracing him.]
‘Tis he! ‘Tis he! where’s now the torturing pain?
Where are the fetters? where the dungeon’s gloom?
‘Tis thou! To save me thou art come!
And I am sav’d!—
Already now the street I see
Where the first time I caught a glimpse of thee.
There to the pleasant garden shade,
Where I and Martha for thy coming stay’d.
FAUST (endeavoring to lead her away)
Come! come away!
MARGARET
Oh do not haste!
I love to linger where thou stayest. [caressing him.]
FAUST
Ah haste! For if thou still delayest,
Our lingering we shall both deplore.
MARGARET
How, dearest? canst thou kiss no more!
So short a time away from me, and yet,
To kiss thou couldst so soon forget!
Why on thy neck so anxious do I feel—
When formerly a perfect heaven of bliss
From thy dear looks and words would o’er me steal?
As thou wouldst stifle me thou then didst kiss!—
Kiss me!
Or I’ll kiss thee! [She embraces him.]
Woe! woe! Thy lips are cold,—
Are dumb!
Thy love where hast thou left?
Who hath me of thy love bereft?
[She turns away from him.]
FAUST
Come! Follow me, my dearest love, be bold!
I’ll cherish thee with ardor thousand-fold;
I but entreat thee now to follow me!
MARGARET (turning toward him)
And art thou he? and art thou really he?
FAUST
‘Tis I! Oh come!
MARGARET
Thou wilt strike off my chain,
And thou wilt take me to thine arms again.
How comes it that thou dost not shrink from me?—
And dost thou know, love, whom thou wouldst set free?
FAUST
Come! come! already night begins to wane.
MARGARET
I sent my mother to her grave,
I drown’d my child beneath the wave.
Was it not given to thee and me—thee too?
‘Tis thou thyself! I scarce believe it yet.
Give me thy hand! It is no dream! ‘Tis true!
Thine own dear hand!—But how is this? ‘Tis wet!
Quick, wipe it off! Meseems that yet
There’s blood thereon.
Ah God! what hast thou done?
Put up thy sword,
I beg of thee!
FAUST
Oh, dearest, let the past forgotten be!
Death is in every word.
MARGARET
No, thou must linger here in sorrow!
The graves I will describe to thee,
And thou to them must see
Tomorrow:
The best place give to my mother,
Close at her side my brother,
Me at some distance lay—
But not too far away!
And the little one place on my right breast.
Nobody else will near me lie!
To nestle beside thee so lovingly,
That was a rapture, gracious and sweet!
A rapture I never again shall prove;
Methinks I would force myself on thee, love,
And thou dost spurn me, and back retreat—
Yet ’tis thyself, thy fond kind looks I see.
FAUST
If thou dost feel ’tis I, then come with me!
MARGARET
What, there? without?
FAUST
Yes, forth in the free air.
MARGARET
Ay, if the grave’s without,—If death lurk there!
Hence to the everlasting resting-place,
And not one step beyond!—Thou’rt leaving me?
Oh Henry! would that I could go with thee!
FAUST
Thou canst! But will it! Open stands the door.
MARGARET
I dare not go! I’ve naught to hope for more.
What boots it to escape? They lurk for me!
‘Tis wretched to beg, as I must do,
And with an evil conscience thereto!
‘Tis wretched, in foreign lands to stray;
And me they will catch, do what I may!
FAUST
With thee will I abide.
MARGARET
Quick! Quick!
Save thy poor child!
Keep to the path
The brook along,
Over the bridge
To the wood beyond,
To the left, where the plank is,
In the pond.
Seize it at once!
It fain would rise,
It struggles still!
Save it. Oh save!
FAUST
Dear Gretchen, more collected be!
One little step, and thou art free!
MARGARET
Were we but only past the hill
There sits my mother upon a stone—
My brain, alas, is cold with dread!—
There sits my mother upon a stone,
And to and fro she shakes her head;
She winks not, she nods not, her head it droops sore;
She slept so long, she waked no more;
She slept, that we might taste of bliss:
Ah I those were happy times, I wis!
FAUST
Since here avails nor argument nor prayer,
Thee hence by force I needs must bear.
MARGARET
Loose me! I will not suffer violence!
With murderous hand hold not so fast!
I have done all to please thee in the past!
FAUST
Day dawns! My love! My love!
MARGARET
Yes! day draws near,
The day of judgment too will soon appear!
It should have been my bridal! No one tell,
That thy poor Gretchen thou hast known too well.
Woe to my garland!
Its bloom is o’er!
Though not at the dance—
We shall meet once more.
The crowd doth gather, in silence it rolls;
The squares, the streets,
Scarce hold the throng.
The staff is broken,—the death-bell tolls,—
They bind and seize me! I’m hurried along,
To the seat of blood already I’m bound!
Quivers each neck as the naked steel
Quivers on mine the blow to deal—
The silence of the grave now broods around!
FAUST
Would I had ne’er been born!
MEPHISTOPHELES (appears without)
Up! or you’re lost.
Vain hesitation! Babbling, quaking!
My steeds are shivering,
Morn is breaking.
MARGARET
What from the floor ascendeth like a ghost?
‘Tis he! ‘Tis he! Him from my presence chase!
What would he in this holy place?
It is for me he cometh!
FAUST
Thou shalt live!
MARGARET
Judgment of God! To thee my soul I give!
MEPHISTOPHELES (to FAUST)
Come, come! With her I’ll else abandon thee!
MARGARET
Father, I’m thine! Do thou deliver me!
Ye angels! Ye angelic hosts! descend,
Encamp around to guard me and defend!—
Henry! I shudder now to look on thee!
MEPHISTOPHELES
She now is judged!
VOICES (from above)
Is saved!
MEPHISTOPHELES (to FAUST)
Come thou with me!
[vanishes with FAUST.]
VOICE (from within, dying away)
Henry! Henry!
END OF PART I.
FAUST—SELECTIONS FROM PART II (1832)
ACT THE FIRST
A PLEASING LANDSCAPE
FAUST, reclining upon flowery turf, restless, seeking sleep
TWILIGHT
Circle of spirits, hovering, flit around;—Graceful, tiny forms.
ARIEL
Song, accompanied by Æolian harps
When, in vernal showers descending,
Blossoms gently veil the earth,
When the fields’ green wealth, up-tending,
Gleams on all of mortal birth;
Tiny elves, where help availeth,
Large of heart, there fly apace;
Pity they whom grief assaileth,
Be he holy, be he base.
Ye round this head on airy wing careering,
Attend, in noble Elfin guise appearing;
Assuage the cruel strife that rends his heart,
The burning shaft remove of keen remorse,
From rankling horror cleanse his inmost part:
Four are the pauses of the nightly course;
Them, without rest, fill up with kindly art.
And first his head upon cool pillow lay,
Then bathe ye him in dew from Lethe’s stream;
His limbs, cramp-stiffen’d, will more freely play,
If sleep-refreshed he wait morn’s wakening beam.
Perform the noblest Elfin-rite,
Restore ye him to the holy light!
CHORUS (singly, two or more, alternately and together)
Softly when warm gales are stealing
O’er the green-environed ground,
Twilight sheddeth all-concealing
Mists and balmy odors round:
Whispers low sweet peace to mortals,
Rocks the heart to childlike rest,
And of day-light shuts the portals
To these eyes, with care oppressed.
Night hath now descended darkling,
Holy star is linked to star;
Sovereign fires, or faintly sparkling,
Glitter near and shine afar;
Glitter here lake-mirror’d, yonder
Shine adown the clear night sky;
Sealing bliss of perfect slumber,
Reigns the moon’s full majesty.
Now the hours are cancelled; sorrow,
Happiness, have passed away:
Whole thou shalt be on the morrow!
Feel it! Trust the new-born day!
Swell the hills, green grow the valleys,
In the dusk ere breaks the morn;
And in silvery wavelets dallies,
With the wind, the ripening corn.
Cherish hope, let naught appall thee!
Mark the East, with splendor dyed!
Slight the fetters that enthrall thee;
Fling the shell of sleep aside!
Gird thee for the high endeavor;
Shun the crowd’s ignoble ease!
Fails the noble spirit never,
Wise to think, and prompt to seize.
[A tremendous tumult announces the uprising of the Sun.]
ARIEL
Hark, the horal tempest nears,
Sounding but for spirit ears,
Lo! the new-born day appears;
Clang the rocky portals, climb
Phoebus’ wheels with thund’rous chime:
Breaks with tuneful noise the light!
Blare of trumpet, clarion sounding,
Eye-sight dazing, ear astounding!
Hear not the unheard; take flight!
Into petaled blossoms glide
Deeper, deeper, still to bide,
In the clefts, ‘neath thickets! ye,
If it strike you, deaf will be.
FAUST
Life’s pulses reawakened freshly bound,
The mild ethereal twilight fain to greet.
Thou, Earth, this night wast also constant found,
And, newly-quickened, breathing at my feet,
Beginnest now to gird me with delight;
A strong resolve dost rouse, with noble heat
Aye to press on to being’s sovereign height.
The world in glimmering dawn still folded lies;
With thousand-voicèd life the woods resound;
Mist-wreaths the valley shroud; yet from the skies
Sinks heaven’s clear radiance to the depths profound;
And bough and branch from dewy chasms rise,
Where they had drooped erewhile in slumber furled;
Earth is enamelled with unnumber’d dyes,
Leaflet and flower with dew-drops are impearled;
Around me everywhere is paradise.
Gaze now aloft! Each mountain’s giant height
The solemn hour announces, herald-wise;
They early may enjoy the eternal light,
To us below which later finds its way.
Now are the Alpine slopes and valleys dight
With the clear radiance of the new-born day,
Which, downward, step by step, steals on
apace.—It blazes forth,—and, blinded by the ray,
With aching eyes, alas! I veil my face.
So when a hope, the heart hath long held fast,
Trustful, still striving toward its highest goal,
Fulfilment’s portals open finds at
last;—Sudden from those eternal depths doth roll
An over-powering flame;—we stand aghast!
The torch of life to kindle we were
fain;—A fire-sea,—what a fire!—doth round us close;
Love is it? Is it hate? with joy and pain,
In alternation vast, that round us glows?
So that to earth we turn our wistful gaze,
In childhood’s veil to shroud us once again!
So let the sun behind me pour its rays!
The cataract, through rocky cleft that roars,
I view, with growing rapture and amaze.
From fall to fall, with eddying shock, it pours,
In thousand torrents to the depths below,
Aloft in air up-tossing showers of spray.
But see, in splendor bursting from the storm,
Arches itself the many-colored bow,
And ever-changeful, yet continuous form,
Now drawn distinctly, melting now away,
Diffusing dewy coolness all around!
Man’s efforts there are glassed, his toil and strife;
Reflect, more true the emblem will be found:
This bright reflected glory pictures life!