Faust. A Tragedy

Translated by John R. Williams

DEDICATION

Once more I sense uncertain shapes appearing,

Dimly perceived in days of youth long past.

Now in my heart I feel the moment nearing

When I can hold those phantom figures fast.

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The haze and mist that swallowed them is clearing,

They gather round me, bodied forth at last.

Within me now a youthful passion surges

As from a magic spell their throng emerges.

They bring back scenes of youthful jubilation,

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And with them many well-loved shades appear;

A half-forgotten distant intimation

Of those in early times I held so dear.

The grief returns, once more the lamentation

Of life’s obscure and wayward course I hear

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For those capricious fortune cruelly treated,

Who all too soon of joy and life were cheated.

They cannot hear the songs within these pages,

Those souls to whom I sang; I sing alone.

That friendly throng was scattered to the ages,

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And those first echoes on the wind were blown.

My sorrow now the stranger’s mind engages,

Whose praise I cannot in my heart condone;

And some by whose applause my gifts were flattered,

If they still live, to the world’s ends are scattered.

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And now I feel a long-forgotten yearning;

That solemn, quiet world calls me once more,

Its spirit music to my lips returning

Like the Aeolian harp’s uncertain chord.

I tremble, and my cheeks with tears are burning,

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The stern heart softens, melted to its core.

What I possess now vanishes before me,

And what was lost alone has substance for me.

PRELUDE ON THE STAGE

DIRECTOR, POET, CLOWN

DIRECTOR. You two have stood beside me now

For years and shared my troubles all the way.

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I’d like to have your views on how

To make our mark in Germany today.

I want to entertain the crowd out there—

They put up with an awful lot, you know.

The posts and boards are up, so let’s prepare

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To give the audience a proper show.

They’re all agog and sitting patiently,

Something spectacular is what they want to see.

How to please the public—that’s the test,

But nowadays I find I’m in a fix;

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I know they’re not accustomed to the best,

But they’ve all read so much they know the tricks.

How can we give them something fresh and new

That’s serious, but entertaining too?

I love to see a crowd of people pour

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Into the theatre like rolling waves,

And painfully like new-born babes

Squeeze themselves through that narrow door;

At four o’clock, in broad daylight,

Breaking their necks to get a seat,

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Pushing and shoving as they fight

Like starving beggars for a piece of meat.

And who can work this miracle? I say

The poet can: my friend, do it today!

POET. Don’t talk to me about the many-headed,

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My spirit fails me at the very sight.

Preserve me from that motley mob, the dreaded

Rabble that puts poetry to flight.

The poet to the silent Muse is wedded,

In heavenly peace he finds his true delight,

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Where love and friendship godlike forge and cherish

The blessings of the heart that never perish.

And what our hearts from deep within created

Or what our timid lips had sought to say,

No matter if it’s good or bad, is fated

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To be forgotten in the present fray,

And only when the tide of time’s abated

Appears in its true form another day.

What glitters for the moment is but passing;

Posterity will value what is lasting.

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CLOWN. I don’t want to hear about posterity!

And even if I did, what’s it to me?

It’s here and now they want to have some fun,

That’s what they like, what they’re entitled to.

That’s just the sort of thing a lad like me can do—

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It’s what I’m best at, when all’s said and done.

If you can get across to them, then you can cope

With anything the audience throws at you,

And a full house will give you much more scope

To entertain them—and to move them, too.

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So don’t be shy and write a proper play.

Let your imagination weave its magic spell,

Let sense and reason, love and passion have their say—

But let us have a bit of fun as well.

DIRECTOR. But most of all, put in a lot of action!

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That’s how to get your audience satisfaction—

Don’t give them an excuse for getting bored.

They like to see things happen on the stage;

Just keep them happy, you’ll get your reward—

They’ll love you, you’ll be all the rage.

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A lot of people like a lot of stuff

To choose from, and they have to be presented

With a spectacle that has enough

For everyone—then they’ll go home contented.

Let’s have a play that plays to every taste!

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It’s easy to concoct a tasty stew.

Get busy with your scissors and your paste;

Don’t try to get it perfect—if you do,

The public will demolish it for you.

POET. You’ve no idea what it does to me

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To prostitute my talents in this way;

You want the sort of rubbish you can see

In any West-End theatre every day.

DIRECTOR. I’m not offended by such taunts as these;

I want to put a show on that will run,

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And I don’t really care much how it’s done.

The public isn’t difficult to please;

Just try to keep your audience in mind.

Some of them come here simply to unwind,

Some have just stuffed themselves with food;

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And if they’ve read the papers, then you’ll find

They can be in a very nasty mood.

These people don’t want anything too arty,

They come because they’re curious to know

What’s on; the women think they’re at a party,

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Parading around—it’s all part of the show.

Why are you poets all such dreamers, though?

Doesn’t a full house give you a big thrill?

Just take a close look at our patrons, and you’ll know

Some don’t appreciate us, others never will.

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After the play they’ll trot off to some gambling den,

Look forward to a wild night with their floozies.

You needn’t look too far for inspiration, then—

I don’t know why you bother the poor Muses.

I tell you, give them lots and lots of action

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And rivet their attention, that’s the way.

They only want a few hours of distraction—

You’ll never satisfy them anyway.

Now what’s the matter? Are we having a contraction?

POET. Oh, go and find yourself another slave!

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You want the poet to betray his Muse?

The highest birthright nature ever gave

You’d have him wantonly abuse?

How does the poet move all people’s hearts?

Command the elements with all his arts?

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It is the harmony that dwells within us

So that the whole world is reflected in us.

When nature’s spindle twists the thread of ages,

Indifferently she spins the endless strand,

And when the world’s discordant clamour rages

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In dire confusion none can understand—

Who then enlivens that monotony

And makes it pulse with rhythmic motion?

Who summons every voice, united in devotion,

And blends them into glorious harmony?

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Who makes the furious tempest rage and sing,

Gives solemn meaning to the sunset glow?

Who scatters all the lovely flowers of spring

At the beloved’s feet wherever she may go?

Who weaves the modest laurel leaves that crown

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The heads of those whose deeds set them apart?

Preserves Olympus and the gods’ renown?

Man’s power, embodied in the poet’s art!

CLOWN. Why don’t you use them then, these splendid powers?

Let’s see them in this theatre of ours!

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Approach your story like a love-affair;

You meet, you feel attracted, so you hang around,

And gradually you find you really care.

Of course, you’ll find it has its ups and downs;

There’s pain and pleasure, if you’re truly smitten—

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Before you can turn round, you’ll have a novel written.

That’s the kind of play we ought to give—

The whole parade of life that people live!

Plunge in and take it as it is, and you

Can offer something interesting and new.

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Some vivid scenes, a measure of illusion,

A grain of truth and plenty of confusion,

That’s the surest way to mix a brew

To please them all—and teach them something, too.

Our finest youth will flock to see your play,

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Expecting some momentous revelation;

Their melancholy minds will soak up what you say

And in your words they’ll find sweet consolation.

Arouse their feelings for them, and reveal

Their own emotions—that’s what will appeal.

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They’re young enough to move to tears or laughter,

Excitement and illusion’s what they’re after.

You’ll never please the older ones, I know—

Impressionable minds will love it, though.

POET. Then give me back the time when I was young,

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When all my life before me lay,

A constant stream of words and song

Burst from my lips with every passing day,

When clouds of glory hid the world from view,

And budding youth still found it all so new;

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When flowers in thousands seemed to fill

The fields for me to gather them at will.

Though I had nothing, what I had was this:

The urge for truth, delight in make-believe.

Give me those passions back, let me retrieve

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The keenest pangs of adolescent bliss,

Extremes of love and hate, of joy and pain—

Give me back my youth again!

CLOWN. Such youthful energy, my friend, you’ll find

Is needed in the frantic heat of war,

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Or when some pretty girl might feel inclined

To take you in her arms and ask for more;

Or in the race before your weary eyes

You see the finish and the winner’s prize,

Or when the whirling dance is at an end

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You spend the night carousing with a friend.

But if you’ve confidence enough to play

A graceful tune and let us hear your voice,

Or let your pleasant fancy stray

Towards a destination of your choice—

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That is a task for the maturer man,

And we respect you for it all the more.

They say age makes us childish—but it can

Make truer children of us than before.

DIRECTOR. You’ve bandied words enough, now let me see

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Some action from you both for once.

We could have spent the time more usefully

While you two were exchanging compliments.

What’s all this talk of inspiration in the end?

You can’t just sit and hope it might descend.

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If you’re a poet, as you claim to be,

Get on with it and write some poetry.

You know exactly what we have to do—

To give them something with a kick in it,

So hurry up and make a decent brew.

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Don’t leave it till tomorrow, stick at it—

Today will pass you by before you know.

You’ve got to grab your chance, or else it’s gone,

It doesn’t come round twice, so don’t be slow,

And once you’ve taken it, don’t let it go;

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That’s the only way to get things done.

On German stages, everybody knows,

They like to try out anything that goes;

And so today let’s have some splendid scenery

And plenty of spectacular machinery.

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We’ll have the sun and moon—use all the lights—

And lots of stars, as many as you want,

Fire, water, rocky mountain heights,

And birds and animals—just be extravagant.

This narrow stage is wide enough to gird about

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The whole of God’s creation. Very well:

Go carefully but quickly—measure out

The way from heaven through the world to hell.

PROLOGUE IN HEAVEN

The LORD, the Heavenly Host, then MEPHISTOPHELES.
The three Archangels step forward.

RAPHAEL. With choirs of kindred spheres competing,

The sun intones its ancient sound,

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And runs its thunderous course, completing

Its preordained diurnal round.

This vision none has comprehended,

Though angels quicken at the sight;

These high and wondrous works are splendid

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As when the world first shone with light.

GABRIEL. The earth in majesty rotating

Spins on itself as swift as light,

Celestial radiance alternating

With dread impenetrable night.

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In rocky depths the foaming ocean

Surges with elemental force,

Swept on by the eternal motion

That speeds the worlds upon their course.

MICHAEL. And mighty tempests rage unceasing

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From sea to land, from land to sea,

A furious clash of power, releasing

A chain of vast causality.

Before the crash of rolling thunder

The flashing bolts blaze out the way;

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But we, thy angels, watch with wonder

The peaceful progress of thy day.

ALL THREE. Thy vision none has comprehended,

Though angels quicken at the sight;

Thy mighty works, O Lord, are splendid

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As when the world first shone with light.

MEPHISTO. Since, Lord, you deign to visit us once more

To find out how we manage our affairs,

And since you’ve often welcomed me before,

I’ve come to join your household staff upstairs.

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I’m not much good at lofty words, I fear,

It doesn’t worry me if they all sneer.

Pathos from me would make you laugh—although

I know you gave up laughing long ago.

I can’t sing hymns about the universe,

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I only see how people go from bad to worse.

He hasn’t changed, your little god on earth—

He’s still peculiar as the day you gave him birth.

He’d live a better life, at least,

If you’d not given him a glimpse of heaven’s light.

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He calls it reason—which gives him the right

To be more bestial than any beast.

Saving your gracious presence, Sire, I’d say

He’s like a silly grasshopper in the hay.

He chirps and sings and flitters to and fro,

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And chirps the same old song and jumps about;

If only he were satisfied with that—but no,

In every pile of filth he dips his snout.

THE LORD. Why are you telling me all this again?

Do you always come here to complain?

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Could there be something good on earth that you’ve forgotten?

MEPHISTO. No, Lord! I’m pleased to say it’s still completely rotten.

I feel quite sorry for their miserable plight;

When it’s as bad as that, tormenting them’s not right.

THE LORD. Do you know Faust?

MEPHISTO.   The Doctor?

THE LORD.     Yes—my servant.

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MEPHISTO. He serves you in a very curious way indeed.

It isn’t earthly nourishment he seems to need;

His fevered mind is in a constant ferment.

Half-conscious of his folly, in his pride

On all the joys of earth he wants to feed,

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And pluck from heaven the very brightest star.

He searches high and low, and yet however far

He roams, his restless heart returns dissatisfied.

THE LORD. Though in confusion still he seeks his way,

Yet I will lead him to the light one day.

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For in the budding sapling the gardener can see

The promise of the fruit upon the full-grown tree.

MEPHISTO. What would you wager? Will you challenge me

To win him from you? Give me your permission

To lead him down my path to his perdition?

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THE LORD. While he’s on earth, while he is still alive,

Then you may tempt him—that is my condition.

For man will err as long as he can strive.

MEPHISTO. I take up your kind offer, Sire, most gratefully;

The dead are of no interest to me.

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I like them fresh and full of life, well fed.

A corpse is very boring; I’m like a cat, you see—

It’s no fun once the mouse is dead.

THE LORD. Well then, it shall be left to you.

Entice this spirit from its primal source,

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And drag him down, if you are able to,

Upon your own infernal course;

With shame you will confess to me one day,

A good man, though his instincts be obscure,

Is still quite conscious of the proper way.

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MEPHISTO. So be it! And it won’t take long, I’m sure.

I have no doubts about my wager, none—

And I will come before you when it’s done,

Triumphant with the glory that I’ve won.

He shall eat dust, and on his belly I will make

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Him go, like my old aunt, the celebrated snake.

THE LORD. I give you freedom to appear at will;

For you and for your kind I feel no hate.

Of all the spirits of denial and of ill,

Such rogues as you I can well tolerate.

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For man’s activity can slacken all too fast,

He falls too soon into a slothful ease;

The Devil’s a companion who will tease

And spur him on, and work creatively at last.

But you, true sons of God, attend your duty:

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Rejoice in rich creation’s living beauty!

The vital process that eternally informs

All things, embrace you with the bonds that love has wrought;

To what appears in evanescent forms

Give substance with the lasting power of thought.

Heaven closes, the Archangels disperse

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MEPHISTO. I like to drop in on him if I can,

Just to keep things between us on the level.

It’s really decent of the Grand Old Man

To be so civil to the very Devil.

THE FIRST PART OF THE TRAGEDY

Night. In a high-vaulted narrow Gothic room

FAUST sits restlessly at his desk.

FAUST. Medicine, and Law, and Philosophy—

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You’ve worked your way through every school,

Even, God help you, Theology,

And sweated at it like a fool.

Why labour at it any more?

You’re no wiser now than you were before.

360

You’re Master of Arts, and Doctor too,

And for ten years all you’ve been able to do

Is lead your students a fearful dance

Through a maze of error and ignorance.

And all this misery goes to show

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There’s nothing we can ever know.

Oh yes, you’re brighter than all those relics,

Professors and Doctors, scribblers and clerics;

No doubts or scruples to trouble you,

Defying hell, and the Devil too.

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But there’s no joy in self-delusion;

Your search for truth ends in confusion.

Don’t imagine your teaching will ever raise

The minds of men or change their ways.

And as for worldly wealth, you’ve none—

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What honour or glory have you won?

A dog could stand this life no more.

And so I’ve turned to magic lore;

The spirit message of this art

Some secret knowledge might impart.

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No longer shall I sweat to teach

What always lay beyond my reach;

I’ll know what makes the world revolve,

Its inner mysteries resolve,

No more in empty words I’ll deal—

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Creation’s wellsprings I’ll reveal!

Sweet moonlight, shining full and clear

Why do you light my torture here?

How often have you seen me toil,

Burning last drops of midnight oil.

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On books and papers as I read,

My friend, your mournful light you shed.

If only I could flee this den

And walk the mountain-tops again,

Through moonlit meadows make my way,

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In mountain caves with spirits play—

Released from learning’s musty cell,

Your healing dew would make me well!

But no, you’re stuck inside this lair,

In this accursed dungeon, where

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The very light of heaven can pass

But dimly through the painted glass.

Immured behind a pile of books,

Motheaten, dusty, in the reek

Of papers stuffed in all these nooks—

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This is the wisdom that you seek.

These jars and cases row on row,

Retorts and tubes and taps and gauges,

The useless junk of bygone ages—

This is the only world you know!

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And still you wonder why this pain

Constricts your heart and hems it in,

Why agonies you can’t explain

Sap all life’s energies within?

When God created us, he founded

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His living nature for our home;

But you sit in this gloom, surrounded

By mildewed skull and arid bone.

Escape into a wider sphere!

This book of secrets will provide

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The magic writings of the Seer;

Let Nostradamus be your guide.

If nature helps us, we can seek

The paths the stars in heaven go;

Through her we have the power to know

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How spirits unto spirits speak.

Your dusty learning can’t expound

The magic symbols written here.

The spirits hover close around:

Now answer me, if you can hear!

He opens the book and sees the Sign of the Macrocosm

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Ah, what ecstatic joy at this great sight

I feel at once through all my senses flowing!

What vital happiness, what sheer delight

Through veins and nerves with youthful passion glowing.

Was it a god that wrote these signs for me?

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The raging in my soul is stilled,

My empty heart with joy is filled,

And through some urgent mystery

All nature’s forces are revealed.

Am I a god? My mind’s so clear!

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With mystic vision now I see concealed

In these pure symbols nature’s rich activity.

At last I grasp the wisdom of the Seer:

‘The spirit world is with us still,

Your mind is closed, your heart is dead.

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Up, worldly scholar, drink your fill—

At heaven’s gate the dawn is red!’

He studies the Sign

How all into a wholeness weaves,

Each in the other moves and lives!

The powers of heaven ascending and descending,

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And to each other golden vessels sending,

With fragrant blessings winging,

From heaven to earth their bounty bringing—

In harmony the universe is ringing!

Ah, what a vision! But a vision, and no more.

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I do not feel the pulse of nature, nor

Feed at her breasts. The springs of life that nursed

All things, for which creation yearns,

To which the flagging spirit turns,

They flow, they suckle still, but I must thirst!

Disconsolately he turns the pages and sees the Sign of the Earth Spirit

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I see more inspiration in this sign!

Earth Spirit, we are of a kind.

I feel new energies, my mind

Now glows as if from new-fermented wine.

Now I can dare to face the world again,

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To share in all its joy and all its pain.

Into the eye of storms I’ll set my sail,

And in the grinding shipwreck I’ll not quail.

Clouds gather overhead,

The moon conceals its light!

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The lamp burns low!

Mist swirls around! Red flashes flicker

About my head. A chill shiver

Blows down from the vault above

And grips me!

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I feel your presence round me,

Great Spirit, you have found me—

Reveal yourself!

It tears my heart, my senses reel

And burn with passions new. I feel

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My heart goes out to you, I have no fear;

If it should cost my life, you must appear!

He seizes the book and with mysterious words invokes the Sign of the Earth Spirit.

A red flame flickers, the Spirit appears in the flame.

SPIRIT. Who calls me?

FFAUST. [turning away] A dreadful shape I see!

SPIRIT. Your potent spells have brought me here;

You sought to draw me from my sphere,

And now—

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FAUST.  You are too terrible for me!

SPIRIT. With sighs you begged me to appear,

My voice you would hear and my face you would see;

Your mighty pleas have summoned me.

I’m here! But now—what piteous fear

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Has seized you, superman? The soul that cried for me, where

Is it now? The heart that in itself could bear

A whole created world, and in its swollen pride

Puffed up, with us, the spirits, would have vied?

Where are you, Faust, whose voice reached to my sphere,

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Who summoned all your powers to draw me here?

This is you? who scarcely felt my breath,

And quake as if you go to meet your death,

A frightened worm that twists and writhes!

FAUST. Creature of flame, to you I’ll not give in;

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I, Faust, I am your equal, am your kin!

SPIRIT. In all life’s storms and surging tides

I ebb and flow

From birth to grave,

Weave to and fro,

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An endless wave

Through all life’s glowing

Fabric flowing.

On time’s humming loom, as I toil at the treads,

For God’s living garment I fashion the threads.

FAUST. Industrious spirit, to the world’s furthest end

You rove; how close you seem to me!

SPIRIT. You match the spirit that you comprehend,

[vanishes

Not me!

FAUST. [shattered] Not you?

Who then?

I, made in God’s image,

No match for you?

A knock at the door

Oh death! It’s my assistant at the door.

To turn my highest bliss into despair,

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Dissolve these teeming visions into air,

It only needs that plodding bore.

WAGNER in nightgown and nightcap, holding a lamp.

FAUST reluctantly turns to him.

WAGNER. Forgive me, but I heard your voice—

It sounded like a tragedy in Greek.

That is an art that I would learn by choice.

525

These days one has to know just how to speak

One’s lines; an actor, people often say, could teach

A parson in the art of how to preach.

FAUST. Why, surely—if the parson’s only acting,

And many times I daresay that’s the case.

530

WAGNER. But all this study I find so distracting;

One scarcely sees the world beyond this place,

And only from afar—so how can all our arts

Of eloquent persuasion guide men’s hearts?

FAUST. If you don’t feel, your words will not inspire;

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Unless from deep within you speak sincere,

And with a charismatic fire

Compel the hearts of all who hear.

Oh, you can sit there glueing bits together

Or mixing cold leftovers in a stew,

540

Blowing at the ashes, wondering whether

There’s any fire left to warm your brew.

Yes—fools and children you’ll impress—

If that is really what you want to do;

But you will never know another’s heart, unless

545

You are prepared to give yours too.

WAGNER. A good delivery can help the speaker, though;

I feel there’s still so much I ought to know.

FAUST. Speak honestly, speak from the heart!

Your foolish tricks are all in vain!

550

Good sense and reason—they don’t need the art

Of eloquence to make their meaning plain.

If with sincerity you speak,

Why, then for words you need not seek.

The dazzling rhetoric a speaker spins,

555

The frills and flourishes with which he weaves

His spell, are all as barren as the frosty winds

That play among the arid autumn leaves.

WAGNER. Ah God, but art is long,

And short our life’s duration!

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In all my critical deliberation

I often fear the way I chose was wrong.

How hard it is to get the method right

To follow learning to its very source;

Before we’re half-way through our course

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We’ll surely die and never reach the light.

FAUST. The manuscripts, are they the sacred springs

From which one drink will slake your thirst for ever?

You’ll find no profit in these things

Unless your own heart flows with fresh endeavour.

570

WAGNER. Forgive me, but it’s such delight

To bring the spirit of the past to light,

To study all the thoughts of history’s wisest men—

And marvel at the progress we have made since then.

FAUST. Oh yes, we’ve reached the stars! And yet

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The past, my friend, by which you set

Such store, is a book with seven seals to us.

It is a mirror that reveals to us

Only the minds of those who seek

This spirit of the past of which you speak.

580

Believe me, all you’ll find is bunk,

A lumber-room stuffed full of junk,

At best a blood-and-thunder play

From which most audiences would run away;

A catalogue of pompous commonplaces,

585

A puppet-play that’s full of empty phrases.

WAGNER. Yes—but the world! The human heart and mind!

We all seek knowledge, surely, in this sphere?

FAUST. Why, yes, however knowledge is defined.

But who will dare to speak the truth out clear?

590

The few who anything of truth have learned,

And foolishly did not keep truth concealed,

Their thoughts and visions to the common herd revealed,

Since time began we’ve crucified and burned.

But please, my friend, it’s deep into the night,

595

And I must sleep now—if I can.

WAGNER. I’d gladly stay much longer, for it’s such delight

Exchanging thoughts with such a learned man.

But then tomorrow, as it’s Easter Day,

I’ll put more questions to you if I may.

600

I’ve studied very hard, and yet, although

[exit

I know a lot, there’s so much more to know.

FAUST. [alone] How is it that his mind can take such pleasure,

Forever dabbling in these shallow terms.

He digs so avidly for hidden treasure,

605

And then rejoices when he digs up worms.

Why is it that this tiresome nuisance can

Dispel the throng of spirits gathered round me?

And yet for once I’m glad the wretched man

Came in and broke the magic spell that bound me.

610

His interruption saved me from despair

That threatened to destroy my shattered mind.

The mighty vision I confronted there

Showed me the pygmy stature of mankind.

And I myself, made in God’s image, thought

615

That I had glimpsed eternal truth’s reflection,

Exulting in the radiance of heaven, sought

To shed all earthly imperfection;

I, higher than Cherubim, imagined I was free

To surge through nature’s very veins, I vied

620

With gods in their creative power, and tried

To share their joy—I pay now for my pride!

That voice of thunder has annihilated me.

Your peer, great Spirit, I can never be.

Although my powers could summon you, I fear

625

I had no power to hold your presence here.

That moment was sublime beyond compare,

I felt myself so small and yet so great;

But cruelly you drove me back to share

Humanity’s obscure uncertain fate.

630

Who now will counsel me or warn me? Who?

Should I obey that urge that drives me on?

Not just our sorrows, everything we do

Confines the course our lives would freely run.

Against our spirit’s loftiest conception

635

Some foreign element continually conspires;

The good to which the soul on earth aspires,

The better part of it is vain deception.

The glorious feelings that life gave us, all emotion

Is numbed and coarsened in the world’s commotion.

640

Once our imagination boldly sought

To reach eternity; but now a tiny scope

Is all it needs. The swirling tide of time has brought

An end to all our joy and all our hope.

Deep in our hearts is lodged the worm of care,

645

It works its secret pain and worry there.

In ever-changing guises it appears,

Gnaws at our peace of mind and turns our joys to tears,

As house and home, as child and wife,

As fire or flood, as poison or as knife;

650

We tremble at the things that never harmed us yet,

And what we never lost we bitterly regret.

I am not like the gods! Too well I know

That I am like the snake that eats the dust,

That must for ever on its belly go

655

And by the feet of those who pass be crushed.

These drawers, these cluttered shelves that line the wall

Confining me inside this dismal cell,

This useless and motheaten bric-a-brac, and all

This junk surrounding me—is this not dust as well?

660

Shall I discover what I seek in here?

And should I read a thousand books to find

How men have agonized in vain, or hear

Of one or two to whom fate has been kind?

You empty skull, I see you grinning down;

665

Perhaps your brain, like mine, sought in confusion

The light of day, but in the gloomy twilight found

Your joyful urge for truth had ended in delusion.

Those instruments that hang there mocking me,

That cobwebbed tangle, clamps and pulleys, cogs and wheels—

670

With these I thought I could unlock the seals

That guard the door to nature’s mystery.

But it was barred; the veil that shrouds from sight

All nature’s secrets cannot be dispelled,

And what from your inquiring mind she has withheld

675

These screws and levers will not bring to light.

This rusty apparatus I’ve retained

Only because it’s from my father’s time;

The lamp that gutters on my desk has stained

This ancient parchment black with soot and grime.

680

Far better to have squandered what I had than stay

And struggle with the useless junk of yesterday!

What we inherit from our fathers should

Be ours to have and hold, to use it as we would,

Or else it is a millstone that we carry with us;

685

We can use only what the here and now will give us.

Why do my eyes turn to that place again?

Is it that phial that attracts me so?

Why do I sense a sudden lightening, as when

The darkness of the woods is bathed in moonlight’s glow?

690

I take you down with reverent devotion,

And welcome you, most precious, rarest potion!

In you I honour human skill and art;

Quintessence of all kindly opiates, austere

Tincture of subtlest poisons, play your part—

695

Do one last service for your master here!

I see you, and all pain is stilled at last;

I hold you, and my restless striving ceases.

The surging of my mind is ebbing fast,

Borne on fresh tides to ocean’s furthest reaches.

700

Here at my feet the shining waters stretch away,

And to a new shore beckons now a bright new day!

A chariot of fire descends on buoyant wings

And finds me ready! Soon I shall be free

To soar aloft to realms of higher things,

705

To other spheres of pure activity.

You who were as a worm, do you deserve such bliss,

Such radiant life, such godlike joy as this?

Yes, turn your back on earth, and resolutely go

Into a sunlight such as here you’ll never know!

710

Now you must dare to fling those portals wide,

The gates through which none willingly would go;

Now is the time to act, and by your action show

That man is fit to stand at the immortals’ side,

And not to quail before that gloomy cavern, where

715

Imagination damns itself to torment and despair;

Press on towards that passage from which none returns,

Around whose narrow mouth all hell-fire burns.

To make that awful journey freely I decide,

Although oblivion await me on the other side.

720

Come down, you glass of purest crystal bright!

Out of your ancient case I bring you to the light.

For all these years you lay forgotten here;

You sparkled at our fathers’ banquets long ago,

And brought those solemn gatherings good cheer

725

When as a loving-cup from hand to hand you’d go.

It was the drinker’s duty to convey in rhymes

The richly wrought engravings round the bowl,

Then in one draught to drain the cup—how you recall

For me those far-off youthful times!

730

Today I shall not pass you to a fellow-guest,

Nor try my wit against the figures round your rim;

This darker juice that fills you to the brim

Inebriates more swiftly than the rest.

I made it well, and choose it for this final test:

735

With all my heart I bring, as day is dawning,

My festive greeting to this solemn morning!

He sets the cup to his mouth. The sound of bells and a choir are heard.

CHOIR OF ANGELS. Christ is arisen!

Joy he has brought for us

Sin he has fought for us

740

Salvation sought for us

In his dark prison.

FAUST. What distant voices, what exalted singing

Now from my eager lips have snatched this cup away?

Are those deep-throated bells already ringing

745

The first glad message of the Easter Day?

You early choirs, you sing as once the angels sang

When from the dark night of the tomb there rang

Assurance of a covenant renewed that day.

CHOIR OF WOMEN. With fragrant lotion

750

Gently his limbs we dressed,

With true devotion

Laid our dear Lord to rest,

Clean linen round him

Binding with loving care.

755

Alas, we found him

No longer there.

CHOIR OF ANGELS. Christ is arisen!

Saviour who loves us best

Ever thy name be blessed

760

Who for us stood the test

In thy dark prison.

FAUST. You gentle, potent choirs of heaven, why do you seek

To visit me within this dusty cell?

I hear your message, but my faith is weak;

765

Go, on more tender minds to cast your spell

And work the miracles that faith loves well.

I do not dare to reach towards those spheres,

Your gracious gospel calls to me in vain;

And yet these sounds bring memories of early years

770

That call me back to life on earth again.

Then, in the solemn stillness of the sabbath day

I felt the loving kiss of heaven descend on me;

The pealing bells rang out the sacred mystery,

And with a fervent joy I knelt to pray.

775

I did not understand the joyful urge

That drove me out to wood and field and lane,

Or why I wept a thousand tears to feel the surge

Of life as if a world was born in me again.

Those songs would promise carefree childish play,

780

And herald the unfettered joys of spring;

The memories of childhood innocence they bring

From that last solemn step turn me away.

Sweet choirs of heaven, your hymns were not in vain;

My tears run free, I am restored to earth again!

785

CHOIR OF DISCIPLES. Though in the tomb he lay,

All was not ended;

Our loving Lord today

Heavenward ascended.

Now through his second birth

790

Glad transformation nears,

But we remain on earth

Still in this vale of tears.

We who were not reborn

Languish here comfortless;

795

We who were left to mourn

Envy his bliss!

CHOIR OF ANGELS. Christ is arisen

Out of corruption’s woe.

Now from your prison

800

Joyfully go,

Praises declaring

Loving and caring

Brotherhood sharing

His gospel bearing

805

Heaven’s joys preparing.

For you the Lord is near,

See, he is here!

OUTSIDE THE CITY GATE

All kinds of people walking out

SOME APPRENTICE TRADESMEN. Why are you going out that way?

OTHERS. We’re going to the hunting lodge today.

810

1ST GROUP. We’re going to walk as far as the mill.

APPRENT. The watergate’s a better bet.

2 APPRENT. The path’s no good, it’s far too wet.

2ND GROUP. Are you coming with us?

3 APPRENT.     I don’t think I will.

4 APPRENT. Let’s go up to Bergdorf, there’s better beer

815

And prettier girls than you get down here.

They have good fights up there as well.

5 APPRENT. If I were you, I’d just go steady—

You’ve had two hidings there already;

I’d avoid the place like hell.

820

SERVANT GIRL. Oh come on! Let’s go back to town.

2ND SERVANT GIRL. I’m sure he’s waiting by that tree.

1ST GIRL. And anyway, it’s not much fun for me,

It’s you he always hangs around.

He’ll only ever dance with you—

825

There’s nothing much for me to do.

2ND GIRL. Oh, he won’t be the only one up there,

He said he’d bring that boy with curly hair.

STUDENT. My God, just watch those girls go by!

Come on, let’s give them both a try.

830

I like a pint and a damn good smoke, but still

There’s nothing like a housemaid dressed to kill.

A MIDDLE-CLASS GIRL. What is it with the boys around these parts?

There’s lots of nice girls, they could take their pick—

But they go chasing after those two tarts.

835

It really is enough to make you sick!

2 STUDENT. [to the first] Hey, not so fast! Look at the other two,

They’re really smart. I’ve seen that one before—

Yes, she’s the pretty one that lives next door.

I fancy her—the other one’s just right for you.

840

They’re in no hurry, leave it all to me;

They’ll let us go along with them, you’ll see.

1 STUDENT. Oh no, it’s boring when you have to be polite.

Come on, don’t let those two birds out of sight.

They’re much more fun; believe me, if you want to score,

845

These working girls know what their hands are for.

A CITIZEN. No, I don’t like our present Burgomaster,

Since he got in, he’s just been a disaster.

Whatever good has he done for the town?

Things go from bad to worse, and every day

850

There’s something else for which we have to pay.

He gives his orders—we just have to knuckle down.

A BEGGAR. [sings] Fair ladies and fine gentlemen

With rosy cheeks and pretty dress,

I beg you, spare a thought for them

855

That suffer hunger and distress.

You’re lucky if you have the choice

To help the poor, a Christian deed;

On Easter Day, when all rejoice,

Give charity to those in need!

860

2 CITIZEN. What I like best when I’m on holiday

Is talk about a bloody foreign war,

In Turkey or some country far away—

The din of battle and the cannon’s roar!

You sit at the window with a glass of beer,

865

And on the river watch the ships go by,

Then in the evening go home with a grateful sigh

And thank the Lord that things are peaceful here.

3 CITIZEN. Yes, neighbour, that’s the way I see it.

Just let them fight among themselves, I say,

870

And make a mess of things—so be it—

As long as we can go on in the same old way.

AN OLD WOMAN. [to the middle-class girls] Well now, young ladies! All dressed up today?

Why not, to make the young lads gawk at you!

But not so hoity-toity now, that’s not the way;

875

Just come to me, I’ll make your dreams come true.

1ST MIDDLE-CLASS GIRL. Agatha, come on! I don’t like to be seen

Talking to witches like her in the street.

But still, she showed me just last Hallowe’en

The boy I’d marry; he was really sweet.

880

THE OTHER. She showed me mine once in her crystal ball,

With all his cheeky friends—a soldier, I could swear.

But it’s no good, I’ve looked around them all,

I just can’t find him anywhere.

SOLDIERS. Castles with mighty

885

Ramparts and towers,

Girls proud and flighty

Force overpowers

And makes them ours!

Bold enterprises

890

Win the best prizes.

We stick together,

We’re always willing,

Whether it’s pleasure,

Whether it’s killing.

895

A girl or a castle,

Tough ones or tender,

After a tussle

They all surrender.

No one is bolder,

900

We take the prize—

And then the soldier

Says his goodbyes.

FAUST and WAGNER

FAUST. The ice has melted, the streams and rivers,

Released from the frozen hills, now bring

905

To the valleys the hopeful promise of spring.

Old winter, defeated, retreats and shivers

High in the desolate mountain snows,

And from his bitter exile blows

His icy blasts in feeble showers

910

That turn the green fields hoary white.

The sun will put his frost to flight,

And soon will paint the meadows bright.

All round us new life stirs and grows;

But now in the fields instead of flowers

915

A motley throng of people flows.

Here from this rise we can look down

And see them pouring in full spate

Through the dark and narrow gate

Out of the confines of the town.

920

They celebrate with one accord

The resurrection of the Lord,

For they themselves are now reborn;

Away from the workshops and counting-tables,

From narrow hovel and dismal room,

925

Out of the shadow of roofs and gables,

Out of the churches’ pious gloom,

Out from the squash of the streets they swarm,

All streaming out into the light,

Into the open countryside—

930

How eagerly they take their flight!

See, on the river far and wide

The painted boats go sailing past,

And packed with revellers they glide

Until they’re lost to sight at last.

935

You see the tiny figures crawl

Along the mountain tracks up there,

And hear the noisy village fair.

This is a paradise for all;

They all proclaim on every side

940

What joy it is to be alive!

WAGNER. Doctor, although it makes me very proud

To keep you company and hear your learned talk,

Alone I would not care to come and walk

With this uncouth and vulgar crowd.

945

Their shouting, fiddling, bowling and the rest,

It grates upon my ears, I have to say.

They rant and shriek as if they were possessed,

And take their pleasures in this raucous way.

PEASANTS under the linden tree, dancing and singing

The shepherd in his Sunday best

950

In coloured coat and ribbons dressed,

I’m really smart, he says, oh!

Around the linden tree the boys

And girls were dancing—what a noise!

Diddle dee! Diddle dee!

955

And fiddle-me diddle-me dee!

That’s how the fiddler plays, oh.

He joined the dance and in a while

He sees a girl, and with a smile

He digs her in the stays, oh.

960

The lively lass she turns about

And says, stop that, you stupid lout!

Diddle dee! Diddle dee!

And fiddle-me diddle-me dee!

Just watch your cheeky ways, oh.

965

Then round and round the couple flew,

They danced and danced the whole night through—

Her skirts fly as she sways, oh!

They danced until they both got warm,

And lay together at the dawn.

970

Diddle dee! Diddle dee!

And fiddle-me diddle-me dee!

On her thigh his hand he lays, oh.

Now, don’t be so familiar, you!

I’m not so sure you love me true.

975

The girl it is that pays, oh.

But he coaxed her on, and very soon

From the linden tree you heard this tune:

Diddle dee! Diddle dee!

And fiddle-me diddle-me dee!

980

All shout and the fiddler plays, oh.

OLD PEASANT. Doctor, we be very proud

That such a learned man today

Should come and join our merry crowd.

We welcome you, and bid you stay,

985

And beg you, Sir, to be the first

To sample this, our finest cup.

We hope that as you drink it up

It will do more than quench your thirst;

May it as many drops contain

990

As years on earth to you remain.

FAUST. I thank you for your welcome here;

I drink, and wish you all good cheer.

The people gather round

OLD PEASANT. Indeed, it is a fitting thing

That you should be with us on this glad day,

995

For you have helped relieve our suffering

In former times on many a bad day.

There’s several of us be here still

Your father treated with devoted care

When fever raged, and with his healing skill

1000

Saved them from death, and saved us from despair.

And you yourself were then a young man, you

Would visit the plague-houses without fear,

Among the dead and dying all night through

You toiled, and lived to work among us here.

1005

Through all those many trials you endured,

And many of us with God’s help you cured.

ALL. Good health to a true and trusted friend,

May he be with us to the end!

FAUST. Give thanks to God in heaven above,

1010

Who helps and heals us with his love.

He walks on with WAGNER

WAGNER. What pleasure it must give you, Sir, to find

Such honour and respect among the crowd!

How happy is the man who is allowed

To use his talents in the service of mankind.

1015

The father shows you to his son,

They rush to see you, every one.

The music stops, the dance is done,

They crowd around you everywhere you go

And doff their caps with reverence—why,

1020

You’d almost think they’ll kneel as though

The Sacred Host were being carried by.

FAUST. We’ll walk a few steps further to that stone,

And then we’ll sit and rest awhile up there.

Here deep in thought I’ve often sat alone

1025

In agony of mind, with fasting and with prayer.

So rich in hope and strong in faith I thought

To force God’s will, and heaven I besought

With pleas and tears and pious abstinence

To put an end to that vile pestilence.

1030

How hollow in my ears their plaudits ring!

If you could read my inmost thoughts, you’d learn

How little son or father did to earn

The praises that these simple people sing.

My father was a decent man who strove

1035

To fathom holy nature’s secret lore;

His honest but eccentric efforts drove

Him to a science occult and obscure.

In the dark workshop of his trade

With his initiates he hid away,

1040

And from some ancient formulae

Repellent and arcane concoctions made.

There in a warm solution he would wed

The lily to the lion, white to red,

Then both were forced with open flame

1045

Through narrow bridal chambers time and time again.

And if the glowing colours then revealed

The young queen in the phial deep inside,

That was the medicine—but the patients died,

And no one thought to wonder who was healed.

1050

And so with hellish brews and deadly skills

Among these valleys and these hills

We did more mischief than the plague could ever do.

I gave the poison to a thousand men who died;

Now to my shame I have to listen to

1055

The praises of the murderers sung far and wide.

WAGNER. How can you be disturbed by such a thought?

It’s quite enough for any honest man

To practise scrupulously as he can

The skills and disciplines he has been taught.

1060

As young men we respect our fathers’ guidance,

And from their teachings willingly we learn;

If then as grown men we extend their science,

Our sons will surely further it in turn.

FAUST. How fortunate are those who can still hope

1065

To rise above this sea of error all around!

For what we need to know is quite beyond our scope,

And useless all the knowledge we have found.

But with such dismal thoughts let us be done,

And marvel at the bounty that this evening yields!

1070

See how the glory of the setting sun

Touches the huts among the lush green fields.

It dips and sinks, completes its daily round,

And brings new life to lands still plunged in night.

If only I had wings to lift me from the ground,

1075

To soar and track it on its onward flight!

In everlasting sunset I would greet

The quiet world spread out beneath my feet,

The valleys hushed, the mountain summits glowing,

The silver streams to golden rivers flowing.

1080

For nothing then could check my godlike flight,

No rocky peaks or chasms interrupt my gaze,

And soon the ocean with its balmy bays

Reveals itself to the unfettered sight.

Again the fiery disk begins to sink,

1085

And with fresh energies I hurry on to drink

And quench my thirst in its eternal light,

The day before me, and behind me night,

The heavens above me, under me the waves!

A glorious vision, even as it fades.

1090

The sullen body’s burden always brings

To earth the impulse of our spirit’s wings.

Yet every creature’s by its nature led

To strive and climb beyond its earthly ties;

The lark pours out its shrilling descant overhead,

1095

Lost in the azure spaces of the skies;

On spreading wings the soaring eagle seeks

The solitude of fir-clad mountain peaks;

Towards its distant home the wandering crane

Flies onward over forest, lake and plain.

1100

WAGNER. I’ve often felt a certain restlessness,

But not an urge like that, I must confess.

You soon get tired of woods and fields and suchlike things,

And I would never envy birds their wings.

For I prefer more intellectual delights;

1105

From book to book, from page to page I go—

It helps me pass the bitter winter nights.

For as I read, I feel a warming glow;

And if I find a manuscript of any worth—

Why, then it’s like a very heaven on earth.

1110

FAUST. You only know that single urge; far better so—

That other impulse you should never seek to know.

Two souls are locked in conflict in my heart,

They fight to separate and pull apart.

The one clings stubbornly to worldly things,

1115

And craves the pleasures of our carnal appetites,

The other has an inborn urge to spread its wings,

Shake off the dust of earth and soar to loftier heights.

If there are hovering spirits that hold sway

In the sublunary regions of the sky,

1120

Oh, come down from the golden clouds and let me fly

With you to new adventures far away!

Or if I had a magic cloak at my command

To lift and take me to some distant land,

I’d not exchange it for a cloth of gold,

1125

For a king’s ransom, or for wealth untold!

WAGNER. Do not invoke that too familiar swarm

Of demons that infest the atmosphere,

And bring from every quarter and in every form

The countless ills and perils that we fear!

1130

From the cold north the spirit hordes descend

With cutting teeth and arrow-pointed tongues;

And from the east a barren drought they send

That shreds and feeds upon our gasping lungs;

From southern deserts comes the heat that overpowers

1135

And sears us with its torrid glow;

The west brings us relief with drenching showers

That drown us and the crops just as they grow.

They listen well, on mischief always bent,

Obey our call, beguile us to believe

1140

They speak with angels’ tongues, as if from heaven sent

To serve us here—but only to deceive.

But come, let’s leave; the world is grey and still,

The mist is gathering and the air is chill.

At such times I appreciate my cosy room.

1145

You look amazed, why do you stop and stare?

Can you see something out there in the gloom?

FAUST. You see that black dog running through the stubble there?

WAGNER. That’s nothing odd; I noticed it a while ago.

FAUST. Look carefully! What kind of creature can it be?

1150

WAGNER. It’s just a poodle running to and fro

And picking up its master’s scent, it seems to me.

FAUST. It’s running circles round us; there, look back—

It’s getting closer to us all the time.

I seem to see a streak of red, a line

1155

Of fire marking out its track.

WAGNER. It’s just a stray black poodle that has found us;

I daresay it’s an optical illusion, have no care.

FAUST. It seems to me it’s weaving magic lines around us,

To draw us into some infernal snare.

1160

WAGNER. It doesn’t know us, so it feels unsure,

Because it was its master it was looking for.

FAUST. The circle’s getting smaller now, it’s coming near!

WAGNER. You see—a dog! There is no witchcraft here.

It growls and cowers, wags its tail, lies flat

1165

Upon its belly—every dog does that.

FAUST. Perhaps you’re right; then let it come with us.

WAGNER. It’s just a silly dog that wants some fun with us.

It stands and waits there every time we stop,

You speak to it, it begs and does its tricks.

1170

It’ll bring back anything you drop,

Jump in the river just to fetch some sticks.

FAUST. I see no evil spirit in it, sure enough;

It’s just a dog that’s trained to do its stuff.

WAGNER. There is no reason why a learned man

1175

Should not approve a well-trained poodle, too;

The students teach him everything they can,

Just as the students learn so much from you.

   [tthey go in through the city gate

FAUST’S STUDY

FAUST enters with the poodle

FAUST. The fields and pastures now lie still,

And night its canopy has spread;

1180

The solemn darkness seems to fill

Our better soul with holy dread.

Our wilder impulses are stilled,

And all our hasty actions, when

The peaceful heart with love is filled

1185

For God and for our fellow men.

Be quiet, poodle! Stop running everywhere!

Why are you snuffling around the door?

Sit by the stove, Sir, over there—

I’ll put my best cushion on the floor.

1190

This running and jumping and sniffing about

Was all very well out there on the hill;

You’re welcome here, but I’ll turn you out

If you can’t settle down and just lie still.

When the friendly lamp burns bright

1195

Confined within this narrow cell,

The heart that knows itself aright

Can find enlightenment as well.

Then hope once more within us swells,

And reason speaks again, it seems;

1200

We long to seek the deepest wells

Of life, and drink from living streams.

Poodle, stop growling! These animal cries

Disturb the calm and reverent mood

That fills my mind in this solitude.

1205

We know that men only mock and despise

What they don’t understand or never knew;

In the minds of most there is no place

For goodness, beauty, love or grace—

Do such things make dogs uneasy, too?

1210

But though my spirit wills it, still I cannot find

That true contentment and serenity of mind.

Why must we thirst and search in vain, and why

Must every source of hope run dry?

How often have I sought such consolation,

1215

How often have my efforts been in vain!

And so we look beyond this world again

And seek the witness of God’s revelation,

The truth that with majestic beauty shines

In the Evangelist’s most solemn lines.

1220

A reverent impulse now inspires me

To take the ancient text, and with sincerity

Translate the Holy Gospel of St John

Into my own beloved native tongue.

He opens a large volume and begins to write

I read: In the beginning was the Word. But here

1225

Already I must hesitate. The mere

Word for me has no such resonance;

I must translate it in a different sense.

Now, if the spirit guides me right, I ought

To say: In the beginning there was Thought.

1230

Consider well; the deeper truth escapes

The hasty pen. For is it thought that shapes

And drives creation at its very source?

Far better: In the beginning was the Force!

Yet something tells me even as I write

1235

That this is not the meaning that I need.

The spirit helps me, now I see the light,

I have it: In the beginning was the Deed!

If I’m to share this room with you,

Poodle, stop growling

1240

And stop your howling!

I won’t have such a hullabaloo,

So stop your fuss,

Or one of us

Will leave the house, and quickly, too.

1245

You don’t have to stay here, you know—

The door is open, you can go.

But what’s this apparition that I see?

Is it real or is it fantasy?

It can’t be natural, there’s magic in it—

1250

The poodle’s getting bigger by the minute!

It’s heaving and swelling violently—

That’s not a dog in front of me!

It’s like a hippopotamus in size,

With fearsome teeth and glowing eyes.

1255

What kind of spirit have I let in here?

But I know how to make your sort appear:

Solomon’s Key has just the spell

To exorcise this brood of hell.

SPIRITS. [in the passage outside]

There’s somebody trapped in there!

1260

Stay out, don’t follow him, beware!

It’s the old hell-hound, like a fox

Caught in a box!

Listen to me:

Fly high and low,

1265

Weave to and fro,

And he’ll soon be free.

Help him, don’t let him

Just sit there, they’ll get him!

He’s helped us before,

1270

Done us favours galore.

FAUST. First I’ll need the fourfold spell

To summon up this beast of hell:

Salamanders aglow,

Undines so fair,

1275

Sylphs of the air,

Kobolds below!

You represent

Each element,

Through your powers

1280

The gift is ours;

Spirits will fall

Under our thrall.

Vanish in the fiery glow,

Salamander!

1285

With the rippling waters flow,

Undine!

Like a glorious meteor blaze,

Sylph!

Show your helpful homely ways,

1290

Incubus! Incubus!

Be done, and show yourself to us!

None of the four

Dwells in the beast,

It leers and lies there just as before—

1295

I haven’t hurt it in the least.

But I can weave

A stronger spell.

My friend, I believe

You’re a minion of hell.

1300

This sign can quell

The hordes that dwell

In the pit beneath.

Ah! Now it’s bristling and showing its teeth.

Vile creature, it seems

1305

You know what it means:

The uncreated one,

Undesignated one,

Through all heavens glorified,

Infamously crucified.

1310

Now behind the stove it goes,

And like an elephant it grows.

It fills the room, it swirls and flows,

Like mist it seems to disappear.

It rises to the roof again—

1315

Now, at your master’s call, come here!

You see, my threats were not in vain—

I’ll singe your fur with holy flame!

Do not invite

The threefold glowing light,

1320

Do not invite

The most commanding spell of all!

MEPHISTOPHELES steps out from behind the stove as the mist clears, dressed as a travelling scholar

MEPHISTO. Why all the fuss? I’m here, Sir, at your call.

FAUST. So that was what the poodle had in it—

A travelling scholar! Well, I like your style.

1325

MEPHISTO. Congratulations to you; I admit

You had me rather worried for a while.

FAUST. What is your name?

MEPHISTO.   The question seems absurd

For someone who despises the mere word,

Who treats appearances as vain illusion

And seeks the truth in such remote seclusion.

FAUST. But with you gentlemen the name

And nature’s usually the same,

And we can often recognize

The Liar, the Destroyer, or the Lord of Flies.

Who are you, then?

1335

MEPHISTO.   A part of that same power that would

Forever work for evil, yet forever creates good.

FAUST. And does this puzzle have some explanation?

MEPHISTO. I am the spirit of perpetual negation.

And that is only right; for all

1340

That’s made is fit to be destroyed.

Far better if it were an empty void!

So—everything that you would call

Destruction, sin, and all that’s meant

By evil, is my proper element.

1345

FAUST. You call yourself a part? You seem entire to me.

MEPHISTO. I’m telling you the simple truth. You see,

While man, that poor deluded soul,

Imagines he’s a perfect whole,

I am part of that part that at the first was one,

1350

Part of the darkness from which light has sprung,

Proud light, that now competes with Mother Night

For room and status, and disputes her ancient right.

But it will not succeed, because it clings

To stubborn matter, to corporeal things.

1355

It blazons forth their beauty to the eye,

But matter hinders its triumphant course;

It cannot last for ever, and perforce

When matter perishes, then light must die.

FAUST. Ah, now I see what you’re about; you fail

1360

To bring wholesale destruction to the universe,

And so you work your mischief on a smaller scale.

MEPHISTO. Indeed; but frankly, things just go from bad to worse.

This awkward world, this object, this obstruction,

Resists all my best efforts at destruction.

Whatever harm I do to it, it seems

Quite unaffected by my nihilistic schemes.

Flood, fire or earthquake, storm—whatever I can send

To ravage land or sea, they calm down in the end.

And that accursed brood of man and beast—

1370

That rabble I can’t cope with in the least.

I’ve buried millions in my time, but then

They breed and multiply—I have to start again!

So it goes on, it drives you to despair;

In water, in the earth and in the air,

1375

A dry, a moist, a cold or warm environment,

A thousand germinating seeds are sown.

If fire were not my native element,

There would be nothing left to call my own.

FAUST. I see; against the ever-living power

1380

That tends and nurtures all creation,

You rage in vain with all the sour

Malice of your cold negation.

Strange son of chaos! No, you ought

To change your strategy and start again.

1385

MEPHISTO. Indeed, I’ll give the matter careful thought,

And we’ll go into it more fully then.

But now, with your permission, may I go?

FAUST. I don’t see why you need my leave.

We’ve got to know each other—so

1390

Feel free to visit when you please.

There’s the door, and there’s the window—you

Could surely get out through the chimney, too?

MEPHISTO. Well—yes, there is a snag, I have to say;

There’s just one little obstacle in the way.

1395

That magic sign drawn on the floor—

FAUST. Is it the pentagram that keeps you in?

So tell me then, you son of hell and sin,

However did you get in through the door?

How could a demon let himself be fooled?

1400

MEPHISTO. Take a close look; it’s not perfectly ruled.

That corner pointing out into the street—

As you can see, the two lines don’t quite meet.

FAUST. Now that’s a very fortunate mistake!

I’ve caught the Devil, and he can’t escape—

1405

And quite by accident, it would appear.

MEPHISTO. The poodle didn’t notice when he came in here;

But now the situation’s changed, and so

The Devil could get in, but he can’t go.

FAUST. You could leave by the window, I’d have thought.

1410

MEPHISTO. Demons and spirits have their code; we may

Come in just as we please, but then we’re caught;

We have to leave the house by the same way.

FAUST. So hell has its own laws and regulations too?

That’s very good! So tell me—I dare say

1415

It’s possible to make a pact with you?

MEPHISTO. Indeed; if you negotiate with us,

You’ll find the offer tempting—and we never cheat.

But these things can’t be rushed, so we’ll discuss

The matter in more detail the next time we meet.

1420

For now, I would respectfully require

Your kind permission to retire.

FAUST. Come, stay a little longer; you can tell me

Something about the bargains you might sell me.

MEPHISTO. Please let me go—I’ll soon be back again,

1425

And you can ask me all about it then.

FAUST. I didn’t trick you into coming here, you know—

You got yourself into this snare.

It isn’t often that you get the Devil where

You want him—so you don’t just let him go.

1430

MEPHISTO. If that is what you wish, I will remain

And keep you company a while.

On one condition, though—that I can entertain

You with my talents in the proper style.

FAUST. Why, yes, of course, you must feel free;

1435

I hope you’ve something pleasant, though, to offer me.

MEPHISTO. My friend, in just one hour tonight

You’ll have more sensual pleasure and delight

Than in a year of everyday monotony.

What these airy spirits sing you,

1440

And the visions that they bring you

Are no empty magic dream.

Sweetest perfumes will beguile you,

All your senses ravish while you

Feast on fruits you’ve never seen.

1445

You’re here—you don’t have to rehearse your part;

Now, spirits of the air, show us your art!

SPIRITS. Let the dark ceiling

Over us vanish!

Blue sky revealing,

1450

Sweetly appealing

Comforting light!

If the concealing

Clouds we could banish,

Stars would be gleaming,

1450

Milder suns beaming

Through the dark night.

Spirit perfection,

Heaven’s reflection,

Gracefully swinging,

1460

Overhead winging.

Yearning affection

After them sighing;

Ribbons are flying,

Draperies streaming,

1465

Scattered like flowers

Garland the bowers.

See lovers dreaming,

Pledging together

Love that’s for ever.

1470

Green leaves surround them,

Tendrils wind round them,

Heavy grapes cluster,

Ripe for the treading,

Vats overflowing.

1475

Now the wine gushes,

Foaming in fountains

Through the rocks’ lustre

Trickling, it rushes

Down from the mountains

1480

Streaming and pouring,

Into lakes spreading,

Round the hills flowing,

Emerald glowing.

Birds above soaring

1485

Sunwards are streaming,

Effortless motion

Blissfully winging

Where in the gleaming

Waters of ocean

1490

Islands are dreaming,

Where we hear singing

Joyfully ringing,

Soft pipes are playing,

Dancers are straying

1495

Through the fields gliding,

Stepping and swaying.

Some we see striding

Over the mountains,

Others are playing

1500

In the cool fountains,

Others are soaring,

All are adoring,

Stars high above us

Cherish and love us,

1505

Bless us with grace.

MEPHISTO. Well done, my gentle spirits of the air!

He’s sleeping like a babe without a care.

For this recital I am in your debt.

You’re not the man to hold the Devil yet!

1510

Now plunge him in an ocean of delight,

Entrance him with deluded fantasy.

But here I need a rodent’s teeth to bite

The magic charm around this door for me.

They’ll not take long to answer to my call—

1515

I can already hear one rustling in the wall.

The master of all rats and mice,

Of flies and frogs and bugs and lice,

Commands you to come forth and gnaw

That symbol chalked upon the floor.

1520

There, where I mark it with a drop

Of oil; ah, yes, he’s coming, hippety-hop!

Now, get to work! The point that’s holding me

Is on the edge, right at the top. Now then,

Another bite, and I’ll be free.

1525

So, Faust, dream on until we meet again!

FAUST. [waking] Have I been cheated then once more,

And has my throng of spirits vanished into air?

Did I only dream the Devil was there,

And was it just a poodle that I saw?

FAUST’S STUDY

FAUST and MEPHISTOPHELES

1530

FAUST. Who’s there? Come in! Now who the devil’s pestering me?

MEPHISTO. It’s me.

FAUST.  Come in!

MEPHISTO.     Just one more time, to make it three.

FAUST. Well, come in then!

MEPHISTO.    And here I am, you see.

I hope we shall get on together, you and I;

I’ve come to cheer you up—that’s why

1535

I’m dressed up like an aristocrat

In a fine red coat with golden stitches,

A stiff silk cape on top of that,

A long sharp rapier in my breeches,

And a cockerel’s feather in my hat.

1540

Take my advice—if I were you,

I’d get an outfit like this too;

Then you’d be well equipped to see

Just how exciting life can be.

FAUST. In any costume I would still despair

1545

Of life, its misery and care.

I am too old to kindle youthful fire,

And yet too young to be beyond desire.

What has this world to offer me, what sort of choice?

You must forgo, renounce, abstain—

1550

That is the tedious refrain

That echoes in our ears, that dismal song.

Hour after hour we hear its croaking voice,

It mocks and follows us our whole life long.

Each morning when I wake, I wake with dread,

1555

With bitter tears I greet the day that brings

No promise and no hope of better things,

No wish fulfilled, not one, for hope is dead;

The day whose leering grimace only stifles

The faintest inkling of delight or joy.

1560

The warmest promptings of the heart it can destroy

With all its stubborn and capricious trifles.

And even when night falls, and on my bed

Fearful and uneasy I must lie, I find

No welcome rest to comfort me—instead

1565

Wild dreams will come to haunt my anxious mind.

The God who dwells within me and who fires

My inner self, my passionate desires,

The God who governs all my thoughts and deeds,

Is powerless to satisfy my outer needs.

1570

This weary life, this burden I detest;

I long for death to come and bring me rest.

MEPHISTO. Death is not always such a welcome guest.

FAUST. How happy is the blood-stained hero who

Meets death in furious battle face to face,

1575

The man who’s wildly danced the whole night through,

And finds death in a woman’s passionate embrace.

That night I saw the Spirit in the flame,

If only I had fallen lifeless at its feet!

MEPHISTO. And yet on Easter morning, all the same

1580

A certain potion didn’t taste so sweet.

FAUST. You have some talent as a spy, I see.

MEPHISTO. I don’t know everything; but much is known to me.

FAUST. That night I heard familiar voices call

To save me from my terrible confusion,

1585

And childhood memories, a sweet illusion

Of happiness long past held me in thrall.

But now I curse that power whose spell

Deludes our souls with its enticing wiles,

And with its false alluring tricks beguiles

1590

Us in this dreary cavern where we dwell.

I curse the self-conceit and pride,

The high opinions of the mind!

I curse appearances that blind

Our senses to the truth they hide!

1595

I curse the dreams of vain obsession,

Of reputation, fame or merit,

I curse our pride in all possession,

Of wife or child, and all that we inherit.

A curse on Mammon’s glittering treasures

1600

That spur ambition on to reckless things,

And on the sybaritic pleasures,

The luxury that his indulgence brings!

I curse the honeyed nectar of the grape,

The grace of love for which all creatures thirst,

1605

A curse on hope, a curse on faith—

Above all, patience be accursed!

CHORUS OF INVISIBLE SPIRITS. Alas! Alas!

You have destroyed

This lovely world!

1610

A demigod has smashed it,

His fist has dashed it

To pieces and hurled

Them into the void!

Ours is the duty

1615

To gather the fragments and mourn

The lost beauty.

Great son of earth,

Give it new birth;

Let it be born

1620

More splendid still

Within your heart again.

And with fresh will

And vision then

New life begin;

1625

New songs we’ll sing

To ring it in!

MEPHISTO. My little creatures

Are wise little teachers.

They promise you action,

1630

Delight and distraction;

Leave this seclusion,

That withers body and mind;

Out in the world you’ll find

Life in rich profusion!

1635

Stop toying with this misery in your scholar’s den,

It’s like a vulture gnawing at your heart.

Even in the worst company you’ll find a part

To play among your fellow men.

But that’s not what I have in mind,

1640

Simply to mingle with the crowd;

I’m not so very grand, but if I were allowed

To keep you company, you’d find

That I could help you on your way.

I would be glad to travel by your side,

1645

Attend to everything you say,

Be your companion, be your guide,

Supply you with whatever you might crave—

In short, I’d be your servant, nay, your slave.

FAUST. And what would you want from me in return?

1650

MEPHISTO. There’s time enough for that, I should have thought.

FAUST. Oh no! The Devil’s not the altruistic sort.

You have to treat such offers with suspicion;

He’ll scarcely do you a good turn

Unless he’s going to get a fat commission.

1655

So tell me straight, then: what is your condition?

MEPHISTO. I undertake to serve you here most faithfully,

Fulfil your every wish in every way,

Provided you will do the same for me

When we meet over there one day.

1660

FAUST. It doesn’t worry me, your ‘over there’;

If you can manage to destroy

This world, the next can have its turn for all I care.

This world’s the source of all my joy,

This sun shines on my anguish and despair,

1665

And if I have to leave it all behind one day,

So be it—let it happen, come what may.

I am not curious in the least to know

That in a future life there will be hate or love,

Whether it’s in the regions up above,

1670

Or in the other places down below.

MEPHISTO. Then take a chance—what are you waiting for?

Sign up with me, and you can feast your eyes

On everything my talents can devise.

I’ll show you things no one has seen before.

1675

FAUST. Poor devil, what have you to offer me but lies?

The highest aspirations of the human mind,

Such things mean nothing to your kind.

Oh, yes—I’m sure you’ve food that never satisfies,

Or liquid gold that instantly will melt and run

1680

Like quicksilver between my fingers,

A game that no one’s ever won,

A girl who even while she lingers

In my arms, makes eyes at someone new;

Or meteoric fame, and honour too,

1685

That blazes once before it fades away.

Show me the fruit that rots before it’s ripe,

And trees that put out new leaves every day!

MEPHISTO. Of course I can provide you with that type

Of thing—you only have to say.

1690

But they soon pall, and then, my friend,

We look for something that will give more lasting pleasure.

FAUST. If I should ever choose a life of sloth or leisure,

Then let that moment be my end!

Or if you can beguile or flatter me

1695

Into a state of self-contented ease,

Delude me with delight or luxury—

That day shall be my last. These

Are my terms.

MEPHISTO. It’s done!

FAUST.    So let it be:

If I should bid the passing moment stay, or try

1700

To hold its fleeting beauty, then you may

Cast me in chains and carry me away,

For in that instant I will gladly die.

Then you can sound my death-knell, for you will

Have done your service and be free.

1705

Then let the hands upon the clock stand still,

For that will be the end of time for me!

MEPHISTO. Consider well; we don’t forget these things, you see.

FAUST. That is a right you are entitled to.

This is no frivolous adventure that I crave;

1710

If I succumb to lethargy, I’ll be a slave—

Whether to another, or to you.

MEPHISTO. I’ll serve you dutifully when you dine

At the graduation feast tonight.

There’s just one thing; if you would sign

1715

A document for me—I like to do things right.

FAUST. Why, how pedantic! Have you never heard

That you can take a man’s word as his bond?

It’s not enough to stake my fate here and beyond

Upon the honour of my spoken word?

1720

Life rushes past us on its headlong course—

Why should a promise have such binding force?

But in our hearts we all cling to that whim,

From such illusions we are never free;

An honest man will not regret his own integrity,

1725

Nor all the sacrifices that are asked of him.

But such a document, drawn up with stamps and seals—

That is a daunting spectre, for the word congeals

And freezes as it’s written by the pen;

Vellum and wax are all that matter then.

1730

Well, evil spirit, what is it to be?

Bronze, marble, parchment, paper—what you will.

Do I use a chisel, stylus or a quill?

The choice is yours, it’s all the same to me.

MEPHISTO. What an extraordinary display!

1735

Don’t let your rhetoric carry you away.

Any scrap of paper here will do, I think;

We’ll use a drop of blood instead of ink.

FAUST. If you think it will be of any use,

I’m willing to join in your comic act.

1740

MEPHISTO. Blood is a very special kind of juice.

FAUST. You needn’t fear that I will break this pact;

I undertake to strive with all my heart

And all my energy to play my part.

I was too swollen with conceit and pride;

1745

The mighty Spirit has rejected me,

And now I see my place is at your side.

All nature’s secrets are concealed from me,

The thread of thought is broken, for

Henceforth all knowledge I abhor.

1750

To satisfy my seething passions I’ll explore

The very depths of sensuality;

Reveal your wonders and your miracles to me

Behind impenetrable veils of mystery!

We’ll plunge into the headlong rush of time,

1755

Into the whirling turmoil of each day.

Let pain or joy, the monstrous, the sublime,

Success or failure, triumph or vexation

Follow each other as they may;

Such restless striving is our true vocation.

1760

MEPHISTO. There are no limits, no restrictions in your way;

Dip into everything and sample every dish,

Grasp every opportunity without delay,

Do as you please, take what you wish—

Just help yourself, and don’t be coy.

1765

FAUST. Listen: it’s not on happiness I’m bent.

I want a frenzied round of agonizing joy,

Of loving hate, of stimulating discontent.

Learning and knowledge now I leave behind;

I shall not flinch from suffering or despair,

1770

And in my inner self I wish to share

The whole experience of humankind,

To seek its heights, its depths, to know

Within my heart its joys and all its woe,

Identify myself with other men and blend

1775

My life with theirs, and like them perish in the end!

MEPHISTO. Believe me, many thousand years I’ve had to chew

That rancid stuff; that’s long enough to know

That from the cradle to the grave not even you

Could ever manage to digest such sour dough.

1780

You have the Devil’s word that such totality,

Such wholeness is for God alone, for he

Dwells in a realm of everlasting light,

While we were banished to the darkness down below—

And all you ever see is day and night.

FAUST. But that is what I want!

1785

MEPHISTO.     Bravo!

There’s just one problem, I’d have thought,

For art is long, and life is short.

You haven’t got all that much time, and so

I think you’d better go and hire a poet,

1790

Who’d let his wild imagination go—

And he could soon provide, before you know it,

Every noble quality to your liking:

Bold as a lion,

Swift as a stallion,

1795

Passionate as an Italian,

Tough as a Viking.

He would teach you how to reconcile

High-minded generosity with subtle guile,

Or if you want to fall in love, he’d fashion

1800

A scheme for you to satisfy your youthful passion.

I’d like to meet a gentleman like that;

I’d call him ‘Mr Universe’ and raise my hat.

FAUST. What am I then, if it’s not possible to earn

The crown of human life for which I yearn

1805

With all my senses and with all my heart?

MEPHISTO. You are—just what you have been from the start.

Wear a full-bottomed wig and play the sage,

Put on high heels and strut about the stage—

You’re still the same, whichever way you act the part.

1810

FAUST. In vain it seems to me that I have strained

To grasp the riches of the human mind, for when

I pause to reckon what I might have gained,

I feel no new vitality within my breast,

I am no further in my futile quest—

1815

The infinite is still beyond my ken.

MEPHISTO. My dear Sir, that’s a very common view

Of things—but come now, we must try

To find a more imaginative plan for you,

Before life’s pleasures pass you by.

1820

Why, damnit man, your hands, your feet, your name,

Your head, your arse, are yours alone;

But all the other things we use and own—

Are they not ours just the same?

Look, it’s like this: suppose I can

1825

Afford six horses, then it’s just as though

Their strength were mine. I could put on a proper show—

I’d be what you might call a six-horse-power man.

So cheer up! Let your brooding be,

And come out into the wide world with me.

1830

A man who speculates like that, you know,

Is like a beast grazing on barren ground;

Some evil spirit leads it round and round,

While all about it lush green pastures grow.

FAUST. Where do we start?

MEPHISTO.    We just leave, here and now.

1835

What kind of prison is this anyhow?

What sort of life is this for you,

Boring yourself—and all your students too?

Just let your paunchy colleagues do it,

It’s time to leave this treadmill, so go to it!

1840

In any case, you mustn’t talk too loud

About the best things that you know—it’s not allowed.

You’ve got a student here already at the door.

FAUST. I cannot possibly see him today.

MEPHISTO. Come, the poor lad’s been there an hour or more,

1845

He’ll be so disappointed. Don’t send him away;

Give me your cap and gown, I’ll see him for a while—

This sort of fancy dress is just my style.

[he dresses in Faust’s costume

I’ll use my wits and tell him something wise.

A quarter of an hour is all I need; meanwhile

1850

Go and prepare yourself for our great enterprise!

[Faust leaves

MEPHISTOPHELES in Faust’s long gown.

Reason and knowledge, the highest powers of humankind,

You have rejected, to oblivion consigned.

Now let the Prince of Lies confuse you,

With magic spells and fantasies delude you—

1855

And I will have you then once and for all.

For fate has given him a mind

So restless, so impetuous, so unconfined

That his impatient spirit, like a waterfall,

Pours headlong over all the pleasures life can give.

1860

I’ll plunge him into such distraction, he will live

A life so futile, so banal and trite,

He’ll flap and flutter like a bird stuck tight.

He is insatiable, and so I’ll tantalize

Him, dangle food and drink before his greedy eyes.

1865

In vain he’ll beg relief on bended knee,

And even if he hadn’t pledged himself to me,

He’d still be damned for all eternity!

A STUDENT enters

STUDENT. I’ve recently arrived at College

In my earnest quest for knowledge;

1870

On you, Sir, with respect I call—

You are acclaimed by one and all.

MEPHISTO. Well, your politeness pleases me;

A man like other men you see.

You’ve had a good look round the place?

1875

STUDENT. Please take me on, if you’ve the space!

I’m young and eager, keen to please,

And I’ve enough to pay my fees.

My mother was sad to see me go,

But there’s so much that I want to know.

1880

MEPHISTO. Why, then you’ve come to the right door.

STUDENT. But to be frank, I’m not quite sure.

These rooms and walls, so gaunt and tall,

I just don’t like it here at all.

They hem you in, and you can see

1885

No green leaves, not a single tree.

The lecture halls are all so grim

I get confused, my mind goes dim.

MEPHISTO. You’ll soon get used to it, you know.

A baby’s often very slow

1890

To suckle at its mother’s breast,

But in the end it feeds with zest.

Just so at Wisdom’s breasts you will

Quite soon be glad to drink your fill.

STUDENT. I’ll feed from her with joy; but will you say

1895

Just what I have to do to find my way?

MEPHISTO. Well, first of all, it seems to me

You need to choose a Faculty.

STUDENT. I’d like to study every sphere

Of nature and learning while I’m here,

1900

And find out all there is to know

Of the heavens above and the earth below.

MEPHISTO. Well, yes, you’ve got the right idea;

But you must be careful how you go.

STUDENT. I’ll do my best, I promise you—

1905

Although of course I have to say

I’d like some fun and freedom too,

Whenever there’s a holiday.

MEPHISTO. Use your time well, for time so quickly passes.

A little discipline will help you with your classes;

1910

And so, young friend, my pedagogic

Judgement is, you start with Logic.

For there your mind is trained aright;

It’s clamped in Spanish boots so tight

That henceforth with a clearer head

1915

The wary path of thought you’ll tread,

And not like Jack o’ Lantern go

Hopping and flickering to and fro.

For here with rigour you’ll be taught

That things you’d never given a thought,

1920

Like eating, drinking and running free,

Must be done in order: one, two, three!

The mind, however, needs more room;

It’s like a master-weaver’s loom.

A thousand warps move as he treads,

1925

The shuttle flies, and to and fro

The fibres into patterns flow—

One stamp combines a thousand threads.

Send for a philosopher, and he

Will prove to you that it must be:

1930

The first is thus, the second so,

Ergo: the third and fourth we know.

If first and second were not here,

Then third and fourth would disappear.

The students love it, I believe—

1935

But none of them have learned to weave.

To know what nature is about,

First you must drive the spirit out;

And when you’ve pulled it all apart,

What’s missing is the vital spark.

1940

‘Nature’s knack!’ the chemists cheer—

But that just means they’ve no idea.

STUDENT. I’m not quite sure I follow you.

MEPHISTO. Don’t fret, my boy, you’ll still get through

When you’ve learned the tricks and when you’re able

1945

To simplify things and give them a label.

STUDENT. I’m afraid I’ve simply lost the thread;

It’s like a mill-wheel grinding in my head.

MEPHISTO. And after Logic, what should you do?

Ah! Metaphysics is the thing for you;

1950

You’ll learn without the slightest trouble

Stuff that would make your brain-cells bubble.

For notions that won’t fit inside your head,

You’ll find a splendid word instead.

But this first term, whatever you read,

1955

A strict routine is what you need.

Five hours a day—it’s not a lot,

Be in the classroom on the dot;

Prepare the texts at home with care,

And study all the details there—

1960

You’ll know without even having to look

He’s reading straight out of the book.

But write it all down, concentrating

As if it were the Holy Ghost dictating!

STUDENT. I’m sure that’s very good advice,

1965

And you won’t have to tell me twice;

If you’ve got it down in black and white,

You can take it home to read at night.

MEPHISTO. But now you must choose a Faculty!

STUDENT. I don’t think Law is quite the thing for me.

1970

MEPHISTO. I can’t say that I blame you, for the Law,

Believe me, is a monumental bore.

Those dreary statutes, rights and cases,

Like a congenital disease are handed on

Through generations from the father to the son.

1975

They spread like germs to other places,

Turn sense to nonsense, bad to worse;

If you inherit them, your heritage is a curse.

The human rights that you were born with, though—

Those are the rights that you will never know.

1980

STUDENT. All that you say confirms my previous view.

How fortunate I am to be advised by you!

I rather think Theology’s the course for me.

MEPHISTO. I’m not too sure that that’s the way

You ought to choose, for in that discipline, you see,

1985

It is so easy to be led astray.

The subtle poison it contains is so refined,

The antidote is difficult to find.

It’s best if you have only ever heard

One teacher, and then take him at his word.

1990

In other words, words are the things to hold to,

And if you swallow everything he’s told you,

Then you will never doubt that what he says is true.

STUDENT. But surely words must have some meaning too!

MEPHISTO. Perhaps—don’t let that worry you a bit;

1995

For even if the meaning’s problematic,

Then you can always find a word for it.

With words you can be so dogmatic,

With words you can be systematic.

You can believe in words, with words all can be proved;

2000

Not one iota from a word may be removed.

STUDENT. Forgive me if I pester, you’re so kind.

But I would much appreciate your view

Of whether Medicine is the thing to do,

For it’s a course I also have in mind.

2005

Three years can very soon be past,

And one must learn it all so fast.

They say the course is very tough;

With your advice I’d cope, I know.

MEPHISTO. [aside] I’m tired of all this academic stuff;

2010

Now let the Devil have a go.

[aloud] It’s not too hard to learn a Doctor’s skill;

You study till there’s nothing left to know,

And in the end you let things go

According to God’s will.

2015

But all that science doesn’t get you very far;

We all learn willy-nilly what we can—

But if you learn to seize your chance, you are

The up-and-coming man.

You’re well-built, a good-looking chap,

2020

You’ve got a saucy manner, too;

Self-confidence, that’s the secret, that

Will give your patients confidence in you.

The women are the ones to make for;

They’re always ready to complain

2025

About a little pain—

I’m sure you know the remedy they ache for.

And if they think you understand,

You’ll have them eating from your hand.

There’s nothing like a Doctor’s title for

2030

Persuading them they really can respect you,

And in your first examination you’ll explore

Places that others would take years to get to.

You take her hand to check the pulse is steady,

Look deep into her eyes, and then be ready

2035

To slip your arm around her slender waist,

Just to make sure she’s not too tightly laced.

STUDENT. That sounds much better! That makes sense to me.

MEPHISTO. Listen, my friend: the golden tree

Of life is green, all theory is grey.

2040

STUDENT. I never dreamed I’d learn so much today!

I’d like to come along another day

To hear more of your wisdom, if I may.

MEPHISTO. What I can do, it shall be gladly done.

STUDENT. Just one thing more; and I’ll be gone.

2045

I’ve got my album here; please could you say

Some words to help me on my way.

[he writes and hands back the book

MEPHISTO. Of course.

STUDENT. [reading] Eritis sicut Deus scientes bonum et malum.

He shuts the book reverently and takes his leave.

MEPHISTO. ‘You’ll be like God’; my aunt, the serpent, was quite right.

2050

Just heed her words, and one day you’ll get such a fright!

FAUST. [enters] Now where do we go?

MEPHISTO.       Wherever you like; just come with me.

We’ll see the small world first, and then the wider scene.

Pleasure and profit await you, sights you’ve never seen—

For my beginner’s course there’s no tuition fee!

2055

FAUST. With this long beard I shall stick out a mile,

I haven’t got the confidence or style.

This crazy scheme of yours won’t work at all,

I never was at ease with other men;

In company I always feel so small

2060

And so inadequate—you’ll have to think again.

MEPHISTO. My dear friend, that will come in time;

Self-confidence is all you need, and you’ll be fine.

FAUST. And how do we travel, how do we get away?

You’ve got a coach and horses out there, I daresay.

2065

MEPHISTO. We simply spread our cloaks, and they will bear

Us up as we sail gently through the air.

Just one thing, though—we mustn’t carry too much weight,

That makes it difficult to navigate.

Some flame for hot air, which I shall provide,

2070

Will give us lift-off. Spread your arms out wide;

We’ve shed our ballast, and the sky is clear—

Congratulations on your new career!

AUERBACH’S CELLAR IN LEIPZIG

Drinkers carousing

FROSCH. Come on, drink up, let’s have a ball!

What’s the matter with you all?

2075

I’ve never seen such po-faced gits—

You’d get on anybody’s tits.

BRANDER. Well, you’re not much fun, anyway—

No laughs or filthy jokes today.

FROSCH. [tips a glass of wine over his head]

You asked for it!

BRANDER. You bloody swine!

2080

FROSCH. Well, it was your idea, not mine!

SIEBEL. Whoever quarrels gets thrown out!

Let’s have a sing-song, drink and shout!

Holla la la la!

ALTMAYER.  God, what an awful din!

Give me some cotton wool, or pack it in.

2085

SIEBEL. When the deep bass voices start to sing,

The echoes make the vaulting ring.

FROSCH. Yes—if you make any trouble, you’re out on the street!

Ah! Tra la! Tra la la!

ALTMAYER. Ah! Tra la la!

FROSCH.    We’re all in tune, now watch the beat.

2090

[sings] To the Holy Roman Empire—but whatever,

I ask you, holds the dear old thing together?

BRANDER. Urgh! What a rotten song! That’s political blether!

You should thank God every night, and every morning, too,

That the Holy Roman Empire’s nothing to do with you!

2095

I pity the poor sod who’s got to be

Emperor or Chancellor, that’s not the job for me.

Still, someone’s got to be the boss round here;

We’ll have a drinking contest, wine or beer—

The last one standing who can hold a glass

2100

Will be the Pope, and we’ll all kiss his arse.

FROSCH. [sings] Oh nightingale, fly to my love,

A thousand kisses for my turtle dove.

SIEBEL. Not for mine there ain’t, don’t give me all that crap!

FROSCH. A thousand kisses—just you shut your trap!

2105

[sings] Open up! The coast is clear.

Open up! Your lover’s here.

Slide the bolt when morning’s near.

SIEBEL. Yes, go on, tell us all about her, sing her praises!

One day the laugh will be on you.

2110

She led me on, the bitch—you’ll get the treatment too.

I’d give her a hobgoblin, she can go to blazes

Or meet him at the crossroads—he’d know what to do.

A randy goat who’s been up on the Brocken could

Give her a galloping for all I care.

2115

A normal decent bloke is much too good

For her, the little tart. It’s just not fair.

I’ll smash her window with a brick before

I send her any kisses, that’s for sure.

BRANDER. [banging on the table] Now then! Now then! Just let it be!

2120

I know a thing or two, you’ll all agree.

Some people here appear, unless I’m wrong,

To be in love, and so it falls to me

To serenade these lovers with a song.

So here’s a new one I’ve just written for us—

2125

And you can all join in and sing the chorus.

[he sings] In a cellar once there was a rat

Who lived off lard and butter.

She grew and grew, she got as fat

As Doctor Martin Luther.

2130

The cook put poison down the drain,

And soon she felt an awful pain—

As if love’s dart had stuck her!

CHORUS. [exuberantly]

As if love’s dart had stuck her!

BRANDER. She twitched as if she’d had a fit

2135

And drank from every puddle,

She chewed and scratched and gnawed and bit,

Her wits were in a muddle.

She jumped till she could jump no more,

And very soon lay at death’s door—

2140

As if love’s dart had stuck her!

CHORUS. As if love’s dart had stuck her!

BRANDER. In panic then at break of day

She ran into the kitchen,

And by the fireside she lay

2145

In agony a-twitchin’.

The cook just laughed and said ‘Oh my,

That rat is surely going to die—

As if love’s dart had stuck her.’

CHORUS. As if love’s dart had stuck her!

2150

SIEBEL. Whatever are you laughing at?

Well, I don’t think it’s very nice

To go and poison that poor rat.

BRANDER. I take it you’re quite fond of rats and mice?

ALTMAYER. Poor Siebel here, he’s getting bald and fat,

2155

And love has made him suffer terribly.

He’s gone all soft, and so that rat

Reminds him of himself, you see.

FAUST and MEPHISTOPHELES

MEPHISTO. It’s most important you should be

In entertaining company,

2160

And see the common folk at play;

For this lot, every day’s a holiday.

They’re pretty witless, but they have their fun;

They drink a lot, and like small cats they run

In circles chasing their own tails—and then

2165

Next day they have a hangover again.

As long as their credit with the landlord’s good,

They’re quite a happy little brotherhood.

BRANDER. These two are on a journey of some kind—

There’s something odd about the way they’re dressed.

2170

I’ll bet they’ve just arrived in town today.

FROSCH. You’re right, they’ve come to Leipzig, it’s the best!

They call it Little Paris, ’cause we’re so refined.

SIEBEL. They’re strangers—but what sort of folk are they?

FROSCH. Leave it to me! We’ll have a drop to drink,

2175

And I’ll soon worm it out of them, you’ll see—

Easy as pulling milk-teeth, I should think.

They look like aristocrats to me,

They’ve got that surly stuck-up sort of look.

BRANDER. Get on! They’re cheapjacks from the fair!

ALTMAYER. Maybe.

2180

FROSCH. Just watch me, I’ll soon have them on the hook!

MEPHISTO. [to Faust] These people never know the Devil’s in the place,

Even when they’re looking at him face to face.

FAUST. Good evening, gentlemen!

SIEBEL.     The same to you.

[aside, looking askance at MEPHISTOPHELES]

That fellow’s got a limp—look at his shoe.

2185

MEPHISTO. We’ll join you at your table, if we may.

If we can’t get a decent drink, at least we can

Enjoy your conversation, anyway.

ALTMAYER. You seem to be a very choosy man.

FROSCH. When you left Rippach, was it late at night?

2190

You’ll have had supper with old Hans there, right?

MEPHISTO. No, we didn’t call on him today,

But when we saw him last, he had a lot to say

About his cousins who live over here,

And told us we should wish them all good cheer.

[he bows to Frosch

ALTMAYER. [aside] So much for you—he knows the joke!

2195

SIEBEL.     He’s pretty fly!

FROSCH. Just wait a bit, I’ll have him by and by.

MEPHISTO. I thought I heard—correct me if I’m wrong—

Some well-trained voices raised in song.

It must be fine to hear the echoes ring

2200

Around this splendid vaulting when you sing.

FROSCH. I suppose you think you’re quite a virtuoso?

MEPHISTO. Oh no! I love it, but my voice is only so-so.

ALTMAYER. Give us a song!

MEPHISTO.   I’ll give you three or four.

SIEBEL. But let’s have one we haven’t heard before!

2205

MEPHISTO. We’ve just come from abroad, we haven’t been back long—

From Spain, the lovely land of wine and song.

[sings] Once upon a time there was a king,

Who had a great big flea—

FROSCH. Did you hear what he said? A great big flea!

2210

I wouldn’t ask a flea to live with me!

MEPHISTO. [sings] Once upon a time there was a king,

Who had a great big flea.

He loved him more than anything,

More than a son did he.

2215

He said to his tailor, listen to me—

Get busy with tucks and stitches;

Just measure him up and make my flea

A pair of silken breeches!

BRANDER. You’d better tell the tailor, too—

2220

Just measure him good and proper,

’cause if there’s any creases, you

Will surely get the chopper!

MEPHISTO. So soon that flea was kitted out,

In finest velvet dressed,

2225

With silks and ribbons fitted out,

And medals on his chest.

They gave him a knighthood, called him Sir—

He really was a swell;

And all of his relations were

2230

Created peers as well.

The court was in a dreadful stew,

They weren’t allowed to fight ’em;

The Queen and all her ladies, too—

The fleas knew where to bite ’em!

2235

They itched and scratched, but not a man

Could harm the little blighters.

But we can catch ’em if we can,

And squash ’em when they bite us!

CHORUS. [exuberantly]

But we can catch ’em if we can,

2240

And squash ’em when they bite us!

FROSCH. Bravo! Bravo! Very fine!

SIEBEL. That’s how to deal with fleas, it never fails!

BRANDER. You squash ’em in between your fingernails!

ALTMAYER. Here’s to freedom! Here’s to wine!

2245

MEPHISTO. I’d gladly drink a toast to freedom—but I fear

I just can’t drink the wine you get round here.

SIEBEL. Don’t let us hear that kind of talk again!

MEPHISTO. Well, if I didn’t think the landlord would complain,

I’d offer our respected guests a choice selection

2250

Of some of the best wines in our collection.

SIEBEL. Don’t worry about that, I’ll see to him.

FROSCH. If you provide us with a drop of the right stuff,

We’ll be quite happy; but you must give us enough.

I like a glass that’s full right to the brim,

2255

And then I can appreciate it properly.

ALTMAYER. [aside] These guys are Rhinelanders, if you ask me.

MEPHISTO. Fetch me a gimlet!

BRANDER.    Now what’s all this for?

I suppose you left your barrels just outside the door?

ALTMAYER. The landlord’s tools are in a basket over there.

MEPHISTOPHELES takes the gimlet

2260

MEPHISTO. [to Frosch] Well, what can I offer you then, Sir?

FROSCH. What do you mean? What wines have you got? Where?

MEPHISTO. It’s up to you—just say which you prefer.

ALTMAYER. [to Frosch] Licking your lips already then, you greedy swine?

FROSCH. Well, my choice would be something from the Rhine.

2265

The fatherland produces the best wine.

MEPHISTOPHELES bores a hole in the table where FROSCH is sitting

MEPHISTO. We need some stoppers—get some wax here, quick!

ALTMAYER. Oh God, it’s just another conjuring trick.

MEPHISTO. [to Brander] And you?

BRANDER.   Champagne, if it’s not too much trouble—

And nice and fizzy, ’cause I like to see it bubble!

MEPHISTOPHELES bores a hole. Someone has meanwhile made the wax stoppers and plugs the holes.

2270

BRANDER. You must admit sometimes, I know it’s sad,

But foreign stuff is really not that bad.

Us Germans just can’t stand the Frogs, but then

We like to drink their wine now and again.

SIEBEL. [as Mephistopheles approaches him]

I must say, I don’t like my wine too dry.

2275

Have you got something nice and sweet to try?

MEPHISTO. [bores a hole] I’ve just the thing for you—a good Tokay!

ALTMAYER. Now gentlemen, be honest, look me in the eye;

Don’t play your tricks on us, we’re not so dumb.

MEPHISTO. Play tricks on such distinguished guests? Oh, come!

2280

I wouldn’t dream of taking such a liberty.

But tell me, quick, what can I offer you?

I’m sure you’d like a taste of something, too.

ALTMAYER. Oh, anything is good enough for me.

MEPHISTO. [with mysterious gestures]

Luscious fruit the grapevine bears,

2285

Curly horns the billy-goat wears;

Juice comes from the wooden vine—

A wooden table can give us wine.

Just believe, and you will see

Nature’s deepest mystery!

2290

Now draw the plugs and let it pour!

They draw the plugs, and the chosen wine flows into each glass.

ALL. Fountains of wine! There’s wine galore!

MEPHISTO. Be careful! Not a drop must fall upon the floor!

They drink again and again

ALL. [sing] We’re all as pissed as cannibals,

And happy as pigs in clover!

2295

MEPHISTO. Man is born free—and how he loves his liberty!

FAUST. I want to go, there’s nothing here for me.

MEPHISTO. Just watch a while, and you will see

A demonstration of man’s bestiality.

SIEBEL. [drinks clumsily, the wine spills on the floor and turns to flame] Help! I’m on fire! Help! These are flames from hell!

MEPHISTO. [addressing the flame]

2300

Down, friendly element! Obey my spell.

[to the drinkers] That was just a little taste of purgatory.

SIEBEL. What’s going on here? Nobody does that to me!

You don’t know how unfriendly I can be.

FROSCH. Don’t try that one on us again!

2305

ALTMAYER. We need to get this bloke outside, and quick.

SIEBEL. You have the cheek to walk in here, and then

You try to scare us with that stupid trick!

MEPHISTO. Quiet, you old wine-tub!

SIEBEL.     You beanpole!

He’s trying to insult us now as well!

2310

Just wait, we’ll kick you right back down to hell.

ALTMAYER. [pulls one of the plugs out of the table; a flame shoots up at him]

Help! I’m burning!

SIEBEL.   Sorcery! Don’t let him

Scarper, he’s an outlaw, he’s fair game. Let’s get him!

They draw their knives and advance on MEPHISTOPHELES

MEPHISTO. [with a solemn gesture]

Confuse the eye, deceive the ear,

Make a different scene appear.

2315

Be there and here!

They stand amazed and look at each other

ALTMAYER. Where am I? What a lovely place!

FROSCH. Vineyards! I’m seeing things!

SIEBEL.    Grapes right in front of your face!

BRANDER. Underneath the leaves here I can see

A luscious bunch of grapes, and all for me!

He takes hold of Siebel’s nose. The others do the same to each other and raise their knives.

2320

MEPHISTO. [as above] Illusion, let them be! I hope that shows

The lot of you you don’t mess with the Devil!

He disappears with FAUST; the drinkers let each other go.

SIEBEL. What is it?

ALTMAYER.  Eh?

FROSCH.    Is that your nose?

BRANDER. [to Siebel] And I’ve got yours! This isn’t on the level.

ALTMAYER. I felt a shock, and then I seemed to freeze.

2325

Get me a chair, I feel weak in the knees.

FROSCH. But what the hell was going on just then?

SIEBEL. Where is he? If I see that bloke again

He won’t perform his tricks here any more.

ALTMAYER. I saw him ride out of the door

2330

Astride a barrel—well, that’s what I thought I saw.

I just can’t move my feet, they feel like lead.

[turning to the table]

D’you think there’s any more wine left in there?

SIEBEL. It was a trick. We’ve all been fooled. Let’s go to bed.

FROSCH. But I did drink some wine, I swear.

2335

BRANDER. And what about those grapes we saw?

ALTMAYER. And people say they don’t believe in magic any more!

A WITCH’S KITCHEN

A low hearth with a large cauldron on the fire. In the steam rising from it various shapes can be seen. A female monkey sits by the cauldron and skims it, taking care not to let it boil over. The male monkey sits and warms himself by the fire with his young ones. The walls and ceiling are decorated with the weird paraphernalia of witchcraft.

FAUST and MEPHISTOPHELES

FAUST. These magic spells and tricks of yours repel me!

You think I’ll find recuperation, then,

Here in this bedlam, in this witch’s den?

2340

You think an ancient crone can tell me

How I’m going to shed some thirty years,

Or brew some potion that will make me young again?

But you have nothing else to offer, it appears,

And you have only raised my hopes in vain.

2345

Is there no natural remedy, has no great mind

Devised an elixir to meet my need?

MEPHISTO. My friend, this ranting isn’t very clever.

There is a natural way to make you young, indeed—

But that’s another story altogether,

2350

From a mysterious book of a quite different kind.

FAUST. Well, tell me then.

MEPHISTO.   The other way is cheap,

It needs no medicine and no magic. You just go

Out into the fields, you dig and hoe,

And plough and harrow, sow and reap;

2355

You keep yourself and all your thoughts confined

Within the limits of your small domain,

Take nourishment of the most frugal kind,

Live as a beast among your beasts, and don’t disdain

To fertilize the land you work with your own dung.

2360

That’s the best way, believe me—you will find

You’ll live for eighty years, and still be young!

FAUST. I’m just not used to it, I couldn’t stand

A narrow life like that, it’s not for me—

And I could never work upon the land.

2365

MEPHISTO. Then you must take the witch’s remedy!

FAUST. But does it have to be this ancient crone?

Why can’t you brew a potion of your own?

MEPHISTO. You don’t think I’ve got that much time to spare!

I’ve rather more important things to do, indeed.

2370

It’s not just skill and knowledge that you need,

But time and patience, and a lot of care.

The spirit must ferment for many years until

The mixture is mature and powerful enough,

And then it’s ready to distil.

2375

The witches can do all that tedious stuff—

The Devil hasn’t got the knack, although

The Devil taught them everything they know.

[he sees the animals

Look, what a charming family!

This is the servant, that’s the maid, I see.

2380

[to the animals] And your dear mistress, where is she?

ANIMALS. Can’t see you,

Gone to a do

Up the chimney-flue!

MEPHISTO. Out gallivanting! How long will she be?

2385

ANIMALS. As long as it takes to warm a paw.

MEPHISTO. [to Faust] How do you like this pretty pair?

FAUST. The most repulsive animals I ever saw!

MEPHISTO. Oh come, my friend, that’s hardly fair;

I like their lively repartee.

2390

[to the animals] So tell me, little imps from hell,

What have you got in that foul brew?

ANIMALS. We’re cooking watery beggars’ stew.

MEPHISTO. You’ll have a lot of customers—I hope they like the smell.

MALE MONKEY. [approaches Mephistopheles ingratiatingly]

Let’s throw the dice,

2395

It would be nice

To have a pot

Of gold, and then

I’d have a lot

Of sense again.

2400

MEPHISTO. How happy would this little monkey be

To have a winning ticket on the lottery!

Meanwhile the young monkeys roll a large ball around.

THE MALE MONKEY. The world’s so small,

It’s like a ball,

Up and down

2405

It rolls around.

It gleams like brass,

It’s brittle as glass.

It shines like tin,

It’s hollow within.

2410

I live, but you,

My son, beware

The danger there;

You must die too.

It’s made of clay,

2415

It’ll break one day.

MEPHISTO. And what’s this sieve?

THE MALE MONKEY. [takes down the sieve]

If you’re a thief, it’ll give

You away.

He runs to the female monkey and makes her look through it.

Look through the sieve!

2420

It’s my belief he’s a thief,

But his name you mustn’t say.

MEPHISTO. [approaching the fire] And what’s in this pan?

THE TWO ANIMALS. That’s a pot,

You silly clot!

2425

He can’t tell a pot from a pan!

MEPHISTO. You cheeky pair!

THE MALE MONKEY. Here, take this fan

And sit in the chair!

He makes MEPHISTOPHELES sit down. FAUST has meanwhile been standing in front of a mirror, moving towards it and stepping away again.

FAUST. What is this heavenly vision that I see

2430

Reflected in the magic glass in front of me?

Oh Love, lend me your wings to spread them wide

And fly me swiftly to her side!

Alas, when I approach her, when I dare

To reach out to that lovely vision there,

2435

The image blurs and fades into the air!

How is it possible, can any woman be

So beautiful, her shape so heavenly?

Shall I find anything on earth so fair?

In this recumbent body do I see

2440

The very essence of all paradisal bliss?

MEPHISTO. Of course—if God toils for six days without a break

And then congratulates himself, you’d think he’d make

A sight worth looking at like this.

Well, go ahead and feast your eyes. I can provide

2445

A sweetheart for you just like her,

And you shall have her—or, if you prefer,

You might be glad to take her as your bride!

FAUST continues to gaze into the mirror.

MEPHISTOPHELES lounges in his chair and plays with the fan.

MEPHISTO. I sit here like a monarch on his throne;

I’ve got my sceptre, but no crown to call my own.

THE ANIMALS have meanwhile been up to all sorts of strange antics.

They bring MEPHISTOPHELES a crown with loud screeches.

2450

Oh Sir, if you could,

Please mend the crown

With sweat and blood.

They fumble and drop the crown. It breaks in two, and they dance round with the pieces.

You clumsy clown!

We chatter and curse

2455

And speak in verse.

FAUST. [looking at the mirror]

I’m driven to distraction at this sight!

MEPHISTO. [pointing to the animals]

I must admit, my own head feels unsteady, too.

ANIMALS. If we get it right

Why, then we might

2460

Think just like you!

FAUST. [as above] My heart’s on fire, I just can’t stay

In here. Come on, let’s get away!

MEPHISTO. [as above] You’ve got to hand it to the little beast—

He’s quite a poet, and his verses rhyme, at least.

The cauldron, which the She-Monkey has neglected, starts to boil over; a great flame shoots up the chimney. THE WITCH comes tumbling down through the flames, screaming horribly.

2465

WITCH. Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!

A curse on you, you bloody sow!

You let the cauldron boil, you’ve burnt me now!

[she sees Faust and Mephistopheles

You stupid cow!

So who are you?

2470

And you as well?

Where did you two

Get in here, how?

I’ll shrivel you

With fire from hell!

She thrusts the ladle into the cauldron and sprays flame at FAUST, MEPHISTOPHELES and the animals. The animals whimper.

MEPHISTO. [takes the other end of the fan and lashes out at the pots and glasses]

2475

Take that, and that!

I’ll spill your brew

And smash your glasses flat!

You carrion, you old bat,

I’ll call the tune for you

2480

To whistle to.

[THE WITCH retreats in fury and terror]

You skeleton, you gargoyle, can’t you recognize

Your lord and master right before your eyes?

Why should I stop, why not smash you to bits as well,

Thrash you and your demon monkeys back to hell?

2485

Doesn’t the red doublet call for more respect?

And can’t you see my face, you loathsome dame?

You see this cockerel’s feather? Do you expect

Me to announce myself by name?

WITCH. Oh Sir, forgive my rude reception, pray,

2490

I didn’t see your cloven hoof at all—

And your two ravens, where are they?

MEPHISTO. Well, this time we’ll forget our little brawl.

It’s been some time now since I went away.

We haven’t seen each other for a while,

2495

And these days fashions change from year to year—

Even the Devil has to change his style.

Your northern Gothic Devil’s out of date, I fear,

I just can’t wear a tail or horns round here.

But I can’t go without my foot, I wish I could—

2500

It doesn’t do my reputation any good.

And so for years, as many young men do,

I’ve worn a fashionably built-up shoe.

WITCH. [dancing] I’m all of a dither, I could throw a fit—

Squire Satan here! That’s really made my day.

2505

MEPHISTO. That name’s not to be mentioned, by the way.

WITCH. Why? What the devil’s wrong with it?

MEPHISTO. It only comes in fairy stories nowadays.

But even so, humanity’s no better off—

The Evil One has gone, they’ve kept their evil ways.

2510

Just call me Baron, that will do for me—

I move in the best circles now, I’m quite a toff;

I think you know my noble pedigree,

I’ve got a coat of arms as well—this is my crest!

[he makes an obscene gesture

WITCH. [laughs immoderately]

Ha Ha! Ha Ha! Yes, that’s what you do best!

2515

You’re still the same rogue that you always were.

MEPHISTO. [to Faust] Just take a note of this, my friend, and you

Will know the way to deal with crones like her.

WITCH. Now tell me, gentlemen, what can I do?

MEPHISTO. We want a glassful of your special brew—

2520

But one that’s been a long time on the shelf.

Its strength increases with the years, I know.

WITCH. Of course! Here’s one I brewed up long ago,

I often take a drop of it myself.

It doesn’t smell at all bad, I assure you—

2525

I’d be delighted to mix up a cupful for you.

[aside to Mephistopheles]

But if he’s not prepared, this stuff could fuck him up;

A single drop could kill him on the spot.

MEPHISTO. Well, he’s a friend of mine, I need to buck him up,

So let him have the very best you’ve got.

2530

Now draw your circle, say your magic spell,

Give him a proper dose and make him well!

THE WITCH with weird gestures draws a circle and puts strange objects in it. Meanwhile the glasses start ringing and the cauldron makes a musical sound. Finally she brings a large book, makes the monkeys stand in the circle, and uses one of them as a lectern. The others hold torches. She beckons FAUST to her.

FAUST. [to Mephistopheles] Oh no, what is this rabid stuff?

These signs and gestures are absurd!

I hate this crazy ritual, I’ve heard

2535

It all before, I know it well enough.

MEPHISTO. Don’t take it all so seriously! You know

It’s not for real, it’s just for show.

She needs some mumbo-jumbo, as all doctors do,

To make her potion work—it’s nothing new.

He pushes FAUST into the circle. THE WITCH begins to recite solemnly from the book.

2540

WITCH. So hear me, then!

From one make ten,

And let two be,

The same with three—

You’re rich, you see!

2545

The four is nix,

From five and six

The witch can mix

A seven and eight,

That’s got it straight!

2550

From nine make one,

And ten is none.

That’s the witches’ one-times-one!

FAUST. The old woman’s raving now, she’s had a fit.

MEPHISTO. There’s plenty more of it to go,

2555

The whole damn book is full of it.

I’ve wasted time on it myself, so I should know.

I’ve always found that you can fox

A wise man or a fool with paradox.

It’s an old trick, but it works all the same,

2560

And every age has tried time and again

To spread not truth, but error and obscurity,

By making three of one and one of three.

And so the fools can preach and teach quite undisturbed—

Who wants to argue with them? Let them wander on;

2565

Most men believe that when they hear a simple word,

There must be some great meaning there to ponder on.

WITCH. [still reading] The mystery

Of alchemy

From all the world is hidden.

2570

But if it’s sought

Without a thought,

Then it will come unbidden!

FAUST. What is this nonsense that she’s spouting for us?

She’s giving me a headache with her blether.

2575

It’s like a hundred thousand idiots in chorus

All gibbering and chattering together.

MEPHISTO. Enough, most excellent of Sibyls, stop!

Just bring your potion over here, and please

Be sure to fill the bowl right to the top.

2580

The stuff won’t hurt him, let him drink his fill,

For he’s a man with several degrees—

He’s drunk a lot before and not been ill.

THE WITCH with much ceremonial pours the liquid into a bowl; as FAUST sets it to his lips, a gentle flame rises from it.

MEPHISTO. Down with it, quickly! Come on, drink the brew,

And that will make your heart feel young again.

2585

If you rub shoulders with the Devil, then

A little bit of fire shouldn’t worry you.

THE WITCH breaks the circle. FAUST steps out of it.

MEPHISTO. You must keep moving now, so off we go!

WITCH. I hope my little mouthful puts you right!

MEPHISTO. [to the Witch] I owe you one for this; just let me know—

2590

I’ll see you at the next Walpurgis Night.

WITCH. Here’s a song for you; you sing it twice a day—

It heightens the effect enormously, they say.

MEPHISTO. [to Faust] Come on now, quickly, you must move about;

You’ve got to sweat the potion out

2595

So it works through your system all the way.

Then you’ll be able to appreciate your leisure,

And all the more intensely feel the pleasure

When Cupid stirs you up and lights your fire.

FAUST. Let me look in that mirror just once more!

2600

That lovely woman’s all that I desire.

MEPHISTO. No, leave that phantom, and I promise you’ll enjoy

A real woman as you never have before.

[aside] A drop of that stuff in your guts, my boy,

And every woman looks like Helen of Troy.

A STREET

FAUST. MARGARETA walks by.

2605

FAUST. Fair lady, you are all alone;

May I take your arm and see you home?

MARGARETA. I’m not a lady, nor am I fair,

And I can find my own way there.

[she pulls herself away and goes

FAUST. That girl is just so lovely, she

2610

Has really captivated me.

Demure and virtuous, you can tell—

But with an impish look as well.

And such red lips and cheeks so bright,

How could you ever forget that sight!

2615

The bashful look she had just now,

It touched my heart, I can’t say how.

She sent me packing, and quite right—

But that’s what gave me such delight!

MEPHISTOPHELES enters

FAUST. I’ve got to have that girl, d’you hear?

MEPHISTO. Which one?

2620

FAUST.    The one that just went by.

MEPHISTO. But she came straight from church! I fear

The priest just gave her the all clear.

I listened to them on the sly;

She’s just too innocent, I guess—

2625

She had nothing whatever to confess.

I can’t touch her, she’s far too pure.

FAUST. But she’s over fourteen, that’s for sure.

MEPHISTO. My, what a lecher we’ve become!

He thinks he can pick them one by one.

2630

His head’s so turned by his conceit

He thinks they’ll all fall at his feet.

It’s not as simple as all that.

FAUST. Yes, you can preach and you can scoff,

But spare me all that moral chat,

2635

And just you listen carefully:

If you can’t get that girl for me,

And by tonight, I tell you, we

Are finished, and the deal is off.

MEPHISTO. Be reasonable, you randy beast.

2640

I’ll need a good two weeks at least

To sniff around and see what’s what.

FAUST. I don’t need you to show the way;

I wouldn’t take more than a day

To bed a little girl like that.

2645

MEPHISTO. You’re getting a bit French, my friend!

Why are you so impatient, though?

You mustn’t rush these things, you know—

You’ll get your pleasure in the end.

Take time to talk her round to it,

2650

Impress her, flatter her a bit.

Soften her up with little advances—

That’s how Italians get their chances.

FAUST. I can do without all that.

MEPHISTO. But seriously, I tell you flat,

2655

You can’t just have that girl today;

You’ve got to plan, prepare the way.

You’ll never get in there by force—

We’ll think of a more subtle course.

FAUST. Get me something of hers to keep,

2660

Show me where she lies asleep,

Get me a scarf that’s touched her breast,

A garter, anything she’s possessed!

MEPHISTO. Well, I’ll do everything I can

To help you on your lovesick way.

2665

We’ll not waste time; I have a plan

To take you to her room today.

FAUST. And shall I see her? Have her?

MEPHISTO.      No.

Tonight she’s at a neighbour’s, so

For a few minutes you can go

2670

And breathe the atmosphere at leisure,

And dream about your future pleasure.

FAUST. Can we go now?

MEPHISTO.  No, I’ll say when.

[exit

FAUST. Get me a present for her, then.

MEPHISTO. A present, already? Good! That’s what I like to see!

2675

I know a place where there might be

Some buried treasure to be found.

[exit

I’ll go and take a look around.

EVENING

A small, tidy room

MARGARETA. [plaiting and tying up her hair]

I wonder who that man could be

Who stopped today and spoke to me.

2680

A handsome gentleman he was,

A nobleman, I’m sure, because

He had a certain air, I knew—

[exit

And he was very forward, too.

Enter MEPHISTOPHELES and FAUST

MEPHISTO. You can come in now, the coast is clear.

2685

FAUST. [after a pause] Just leave me for a moment here.

MEPHISTO. [prying around]

[exit

Tidier than most girls are, it would appear.

FAUST. [gazing around him] The gentle light of evening falls

Into this sanctuary. Within these walls

Love’s pangs clutch at your heart, but you

2690

Must still your cravings with hope’s meagre dew.

This peaceful homestead seems to breathe

A sense of order and content.

Such poverty is wealth indeed,

And there is bliss in such imprisonment!

He throws himself into the leather chair by the bed.

2695

How many generations has this seat

Borne through all the years of joy and care!

Her forebears sat upon this very chair,

A throng of children playing at their feet.

Perhaps my love, when Christmastime was near,

2700

With pious thanks and childish cheeks so sweet

Would kiss the feeble hand that rested here.

Dear child, I sense your presence all around me,

Integrity and order everywhere.

The traces of your daily tasks surround me;

2705

The table that you set with loving care,

The sand you scattered on the flagstones there.

One touch of your dear hand, and in a trice

This humble dwelling is a paradise.

And here! [he raises the curtain round the bed]

Ah, what a shiver of delight!

2710

Here I could sit for hours and dwell

On dreaming nature’s magic spell

That fashioned that angelic sight.

As she lay here, the glowing surge

Of life pulsed in her gentle breast,

2715

And here a pure creative urge

God’s image on the child impressed.

And you! What brought you to her door?

What do you want? Why is your heart so sore?

What feelings hold you in their sway?

2720

Ah Faust, poor fool, I fear you’ve lost your way.

Is there some magic spell around me?

I lusted for her, and I find

A dream of love comes to confound me.

Are we the playthings of a breath of wind?

2725

And what if she should come while you are here?

You’d answer for your recklessness, and all

Your bold bravado would just disappear—

Abject and sighing at her feet you’d fall.

MEPHISTO. Quickly! She just came through the gate.

2730

FAUST. I’ll never come back here again. Let’s go!

MEPHISTO. Here is a box of jewels—just feel its weight;

I got it from—well, from a place I know.

Put it in this cupboard here; I swear

She’ll fall into a faint, your little dove.

2735

The finery I put in there

Was meant to win another woman’s love—

But then, they’re all just kids at heart.

FAUST. I don’t know if I should.

MEPHISTO.   Oh please, don’t start!

D’you want to keep it for yourself? Then,

2740

Lecherous Sir, I beg of you,

Think what you really want to do,

And please don’t waste my time again.

I hope you’re not a miser, too!

I rack my brains and toil away—

[he puts the casket in the cupboard and locks it up again]

2745

Now, come with me!

So you can have your wicked way

With that sweet child, and all I see

Is the sort of miserable expression

You wear before you give a lesson,

2750

As if physics and metaphysics too

Were standing there in front of you.

[exeunt

Come on!

MARGARETA with a lamp

[she opens the window

It feels so close and stuffy here,

And yet outside it’s not so warm.

2755

I don’t know why, I feel so queer—

I wish my mother were at home.

You silly girl, you’re shivering—

You really are a timid thing!

[she sings as she undresses]

There was a king in Thule, he

2760

Was faithful to the grave.

To him his dying lady

A golden goblet gave.

He would drink from no other,

It was his dearest prize;

2765

Remembering his lover

The tears would fill his eyes.

And on his death-bed lying,

To his beloved son

He left his lands, but dying

2770

He gave the cup to none.

And many a faithful vassal

And knight sat by his knee

In his ancestral castle

Beside the northern sea.

2775

One last time he drank up then,

His cheeks with wine aglow,

And hurled the sacred cup then

Into the waves below.

He watched it falling, sinking

2780

Beneath the ocean deep;

Then he had done with drinking—

His eyes were closed in sleep.

She opens the cupboard to put her clothes away, and sees the casket.

Whoever put that casket there?

I locked the cupboard up, I swear.

2785

That’s very strange! What can it be?

Perhaps it was left as surety,

And mother lent some money for it.

And here’s a ribbon with a key—

Well, really, I can’t just ignore it.

2790

But what is this? Ah, glory be!

I’ve never seen such jewels before.

All this expensive finery

Was made for some great lady, that’s for sure.

I wonder how they’d look on me?

2795

But who can it belong to, though?

She tries on some jewels and stands in front of the mirror.

I’d love to have these earrings—oh,

What a different girl you are!

But youth and beauty, what’s it worth?

It’s not your fortune on this earth;

2800

It doesn’t get you very far.

They flatter you and call you pretty,

But it’s gold they crave,

For gold they slave—

And poverty they pity!

AN AVENUE

FAUST pacing up and down, deep in thought, then MEPHISTOPHELES

2805

MEPHISTO. By all frustrated love! By all hell’s fires, and worse!

I wish I knew more dreadful things by which to curse!

FAUST. What is it now? What’s biting you today?

I never saw a face as black as yours.

MEPHISTO. I’d go to the Devil right away—

2810

That is, if I weren’t one myself, of course.

FAUST. Has something happened to disturb your mind?

This snarling and spitting suits you well, I find.

MEPHISTO. That box of jewels I got for Margaret—

A bloody priest has snaffled it!

2815

Her mother found the jewels last night—

They gave her quite a nasty fright;

That woman smells brimstone a mile away,

She’s forever kneeling down to pray.

She only needs to sniff a chair

2820

To tell the Devil’s been sitting there.

As for our jewels, well, that’s clear—

She knows there’s something fishy here.

‘Gretchen’, she says, ‘ill-gotten gold

Corrupts the heart, ensnares the soul.

2825

The Blessed Virgin must have this hoard,

And manna from heaven be our reward.’

Poor little Gretchen nearly weeps—

She thought her gift horse was for keeps,

And whoever put it in her drawer

2830

Can’t be all that bad, for sure.

Her mother summons up the priest;

He’d hardly heard her out, the beast,

When he began his peroration:

‘A Christian act! For there’s no question

2835

That victory lies in abnegation.

The Church has an excellent digestion;

It’s gobbled up countries by the score,

But still has room for a little more.

Only the Holy Church, dear ladies,

2840

Can properly digest the Devil’s wages.’

FAUST. That’s the way it is, it’s true—

But Jews and kings can do it too.

MEPHISTO. He raked those rings and bangles in

As if they were just bits of tin;

2845

He packed them up and took them away

As if this happened every day.

‘Heaven will surely reward you,’ he sighed—

And they, of course, were greatly edified.

FAUST. And Gretchen?

MEPHISTO.   She’s unhappy, too;

2850

Doesn’t know what she ought to do.

Thinks of her jewels night and day—

But even more, who put them in her way.

FAUST. The darling girl! It’s such a shame.

Well, go and get more of the same;

2855

The first ones weren’t much, anyway.

MEPHISTO. Oh yes, to you it’s just child’s play!

FAUST. Now listen, do exactly what I say:

Get to know her neighbour, act the pimp—

I never knew the Devil was such a wimp.

2860

And get more jewels—do it now, today!

MEPHISTO. Your slightest wish is my command, my lord.

[exit Faust

That lovesick fool’s completely lost his wits;

Just in case his girlfriend might get bored,

He’d blow the sun, the moon and all the stars to bits.

[exit