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		Again you show yourselves, you wavering Forms,
		Revealed, as you once were, to clouded vision.
		Shall I attempt to hold you fast once more?
		Heart’s willing still to suffer that illusion?
5		You crowd so near!  Well then, you shall endure, 
		And rouse me, from your mist and cloud’s confusion:
		My spirit feels so young again: it’s shaken
		By magic breezes that your breathings waken.
		You bring with you the sight of joyful days,
10		And many a loved shade rises to the eye: 
		And like some other half-forgotten phrase,
		First Love returns, and Friendship too is nigh:
		Pain is renewed, and sorrow: all the ways,
		Life wanders in its labyrinthine flight,
15		Naming the good, those that Fate has robbed 
		Of lovely hours, those slipped from me and lost.
		They can no longer hear this latest song,
		Spirits, to whom I gave my early singing:
		That kindly crowd itself is now long gone,
20		Alas, it dies away, that first loud ringing!  
		I bring my verses to the unknown throng,
		My heart’s made anxious even by their clapping,
		And those besides delighted by my verse,
		If they still live, are scattered through the Earth.
25		I feel a long and unresolved desire 
		For that serene and solemn land of ghosts:
		It quivers now, like an Aeolian lyre,
		My stuttering verse, with its uncertain notes,
		A shudder takes me: tear on tear, entire,
30		The firm heart feels weakened and remote: 
		What I possess seems far away from me,
		And what is gone becomes reality.
Prelude On Stage

(Director, Dramatist, Comedian)


		You two, who’ve often stood by me,
		In times of need, when trouble’s breaking,
35		Say what success our undertaking 
		Will meet with, then, in Germany?
		I’d rather like the crowd to enjoy it,
		Since they live and let live, truly.
		The stage is set, the boards complete,
40		And they await our festivity.  
		They’re seated already, eyebrows raised,
		Calmly hoping they’ll be amazed.
		I know how to make the people happy:
		But I’ve never been so embarrassed: not
45		That they’ve been used to the best, you see, 
		Yet they’ve all read such a dreadful lot.
		How can we make it all seem fresh and new,
		Weighty, but entertaining too?
		I’d love to see a joyful crowd, that’s certain,
50		When the waves drive them to our place, 
		And with tremendous and repeated surging,
		Squeeze them through the narrow gate of grace:
		In the light of day they’re there already,
		Pushing, till they’ve reached the window,
55		As if they’re at the baker’s, starving, nearly 
		Breaking their necks: just for a ticket.  Oh!
		Only poets can work this miracle on men
		So various: the day is yours, my friend!

		O, don’t speak to me of that varied crew,
60		The sight of whom makes inspiration fade.  
		Veil, from me, the surging multitude,
		Whose whirling will drives us everyway.
		No, some heavenly silence lead me to,
		Where for the poet alone pure joy’s at play:
65		Where Love and Friendship too grace our hearts, 
		Created and inspired by heavenly arts.
		Ah! What springs here from our deepest being,
		What the shy trembling lips in speaking meant,
		Now falling awry, and now perhaps succeeding,
70		Is swallowed in the fierce Moment’s violence.  
		Often, when the first years are done, unseeing,
		It appears at last, complete, in deepest sense.
		What dazzles is a Momentary act:
		What’s true is left for posterity, intact.

75		Don’t speak about posterity to me!  
		If I went on about posterity,
		Where would you get your worldly fun?
		Folk want it, and they’ll still have some.
		The presence of a fine young man
80		Is nice, I think, for everyone.  
		Who, comfortably, shares his wit,
		And to their moods takes no exception:
		He’ll make himself a greater hit,
		And win a more secure reception.
85		Be brave, and show them what you’ve got, 
		Have Fantasy with all her chorus, yes,
		Mind, Reason, Passion, Tears, the lot,
		But don’t you leave out Foolishness.

		Make sure, above all, plenty’s happening there!
90		They come to look, and then they want to stare.  
		Spin endlessly before their faces,
		So the people gape amazed,
		You’ve won them by your many paces,
		You’ll be the man most praised.
95		The mass are only moved by things en masse, 
		Each one, himself, will choose the bit he needs:
		Who brings a lot, brings something that will pass:
		And everyone goes home contentedly.
		You’ll give a piece, why then give it them in pieces!
100		With such a stew you’re destined for success.  
		Easy to serve, it’s as easy to invent.
		What use to bring them your complete intent?
		The Public will soon pick at what you’ve dressed.

		You don’t see how badly such work will do!
105		How little it suits the genuine creator!  
		Already, I see, it’s a principle with you.
		The finest master is a sloppy worker.

		Such a reproach leaves me unmoved:
		The man who seeks to be approved,
110		Must stick to the best tools for it, 
		Think, soft wood’s the best to split,
		And have a look for whom you write!
		See, this is one that boredom drives,
		Another’s from some overloaded table,
115		Or, worst of all, he’s one arrives, 
		Like most, fresh from the daily paper.
		They rush here mindlessly, as to a Masque,
		And curiosity inspires their hurry:
		The ladies bring themselves, and in their best,
120		Come and play their parts and ask no fee.  
		What dream of yours is this, exalted verse?
		Doesn’t a full house make you happy?
		Have a good look at your patrons first!
		One half are coarse, the rest are chilly.
125		After the show he hopes for card-play: 
		He hopes for a wild night, and a woman’s kiss.
		Why then do so many poor fools plague,
		The sweet Muse, for such a goal as this?
		I tell you, just give them more and more,
130		So you’ll never stray far from the mark, 
		Just seek to confuse them, in the dark:
		To keep them happy, that’s hard - for sure.
		And now what’s wrong?  Delight or Pain?

		Go, look for another scribbler by night!
135		Shall the poet throw away the highest right, 
		The right of humanity, that Nature gave,
		Carelessly, so that you might gain!
		How will he move all hearts again?
		How will each element be his slave?
140		Is that harmony nothing, from his breast unfurled, 
		That draws back into his own heart, the world?
		When Nature winds the lengthened filaments,
		Indifferently, on her eternal spindle,
		When all the tuneless mass of elements,
145		In their sullen discord, jar and jangle – 
		Who parts the ever-flowing ranks of creation,
		Stirs them, so rhythmic measure is assured?
		Who calls the One to general ordination,
		Where it may ring in marvellous accord?
150		Who lets the storm wind rage with passion, 
		The sunset glow the senses move?
		Who scatters every lovely springtime blossom
		Beneath the footsteps of the one we love?
		Who weaves the slight green wreath of leaves,
155		To honour work well done in every art?  
		What makes Olympus sure, joins deities?
		The power of Man, revealed by the bard.

		So use it then, all this fine energy,
		And drive along the work of poetry,
160		To show how we are driven in Love’s play.  
		By chance we meet, we feel, we stay,
		And bit by bit we’re tightly bound:
		Happiness grows, and then it’s fenced around:
		We’re all inflamed then comes the sorrowing:
165		Before you know it, there’s a novel brewing!  
		Why don’t we give such a piece!
		Grasp the life of man complete!
		Everyone lives, though it’s seldom confessed,
		And wherever you grasp, there’s interest.
170		In varied pictures there’s little light, 
		A lot of error, and a gleam of right,
		So the best of drinks is brewed,
		So the world’s cheered and renewed.
		Then see the flower of lovely youth collect,
175		To hear your words, and view the offering, 
		And every tender nature will extract
		A melancholy food from what you bring,
		They’ll gain now this and that from your art,
		So each sees what is present in their heart.
180		They’re readily moved to weeping or to laughter, 
		They’ll admire your verve, and enjoy the show:
		What’s finished you can never alter after:
		Minds still in growth will be grateful, though.

		So give me back that time again,
185		When I was still ‘becoming’, 
		When words gushed like a fountain
		In new, and endless flowing,
		Then for me mists veiled the world,
		In every bud the wonder glowed,
190		A thousand flowers I unfurled, 
		That every valley, richly, showed.
		I had nothing, yet enough:
		Joy in illusion, thirst for truth.
		Give every passion, free to move,
195		The deepest bliss, filled with pain, 
		The force of hate, the power of love,
		Oh, give me back my youth again!

		Youth is what you need, dear friend,
		When enemies jostle you, of course,
200		And girls, filled with desire, bend 
		Their arms around your neck, with force,
		When the swift-run race’s garland
		Beckons from the hard-won goal,
		When from the swirling dance, a man
205		Drinks until the night is old.  
		But to play that well-known lyre
		With courage and with grace,
		Moved by self-imposed desire,
		At a sweet wandering pace,
210		That is your function, Age, 
		And our respect won’t lessen.
		Age doesn’t make us childish, as they say,
		It finds that we’re still children.

		That’s enough words for the moment,
215		Now let me see some action!  
		While you’re handing out the compliments,
		You should also make things happen.
		Why talk so much of inspiration?
		Delay won’t make it flow, you see.
220		Since Poetry gave the gift of creation, 
		Take your orders then from Poetry.
		You know what’s wanted here,
		We need strong ale to appear:
		So brew me a barrel right away!
225		Tomorrow won’t do what’s undone today, 
		We shouldn’t waste a minute, so
		Decide what’s possible, and just
		Grasp it firmly like a hoe,
		Make sure that you let nothing go,
230		And work it about, because you must.  
		On the German stage, you see,
		Everyone tries out what he can:
		Don’t fail to show me, I’m your man,
		Your trap-doors, and your scenery.
235		Use heavenly lights, the big and small, 
		Squander stars in any number,
		Rocky cliffs, and fire, and water,
		Birds and creatures, use them all.
		So in our narrow playhouse waken
240		The whole wide circle of creation, 
		And stride, deliberately, as well,
		From Heaven, through the world, to Hell.
Prologue In Heaven

(God, the Heavenly Hosts, and then Mephistopheles.)

(The Three Archangels step forward.)


		The Sun sings out, in ancient mode,
		His note among his brother-spheres,
245		And ends his pre-determined road, 
		With peals of thunder for our ears.
		The sight of him gives Angels power,
		Though none can understand the way:
		The inconceivable work is ours,
250		As bright as on the primal day.  

		And swift, and swift, beyond conceiving,
		The splendour of the Earth turns round,
		A Paradisial light is interleaving,
		With night’s awesome profound.
255		The ocean breaks with shining foam, 
		Against the rocky cliffs deep base,
		And rock and ocean whirl and go,
		In the spheres’ swift eternal race.

		And storms are roaring in their race
260		From sea to land, and land to sea, 
		Their raging forms a fierce embrace,
		All round, of deepest energy.
		The lightning’s devastations blaze
		Along the thunder-crashes’ way:
265		Yet, Lord, your messengers, shall praise 
		The gentle passage of your day.
All Three

		The sight of it gives Angels power
		Though none can understand the way,
		And all your noble work is ours,
270		As bright as on the primal day.  

		Since, O Lord, you near me once again,
		To ask how all below is doing now,
		And usually receive me without pain,
		You see me too among the vile crowd.
275		Forgive me: I can’t speak in noble style, 
		And since I’m still reviled by this whole crew,
		My pathos would be sure to make you smile,
		If you had not renounced all laughter too.
		You’ll get no word of suns and worlds from me.
280		How men torment themselves is all I see.  
		The little god of Earth sticks to the same old way,
		And is as strange as on that very first day.
		He might appreciate life a little more: he might,
		If you hadn’t lent him a gleam of Heavenly light:
285		He calls it Reason, but only uses it 
		To be more a beast than any beast as yet.
		He seems to me, saving Your Grace,
		Like a long-legged grasshopper: through space
		He’s always flying: he flies and then he springs,
290		And in the grass the same old song he sings.  
		If he’d just lie there in the grass it wouldn’t hurt!
		But he buries his nose in every piece of dirt.

		Have you nothing else to name?
		Do you always come here to complain?
295		Does nothing ever go right on the Earth?  

		No, Lord!  I find, as always, it couldn’t be worse.
		I’m so involved with Man’s wretched ways,
		I’ve even stopped plaguing them, myself, these days.

		Do you know, Faust?


		The Doctor?

		My servant, first!

300		In truth!  He serves you in a peculiar manner.  
		There’s no earthly food or drink at that fool’s dinner.
		He drives his spirit outwards, far,
		Half-conscious of its maddened dart:
		From Heaven demands the brightest star,
305		And from the Earth, Joy’s highest art, 
		And all the near and all the far,
		Fails to release his throbbing heart.

		Though he’s still confused at how to serve me,
		I’ll soon lead him to a clearer dawning,
310		In the green sapling, can’t the gardener see 
		The flowers and fruit the coming years will bring.

		What do you wager?  I might win him yet!
		If you give me your permission first,
		I’ll lead him gently on the road I set.

315		As long as he’s alive on Earth, 
		So long as that I won’t forbid it,
		For while man strives he errs.

		My thanks: I’ve never willingly seen fit
		To spend my time amongst the dead,
320		I much prefer fresh cheeks instead.  
		To corpses, I close up my house:
		Or it’s too like a cat with a mouse.

		Well and good, you’ve said what’s needed!
		Divert this spirit from his source,
		You know how to trap him, lead him,
325		On your downward course, 
		And when you must, then stand, amazed:
		A good man, in his darkest yearning,
		Is still aware of virtue’s ways.

330		That’s fine!  There’s hardly any waiting.  
		My wager’s more than safe I’m thinking.
		When I achieve my goal, in winning,
		You’ll let me triumph with a swelling heart.
		He’ll eat the dust, and with an art,
335		Like the snake my mother, known for sinning.  

		You can appear freely too:
		Those like you I’ve never hated.
		Of all the spirits who deny, it’s you,
		The jester, who’s most lightly weighted.
340		Man’s energies all too soon seek the level, 
		He quickly desires unbroken slumber,
		So I gave him you to join the number,
		To move, and work, and play the devil.
		But you the genuine sons of light,
345		Enjoy the living beauty bright!  
		Becoming, that works and lives forever,
		Embrace you in love’s limits dear,
		And all that may as Appearance waver,
		Fix firmly with everlasting Idea!
(Heaven closes, and the Archangels separate.)

Mephistopheles (alone)

350		I like to hear the Old Man’s words, from time to time, 
		And take care, when I’m with him, not to spew.
		It’s very nice when such a great Gentleman,
		Chats with the devil, in ways so human, too!
Scene I: Night

(In a high-vaulted Gothic chamber, Faust, in a chair at his desk,

		Ah! Now I’ve done Philosophy,
355		I’ve finished Law and Medicine, 
		And sadly even Theology:
		Taken fierce pains, from end to end.
		Now here I am, a fool for sure!
		No wiser than I was before:
360		Master, Doctor’s what they call me, 
		And I’ve been ten years, already,
		Crosswise, arcing, to and fro,
		Leading my students by the nose,
		And see that we can know - nothing!
365		It almost sets my heart burning.  
		I’m cleverer than all these teachers,
		Doctors, Masters, scribes, preachers:
		I’m not plagued by doubt or scruple,
		Scared by neither Hell nor Devil –
370		Instead all Joy is snatched away, 
		What’s worth knowing, I can’t say,
		I can’t say what I should teach
		To make men better or convert each.
		And then I’ve neither goods nor gold,
375		No worldly honour, or splendour hold: 
		Not even a dog would play this part!
		So I’ve given myself to Magic art,
		To see if, through Spirit powers and lips,
		I might have all secrets at my fingertips.
380		And no longer, with rancid sweat, so, 
		Still have to speak what I cannot know:
		That I may understand whatever
		Binds the world’s innermost core together,
		See all its workings, and its seeds,
385		Deal no more in words’ empty reeds.  
		O, may you look, full moon that shines,
		On my pain for this last time:
		So many midnights from my desk,
		I have seen you, keeping watch:
390		When over my books and paper, 
		Saddest friend, you appear!
		Ah! If on the mountain height
		I might stand in your sweet light,
		Float with spirits in mountain caves,
395		Swim the meadows in twilight’ waves, 
		Free from the smoke of knowledge too,
		Bathe in your health-giving dew!
		Alas!  In this prison must I stick?
		This hollow darkened hole of brick,
400		Where even the lovely heavenly light 
		Shines through stained glass, dull not bright.
		Hemmed in, by heaps of books,
		Piled to the highest vault, and higher,
		Worm eaten, decked with dust,
405		Surrounded by smoke-blackened paper, 
		Glass vials, boxes round me, hurled,
		Stuffed with Instruments thrown together,
		Packed with ancestral lumber –
		This is my world!  And what a world!
410		And need you ask why my heart 
		Makes such tremors in my breast?
		Why all my life-energies are
		Choked by some unknown distress?
		Smoke and mildew hem me in,
415		Instead of living Nature, then, 
		Where God once created Men,
		Bones of creatures, and dead limbs!
		Fly!  Upwards!  Into Space, flung wide!
		Isn’t this book, with secrets crammed,
420		From Nostradamus’ very hand, 
		Enough to be my guide?
		When I know the starry road,
		And Nature, you instruct me,
		My soul’s power, you shall flow,
425		As spirits can with spirits be.  
		Useless, this dusty pondering here
		To read the sacred characters:
		Soar round me, Spirits, and be near:
		If you hear me, then answer!
(He opens the Book, and sees the Symbol of the Macrocosm)

430		Ah! In a moment, what bliss flows 
		Through my senses from this Sign!
		I feel life’s youthful, holy joy: it glows,
		Fresh in every nerve and vein of mine.
		This symbol now that calms my inward raging,
435		Perhaps a god deigned to write, 
		Filling my poor heart with delight,
		And with its mysterious urging
		Revealing, round me, Nature’s might?
		Am I a god?  All seems so clear to me!
440		It seems the deepest works of Nature 
		Lie open to my soul, with purest feature.
		Now I understand what wise men see:
		“The world of spirits is not closed:
		Your senses are: your heart is dead!
445		Rise, unwearied, disciple: bathe instead 
		Your earthly breast in the morning’s glow!”
(He gazes at the Symbol.)

		How each to the Whole its selfhood gives,
		One in another works and lives!
		How Heavenly forces fall and rise,
450		Golden vessels pass each other by!  
		Blessings from their wings disperse:
		They penetrate from Heaven to Earth,
		Sounding a harmony through the Universe!
		Such a picture!  Ah, alas!  Merely a picture!
455		How then can I grasp you endless Nature?  
		Where are your breasts that pour out Life entire,
		To which the Earth and Heavens cling so,
		Where withered hearts would drink?  You flow
		You nourish, yet I languish so, in vain desire.
(He strikes the book indignantly, and catches sight of the Symbol
of the Earth-Spirit.)

460		How differently it works on me, this Sign!  
		You, the Spirit of Earth, are nearer:
		Already, I feel my power is greater,
		Already, I glow, as with fresh wine.
		I feel the courage to engage the world,
465		Into the pain and joy of Earth be hurled, 
		And though the storm wind is unfurled,
		Fearless, in the shipwreck’s teeth, be whirled.
		There’s cloud above me –
		The Moon hides its light –
		The lamp flickers!
470		Now it dies!  Crimson rays dart 
		Round my head – Horror
		Flickers from the vault above,
		And grips me tight!
475		I feel you float around me, 
		Spirit, I summon to appear, speak to me!
		Ah! What tears now at the core of me!
		All my senses reeling
		With fresh feeling!
480		I feel you draw my whole heart towards you!  
		You must!  You must!  Though my Life’s lost, too!
(He grips the book and speaks the mysterious name of the Spirit.  A
crimson flame flashes, the Spirit appears in the flame.)


		Who calls me?

Faust (Looking away)

		Terrible to gaze at!


		Mightily you have drawn me to you,
		Long, from my sphere, snatched your food,
		And now –

485		Ah! Endure you, I cannot!  


		You beg me to show myself, you implore,
		You wish to hear my voice, and see my face:
		The mighty prayer of your soul weighs
		With me, I am here!  – What wretched terror
490		Grips you, the Superhuman!  Where is your soul’s calling?  
		Where is the heart that made a world inside, enthralling:
		Carried it, nourished it, swollen with joy, so tremulous,
		That you too might be a Spirit, one of us?
		Where are you, Faust, whose ringing voice
495		Drew towards me with all your force?  
		Are you he, who, breathing my breath,
		Trembles in all your life’s depths,
		A fearful, writhing worm?

		Shall I fear you: you form of fire?
500		I am, I am Faust: I am your peer!  

		In Life’s wave, in action’s storm,
		I float, up and down,
		I blow, to and fro!
		Birth and the tomb,
505		An eternal flow, 
		A woven changing,
		A glow of Being.
		Over Time’s quivering loom intent,
		Working the Godhead’s living garment.

510		You who wander the world, on every hand, 
		Active Spirit, how close to you I feel!

		You’re like the Spirit that you understand
		Not me!
(It vanishes.)

Faust (Overwhelmed)

		Not you?
515		Who then?  
		I, the image of the Godhead!
		Not even like you?
(A knock.)

		Oh, fate!  I know that sound – it’s my attendant –
		My greatest fortune’s ruined!
520		In all the fullness of my doing, 
		He must intrude, that arid pedant!
(Wagner enters, in gown and nightcap, lamp in hand.  Faust turns to
him impatiently.)


		Forgive me!  But I heard you declaim:
		Reading, I’m sure, from some Greek tragedy?
		To profit from that art is my aim,
525		Nowadays it goes down splendidly.  
		I’ve often heard it claimed, you see
		A priest could learn from the Old Comedy.

		Yes, when the priest’s a comedian already:
		Which might well seem to be the case.

530		Ah! When a man’s so penned in his study, 
		And scarcely sees the world on holidays,
		And barely through the glass, and far off then,
		How can he lead men, through persuading them?

		You can’t, if you can’t feel it, if it never
535		Rises from the soul, and sways 
		The heart of every single hearer,
		With deepest power, in simple ways.
		You’ll sit forever, gluing things together,
		Cooking up a stew from other’s scraps,
540		Blowing on a miserable fire, 
		Made from your heap of dying ash.
		Let apes and children praise your art,
		If their admiration’s to your taste,
		But you’ll never speak from heart to heart,
545		Unless it rises up from your heart’s space.  

		Still, lecturing brings orators success:
		I feel that I am far behind the rest.

		Seek to profit honestly!
		Don’t be an empty tinkling fool!
550		Understanding, and true clarity, 
		Express themselves without art’s rule!
		And if you mean what you say,
		Why hunt for words, anyway?
		Yes, your speech, that glitters so,
555		Where you gather scraps for Man, 
		Is dead as the mist-filled winds that blow
		Through the dried-up leaves of autumn!

		Oh, God!  Art is long
		And life is short.
560		Often the studies that I’m working on 
		Make me anxious, in my head and heart.
		How hard it is to command the means
		By which a man attains the very source!
		Before a man has travelled half his course,
565		The wretched devil has to die it seems.  

		Parchment then, is that your holy well,
		From which drink always slakes your thirst?
		You’ll never truly be refreshed until
		It pours itself from your own soul, first.

570		Pardon me, but it’s a great delight 
		When, moved by the spirit of the ages, we have sight
		Of how a wiser man has thought, and how
		Widely at last we’ve spread his word about.

		Oh yes, as widely as the constellations!
575		My friend, all of the ages that are gone 
		Now make up a book with seven seals.
		The spirit of the ages, that you find,
		In the end, is the spirit of Humankind:
		A mirror where all the ages are revealed.
580		And so often it’s all a mere misery 
		Something we run away from at first sight.
		A pile of sweepings, a lumber room, maybe
		At best, a puppet show, that’s bright
		With maxims, excellent, pragmatic,
585		Suitable when dolls’ mouths wax dramatic!  

		But, the world!  Men’s hearts and minds!
		Something of those, at least, I’d like to know.

		Yes, what men choose to understand!
		Who dares to name the child’s real name, though?
590		The few who knew what might be learned, 
		Foolish enough to put their whole heart on show,
		And reveal their feelings to the crowd below,
		Mankind has always crucified and burned.
		I beg you, friend, it’s now the dead of night,
595		We must break up this conversation.  

		I would have watched with you, if I might
		Speak with you still, so learned in oration.
		But tomorrow, on Easter’s first holy day,
		I’ll ask my several questions, if I may.
600		I’ve pursued my work, zealously studying: 
		There’s much I know: yet I’d know everything.
(He leaves.)

Faust (Alone.)

		That mind alone never loses hope,
		That keeps to the shallows eternally,
		Grabs, with eager hand, the wealth it sees,
605		And rejoices at the worms for which it gropes!  
		Dare such a human voice echo, too,
		Where this depth of Spirit surrounds me?
		Ah yet!  For just this once, my thanks to you,
		You sorriest of all earth’s progeny!
610		You’ve torn me away from that despair, 
		That would have soon overwhelmed my senses.
		Ah! The apparition was so hugely there,
		It might have truly dwarfed my defences.
		I, image of the Godhead, already one,
615		Who thought the spirit of eternal truth so near, 
		Enjoying the light, both heavenly and clear,
		Setting to one side the earthbound man:
		I, more than Angel, a free force,
		Ready to flow through Nature’s veins,
620		And, in creating, enjoy the life divine, 
		Pulsing with ideas: must atone again!
		A word like thunder swept me away.
		I dare not measure myself against you.
		I possessed the power to summon you,
625		But not the power to make you stay.  
		In that blissful moment, then
		I felt myself so small, so great:
		Cruelly you hurled me back again,
		Into Man’s uncertain state.
630		What shall I learn from?  Or leave?  
		Shall I obey that yearning?
		Ah! Our actions, and not just our grief,
		Impede us on life’s journey.
		Some more and more alien substance presses
635		On the splendour that the Mind conceives: 
		And when we gain what this world possesses,
		We say the better world’s dream deceives.
		The splendid feelings that give us life,
		Fade among the crowd’s earthly strife.
640		If imagination flew with courage, once, 
		And, full of hope, stretched out to eternity,
		Now a little room is quite enough,
		When joy on joy has gone, in time’s whirling sea.
		Care has nested in the heart’s depths,
645		Restless, she rocks there, spoiling joy and rest, 
		There she works her secret pain,
		And wears new masks, ever and again,
		Appears as wife and child, fields and houses,
		As water, fire, or knife or poison:
650		Still we tremble for what never strikes us, 
		And must still cry for what has not yet gone.
		I am no god: I feel it all too deeply.
		I am the worm that writhes in dust: see,
		As in the dust it lives, and seeks to eat,
655		It’s crushed and buried by the passing feet.  
		Is this not dust, what these vaults hold,
		These hundred shelves that cramp me:
		This junk, and all the thousand-fold
		Shapes, of a moth-ridden world, around me?
660		Will I find here what I’m lacking else, 
		Shall I read, perhaps, as a thousand books insist,
		That Mankind everywhere torments itself,
		So, here and there, some happy man exists?
		What do you say to me, bare grinning skull?
665		Except that once your brain whirled like mine, 
		Sought the clear day, and in the twilight dull,
		With a breath of truth, went wretchedly awry.
		For sure, you instruments mock at me,
		With cylinders and arms, wheels and cogs:
670		I stand at the door: and you should be the key: 
		You’re deftly cut, but you undo no locks.
		Mysterious, even in broad daylight,
		Nature won’t let her veil be raised:
		What your spirit can’t bring to sight,
675		Won’t by screws and levers be displayed.  
		You, ancient tools, I’ve never used
		You’re here because my father used you,
		Ancient scroll, you’ve darkened too,
		From smoking candles burned above you.
680		Better the little I had was squandered, 
		Than sweat here under its puny weight!
		What from your father you’ve inherited,
		You must earn again, to own it straight.
		What’s never used, leaves us overburdened,
685		But we can use what the Moment may create!  
		Yet why does that place so draw my sight,
		Is that flask a magnet for my gaze?
		Why is there suddenly so sweet a light,
		As moonlight in a midnight woodland plays?
690		I salute you, phial of rare potion, 
		I lift you down, with devotion!
		In you I worship man’s art and mind,
		Embodiment of sweet sleeping draughts:
		Extract, with deadly power, refined,
695		Show your master all his craft!  
		I see you, and my pain diminishes,
		I grasp you, and my struggles grow less,
		My spirit’s flood tide ebbs, more and more,
		I seem to be where ocean waters meet,
700		A glassy flood gleams around my feet, 
		New day invites me to a newer shore.
		A fiery chariot sweeps nearer
		On light wings!  I feel ready, free
		To cut a new path through the ether
705		And reach new spheres of pure activity.  
		This greater life, this godlike bliss!
		You, but a worm, have you earned this?
		Choosing to turn your back, ah yes,
		On all Earth’s lovely Sun might promise!
710		Let me dare to throw those gates open, 
		That other men go creeping by!
		Now’s the time, to prove through action
		Man’s dignity may rise divinely high,
		Never trembling at that void where,
715		Imagination damns itself to pain, 
		Striving towards the passage there,
		Round whose mouth all Hell’s fires flame:
		Choose to take that step, happy to go
		Where danger lies, where Nothingness may flow.
720		Come here to me, cup of crystal, clear!  
		Free of your ancient cover now appear,
		You whom I’ve never, for many a year,
		Considered!  You shone at ancestral feasts,
		Cheering the over-serious guests:
725		One man passing you to another here.  
		It was the drinker’s duty to explain in rhyme
		The splendour of your many carved designs
		Or drain it at a draught, and breathe, in time:
		You remind me of those youthful nights of mine.
730		Now I will never pass you to a friend, 
		Or test my wits on your art again.
		Here’s a juice will stun any man born:
		It fills your hollow with a browner liquid.
		I prepared it, now I choose the fluid,
735		At last I drink, and with my soul I bid 
		A high and festive greeting to the Dawn!
(He puts the cup to his mouth.)

(Bells chime and a choir sings.)

Choir of Angels

		Christ has arisen!
		Joy to the One, of us,
		Who the pernicious,
740		Ancestral, insidious, 
		Fault has unwoven.

		What deep humming, what shining sound
		Strikes the glass from my hand with power?
		Already, do the hollow bells resound,
745		Proclaiming Easter’s festive course?  Our 
		Choirs, do you already sing the hymn of consolation,
		Which once rang out, in deathly night, in Angels’ oration,
		That certainty of a new testament’s hour?
Chorus of Women

		With pure spices
750		We embalmed him, 
		We his faithful
		We entombed him:
		Linen and bindings,
		We unwound there,
755		Ah! Now we find 
		Christ is not here.
Choir of Angels

		Christ has arisen!
		Blissful Beloved,
		Out of what grieved,
760		Tested, and healed: 
		His trial is won.

		You heavenly sounds, powerful and mild,
		Why, in the dust, here, do you seek me?
		Ring out where tender hearts are reconciled.
765		I hear your message, but faith fails me: 
		The marvellous is faith’s dearest child.
		I don’t attempt to rise to that sphere,
		From which the message rings:
		Yet I know from childhood what it sings,
770		And I’m recalled to life once more.  
		In other times a Heavenly kiss would fall
		On me, in the deep Sabbath silence:
		The bell notes filled with presentiments,
		And a prayer was pleasure’s call:
775		A sweet yearning, beyond my understanding, 
		Set me wandering through woods and fields,
		And while a thousand tears were burning
		I felt a world around me come to be.
		Love called out the lively games of youth,
780		The joy of spring’s idle holiday: 
		Memory’s childish feelings, in truth,
		Hold me back from the last sombre way.
		O, sing on you sweet songs of Heaven!
		My tears flow, Earth claims me again!
Chorus of Disciples

785		Has the buried one 
		Already, living,
		Raised himself, alone,
		Splendidly soaring:
		Is he, in teeming air,
790		Near to creative bliss: 
		Ah! In sorrow, we’re
		Here on Earth’s breast.
		Lacking Him, we
		Languish, and sigh.
795		Ah! Master we 
		Cry for your joy!
Choir of Angels

		Christ has arisen
		Out of corruption’s sea.
		Tear off your bindings
800		Joyfully free!  
		Actively praising him,
		Lovingly claiming him,
		Fraternally aiding him,
		Prayerfully journeying,
805		Joyfully promising, 
		So is the Master near,
		So is he here!
Scene II: In Front Of The City-Gate

(Passers-by of all kinds appear.)

Several Apprentices

		So, then, where are you away to?


		We’re away to the Hunting Lodge.

The Former

810		We’re off to saunter by the Mill.  

An Apprentice

		Off to the Riverside Inn, I’d guess.

A Second Apprentice

		The way there’s not of the best.

The Others

		What about you?

A Third

		I’m with the others, still.

A Fourth

		Come to the Castle, you’ll find there
815		The prettiest girls, the finest beer, 
		And the best place for a fight.
A Fifth

		You quarrelsome fool, are you looking
		For a third good hiding?
		Not for me, that place, I hate its very sight.
A Maidservant

820		No, No! I’m going back to town.  


		We’ll find him by those poplar trees for sure.

The First

		Well that’s no joy for me, now:
		He’ll walk by your side, of course,
		He’ll dance with you on the green.
825		Where’s the fun in that for me, then!  
The Other

		I’m sure he’s not alone, he said
		He’d bring along that Curly-head.
A Student

		My how they strut those bold women!
		Brother, come on!  We’ll follow them.
830		Fierce tobacco, strong beer, 
		And a girl in her finery, I prefer.
A Citizen’s Daughter

		They are handsome boys there, I see!
		But it’s truly a disgrace:
		They could have the best of company,
835		And run after a painted face!  
Second Student (to the first)

		Not so fast!  Those two behind,
		They walk about so sweetly,
		One must be that neighbour of mine:
		I could fall for her completely.
840		They pass by with demure paces, 
		But in the end they’ll go with us.
The First

		Brother, no!  I shouldn’t bother, anyway.
		Quick!  Before our quarry gets away.
		The hand that wields a broom on Saturday,
845		Gives the best caress, on Sunday too, I say.  

		No, the new mayor doesn’t suit me!
		Now he’s there he’s getting cocky.
		And what’s he done to help the town?
		Isn’t it getting worse each day?
850		As always it’s us who must obey, 
		And pay more money down.
A Beggar (sings)

		Fine gentlemen, and lovely ladies,
		Rosy-cheeked and finely dressed,
		You could help me, for your aid is
855		Needed: see, ease my distress!  
		Don’t let me throw my song away,
		Only he who gives is happy.
		A day when all men celebrate,
		Will be a harvest day for me!
Another Citizen

860		On holidays there’s nothing I like better 
		Than talking about war and war’s display,
		When in Turkey far away,
		People one another batter.
		You sit by the window: have a glass:
865		See the bright boats glide down the river, 
		Then you walk back home and bless
		Its peacefulness, and peace, forever.
Third Citizen

		Neighbour, yes!  I like that too:
		Let them go and break their heads,
870		Make the mess they often do: 
		So long as we’re safe in our beds.
An Old Woman (to the citizen’s daughter)

		Ah! So pretty!  Sweet young blood!
		Who wouldn’t gaze at you?
		Don’t be so proud!  I’m very good!
875		And what you want, I’ll bring you.  
The Citizen’s Daughter

		Agatha, come away!  I must go carefully:
		No walking freely with such a witch as her:
		For on Saint Andrew’s Night she really
		Showed me who’ll be my future Lover.
The Other

880		She showed me mine in a crystal ball, 
		A soldier, with lots of other brave men:
		I look around: among them all,
		Yet I can never find him.
The Soldiers

		Castles with towering
885		Ramparts and wall, 
		Proud girls showing
		Disdain for us all,
		We want them to fall!
		The action is brave,
890		And splendid the pay!  
		So let the trumpet,
		Do our recruiting,
		Calling to joy
		Calling to ruin.
895		It’s a storm, blowing!  
		But it’s the life too!
		Girls and castles
		We must win you.
		The action is brave,
900		Splendid the pay!  
		And the soldiers
		Go marching away.
(Faust and Wagner)


		Rivers and streams are freed from ice
		By Spring’s sweet enlivening glance.
905		Valleys, green with Hope’s happiness, dance: 
		Old Winter, in his weakness, sighs,
		Withdrawing to the harsh mountains.
		From there, retreating, he sends down
		Impotent showers of hail that show
910		In stripes across the quickening ground.  
		But the sun allows nothing white below,
		Change and growth are everywhere,
		He enlivens all with his colours there,
		And lacking flowers of the fields outspread,
915		He takes these gaudy people instead.  
		Turn round, and from this mountain height,
		Look down, where the town’s in sight.
		That cavernous, dark gate,
		The colourful crowd penetrate,
920		All will take the sun today, 
		The Risen Lord they’ll celebrate,
		And feel they are resurrected,
		From low houses, dully made,
		From work, where they’re constricted,
925		From the roofs’ and gables’ weight, 
		From the crush of narrow streets,
		From the churches’ solemn night
		They’re all brought to the light.
		Look now: see!  The crowds, their feet
930		Crushing the gardens and meadows, 
		While on the river a cheerful fleet
		Of little boats, everywhere it flows.
		And over-laden, ready to sink,
		The last barge takes to the stream.
		From far off on the mountain’s brink,
		All the bright clothing gleams.
		I hear the noise from the village risen,
		Here is the people’s true Heaven,
		High and low shout happily:
940		Here I am Man: here, dare to be!  

		Doctor, to take a walk with you,
		Is an honour and a prize:
		Alone I’d have no business here, true,
		Since everything that’s coarse I despise.
945		Shrieking, fiddlers, skittles flying, 
		To me it’s all a hateful noise:
		They rush about possessed, crying,
		And call it singing: and call it joy.
(Farm-workers under the lime tree.  Dance and Song.)

		The shepherd for the dance, had on
950		His gaudy jacket, wreath, and ribbon, 
		Making a fine show,
		Under the linden-tree, already,
		Everyone was dancing madly.
		Hey!  Hey!
955		Hurrah!  Hurray!  
		So goes the fiddle-bow.
		In his haste, in a whirl,
		He stumbled against a girl,
		With his elbow flailing:
960		Lively, she turned, and said: 
		Mind out, you wooden-head!
		Hey!  Hey!
		Hurrah!  Hurray!
		Just watch where you’re sailing!
965		Fast around the circle bright, 
		They danced to left and right,
		Skirts and jackets flying.
		They grew red: they grew warm,
		They rested, panting, arm on arm
970		Hey!  Hey!  
		Hurrah!  Hurray!
		And hip, and elbow, lying.
		Don’t be so familiar then!
		That’s how many a lying man,
975		Cheated his wife so!  
		But he soon tempted her aside,
		And from the linden echoed wide:
		Hey!  Hey!
		Hurrah!  Hurray!
980		So goes the fiddle-bow.  
An Old Farmer

		Doctor, it’s good of you today
		Not to shun the crowd,
		So that among the folk, at play,
		The learned man walks about.
985		Then have some from the finest jug 
		That we’ve filled with fresh ale first,
		I offer it now and wish it would,
		Not only quench your thirst:
		But the count of drops it holds
990		May it exceed your hours, all told.  

		I’ll take some of your foaming drink,
		And offer you all, health and thanks.
(The people gather round him in a circle.)

The Old Farmer

		Truly, it’s a thing well done:
		You’re here on our day of happiness,
		Since in evil times now gone,
		You’ve eased our distress!
		Many a man stands here alive,
		Whom your father, at the last,
		Snatched from the fever’s rage,
1000		While the plague went past.  
		And you, only a young man, went,
		Into every house of sickness, then,
		Though many a corpse was carried forth,
		You walked safely out again.
1005		Many a hard trial you withstood, 
		A Helper helped by the Helper above.

		Health to the man who’s proven true,
		Long may he help me and you!

		To Him above bow down instead,
1010		Who teaches help, and sends his aid.  
(He walks off, with Wagner.)


		How it must feel, O man of genius,
		To be respected by the crowd!
		O happy he whose gifts endow
		Him with such advantages!
1015		The father shows you to his son, now 
		Each one asks and pushes near,
		The fiddle halts, and the dancers there:
		You pass: in ranks they stop to see,
		And throw their caps high in the air:
1020		A little more and they’d bend the knee, 
		As if what they worshipped was holy.

		Climb these few steps to that stone,
		Here we’ll rest from our wandering.
		Here I’ve sat often, thoughtful and alone,
1025		Tormenting myself with prayer and fasting.  
		Rich in hope, and firm of faith,
		Wringing my hands, with sighs even,
		Tears, to force the end of plague
		From the very God of Heaven.
1030		The crowd’s approval now’s like scorn.  
		O if you could read within me
		How little the father and the son
		Deserve a fraction of their glory.
		My father was a gloomy, honourable man,
1035		Who pondered Nature and the heavenly spheres, 
		Honestly, in his own fashion,
		With eccentric studies it appears:
		He, in his adepts’ company,
		Locked in his dark workshop, forever
1040		Tried with endless recipes, 
		To make things opposite flow together.
		The fiery Lion, a daring suitor,
		Wed the Lily, in a lukewarm bath, there
		In a fiery flame, both of them were
1045		Strained from one bride-bed into another, 
		Until the young Queen was descried,
		In a mix of colours, in the glass:
		There was the medicine: the patient died.
		And who recovered?  No one asked.
1050		So we roamed, with our hellish pills, 
		Among the valleys and the hills,
		Worse than the pestilence itself we were.
		I’ve poisoned a thousand: that’s quite clear:
		And now from the withered old must hear
1055		How men praise a shameless murderer.  

		How can you grieve at that!
		Isn’t it enough for an honest man
		To exercise the skill he has,
		Carefully, precisely, as given?
1060		Honour your father as a youth, 
		And receive his teaching in your soul,
		As a man, then, add to scientific truth,
		So your son can achieve a higher goal.

		O happy the man who still can hope
1065		Though drowned in a sea of error!  
		Man needs the things he doesn’t know,
		What he knows is useless, forever.
		But don’t let such despondency
		Spoil the deep goodness of the hour!
1070		In the evening glow, we see 
		The houses gleaming, green-embowered.
		Mild it retreats, the day that’s left,
		It slips away to claim new being.
		Ah, that no wing from earth can lift
1075		Me, closer and closer to it, striving!  
		I’d see, in eternal evening’s light,
		The silent Earth beneath my feet, forever,
		The heights on fire, each valley quiet
		While silver streams flow to a golden river.
1080		The wild peaks with their deep clefts, 
		Would cease to bar my godlike way,
		Already the sea with its warm depths,
		Opens to my astonished gaze.
		At last the weary god sinks down to night:
1085		But in me a newer yearning wakes, 
		I hasten on, drinking his endless light:
		The dark behind me: and ahead the day.
		Heaven above me: and the waves below,
		A lovely dream, although it vanishes.
1090		Ah! Wings of the mind, so weightless 
		No bodily wings could ever be so.
		Yet it’s natural in every spirit, too,
		That feeling drives us, up and on,
		When over us, lost in the vault of blue,
1095		The lark sings his piercing song, 
		When over the steep pine-filled peaks,
		The eagle widely soars,
		And across the plains and seas,
		The cranes seek their home shores.

1100		I’ve often had strange moments, I know, 
		But I’ve never felt yearnings quite like those:
		The joys of woods and fields soon fade
		I wouldn’t ask the birds for wings: indeed,
		How differently the mind’s raptures lead
1105		Us on, from book to book, and page to page!  
		Then winter nights are beautiful, and sweet,
		A blissful warmth steals through your limbs, too
		When you’ve unrolled some noble text, complete,
		Oh, how heaven’s light descends on you!

1110		You only feel the one yearning at best, 
		Oh, never seek to know the other!
		Two souls, alas, exist in my breast,
		One separated from another:
		One, with its crude love of life, just
1115		Clings to the world, tenaciously, grips tight, 
		The other soars powerfully above the dust,
		Into the far ancestral height.
		Oh, let the spirits of the air,
		Between the heavens and Earth, weaving,
1120		Descend through the golden atmosphere, 
		And lead me on to new and varied being!
		Yes, if a magic cloak were mine, that
		Would carry me off to foreign lands,
		Not for the costliest garment in my hands,
1125		For the mantle of a king, would I resign it!  

		Don’t call to that familiar crowd,
		Streaming in misty circles, spreading,
		Preparing a thousand dangers now,
		On every side, for human beings.
1130		The North winds’ sharp teeth penetrate, 
		Down here, and spit you with their fangs:
		Then the East’s drying winds are at the gate,
		To feed themselves on your lungs.
		If, from the South, the desert sends them,
1135		And fire on fire burns on your brow, 
		The West brings a swarm to quench them,
		And you and field and meadow drown.
		They hear us, while they’re harming us,
		Hear us, while they are betraying:
1140		They make out they’re from heaven above, 
		And lisp like angels when they’re lying.
		Let’s go on!  The world has darkened,
		The air is cool: the mists descend!
		Man values his own house at night.
1145		What is it occupies your sight?  
		What troubles you so, in the evening?

		Through corn and stubble, see that black dog running?


		I saw him long ago: he seems a wretched thing.


		Look at him closely!  What do you make of him?


1150		A dog that, in the way they do, 
		Sniffs around to find his master.

		See how he winds in wide spirals too,
		Round us here, yet always coming nearer?
		And if I’m right, I see a swirl of fire
1155		Twisting about, behind his track.  

		Perhaps your eyesight proves a liar,
		I only see a dog, that’s black.

		It seems to me that with a subtle magic,
		He winds a fatal knot around our feet.

1160		I see his timid and uncertain antics, 
		It’s strangers, not his master, whom he meets.

		The circle narrows: now he’s here!


		You see a dog, there’s no spectre near!
		He barks uncertainly, lies down and crawls,
1165		Wags his tail.  Dogs’ habits, after all.  

		Come on!  Here, now!  Here, to me!


		He’s a dogged hound, I agree.
		Stand still and he holds his ground:
		Talk to him, he dances round:
1170		What you’ve lost, he’ll bring to you: 
		Retrieve a stick from the water, too.

		You’re right: and I see nothing
		Like a Spirit there, it’s only training.

		A wise man finds agreeable,
1175		A dog that’s learnt its lesson well.  
		Yes, he deserves all your favour,
		Among the students, the true scholar!
(They enter the City gate.)

Scene III: The Study

(Faust enters, with the dog.)


		Fields and meadows now I’ve left
		Clothed in deepest night,
1180		Full of presentiments, a holy dread 
		Wakes the better soul in me to light.
		Wild desires no longer stir
		At every restless act of mine:
		Love for Humanity is here,
1185		And here is Love Divine.  
		Quiet, dog!  Stop running to and fro!
		Why are you snuffling at the door?
		Lie down now, behind the stove,
		There’s my best cushion on the floor.
1190		Since you amused us running, leaping, 
		Out on the mountainside, with zest,
		Now I take you into my keeping,
		A welcome, and a silent guest.
		Ah, when in our narrow room,
1195		The friendly lamp glows on the shelf, 
		Brightness burns in our inner gloom,
		In the Heart, that knows itself.
		Reason speaks with insistence,
		And Hope once more appears,
1200		We see the River of Existence, 
		Ah, the founts of Life, are near.
		Don’t growl, dog!  With this holy sound
		Which I, with all my soul, embrace,
		Your bestial noise seems out of place.
1205		Men usually scorn the things, I’ve found, 
		That, by them, can’t be understood,
		Grumbling at beauty, and the good,
		That to them seems wearisome:
		Can’t a dog, then, snarl like them?
1210		Oh, yet now I can feel no contentment 
		Flow through me, despite my best intent.
		Why must the stream fail so quickly,
		And once again leave us thirsty?
		I’ve long experience of it, yet I think
1215		I could supply what’s missing, easily: 
		We learn to value what’s beyond the earthly,
		We yearn to reach revelation’s brink,
		That’s nowhere nobler or more excellent
		Than where it burns in the New Testament.
1220		I yearn to render the first version, 
		With true feeling, once and for all,
		Translate the sacred original
		Into my beloved German.
(He opens the volume, and begins.)

		It’s written here: ‘In the Beginning was the Word!’
1225		Here I stick already!  Who can help me?  It’s absurd, 
		Impossible, for me to rate the word so highly
		I must try to say it differently
		If I’m truly inspired by the Spirit.  I find
		I’ve written here: ‘In the Beginning was the Mind’.
1230		Let me consider that first sentence, 
		So my pen won’t run on in advance!
		Is it Mind that works and creates what’s ours?
		It should say: ‘In the beginning was the Power!’
		Yet even while I write the words down,
1235		I’m warned: I’m no closer with these I’ve found.  
		The Spirit helps me!  I have it now, intact.
		And firmly write: ‘In the Beginning was the Act!’
		If I’m to share my room with you,
		Dog, you can stop howling too:
1240		Stop your yapping!  
		A fellow who’s always snapping,
		I can’t allow too near me.
		One of us you see,
		Must leave the other free.
1245		I’ve no more hospitality to show, 
		The door’s open, you can go.
		But what’s this I see!
		Can this happen naturally?
		Is it a phantom or is it real?
1250		The dog’s growing big and tall.  
		He rises powerfully,
		It’s no doglike shape I see!
		What a spectre I brought home!
		Like a hippo in the room,
1255		With fiery eyes, and fearful jaws.  
		Oh! Now, what you are, I’m sure!
		The Key of Solomon is good
		For conjuring your half-hellish brood.
Spirits (In the corridor.)

		Something’s trapped inside!
1260		Don’t follow it: stay outside!  
		Like a fox in a snare
		An old lynx from hell trembles there.
		Be careful what you’re about!
		Float here: float there,
1265		Under and over, 
		And he’ll work his way out.
		If you know how to help him,
		Don’t let yourself fail him!
		Since it’s all done for sure,
1270		Just for your pleasure.  

		First speak the Words of the Four
		To encounter the creature.
		Salamander, be glowing,
		Undine, flow near,
1275		Sylph, disappear, 
		Gnome, be delving.
		Who does not know
		The Elements so,
		Their power sees,
1280		And properties, 
		Cannot lord it
		Over the Spirits.
		Vanish in flame,
1285		Rush together in foam, 
		Shine with meteor-gleam,
		Bring help to the home,
1290		Incubus!  Incubus!  
		Go before and end it thus!
		None of the Four
		Show in the creature.
		He lies there quietly grinning at me:
1295		I’ve not stirred him enough it seems.  
		But you’ll hear how
		I’ll press him hard now.
		My good fellow, are you
		Exiled from Hell’s crew?
1300		Witness the Symbol 
		Before which they bow,
		The dark crowd there!
		Now it swells, with its bristling hair.
		Depraved being!
1305		Can you know what you’re seeing?  
		The uncreated One
		With name unexpressed,
		Poured through Heaven,
		Pierced without redress?
1310		Spellbound, behind the stove, 
		An elephant grows.
		It fills the room, completely,
		It will vanish like mist, I can see.
		Don’t rise to the ceiling!
1315		Lie down at your master’s feet!  
		You see I don’t threaten you lightly.
		I’ll sting you with fire that’s holy!
		Don’t wait for the bright
		Triple glowing Light!
1320		Don’t wait for 
		My highest art!
(As the mist clears, Mephistopheles steps from behind the stove,
dressed as a wandering Scholar.)


		Why such alarms?  What command would my lord impart?


		This was the dog’s core!
		A wandering scholar?  The fact makes me smile.

1325		I bow to the learned lord!  
		You certainly made me sweat, in style.

		How are you named?


		A slight question
		For one who so disdains the Word,
		Is so distant from appearance: one
1330		Whom only the vital depths have stirred.  

		We usually gather from your names
		The nature of you gentlemen: it’s plain
		What you are, we all too clearly recognise
		One who’s called Liar, Ruin, Lord of the Flies.
1335		Well, what are you then?  

		Part of the Power that would
		Always wish Evil, and always works the Good.

		What meaning to these riddling words applies?


		I am the spirit, ever, that denies!
		And rightly so: since everything created,
1340		In turn deserves to be annihilated: 
		Better if nothing came to be.
		So all that you call Sin, you see,
		Destruction, in short, what you’ve meant
		By Evil is my true element.

		You call yourself a part, yet seem complete to me?


		I’m speaking the truth to you, and modestly.
		Even if Man’s accustomed to take
		His small world for the Whole, that’s his mistake:
		I’m part of the part, that once was - everything,
1350		Part of the darkness, from which Light, issuing, 
		Proud Light, emergent, disputed the highest place
		With its mother Night, the bounds of Space,
		And yet won nothing, however hard it tried,
		Still stuck to Bodily Things, and so denied.
1355		It flows from bodies, which it beautifies, 
		And bodies block its way:
		I hope the day’s not far away
		When it, along with all these bodies, dies.

		Now I see the plan you follow!
1360		You can’t destroy it all, and so 
		You’re working on a smaller scale.

		And frankly it’s a sorry tale.
		What’s set against the Nothingness,
		The Something, World’s clumsiness,
1365		Despite everything I’ve tried, 
		Won’t become a nothing: though I’d
		Storms, quakes, and fires on every hand,
		It deigned to stay as sea and land!
		And those Men and creatures, all the damned,
1370		It’s no use my owning any of that crew: 
		How many I’ve already done with too!
		Yet new fresh blood is always going round.
		So it goes on, men make me furious!
		With water, earth and air, of course,
1375		A thousand buds unfurl 
		In wet and dry, warm and cold!
		And if I hadn’t kept back fire of old,
		I’d have nothing left at all.

		So you set the Devil’s fist
1380		That vainly clenches itself, 
		Against the eternally active,
		Wholesome, creative force!
		Strange son of Chaos, start
		On something else instead!

1385		Truly I’ll think about it: more 
		Next time, on that head!
		Might I be allowed to go?

		I see no reason for you to ask it.
		Since I’ve learnt to know you now,
1390		When you wish: then make a visit.  
		There’s the door, here’s the window,
		And, of course, there’s the chimney.

		I must confess, I’m prevented though
		By a little thing that hinders me,
1395		The Druid’s-foot on your doorsill – 

		The Pentagram gives you pain?
		Then tell me, you Son of Hell,
		If that’s the case, how did you gain
		Entry?  Are spirits like you cheated?

1400		Look carefully!  It’s not completed: 
		One angle, if you inspect it closely
		Has, as you see, been left a little open.

		Just by chance as it happens!
		And left you prisoner to me?
1405		Success created by approximation!  

		The dog saw nothing, in his animation,
		Now the affair seems inside out,
		The Devil can’t get out of the house.

		Why not try the window then?


1410		To devils and ghosts the same laws appertain: 
		The same way they enter in, they must go out.
		In the first we’re free, in the second slaves to the act.

		So you still have laws in Hell, in fact?
		That’s good, since it allows a pact,
1415		And one with you gentlemen truly binds?  

		What’s promised you’ll enjoy, and find,
		There’s nothing mean that we enact.
		But it can’t be done so fast,
		First we’ll have to talk it through,
1420		Yet, urgently, I beg of you 
		Let me go my way at last.

		Wait a moment now,
		Tell me some good news first.

		I’ll soon be back, just let me go:
1425		Then you can ask me what you wish.  

		I didn’t place you here, tonight.
		You trapped yourself in the lime.
		Who snares the devil, holds him tight!
		He won’t be caught like that a second time.

1430		I’m willing, if you so wish, 
		To stay here, in your company:
		So long as we pass the time, and I insist,
		On arts of mine, exclusively.

		Gladly, you’re free to present
1435		Them, as long as they’re all pleasant.  

		My friend you’ll win more
		For your senses, in an hour,
		Than in a whole year’s monotony.
		What the tender spirits sing,
1440		The lovely pictures that they bring, 
		Are no empty wizardry.
		First your sense of smell’s invited,
		Then your palate is delighted,
		And then your touch, you see.
1445		Now, I need no preparation, 
		We’re all here, so let’s begin!

		Vanish, you shadowy
		Vaults above!
		Cheerfully show,
1450		The friendliest blue 
		Of aether, down here.
		Would that shadowy
		Clouds had gone!
		Starlight sparkling
1455		Milder sun 
		Shining clear.
		Heavenly children
		In lovely confusion,
		Swaying and bending,
1460		Drifting past.  
		Affectionate yearning,
		Following fast:
		Their garments flowing
		With fluttering ribbons,
1465		Cover the gardens, 
		Cover the leaves,
		Where with each other
		In deep conversation
		Lover meets lover.
1470		Leaves on leaves!  
		Tendrils’ elation!
		Grapes beneath
		Crushed in a stream,
		Pressed to extreme,
1475		Crushed to fountain, 
		Of foaming wine,
		Trickling, fine,
		Through rocks divine,
		Leaving the heights,
1480		Spreading beneath, 
		Broad as the seas,
		Valleys it fills
		Round the green hills.
		And the wings still,
1485		Blissfully drunk, 
		Fly to the sun,
		Fly to the brightness,
		Towards the islands,
		Out of the waves
1490		Magically raised: 
		Now we can hear
		The choir of joy near,
		Over the meadow,
		See how they dance now,
1495		All in the air 
		Dispersing there.
		Some of them climbing
		Over the mountains,
		Others are swimming
1500		Over the ocean, 
		Others take flight:
		All towards Life,
		All towards distant,
		Love of the stars, and
1505		Approval’s bliss.  

		He’s asleep!  Enough, you delicate children of air!
		You’ve sung to him faithfully, I declare!
		I’m in your debt for all this.
		He’s not yet the man to hold devils fast!
1510		Spellbind him with dream-forms, cast 
		Him deep into illusions’ sea:
		Now, for the magic sill I must pass,
		I could use rat’s teeth: no need for me
		To conjure up a lengthier spell,
1515		One’s rustling here that will do well.  
		The Lord of Rats and Mice,
		Of Flies, Frogs, Bugs and Lice,
		Summons you to venture here,
		And gnaw the threshold where
1520		He stains it with a little oil - 
		You’ve hopped, already, to your toil!
		Now set to work!  The fatal point,
		Is at the edge, it’s on the front.
		One more bite, then it’s complete –
1525		Now Faust, dream deeply, till we meet.  
Faust (Waking.)

		Am I cheated then, once again?
		Does the Spirit-Realm’s deep yearning fade:
		So a mere dream has conjured up the devil,
		And only a dog, it was, that ran away?
Scene IV: The Study

(Faust, Mephistopheles)


1530		A knock?  Enter!  Who’s plaguing me again?  


		I am




		Three times you must say it, then.


		So! Enter!


		Ah, now, you please me.
		I hope we’ll get along together:
		To drive away the gloomy weather,
1535		I’m dressed like young nobility, 
		In a scarlet gold-trimmed coat,
		In a little silk-lined cloak,
		A cockerel feather in my hat,
		With a long, pointed sword,
1540		And I advise you, at that, 
		To do as I do, in a word:
		So that, footloose, fancy free,
		You can experience Life, with me.

		This life of earth, its narrowness,
1545		Pains me, however I’m turned out, 
		I’m too old to play about,
		Too young, still, to be passionless.
		What can the world bring me again?
		Abstain!  You shall!  You must!  Abstain!
1550		That’s the eternal song 
		That in our ears, forever, rings
		The one, that, our whole life long,
		Every hour, hoarsely, sings.
		I wake in terror with the dawn,
1555		I cry, the bitterest tears, to see 
		Day grant no wish of mine, not one
		As it passes by on its journey.
		Even presentiments of joy
		Ebb, in wilful depreciation:
1560		A thousand grimaces life employs 
		To hinder me in creation.
		Then when night descends I must
		Stretch out, worried, on my bed:
		What comes to me is never rest,
1565		But some wild dream instead.  
		The God that lives inside my heart,
		Can rouse my innermost seeing:
		The one enthroned beyond my art,
		Can’t stir external being:
1570		And so existence is a burden: sated, 
		Death’s desired, and Life is hated.

		Yet Death’s a guest who’s visit’s never wholly celebrated.


		Happy the man whom victory enhances,
		Whose brow the bloodstained laurel warms,
1575		Who, after the swift whirling dances, 
		Finds himself in some girl’s arms!
		If only, in my joy, then, I’d sunk down
		Before that enrapturing Spirit power!

		Yet someone, from a certain brown
1580		Liquid, drank not a drop, at midnight hour.  

		It seems that you delight in spying.


		I know a lot: and yet I’m not all-knowing.


		When sweet familiar tones drew me,
		Away from the tormenting crowd,
1585		Then my other childhood feelings 
		Better times echoed, and allowed.
		So I curse whatever snares the soul,
		In its magical, enticing arms,
		Banishes it to this mournful hole,
1590		With dazzling, seductive charms!  
		Cursed be those high Opinions first,
		With which the mind entraps itself!
		Then glittering Appearance curse,
		In which the senses lose themselves!
1595		Curse what deceives us in our dreaming, 
		With thoughts of everlasting fame!
		Curse the flattery of ‘possessing’
		Wife and child, lands and name!
		Curse Mammon, when he drives us
1600		To bold acts to win our treasure: 
		Or straightens out our pillows
		For us to idle at our leisure!
		Curse the sweet juice of the grape!
		Curse the highest favours Love lets fall!
1605		Cursed be Hope!  Cursed be Faith, 
		And cursed be Patience most of all!
Choir of Spirits (Unseen)

		Sorrow!  Sorrow!
		You’ve destroyed it,
		The beautiful world,
1610		With a powerful fist: 
		It tumbles, it’s hurled
		To ruin!  A demigod crushed it!
		We carry
		Fragments into the void,
1615		And sadly 
		Lament the Beauty that’s gone.
		For all of Earth’s sons,
1620		Build it again, 
		Build, in your heart!
		Life’s new start,
		Begin again,
		With senses washed clean,
1625		And sound, then, 
		A newer art!

		They’re little, but fine,
		These attendants of mine.
		Precocious advice they give, listen,
1630		Regarding both action, and passion!  
		Into the World outside,
		From Solitude, that’s dried
		Your sap and senses,
		They tempt us.
1635		Stop playing with grief, 
		That feeds, a vulture, on your breast,
		The worst society, you’ll find, will prompt belief,
		That you’re a Man among the rest.
		Not that I mean
1640		To shove you into the mass.  
		Among ‘the greats’, I’m second-class:
		But if you, in my company,
		Your path through life would wend,
		I’ll willingly condescend
1645		To serve you, as we go.  
		I’m your man, and so,
		If it suits you of course,
		I’m your slave: I’m yours!

		And what must I do in exchange?


1650		There’s lots of time: you’ve got the gist.  


		No, no!  The Devil is an egotist,
		Does nothing lightly, or in God’s name,
		To help another, so I insist,
		Speak your demands out loud,
1655		Such servants are risks, in a house.  

		I’ll be your servant here, and I’ll
		Not stop or rest, at your decree:
		When we’re together, on the other side,
		You’ll do the same for me.

1660		The ‘other side’ concerns me less: 
		Shatter this world, in pieces,
		The other one can take its place,
		The root of my joy’s on this Earth,
		And this Sun lights my sorrow:
1665		If I must part from them tomorrow, 
		What can or will be, that I’ll face.
		I’ll hear no more of it, of whether
		In that future, men both hate and love,
		Or whether in those spheres, forever,
1670		We’re given a below and an above.  

		In that case, you can venture all.
		Commit yourself: today, you shall
		View my arts with joy: I mean
		To show you what no man has seen.

1675		Poor devil what can you give?  When has ever 
		A human spirit, in its highest endeavour,
		Been understood by such a one as you?
		You have a never-satiating food,
		You have your restless gold, a slew
1680		Of quicksilver, melting in the hand, 
		Games whose prize no man can land,
		A girl, who while she’s on my arm,
		Snares a neighbour, with her eyes:
		And Honour’s fine and godlike charm,
1685		That, like a meteor, dies?  
		Show me fruits then that rot, before they’re ready.
		And trees grown green again, each day, too!

		Such commands don’t frighten me:
		With such treasures I can truly serve you.
1690		Still, my good friend, a time may come, 
		When one prefers to eat what’s good in peace.

		When I lie quiet in bed, at ease.
		Then let my time be done!
		If you fool me, with flatteries,
1695		Till my own self’s a joy to me, 
		If you snare me with luxury –
		Let that be the last day I see!
		That bet I’ll make!
		And quickly!
		When, to the Moment then, I say:
1700		‘Ah, stay a while!  You are so lovely!’ 
		Then you can grasp me: then you may,
		Then, to my ruin, I’ll go gladly!
		Then they can ring the passing bell,
		Then from your service you are free,
1705		The clocks may halt, the hands be still, 
		And time be past and done, for me!

		Consider well, we’ll not forget.


		You have your rights, complete:
		I never over-estimate my powers.
1710		I’ll be a slave, in defeat: 
		Why ask whose slave or yours?

		Today, likewise, at the Doctors’ Feast
		I’ll do my duty as your servant.
		One thing, though!  – Re: life and death, I want
1715		A few lines from you, at the least.  

		You pedant, you demand it now in writing?
		You still won’t take Man’s word for anything?
		It’s not enough that the things I say,
		Will always accord with my future?
1720		The world never ceases to wear away, 
		And shall a promise bind me, then, forever?
		Yet that’s the illusion in our minds,
		And who then would be free of it?
		Happy the man, who pure truth finds,
1725		And who’ll never deign to sacrifice it!  
		Still a document, written and signed,
		That’s a ghost makes all men fear it.
		The word is already dying in the pen,
		And wax and leather hold the power then.
1730		What do you want from me base spirit?  
		Will iron: marble: parchment: paper do it?
		Shall I write with stylus, pen or chisel?
		I’ll leave the whole decision up to you.

		Why launch into oratory too?
1735		Hot-tempered: you exaggerate as well.  
		Any bit of paper’s just as good.
		And you can sign it with a drop of blood.

		If it will satisfy you, and it should,
		Then let’s complete the farce in full.

1740		Blood is a quite special fluid.  


		Have no fear I’ll break this pact!
		The extreme I can promise you: it is
		All the power my efforts can extract.
		I’ve puffed myself up so highly
1745		I belong in your ranks now.  
		The mighty Spirit scorns me
		And Nature shuts me out.
		The thread of thought has turned to dust,
		Knowledge fills me with disgust.
1750		Let the depths of sensuality 
		Satisfy my burning passion!
		And, its impenetrable mask on,
		Let every marvel be prepared for me!
		Let’s plunge into time’s torrent,
1755		Into the whirlpools of event!  
		Then let joy, and distress,
		Frustration, and success,
		Follow each other, as well they can:
		Restless activity proves the man!

1760		No goal or measure’s set for you.  
		Do as you wish, nibble at everything,
		Catch at fragments while you’re flying,
		Enjoy it all, whatever you find to do.
		Now grab at it, and don’t be stupid!

1765		It’s not joy we’re about: you heard it.  
		I’ll take the frenzy, pain-filled elation,
		Loving hatred, enlivening frustration.
		Cured of its urge to know, my mind
		In future, will not hide from any pain,
1770		And what is shared by all mankind, 
		In my innermost self, I’ll contain:
		My soul will grasp the high and low,
		My heart accumulate its bliss and woe,
		So this self will embrace all theirs,
1775		That, in the end, their fate it shares.  

		Believe me, many a thousand year
		They’ve chewed hard food, and yet
		From the cradle to the bier,
		Not one has ever digested it!
1780		Trust one of us, this Whole thing 
		Was only made for a god’s delight!
		In eternal splendour he is dwelling,
		He placed us in the darkness quite,
		And only gave you day and night.

1785		But, I will!  


		That’s good to hear!
		Yet I’ve a fear, just the one:
		Time is short, and art is long.
		I think you need instruction.
		Join forces with a poet: use poetry,
1790		Let him roam in imagination, 
		You’ll gain every noble quality
		From your honorary occupation,
		The lion’s brave attitude
		The wild stag’s swiftness,
1795		The Italian’s fiery blood, 
		The North’s persistence.
		Let him find the mysterious
		Meeting of generous and devious,
		While you, with passions young and hot,
1800		Fall in love, according to the plot.  
		I’d like to see such a gentleman, among us,
		And I’d call him Mister Microcosmus.

		What am I then, if it’s a flight too far,
		For me to gain that human crown
1805		I yearn towards with every sense I own?  

		In the end, you are – what you are.
		Set your hair in a thousand curlicues
		Place your feet in yard-high shoes,
		You’ll remain forever, what you are.

1810		All the treasures of the human spirit 
		I feel that I’ve expended, uselessly.
		And wherever, at the last, I sit,
		No new power flows, in me.
		I’m not a hair’s breadth taller, as you see,
1815		And I’m no nearer to Infinity.  

		My dear sir, you see the thing
		Exactly as all men see it: why,
		We must re-order everything,
		Before the joys of life slip by.
1820		Hang it!  Hands and feet, belong to you, 
		Certainly, a head, and a backside,
		Yet everything I use as new
		Why is my ownership of it denied?
		When I can count on six stallions,
1825		Isn’t their horsepower mine to use?  
		I drive behind, and am a proper man,
		As though I’d twenty-four legs, too.
		Look lively!  Leave the senses be,
		And plunge into the world with me!
1830		I say to you that scholarly fellows 
		Are like the cattle on an arid heath:
		Some evil spirit leads them round in circles,
		While sweet green meadows lie beneath.

		How shall we begin then?


		From here, we’ll first win free.
1835		What kind of a martyrs’ hole can this be?  
		What kind of a teacher of life is he,
		Who fills young minds with ennui?
		Let your neighbours do it, and go!
		Do you want to thresh straw forever?
1840		The best things you can ever know, 
		You dare not tell the youngsters, ever.
		I hear one of them arriving, too!

		I’ve no desire to see him, though.


		The poor lad’s waited hours for you.
1845		He mustn’t go away un-consoled.  
		Come: give me your cap and gown.
		The mask should look delicious.  So!
(He disguises himself.)

		Now I’ve lost what wit’s my own!
		I want fifteen minutes with him, only:
1850		Meanwhile get ready for our journey!  
(Faust exits.)

Mephistopheles (In Faust’s long gown.)

		Reason and Science you despise,
		Man’s highest powers: now the lies
		Of the deceiving spirit must bind you
		With those magic arts that blind you,
1855		And I’ll have you, totally – 
		Fate gave him such a spirit
		It urges him ever onwards, wildly,
		And, in his hasty striving, he has leapt
		Beyond all earth’s ecstasies.
1860		I’ll drag him through raw life, 
		Through the meaningless and shallow,
		I’ll freeze him: stick to him: keep him ripe,
		Frustrate his insatiable greed, allow
		Food and drink to drift before his eyes:
1865		In vain he’ll beg for consummation, 
		And if he weren’t the devil’s, why
		He’d still go to his ruination!
(A student enters.)


		I’m only here momentarily,
		I’ve come, filled with humility,
1870		To speak to, and to stand before , 
		One who’s spoken of with awe.

		Your courtesy delights me greatly!
		A man like other men you see.
		Have you studied then, elsewhere?

1875		I beg you, please enrol me, here!  
		I come to you strong of courage,
		Lined in pocket, healthy for my age:
		My mother didn’t want to lose me: though,
		I’d like to learn what it’s right for me to know.

1880		Then you’ve come to the right place, exactly.  


		To be honest, I’d like to go already:
		There’s little pleasure for me at all,
		In these walls, and all these halls.
		It’s such a narrow space I find,
1885		You see no trees, no leaves of any kind, 
		And in the lectures, on the benches,
		All thought deserts me, and my senses.

		It will only come to you with habit.
		So the child takes its mother’s breast
1890		Quite unwillingly at first, and yet it 
		Soon sucks away at her with zest.
		So will you at Wisdom’s breast, here,
		Feel every day a little zestier.

		I’ll cling to her neck with pleasure:
1895		But only tell me how to find her.  

		Explain, before you travel on
		What faculty you’ve settled on.

		I want to be a true scholar,
		I want to grasp, by the collar,
1900		What’s on earth, in heaven above, 
		In Science, and in Nature too.

		Then here’s the very path for you,
		But don’t allow yourself to wander off.

		I’ll be present heart and soul:
1905		Of course I’ll want to play, 
		Have some fun and freedom, though,
		On each sweet summer holiday.

		Use your time well: it slips away so fast, yet
		Discipline will teach you how to win it.
1910		My dear friend, I’d advise, in sum, 
		First, the Collegium Logicum.
		There your mind will be trained,
		As if in Spanish boots, constrained,
		So that painfully, as it ought,
1915		It creeps along the way of thought, 
		Not flitting about all over,
		Wandering here and there.
		So you’ll learn, in many days,
		What you used to do, untaught, as in a haze,
1920		Like eating now, and drinking, you’ll see 
		The necessity of One!  Two!  Three!
		Truly the intricacy of logic
		Is like a master-weaver’s fabric,
		Where the loom holds a thousand threads,
1925		Here and there the shuttles go 
		And the threads, invisibly, flow,
		One pass serves for a thousand instead.
		Then the philosopher steps in: he’ll show
		That it certainly had to be so:
1930		The first was - so, the second - so, 
		And so, the third and fourth were - so:
		If first and second had never been,
		Third and fourth would not be seen.
		All praise the scholars, beyond believing,
1935		But few of them ever turn to weaving.  
		To know and note the living, you’ll find it
		Best to first dispense with the spirit:
		Then with the pieces in your hand,
		Ah! You’ve only lost the spiritual bond.
1940		‘Natural treatment’, Chemistry calls it 
		Mocks at herself, and doesn’t know it.

		I’m not sure that I quite understand.


		You’ll soon know it all, as planned,
		When you’ve learnt the science of reduction,
1945		And everything’s proper classification.  

		After all that, I feel as stupid
		As if I’d a mill wheel in my head.

		Next, before all else, you’ll fix
		Your mind on Metaphysics!
1950		See that you’re profoundly trained 
		In what never stirs in a human brain:
		You’ll learn a splendid word
		For what’s occurred or not occurred.
		But for the present take six months
1955		To get yourself in order: start at once.  
		Five hours every day, lock
		Yourself in, with a ticking clock!
		Make sure you’re well prepared,
		Study each paragraph with care,
1960		So afterwards you’ll be certain 
		Only what’s in the book, was written:
		Then be as diligent when you pen it,
		As if the Holy Ghost had said it!

		You won’t need to tell me twice!
1965		I think, myself, it’s very helpful, too 
		That one can take back home, and use,
		What someone’s penned in black and white.

		But choose a faculty, any one!


		I wouldn’t be comfortable with Law.


1970		I couldn’t name you anything more 
		Vile, I know how dogmatic it’s become.
		Laws and rights are handed down
		It’s an eternal disgrace:
		They’re moved round from town to town
1975		Dragged around from place to place.  
		Reason is nonsense, kindness a disease,
		If you’re a grandchild it’s a curse!
		The rights we are born with,
		To those, alas, no one refers!

1980		That just strengthens my disgust.  
		Happy the student that you instruct!
		I’ve nearly settled on Theology.

		I wouldn’t wish to guide you erroneously.
		In what that branch of knowledge concerns
1985		It’s so difficult to avoid a fallacious route, 
		There’s so much poison hidden in what you learn,
		And it’s barely distinguishable from the antidote.
		The best thing here’s to make a single choice,
		Then simply swear by your master’s voice.
1990		On the whole, to words stick fast!  
		Through the safest gate you’ll pass
		To the Temple of Certainty.

		Yet surely words must have a sense.


		Why, yes!  But don’t torment yourself with worry,
1995		Where sense fails it’s only necessary 
		To supply a word, and change the tense.
		With words fine arguments can be weighted,
		With words whole Systems can be created,
		With words, the mind does its conceiving,
2000		No word suffers a jot from thieving.  

		Forgive me, I delay you with my questions,
		But I must trouble you again,
		On the subject of Medicine,
		Have you no helpful word to say?
2005		Three years, so little time applied, 
		And, God, the field is rather wide!
		If only you had some kind of pointer,
		You would feel so much further on.
Mephistopheles (Aside.)

		I’m tired of this desiccated banter
2010		I really must play the devil, at once.  

		To grasp the spirit of Medicine’s easily done:
		You study the great and little world, until,
		In the end you let it carry on
		Just as God wills.
2015		Useless to roam round, scientifically: 
		Everyone learns only what he can:
		The one who grasps the Moment fully,
		He’s the proper man.
		You’re quite a well-made fellow,
2020		You’re not short of courage too, 
		And when you’re easy with yourself,
		Others will be easy with you.
		Study, especially, female behaviour:
		Their eternal aches and woes,
2025		All of the thousand-fold, 
		Rise from one point, and have one cure.
		And if you’re half honourable about it
		You shall have them in your pocket.
		A title first: to give them comfort you
2030		Have skills that far exceed the others, 
		Then you’re free to touch the goods, and view
		What someone else has prowled around for years.
		Take the pulse firmly, you understand,
		And then, with sidelong fiery glance,
2035		Grasp the slender hips, in haste, 
		To find out whether she’s tight-laced.

		That sounds much better!  The Where and How, I see.


		Grey, dear friend, is all theory,
		And green the golden tree of life.

2040		I swear it’s like a dream to me: may I 
		Trouble you, at some further time,
		To expound your wisdom, so sublime?

		As much as I can, I’ll gladly explain.


		I can’t tear myself away,
2045		I must just pass you my album, sir, 
		Grant me the favour of your signature!

		Very well.

(He writes and gives the book back.)

		Student (Reading Mephistopheles’ Latin inscription which means:
		‘You’ll be like God, acquainted with good and evil’.)
		Eritis sicut Deus, scientes bonum et malum.

(He makes his bows, and takes his leave.)


		Just follow the ancient text, and my mother the snake, too:
2050		And then your likeness to God will surely frighten you!  
(Faust enters.)


		Where will we go, then?


		Where you please.
		The little world, and then the great, we’ll see.
		With what profit and delight,
		This term, you’ll be a parasite!

2055		Yet with my long beard, I’ll 
		Lack life’s superficial style.
		My attempt will come to nothing:
		I know, in this world, I don’t fit in.
		I feel so small next to other men,
2060		It only means embarrassment.  

		My friend, just give yourself completely to it:
		When you find yourself, you’ll soon know how to live it.

		How shall we depart from here, then?
		I see not one servant, coach, or horse.

2065		We’ll just spread this cloak wide open, 
		Then through the air we’ll take our course.
		For a daring trip like this we’re on,
		Better not take much baggage along.
		A little hot air I’ll ready, first,
2070		To lift us nimbly above the Earth, 
		And as we’re light we’ll soon get clear:
		Congratulations on your new career!
Scene V: Auerbach’s Cellar in Leipzig

(Friends happily drinking.)


		Will none of you laugh?  Nobody drink?
		I’ll have to teach you to smile, I think!
2075		You’re all of you like wet straw today, 
		And usually you’re well away.

		That’s up to you, you bring us nothing.
		Nothing dumb, or dirty, nothing.
Frosch (Pouring a glass of wine over Brander’s head.)

		You can have both!

		Rotten swine!

2080		You wanted them both, so you got mine!  


		Out the door, whoever fights!  Get out!
		Let’s sing a heart-felt chorus, drink and shout!
		Up! Hurray!  Ha!

		Ah! I’m in agony!
		Earplugs, here!  This fellow’s deafened me.

2085		It’s only when it echoes in the tower, 
		You hear a bass voice’s real power.

		Right, out with him who takes offence!
		Ah! Do, re, me!

		Ah! Do, re, me!


		Our throats are tuned: commence.

(He sings.)

2090		‘Dear Holy Roman Empire, 
		How do you hold together?’

		A lousy song!  Bah!  A political song -
		A tiresome song!  Thank God, every morning,
		It isn’t you who must sit there worrying
2095		About the Empire!  At least I’m better for 
		Not being a King or a Chancellor.
		But we should have a leader, so
		We’ll choose a Pope of our own.
		You know the qualities that can
2100		Swing the vote, and elevate the man.  
Frosch (Sings.)

		‘Sing away, sweet Nightingale,
		Greet my girl, and never fail.’

		Don’t greet my girl!  I’ll not allow it!


		Greet and kiss her!  You’ll not stop it!

(He sings.)

2105		‘Slip the bolt in deepest night!  
		Slip it!  Wake, the lover bright.
		Slip it to!  At break of dawn.’

		Yes, sing in praise of her, and boast: sing on!
		I’ll laugh later when it suits:
2110		She leads me a dance, she’ll lead you too.  
		She should have a dwarf for a lover!
		At the crossroads, let him woo her:
		An old goat from Blocksberg, galloping over,
		Can bleat goodnight, as it passes by her.
2115		An honest man, of flesh and blood, 
		For a girl like that’s far too good.
		I’m not bothered even to say hello
		Except perhaps to break her window.
Brander (Pounding on the table.)

		Quiet!  Quiet!  Or you won’t hear!
2120		I know about life, you lot, confess.  
		Besotted persons sit among us,
		As fits their status, then, I must
		Give them, tonight, of my very best.
		Listen!  A song in the newest strain!
2125		And you can shout out the refrain!  
(He sings.)

		‘Once there was a cellar rat,
		Who lived on grease, and butter:
		He had a belly, round and fat,
		Just like Doctor Luther.
2130		The cook set poison round about: 
		It brought on such a violent bout,
		As if he’d love inside him.’
Chorus (Shouting.)

		‘As if he’d love inside him!’


		‘He ran here, and he ran there,
2135		And drank from all the puddles, 
		Gnawing, scratching, everywhere,
		But nothing cured his shudders.
		In torment, he leapt to the roof,
		Poor beast, soon he’d had enough,
2140		As if he’d love inside him.’ 

		‘As if he’d love inside him!’


		‘Fear drove him to the light of day,
		Into the kitchen then he ran,
		Fell on the hearth and twitched away,
2145		Pitifully weak, and wan.  
		Then the murderess laughed with glee:
		He’s on his last legs, I see,
		As if he’d love inside him.’

		‘As if he’d love inside him.’


2150		How pleased they are, the tiresome fools!  
		Spreading poison for wretched rats,
		To me, that’s the right thing to do!

		You’re in sympathy with them, perhaps?


		That fat belly with a balding head!
2155		Bad luck makes him meek and mild: 
		From a swollen rat, he sees, with dread,
		His own natural likeness is compiled.
(Faust and Mephistopheles appear.)

		First of all, I had to bring you here,
		Where cheerful friends sup together,
2160		To see how happily life slips away.  
		For these folk every day’s a holiday.
		With lots of leisure, and little sense,
		They revolve in their round-dance,
		Chasing their tails as kittens prance,
2165		If the hangovers aren’t too intense, 
		If the landlord gives them credit,
		They’re cheerful, and unworried by it.

		They’re fresh from their travelling days,
		You can tell by their foreign ways:
2170		They’ve not been back an hour: you see.  

		True, you’re right!  My Leipzig’s dear to me!
		It’s a little Paris, and educates its people.

		Who do you think the strangers are?


		Let me find out!  I’ll draw the truth,
2175		From those two, with a brimming glass, 
		As easily as you’d pull a child’s tooth.
		It seems to me they’re of some noble house,
		They look so discontented and so proud.

		They’re surely strolling players, I’d guess!




2180		Watch me screw it out of them, then!  

Mephistopheles (To Faust.)

		These folk wouldn’t feel the devil, even
		If he’d got them dangling by the neck.

		Greetings, sirs!


		Thank you, and greetings.

(He mutters away, inspecting Mephistopheles side-on.)

		What’s wrong with his foot: why’s he limping?


2185		Allow us to sit with you, if you please.  
		Instead of fine ale that can’t be had,
		We can still have good company.

		You seem a choosy sort of lad.


		Was it late when you started out from Rippach?
2190		Perhaps you dined with Hans there, first?  

		We passed straight by, today, without a rest!
		We spoke to him last some time back,
		When he talked a lot about his cousins,
		And he sent to each his kind greetings.
(He bows to Frosch.)

Altmayer (Aside.)

		He did you, there!  He’s smart!


2195		A shrewd customer!  


		Wait, I’ll have him soon, I’m sure!


		If I’m not wrong, we heard
		A tuneful choir singing?
		I’m sure, with this vault, the words
2200		Must really set it ringing!  

		Are you by any chance a virtuoso?


		No! Though my desire is great, my skill is only so-so.


		Give us a song!


		If you wish it, a few.


		So long as it’s a brand-new one!


2205		Well, it’s from Spain that we’ve just come, 
		The lovely land of wine, and singing too.
(He sings.)

		‘There was once a king, who
		Had a giant flea’ –

		Listen!  Did you get that?  A flea.
2210		A flea’s an honest guest to me.  
Mephistopheles (Sings.)

		‘There was once a king, who
		Had a giant flea,
		He loved him very much, oh,
		He was like a son, you see.
2215		The king called for his tailor, 
		He came right away:
		Now, measure up the lad for
		A suit of clothes, I say!’

		Make sure the tailor’s sharp,
2220		And cuts them out precisely, 
		And, since his son’s dear to his heart,
		Make sure there’s never a crease to see.

		‘All in silk and velvet,
		He was smartly dressed,
2225		With ribbons on his coat, 
		A cross upon his chest.
		He was the First Minister,
		And so he wore a star:
		His brothers and his sisters,
2230		He made noblest by far.  
		The lords and the ladies,
		They were badly smitten,
		The Queen and her maids,
		They were stung and bitten.
2235		They didn’t dare to crush them, 
		Or scratch away, all night.
		We smother them, and crush them,
		The moment that they bite.’
Chorus (Shouted.)

		‘We smother them, and crush them,
2240		The moment that they bite.’ 

		Bravo!  Bravo!  That went sweetly!


		So shall it be with every flea!


		Sharpen your nails, and crush them fine!


		Long live freedom, and long live wine!


2245		I’d love to drink a glass, in freedom’s honour, 
		If only the wine were a little better.

		Not again, we don’t want to hear!


		I fear the landlord might complain
		Or I’d give these worthy guests,
2250		One of my cellar’s very best.  

		Just bring it on!  He’ll accept it: I’ll explain.


		Make it a good glass and we’ll praise it.
		But don’t make it so small we can’t taste it.
		Because if I’m truly going to decide,
2255		I need a really big mouthful inside.  
Altmayer (Aside.)

		They’re from the Rhine, as I guessed.


		Bring me a corkscrew!


		What for?
		Is it outside already, this cask?

		There’s one in the landlord’s toolbox, for sure.

Mephistopheles (Takes the corkscrew.  To Frosch.)

2260		Now, what would you like to try?  


		What?  Is there a selection, too?


		There’s a choice for every one of you.

Altmayer (To Frosch.)

		Ah! You soon catch on: your lips are dry?


		Good!  When I’ve a choice, I drink Rhenish.
2265		The Fatherland grants those best gifts to us.  
		Mephistopheles (Boring a hole in the table-edge where Frosch is
		Bring me a little wax, to make the seals, as well!


		Ah, that’s for the conjuring trick, I can tell.

Mephistopheles (To Brander.)

		And yours?


		Champagne for me is fine:
		Make it a truly sparkling wine!
(Mephistopheles bores the holes: one of the others makes the wax
stoppers and stops the holes with them.)

2270		We can’t always shun what’s foreign, 
		Things from far away are often fine.
		Real Germans can’t abide a Frenchman,
		And yet they gladly drink his wine.
Siebel (As Mephistopheles approaches his seat.)

		I must confess I do dislike the dry,
2275		Give me a glass of the very sweetest!  
Mephistopheles (Boring a hole.)

		I’ll pour an instant Tokay for you, yes?


		Now, gentlemen, look me in the eye!
		I see you’ve had the better of us there.

		Now!  Now!  With guests so rare,
2280		That would be far too much for me to dare.  
		Quick!  Time for you to declare!
		Which wine can I serve you with?

		Any at all!  Don’t make us ask forever.

(Now all the holes have been stopped and sealed.)

Mephistopheles (With a strange gesture.)

		Grapes, they are the vine’s load!
2285		Horns, they are the he-goat’s: 
		Wine is juice: wood makes vines,
		The wooden board shall give us wine.
		Look deeper into Nature!
		Have faith, and here’s a wonder!
2290		Now draw the stoppers, and drink up!  
		All (Draw the stoppers, and the wine they chose flows into each
		O lovely fount, that flows for us!


		But careful, don’t lose a drop!

(They drink repeatedly.)

All (Singing.)

		‘We’re all of us cannibals now,
		We’re like five hundred sows.’

2295		The folk are free, and we can go, you see!  


		I’d like to leave here now.


		Watch first: their bestiality
		Will make a splendid show.

(He drinks carelessly, wine pours on the ground and bursts into

		Help!  Fire!  Hell burns bright!

Mephistopheles (Charming away the flame.)

2300		Friendly element, be quiet!  

(To the drinkers.)

		For this time, just a drop of Purgatory.


		What’s that?  You wait!  You’ll pay dearly!
		It seems you don’t quite see us right.

		Try playing that trick a second time, on us!


2305		I think we should quietly send him packing.  


		What, sir?  You think you’re daring,
		Tricking us with your hocus-pocus?

		Be quiet, old wine-barrel!


		You broomstick!  You’ll show us you’re ill bred?


2310		Just wait, it’ll rain blows, on your head!  

Altmayer (Draws a stopper and fire blazes in his face.)

		I’m burning!  Burning!


		It’s magic, strike!
		The man’s a rascal!  Kick him as you like!
(They draw knives and rush at Mephistopheles.)

Mephistopheles (With solemn gestures.)

		Word and Image, ensnare!
		Alter, senses and air!
2315		Be here, and there!  
(They look at each other, amazed.)


		Where am I? What a lovely land!


		Vineyards?  Am I seeing straight?


		And, likewise, grapes to hand!


		Deep in this green arbour, here,
		See, the vines!  What grapes appear!
(He grasps Siebel by the nose: the others do the same reciprocally,
and raise their knives.)


2320		From their eyes, Error, take the iron band, 
		And let them see how the Devil plays a joke.
(He vanishes with Faust: the revellers separate.)


		What’s happening?

		And how?
		Was that your nose?
Brander (To Siebel.)

		And I’ve still got your nose in my hand!


		It was a tremor, that passed through every limb!
2325		Pass me a stool: I’m sinking in!  

		Tell me: what happened there, my friend?


		Where is he?  When I catch that fellow,
		He won’t leave here alive again!

		I saw him myself fly out of the cellar
2330		Riding on a barrel – and then – 
		I feel there’s lead still in my feet.
(He turns towards the table.)

		Ah! Does the wine still flow as sweet?


		It was deception, cheating, lying.


		Still, it seemed that I drank wine.


2335		And what about all those grapes that hung there?  


		Tell me, now, we shouldn’t believe in wonders!

Scene VI: The Witches’ Kitchen

(A giant cauldron stands on a low hearth, with a fire under it.
		Various shapes appear in the fumes from the cauldron.  A She-Ape sits
		next to it, skimming it, watching to see it doesn’t boil over.  The
		He-Ape, with young ones, sits nearby warming himself.  The ceiling and
walls are covered with the Witches’ grotesque instruments.)


		These magical wild beasts repel me, too!
		Are you telling me I can be renewed,
		Wandering around in this mad maze,
2340		Demanding help from some old hag: 
		That her foul cookery will spirit away
		Thirty years from my age, just like that?
		It’s sad, if you know of nothing better!
		The star of hope has quickly set.
2345		Hasn’t some noble mind, or Nature, 
		Found some wondrous potion yet?

		My friend, what you say, again, is intelligent!
		There’s a natural means to make you younger:
		But it’s written, in a book quite different,
2350		And in an odd chapter.  

		I’ll know it, then.


		Fine!  You’ve a method here that needs
		No gold, no doctor, no magician:
		Take yourself off to the nearest field,
		To scratch around, and hoe, and dig in,
2355		Maintain yourself, and constrain 
		Your senses in a narrow sphere:
		Feed yourself on the purest fare,
		Be a beast among beasts: think it no robbery,
		To manure the fields you harvest, there:
2360		Since that’s the best of ways, believe me, 
		To keep your youth for eighty years!

		I’m not used to it, can’t condescend,
		To take a spade in hand, and bend:
		That narrow life wouldn’t suit me at all.

2365		So you must call the witch then, after all.  


		Why is that old witch necessary!
		Why can’t you, yourself, make the brew?

		What a lovely occupation for me!
		And build a thousand bridges, meanwhile, too.
2370		It’s not just art and science that tell, 
		Patience is needed in the work as well.
		A calm mind’s busy years in its creation,
		Only time strengthens the fermentation.
		And everything about it
2375		Is quite a peculiar show!  
		It’s true the Devil taught it:
		The Devil can’t make it though.
(Seeing the creatures.)

		See what a dainty race I hail!
		This is the female: this is the male!
(To the creatures.)

2380		The mistress isn’t home, I say?  

The Creatures

		Feasting away,
		Gone today,
		The Chimney way!

		How long will she be swarming?

The Creatures

2385		As long as our paws are warming.  

Mephistopheles (To Faust.)

		What do you think of these tender creatures?


		As rude as any I ever saw!


		Ah, but to me this kind of discourse
		Shows the most delightful features!
(To the creatures.)

2390		Accursed puppets, tell me true, 
		What are you stirring in that brew?
The Creatures

		We’re cooking up thick beggars’ soup.


		Then there’ll be thousands in the queue.

The He-Ape (Approaches and fawns on Mephistopheles.)

		O, throw the dice quick,
2395		And let me be rich!  
		I’ll be the winner!
		It’s all arranged badly,
		And if I had money,
		I’d be a thinker.

2400		Why does the ape think he’d be lucky, 
		If he’d only a chance to try the lottery!
(Meanwhile the young apes have been playing with a large ball, and
they roll it forward.)

The He-Ape

		The world’s a ball
		It lifts to fall,
		Rolls without rest:
2405		Rings like glass, 
		And breaks as fast!
		It’s hollow at best.
		It’s shining here,
		Here, what’s more:
2410		‘I am living!’ 
		A place dear son,
		To keep far from!
		You must die!
		Its clay will soon
2415		In pieces, lie.  

		Why the sieve?

The He-Ape (Lifting it down.)

		If you were a thief
		I’d know you this minute.
(He runs to the She-Ape, and lets her look through the sieve.)

2420		Look through the sieve!  
		Can you see the thief,
		But daren’t name him?
Mephistopheles (Approaching the fire.)

		And this pot?

The He-Ape and She-Ape

		What a silly lot!
		Not to know a pot,
2425		Not to know a kettle!  

		Rude creature!

The He-Ape

		Take this brush here,
		And sit on the settle.
(He invites Mephistopheles to sit down.)

		Faust (Who all this time has been standing in front of a mirror,
		alternately approaching it and distancing himself from it.)
		What do I see?  What heavenly form
2430		Is this that the magic mirror brings!  
		Love, lend me your swiftest wings,
		Then bear me to fields she adorns!
		Ah, if I do not stand still here,
		If I dare to venture nearer,
2435		I see as if through a mist, no clearer – 
		The loveliest form of Woman, there!
		Is it possible: can Woman be so lovely?
		Must I, in her outspread body, declare
		The incarnation of all that’s heavenly?
2440		Can any such this earth deliver?  

		Naturally, if a God torments himself six days,
		And says to himself, Bravo, at last, in praise,
		He must have made something clever.
		See, this time, what will satisfy you, forever:
2445		I’ll know how to fish that treasure out for you, 
		Happy, the one who finds good fortune in her,
		And carries her home again, as his bride, too.
(Faust gazes endlessly in the mirror.  Mephistopheles stretches
himself on the settle, plays with the brush, and continues to speak.)

		Here I sit like a king on his throne,
		The sceptre’s here, but where’s the crown?
		The Creatures (Who up till now have been making all kinds of grotesque
		movements together, bring Mephistopheles a crown, with great outcry.)
2450		Oh, with sweat and with blood, 
		If you’ll be so good,
		Glue on this crown, sublime!
(They are awkward with the crown, and snap it in two pieces, with
which they leap about.)

		Now that’s out of the way!
		We see, and we say,
2455		We hear, and we rhyme - 
Faust (In front of the mirror.)

		Ah! I’ll go completely mad.

Mephistopheles (Pointing to the creatures.)

		Now my head’s almost spinning.

The Creatures

		If our luck’s not bad,
		If there’s sense to be had,
2460		We must be thinking!  
Faust (As before.)

		My heart pains me with its burning!  Quick,
		Let’s leave this place, forego it!
Mephistopheles (Still in the same position.)

		Well, at least one must admit
		That they’re honest poets.
(The cauldron that the She-Ape has forgotten to keep a watch on, now
		boils over: a great flame flares from the chimney.  The Witch comes
careering down through the flames, with horrendous cries.)

2465		Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! 
		Damned creature!  Accursed sow!
		You left the kettle: you’ve singed me now!
		Accursed creature!
(Seeing Faust and Mephistopheles.)

		What have we here?
2470		Who are you, here?  
		What do you want?
		Who creeps unknown?
		The fire’s pain own
		In all your bone!
(She plunges the skimming-ladle into the cauldron, and scatters flame
		towards Faust, Mephistopheles and the Creatures.  The Creatures

		Mephistopheles (Reversing the brush he holds in his hand, and striking
		among the jars and glasses.)
		One, two!  One, two!
		There lies the brew!
		There lies the glass!
		A joke at last,
		In time, she-ass,
2480		To your melody, too.  
(As the Witch starts back in Anger and Horror.)

		Do you know me?  Skeleton!  Scarecrow!
		Do you know your lord and master?
		What stops me from striking you, so,
		Crushing you, and your ape-creatures?
2485		Have you no respect for a scarlet coat?  
		Don’t you understand a cockerel’s feather?
		Have I hidden my face, you old she-goat?
		Have I to name myself, as ever?
The Witch

		Oh sir, forgive the rude welcome!
2490		I don’t see a single foot cloven.  
		And your two ravens - are where?

		This once, you get away with it:
		It’s truly a good while, isn’t it,
		Since we’ve been seen together.
2495		And Civilisation makes men level, 
		It even sticks to the Devil:
		That Northern demon is no more:
		Who sees horns now, or tail or claw?
		As for the feet, which I can’t spare,
2500		That would harm me with the people.  
		So like many a youth, now, I wear,
		False calves and false in-steps, as well.
The Witch (Dancing.)

		Sense and reason flee my brain,
		I see young Satan here again!

2505		Woman, I forbid that name!  

The Witch

		Why?  What harm is caused so?


		It’s written in story books, always:
		Men are no better for it, though:
		The Evil One’s gone: the evil stays.
2510		Call me the Baron: that sounds good: 
		I’m a gentleman, like the other gentlemen.
		Perhaps you doubt my noble blood:
		See, here’s the crest I carry, then!
(He makes an indecent gesture.)

The Witch (Laughing immoderately.)

		Ha! Ha! That’s your way, as ever.
2515		You’re the same rogue forever!  
Mephistopheles (To Faust.)

		My friend, take note: learn that this is
		The proper way to handle witches.
The Witch

		Now, gentlemen, say how I can be of use.


		A good glass of your well-known juice!
2520		But I must insist on the oldest: 
		The years double what it can do.
The Witch

		Gladly!  Here’s a flask, on the shelf:
		I sometimes drink from it myself,
		And it doesn’t really stink at all:
2525		I’ll gladly give him a glass or so.  

		If he drinks it unprepared, recall,
		He won’t live a single hour, though.

		He’s my good friend: it’ll go down well:
		Don’t begrudge the best of your kitchen.
2530		Draw the circle: speak the speech, then 
		Offer him a glass full!
(The Witch draws a circle with fantastic gestures, and places
		mysterious articles inside it: meanwhile the glasses start to ring,
		and the cauldron to echo, and make music.  Finally she brings a large
		book, sits the Apes in a ring, who serve as a reading desk and hold
torches.  She beckons Faust to approach.)

Faust (To Mephistopheles.)

		Tell me, now, what’s happening?
		These wild gestures, crazy things,
		All of this tasteless trickery,
2535		Is known, and hateful enough to me.  

		A farce!  You should be laughing:
		Don’t be such a serious fellow!
		This hocus-pocus she, the doctor’s, making,
		So you’ll be aided by the juice to follow.
(He persuades Faust to enter the circle.)

The Witch (Begins to declaim from the book, with much emphasis.)

2540		You shall see, then!  
		From one make ten!
		Let two go again,
		Make three even,
		You’re rich again.
2545		Take away four!  
		From five and six,
		So says the Witch,
		Make seven and eight,
		So it’s full weight:
2550		And nine is one, 
		And ten is none.
		This is the Witch’s one-times-one!

		I’m in the dark, the hag babbles with fever.


		There’s still more she’s not gone over,
2555		I know it well, the whole book’s like this: 
		I’ve wasted time on it before, though,
		A perfect contradiction in terms is
		Ever a mystery to the wise: fools more so.
		My friend, the art’s both old and new,
2560		It’s like this in every age, with two 
		And one, and one and two,
		Scattering error instead of truth.
		Men prattle, and teach it undisturbed:
		Who wants to be counted with the fools?
2565		Men always believe, when they hear words, 
		There must be thought behind them, too.
The Witch (Continuing.)

		The highest skill,
		The science, still
		Is hidden from the rabble!
2570		One who never thought, 
		To him it’s brought,
		He owns it without trouble.

		Why talk this nonsense to us?
		My head’s near split in two.
2575		It seems I hear the chorus, 
		Of a hundred thousand fools.

		Enough, enough, O excellent Sibyl!
		Bring the drink along: and fill
		The cup, quick, to the very brim:
2580		The drink will bring my friend no harm: 
		He’s a man of many parts, and him
		Many a noble draught has charmed.
(The Witch, ceremoniously, pours the drink into a cup: as Faust puts
it to his lips, a gentle flame rises.)

		Down it quickly!  Every time!  It’ll
		Likewise, warm your heart, entire.
2585		You’re hand in hand with the Devil: 
		Will you shrink before the fire?
(The Witch breaks the circle.  Faust steps out.)

		Now, quick, away!  You may not rest.

The Witch

		Much good may that potion do you!

Mephistopheles (To the Witch.)

		On Walpurgis Night you can tell me best,
2590		What favour I can return to you.  
The Witch

		Here’s a song!  Sing it sometimes, and you,
		Will feel a peculiar effect: don’t ask me how.
Mephistopheles (To Faust.)

		Come on, quickly, run about now:
		You need to sweat, that will allow
2595		The power to penetrate, through and through.  
		Later, I’ll teach you to value leisure,
		And soon you’ll find with deepest pleasure,
		How Cupid stirs, and, now and then, leaps, too.

		Let me look quickly in the glass, once more!
2600		How lovely that woman’s form, I descried!  

		No! No! The paragon of all women, you’re
		About to see before you, personified.

		With that drink in your body, well then,
		All women will look to you like Helen.
Scene VII: A Street

(Faust.  Margaret, passing by.)


2605		Lovely lady, may I offer you 
		My arm, and my protection, too?

		Not lovely, nor the lady you detected,
		I can go home, unprotected.
(She releases herself and exits.)


		By Heavens, the child is lovely!
2610		I’ve never seen anything more so.  
		She’s virtuous, yet innocently
		Pert, and quick-tongued though.
		Her rosy lips, her clear cheeks,
		I’ll not forget them in many a week!
2615		The way she cast down her eyes, 
		Deep in my heart, imprinted, lies:
		How curt in her speech she was,
		Well that was quite charming, of course!
(Mephistopheles enters.)

		Listen, you must get that girl for me!


		Which one?

2620		The girl who just went by.  

		That one, there?  She’s come from the priest,
		Absolved of all her sins, while I
		Crept into a stall nearby:
		She is such an innocent thing,
2625		She’s no need to sit confessing: 
		I’ve no power with such as those, I mean!

		Yet, she’s older than fourteen.


		Now you’re speaking like some Don Juan
		Who wants every flower for himself alone,
2630		Conceited enough to think there’s no honour, 
		To be plucked except by him, nor favour:
		But that’s never the case, you know.

		Master Moraliser is that so?
		With me, best leave morality alone!
2635		I’m telling you, short and sweet, 
		If that young heart doesn’t beat
		Within my arms, tonight - so be it,
		At midnight, then our pact is done.

		Think, what a to and fro it will take!
2640		I need at least fourteen days, to make 
		Some kind of opportunity to meet her.

		If I’d seven hours at my call,
		I’d not need the Devil at all,
		To seduce such a creature.

2645		You’re almost talking like a Frenchman: 
		But don’t let yourself get all annoyed:
		What’s the use if she’s only part enjoyed?
		Your happiness won’t be as prolonged,
		As if you were to knead and fashion
2650		That little doll, with every passion, 
		Up and down, as yearning preaches,
		And many a cunning rascal teaches.

		I’ve enough appetite without all that.


		Now, without complaint or jesting, what
2655		I’m telling you is, with this lovely child, 
		Once and for all, you mustn’t be wild.
		She won’t be taken by storm, I said:
		We’ll need to use cunning instead.

		Get me a part of the angels’ treasure!
2660		Lead me to where she lies at leisure!  
		Get me a scarf from her neck: aspire
		To a garter, that’s my heart’s desire.

		So you can see how I will strain
		To help you, and ease your pain,
2665		We’ll not let an instant slip away, 
		I’ll lead you to her room today.

		And shall I see her?  And have her?


		No! She has to visit a neighbour.
		Meanwhile, you can be alone there,
2670		With every hope of future pleasure, 
		Enjoy her breathing space, at leisure.

		Can we go?


		Her room’s not yet free.


		Look for a gift for her, from me!

(He exits.)


		A present?  Good!  He’s sure to work it!
2675		I know many a lovely place, up here, 
And many an ancient buried treasure:
		I must have a look around for a bit.
(He exits.)

Scene VIII: Evening, A small well-kept room.
(Margaret, plaiting and fastening the braids of her hair.)


		I’d give anything if I could say
		Who that gentleman was, today!
2680		He’s brave for certain, I could see, 
		And from some noble family:
		That his face readily told –
		Or he wouldn’t have been so bold.
(She exits.) (Mephistopheles and Faust appear.)


		Come in: but quietly, I mean!

Faust (After a moment’s silence.)

2685		I’d ask you, now, to leave me be!  

Mephistopheles (Poking about.)

		Not every girl keeps thing so clean.

(Mephistopheles exits.)


		Welcome, sweet twilight glow,
		That weaves throughout this shrine!
		Sweet love-pangs grip my heart so,
2690		That on hope’s dew must live, and pine!  
		How a breath of peace breathes around,
		Its order, and contentment!
		In this poverty, what wealth is found!
		In this prison, what enchantment!
(He throws himself into a leather armchair near the bed.)

2695		Accept me now, you, who with open arms 
		Gathered joy and pain, in past days, where,
		How often, ah, with all their childish charms
		The little flock hung round their father’s chair!
		There my beloved, perhaps, cheeks full, stands,
2700		Grateful for all the gifts of Christmas fare, 
		Kissing her grandfather’s withered hands.
		Sweet girl, I feel your spirit, softly stray,
		Through the wealth of order, all around me,
		That with motherliness instructs, each day,
2705		The tablecloth to lie smooth, at your say, 
		And even the wrinkled sand beneath your feet.
		O beloved hand, so goddess-like!
		This house because of you is Heaven’s like.
		And here!
(He lifts one of the bed curtains.)

		What grips me with its bliss!
2710		Here I could stand, slowly lingering.  
		Here, Nature, in its gentlest dreaming,
		Formed an earthly angel within this.
		Here the child lay!  Life, warm,
		Filled her delicate breast,
2715		And here, in pure and holy form, 
		A heavenly image was expressed!
		And I! What leads me here?
		Why do I feel so deeply stirred?
		What do I seek?  Why such a heavy heart?
2720		Poor Faust!  I no longer know who you are.  
		Is there a magic fragrance round me?
		I urged myself on, to the deepest delight,
		And feel myself melt in Love’s dreaming flight!
		Are we the sport of every lightest breeze?
2725		And if she appeared at this instant, 
		How to atone for being so indiscreet?
		The great man, alas, of little moment!
		Would lie here, melting, at her feet.
Mephistopheles (Appearing.)

		Quick!  I see her coming, there.


2730		Away!  Away!  I’ll not return again.  


		Here’s a casket fairly loaded, then,
		I’ve taken it from elsewhere.
		Put it just here on the chest,
		I swear it’ll dazzle her, when she sees:
2735		I’ve put in some trinkets, and the rest, 
		For you to win another, if you please.
		Truly, a child’s a child, and play is play.

		I don’t know, shall I?


		Are you asking, pray?
		Perhaps you’d like to keep the treasure, too?
2740		Then I’d advise your Lustfulness, 
		To spare the sweet hours of brightness,
		And spare me a heap of trouble over you.
		I hope that you’re not full of meanness!
		I scratch my head: I rub my hands –
(He places the casket in the chest, and shuts it again.)

2745		Now off we go, and go quickly!  
		Through this you’ll bend the child, you see,
		To your wish and will: as any fool understands:
		Yet now you seem to me
		As if you were heading for the lecture hall, and see
2750		Standing there grey-faced, in front of you, 
		Physics, and Metaphysics too!
		Now, away!
(They exit.)

(Margaret with a lamp.)


		It’s so close and sultry, here,

(She opens the window.)

		And yet it’s not warm outside.
2755		It troubles me so, I don’t know why – 
		I wish that Mother were near.
		A shudder ran through my whole body –
		I’m such a foolish girl, so timid!
(She begins to sing, while undressing.)

		‘There was a king in Thule, he
2760		Was faithful, to the grave, 
		To whom his dying lady
		A golden goblet gave.
		He valued nothing greater:
		At every feast it shone:
2765		His tears were brimming over, 
		When he drank there-from.
		When he himself was dying
		No towns did he with-hold,
		No wealth his heir denying,
2770		Except the cup of gold.  
		He gave a royal banquet,
		His knights around him, all,
		In his sea-girt turret,
		In his ancestral hall.
2775		There the old king stood, yet, 
		Drinking life’s last glow:
		Then threw the golden goblet
		Into the waves below.
		He saw it falling, drowning,
2780		Sinking in the sea, 
		Then, his eyelids closing,
		Never again drank he.’
(She opens the chest in order to arrange her clothes, and sees the

		How can this lovely casket be here?  I’m sure
		I locked the chest when I was here before.
2785		It’s quite miraculous!  What can it hold in store?  
		Perhaps someone brought it as security,
		And my mother’s granted a loan on it?
		There’s a ribbon hanging from it, there’s a key,
		I’m quite determined to open it.
2790		What’s here?  Heavens!  What a show, 
		More than I’ve ever seen in all my days!
		A jewel box!  A noble lady might glow
		With all of these on high holidays!
		How would this chain look?  This display
2795		Of splendour: who owns it, it’s so fine?  
(She puts the jewellery on and stands in front of the mirror.)

		If only the earrings were mine!
		At once one looks so different.
		What makes us beautiful, young blood?
		All that’s fine and good,
2800		But it’s discounted, in the end, 
		They praise us half in pity.
		To gold they tend,
		On gold depend,
		All things!  Oh, poverty!
Scene IX: Promenade

(Faust walking about pensively.  Mephistopheles appears.)


2805		Scorned by all love!  And by hellfire!  What’s worse?  
		I wish I knew: I could use it in a curse!

		What’s wrong?  What’s pinching you so badly?
		I never, in all my life, saw such a face!

		I’d pack myself off to the Devil, in disgrace,
2810		If I weren’t a Devil myself already!  

		Is something troubling your brain?
		It’s fitting that you’ve a raging pain.

		To think, the priest should get his hands on
		Jewellery that was meant for Gretchen!
2815		Her mother snatched it up, to see, 
		And was gripped by secret anxiety.
		That woman’s a marvellous sense of smell,
		From nosing round in her prayer-book too well,
		And sniffs things, ever and again,
2820		To see if they’re holy or profane: 
		And about the jewels, she felt, that’s clear,
		There’s not much of a blessing here.
		‘My child,’ she said, ‘ill-gotten goods
		Snare the soul, and dissipate the blood.
2825		We’ll dedicate it to the Virgin, 
		She’ll repay us with manna from Heaven!’
		Margaret, grimacing wryly, was quite put out:
		Thinking: ‘Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth,
		He’s not a godless man, nor one to fear,
2830		He who left these fine things here.’ 
		Her mother let the parson in:
		He’d scarcely let the game begin
		Before his eyes filled with enjoyment.
		He said: ‘So we see aright, we sinners,
2835		Who overcome themselves are winners.  
		The Church has a healthy stomach, when,
		It gobbles up lands, and don’t forget,
		It’s never over-eaten yet.
		The Church alone, dear lady, could
2840		Always digest ill-gotten goods.’ 

		That’s a universal custom, too, my friend,
		With all those who rule, and those who lend.

		Then he took the bangles, chains and rings,
		As if they were merely trifling things,
2845		Thanked her too, no less nor more 
		Than if it were a sack of nuts one wore.
		Promised them their reward when they died,
		And left them suitably edified.

		And Gretchen?


		Sits there, restlessly, still
2850		Not knowing what she should do, or will, 
		Thinks of the jewels night and day,
		But more of him who placed them in her way.

		The dear girl’s sadness brings me pain.
		Find some jewels for her, again!
2855		Those first were not so fine, I’d say.  

		Oh yes, to gentlemen it’s child’s play!


		Fix it: arrange it, as I want you to,
		Attach yourself to her neighbour, too!
		Don’t be a devil made of clay,
2860		Get her fresh jewels straight away!  

		Yes, gracious sir, gladly, with all my heart.

(Faust exits.)

		Such a lovesick fool would blow up the Sun,
		High up in the air, with the Moon and Stars,
		To provide his sweetheart with some diversion.
(He exits.)

Scene X: The Neighbour’s House

Martha (Alone.)

2865		God forgive that man I love so well, 
		He hasn’t done right by me at all!
		Off into the world he’s gone,
		And left me here, in the dust, alone.
		Truly I did nothing to grieve him,
2870		I gave him, God knows, fine loving.  
(She weeps.)

		Perhaps, he’s even dead!  – Yet, oh!
		If I’d only his death certificate to show!
(Margaret enters.)



		My little Gretchen, what’s happened?

		My legs are giving way beneath me!
2875		I’ve found another box of jewellery 
		In the chest: it’s of ebony, fashioned,
		Full of quite splendid things,
		And richer than the first, I think.

		You’d better not tell your mother:
2880		She’ll give it to the Church, like the other.  

		Ah, See now!  See what a show!

Martha (Dressing her with jewels.)

		O you’re a lucky creature, though!


		I can’t wear them in the street, alas,
		Nor be seen like this, at Mass.

2885		Come often then, to me, as before: 
		You can put them on, here, secretly:
		Stand, for an hour, in front of the mirror,
		We’ll take delight in them privately.
		Then give us a holiday, an occasion,
2890		When people can see a fraction of them.  
		A chain first, then a pearl in the ear: your
		Mother won’t know, say you’d them before.

		Who could have left the second casket?
		There’s something not proper about it!
(A knock.)

2895		Good God!  Is it my mother, then?  

Martha (Looking through the shutter.)

		It’s a stranger, a gentleman – Come in!

(Mephistopheles enters.)


		In introducing myself so freely,
		I ask you ladies to excuse me.
(He steps back reverently on seeing Margaret.)

		It’s Martha Schwerdtlein I seek!


2900		I’m she, what do you wish with me?  

Mephistopheles (Aside to her.)

		I know you now: that’s enough for me:
		You’ve a distinguished visitor there, I see.
		Pardon the liberty I’ve taken, pray,
		I’ll return this afternoon, if I may.
Martha (Aloud.)

2905		To think, child: of all things: just fancy!  
		The gentleman takes you for a lady.

		I’m a poor young thing he’ll find:
		Heavens!  The gentleman’s far too kind:
		The jewels and trinkets aren’t mine.

2910		Ah, it’s not just the jewellery, mind: 
		The look: the manner: she has a way!
		I’m pleased that I’m allowed to stay.

		What brings you here?  I wish that you –


		I wish I brought you happier news!  –
2915		This news I hope you’ll forgive me repeating: 
		Your husband’s dead, but sends a greeting.

		He’s dead?  That true heart!  Oh!
		My man is dead!  I’ll die, also!

		Ah! Dear lady, don’t despair!


2920		Hear the mournful tale I bear!  


		That’s why I’ll never love while I’ve breath,
		Such a loss would grieve me to death.

		Joy must have sorrows: sorrow its joys, too.


		Tell me of his last hours: ah tell me!


2925		He’s buried in Padua, close to 
		The blessed Saint Anthony,
		In a consecrated space,
		A cool eternal resting place.

		Have you brought nothing else, from him?


2930		Yes a request, it’s large and heavy: 
		For you to sing a hundred masses for him!
		Otherwise, no, my pocket’s empty.

		What?  No piece of show?  No jewellery?
		What every workman has in his purse,
2935		And keeps with him as his reserve, 
		Rather than having to starve or beg!

		Madam, it’s a heavy grief to me:
		But truly his money wasn’t wasted.
		And then, he felt his errors greatly,
2940		Yes, and bemoaned his bad luck lately.  

		Ah! How unlucky all men are!  I’ll
		Be sure to offer many a prayer for him.

		You’re worthy of soon marrying:
		You’re such a kindly child.

2945		Oh, no!  That wouldn’t do as yet.  


		If not a husband, a lover, while you wait.
		It’s heaven’s greatest charm,
		To have a dear one on one’s arm.

		That’s not the custom of the country.


2950		Custom or not!  It seems to be.  


		Go on with your tale!


		I stood beside his death-bed,
		Hardly better than a rubbish-tip, poor man,
		Of half-rotten straw: yet he died a Christian,
		And found that he was even further in debt.
2955		‘Alas,’ he cried, ‘I hate myself, with good reason, 
		For leaving, as I did, my wife and my occupation!
		Ah the memory of that is killing me,
		Would in this life I might be forgiven, though!’
Martha (Weeping.)

		The dear man!  I forgave him long ago.


2960		‘Although, God knows, she was more to blame than me.’ 


		The liar!  What!  At death’s door, lies he was telling!


		In his last wanderings, he was rambling,
		If I’m any judge myself of the thing.
		‘I had,’ he said, ‘no time to gaze in play:
2965		First children, then bread for them each day, 
		And I mean bread in the wider sense:
		And couldn’t even eat my share in silence.’

		Did he forget the love, the loyalty,
		My drudgery, night and day!

2970		Not at all, he thought of it deeply, in his way.  
		He said: ‘As I was leaving Malta
		I prayed hard for my wife and children:
		And favour came to me from heaven,
		Since our ship took a Turkish cutter,
2975		Carrying the great Sultan’s treasure.  
		There was a reward for bravery,
		And I received, in due measure,
		The generous share that fell to me.’

		What?  And where?  Has he buried it by chance?


2980		Who can tell: the four winds know the circumstance.  
		A lovely girl there took him on,
		As he, a stranger, roamed round Naples:
		She gave him loyalty, and loved the man,
		And he felt it so, till his last hour fell.

2985		He stole from his children, and his wife!  
		The rogue!  All the pain and misery he met,
		Couldn’t keep him from that shameful life!

		Ah, but: now he’s died of it!
		If I were truly in your place,
2990		I’d mourn him quietly for a year, 
		And look, meanwhile, for a dear new face.

		Ah, sweet God!  I’ll not easily find another,
		In all the world, such as my first one was!
		There never was a dearer fool than mine.
2995		Only he loved roaming too much, at last, 
		And foreign women, and foreign wine,
		And the rolling of those cursed dice.

		Well, that would have still been fine,
		If, with you, he’d followed that line,
3000		And noticed nothing, on your side.  
		I swear that, with that same condition,
		I’d swap rings with you, no question!

		O, the gentleman’s pleased to jest!

Mephistopheles (To himself.)

		I must fly from here, swift as a bird!
3005		She might hold the Devil to his word.  
(To Gretchen.)

		How does your heart feel?  At rest?


		What does the gentleman mean?

Mephistopheles (To himself.)

		Sweet, innocent child!


		Farewell, ladies!

		Oh, speak to me yet, a while!
		I’d like a witness, as to where, how, and when
3010		My darling man died and was buried: then, 
		As I’ve always been a friend of tradition,
		Put his death in the paper, the weekly edition.

		Yes, dear lady, two witnesses you need
		To verify the truth, or so all agree:
3015		I’ve a rather fine companion, 
		He can be your second man.
		I’ll bring him here.
		Oh yes, please do!

		That young lady will be here, too?
		He’s a brave youth!  Travelled, yes,
3020		And with ladies he’s all politeness.  

		I’d be shamed before the gentleman.


		Not before any king on earth, madam.


		Behind the house, then, in my garden,
		Tonight: we’ll expect you gentlemen.
Scene XI: The Street

(Faust.  Mephistopheles.)


3025		How goes it?  Will it be?  Will it soon be done?  


		Ah, bravo!  Do I find you all on fire?
		In double-quick time you’ll have your desire.
		You’ll meet tonight, at her neighbour Martha’s home:
		There’s a woman, who’s the thing,
3030		For procuring and for gipsying!  

		All right!

		But, she needs something from us, too.

		One good turn deserves another, true.


		We only have to bear a valid witness,
		That her husband’s outstretched members bless
3035		A consecrated place in Padua.  

		Brilliant!  We must first make the journey there!


		Sacred Simplicity!  There’s no need to do that.
		Just testify, without saying too much to her.

		If you can’t do better than that, your pact I’ll tear.


3040		O holy man!  Now I see you there!  
		Is it the first time in your life, come swear,
		That you’ve ever born false witness?
		Haven’t you shown skill in definition
		Of God, the World, what’s in it, Men,
3045		What moves them, in mind and breast?  
		With impudent brow, and swollen chest?
		And if you look at it more deeply, oh yes,
		Did you know as much now - confess,
		As you do about Herr Schwerdtlein’s death?

3050		You are, and you’ll remain, a Liar and a Sophist.  


		Yes when no one’s the wiser for it.
		This coming morn, in all honour though,
		Won’t you beguile poor Gretchen so:
		And swear you love her with all your soul?

		From my heart.


3055		Well, and good!  
		And will your eternal Truth and Love,
		Your one all-powerful Force, above –
		Flow from your heart, too, as it should?

		Stop!  Stop!  It will!  If I but feel,
3060		For that emotion, for that throng, 
		Seek the name, that none reveal,
		Roam, with senses, through the world.
		Seize on every highest word,
		And call the fire, that I’m tasting,
3065		Endless, eternal, everlasting – 
		Does that to some devil’s game of lies belong?

		Yet, I’m still right!


		Hear one thing more,
		I beg you, and spare my breath – the one
		Who wants to hold fast, and has a tongue,
3070		He’ll hold for sure.  
		Come, chattering fills me with disgust,
		And then you’re right, especially since I must.
Scene XII: The Garden

(Margaret on Faust’s arm, Martha and Mephistopheles walking up and

		I know the gentleman flatters me,
		Lowers himself, and shames me, too.
3075		A traveller is used to being 
		Content, out of courtesy, with any food.
		I know too well, so learned a man,
		Can’t feed himself on my poor bran.

		A glance, a word from you, feeds me more,
3080		Than all the world’s wisest lore.  
(He kisses her hand.)


		Don’t trouble yourself!  How could you kiss it?
		It’s such a nasty, rough thing!
		What work haven’t I done with it!
		My mother’s so exacting.
(They move on.)


3085		And you, sir, you’re always travelling?  


		Ah, work and duty are such a bother!
		There’s many a place one’s sad at leaving,
		And daren’t stay a moment longer!

		In youth it’s fine, up and down,
3090		Flitting about, the whole world over: 
		Then harsher days come round,
		And lonely bachelors small joy discover,
		In sliding towards their hole in the ground.

		I view the prospect with horror.


3095		Then take advice in time, dear sir.  

(They move on.)


		Yes, out of sight is out of mind!
		Politeness comes naturally to you:
		But you’ll meet friends, often, who,
		Are more sensible than me, you’ll find.

3100		Dearest, believe me, what men call sense, 
		Is often just vanity and short-sightedness.
		How so?

		Ah, that simplicity and innocence never know
		Themselves, or their heavenly worth!
		That humble meekness, the highest grace
3105		That Nature bestows so lovingly – 

		It’s only for a moment that you think of me,
		I’ve plenty of time to dream about your face.

		You’re often alone, then?


		Yes, our household’s a little one,
3110		Yet it has to be cared for by someone.  
		We have no servant: I sweep, knit, sew,
		And cook, I’m working early and late:
		And in everything my mother is so
		Strict, and straight.
3115		Not that she has to be quite so economical: 
		We could be more generous than others:
		My father left a little fortune for us:
		A house and garden by the town-wall.
		But now my days are spent quietly:
3120		My brother is a soldier: I’d 
		A younger sister who died.
		The trouble I had with that child:
		Yet I’d take it on again, the worry,
		She was so dear to me.
		An angel, if like you.

3125		I raised her, and she loved me too.  
		After my father died, she was born,
		We gave mother up for lost, so worn
		And wretchedly she lay there then,
		And slowly, day by day, grew well again.
3130		She couldn’t think of feeding 
		It herself: that poor little thing,
		And so I nursed it all alone,
		On milk and water, as if it were my own,
		In my arms, in my lap,
3135		It charmed me, tumbling, and grew fat.  

		You found your greatest happiness there, for sure.


		But also truly many a weary hour.
		The baby’s cradle stood at night
		Beside my bed: and if it hardly stirred
3140		I woke outright: 
		Now I nursed it, now laid it beside me: heard
		When it cried, and left my bed, and often
		Danced it back and forth, in the room: and then,
		At break of dawn stood at the washtub, again:
3145		Then the market and the kitchen, oh, 
		And every day just like tomorrow.
		One sometimes lacks the courage, sir, and yet
		One appreciates one’s food and rest.
(They move on.)


		Women have the worst of it: it’s true:
3150		A bachelor is hard to change, you see.  

		That just depends on the likes of you,
		The right teacher might improve me.

		Say, have you never found anyone, dear sir?
		Has your heart never been captured, anywhere?

3155		The proverb says: A hearth of your own, 
		And a good wife, are worth pearls and gold.

		I mean: have you never felt desire, even lightly?


		I’ve everywhere been treated most politely.


		I meant to say: were you never seriously smitten?


3160		With ladies, one should never dare be flippant.  


		Ah, you won’t understand me!

		I am sorry!  Yet you’ll find
		I understand – that you are very kind.
(They move on.)


		And, Angel, did you recognise me again,
		As soon as I appeared in the garden?

3165		Didn’t you see my gaze drop then?  


		And you forgive the liberty I’ve taken,
		The impertinence of it all,
		Just as you were leaving the Cathedral?

		I was flustered, such a thing’s never happened to me:
3170		‘Ah’, I thought, ‘has he seen, in your behaviour, 
		Something that’s impertinent or improper?
		No one could ever say anything bad about me.
		He seems to be walking suddenly, with you,
		As though he dealt with a girl of easy virtue’.
3175		I confess, I didn’t know what it was, though, 
		That I began to feel, and to your advantage too,
		But certainly I was angry with myself, oh,
		That I could not be angrier with you.

		Sweet darling!


		Wait a moment!

(She picks a Marguerite and pulls the petals off one by one.)

		What’s that for, a bouquet?

		No, it’s a game.

3180		No, you’ll laugh if I say!  
(She pulls off the petals, murmuring to herself.)


		What are you whispering?

Margaret (Half aloud.)

		He loves me – he loves me not.


		You sweet face that Heaven forgot!

Margaret (Continuing.)

Loves me – Not – Loves me – Not

(She plucks the last petal with delight.)

		He loves me!


		Yes, my child!  Let this flower-speech
3185		Be heaven’s speech to you.  He loves you!  
		Do you know what that means?  He loves you!
(He grasps her hands.)


		I’m trembling!

		Don’t tremble, let this look,
		Let this clasping of hands tell you
3190		What’s inexpressible: 
		To give oneself wholly, and feel
		A joy that must be eternal!
		Eternal!  – Its end would bring despair.
		No, no end!  No end!
(Margaret presses his hand, frees herself, and runs away.  He stands a
moment in thought: then follows her.)

Martha (Coming forward.)

		Night is falling.


3195		Yes, and we must away.  


		I’d ask you to remain here longer,
		But this is quite a wicked place.
		It’s as if they had nothing to do yonder,
		And no work they should be doing
3200		But watching their neighbours’ to-ing and fro-ing, 
		And whatever one does, insults are hurled.
		And our couple, now?

		Flown up the passage, there.
		Wilful little birds!

		He seems keen on her.


		And she on him.  It’s the way of the world.

Scene XIII: An Arbour in the Garden

(Margaret comes in, hides behind the door of the garden-house, holds
her fingers to her lips, and peeps through the gaps.)


		He’s coming.

Faust (Appearing.)

3205		Ah, rascal, you tease me so!  I’ve got you!  

(He kisses her.)

Margaret (Clasping him, and returning the kiss.)

		Dearest man!  With all my heart I love you!

(Mephistopheles knocks.)

Faust (Stamping his foot in frustration.)

		Who’s there?


		A dear friend!

		A creature!
		It’s time to go.
Martha (Appearing.)

		Yes, sir, it’s late!


		May I keep company with you, though?


		My mother would tell me, – Farewell!

		Must I go, then?

		Goodbye, now!


3210		And soon to meet again!  

(Faust and Mephistopheles exit.)


		Dear God!  That one man, by thinking,
		Can know everything, oh, everything!
		I stand in front of him, ashamed
		And just say yes to all he says.
3215		I’m such a poor, ignorant child, and he - 
		I can’t understand what he sees in me.
Scene XIV: Forest and Cavern

(Faust, alone.)

		Sublime spirit, you gave me all, all,
		I asked for.  Not in vain have you
		Revealed your face to me in flame.
3220		You gave me Nature’s realm of splendour, 
		With the power to feel it, and enjoy.
		Not merely as a cold, awed stranger,
		But allowing me to look deep inside,
		Like seeing into the heart of a friend.
3225		You lead the ranks of living creatures 
		Before me, showing me my brothers
		In the silent woods, the air, the water.
		And when the storm roars in the forest,
		When giant firs fell their neighbours,
3230		Crushing nearby branches in their fall, 
		Filling the hills with hollow thunder,
		You lead me to the safety of a cave,
		Show me my own self, and reveal
		Your deep, secret wonders in my heart.
3235		And when the pure Moon, to my eyes, 
		Rises, calming me, the silvery visions
		Of former times, drift all around me,
		From high cliffs, and moist thickets,
		Tempering thought’s austere delight.
3240		Oh, I know now that nothing can be 
		Perfect for Mankind.  You gave me,
		With this joy, that brings me nearer,
		Nearer to the gods, a companion,
		Whom I can no longer do without,
		Though he is impudent, and chilling,
3245		Degrades me in my own eyes, and with 
		A word, a breath, makes your gifts nothing.
		He fans a wild fire in my heart,
		Always alive to that lovely form.
		So I rush from desire to enjoyment,
3250		And in enjoyment pine to feel desire.  
(Mephistopheles enters.)


		Haven’t you had enough of this life yet?
		How can you be happy all this time?
		It’s fine for a man to try it for a bit,
		But then you need a newer clime!

3255		I wish you’d something else to do, 
		Than plague me on a good day.

		Now, now!  I’d gladly ignore you,
		You don’t really mean it anyway.
		You’d be little loss to me,
3260		A rude, mad, sour companion.  
		One’s hands are full all day, and see,
		What pleases you, or what to let be,
		No one can tell from your expression.

		So that’s the tone he takes!
3265		I’m to thank him, for boring me.  

		Poor Son of Earth, how could you make
		Your way through life without me?
		I’ve cured you for a while at least
		Of your twitches of imagination,
3270		If I weren’t here, you’d certainly 
		Have walked right off this earthly station.
		In rocky hollows, in a hole,
		Why sit around here, like an owl?
		From soaking moss and dripping stone,
3275		Sucking your nourishment, like a toad?  
		Spend your time sweeter, better!
		Your body’s still stuck there with the Doctor.

		Do you understand the new power of being
		That a walk in the wilderness can bring?
3280		But then, if you were able to guess, 
		You’re devil enough to begrudge my happiness.

		An other-worldly pleasure.
		Night and day, mountains for leisure.
		Clasping heaven and earth, blissfully,
3285		Inflating yourself, becoming a deity.  
		With expectant urge burrowing through earth’s core,
		Feeling all that six days’ work, in yours,
		To taste who knows what, in power’s pride,
		Overflowing, almost, with the joy of life,
3290		Vanishing, the Earthly Son, 
		And into some deep Intuition –
(With a gesture.)

		I can’t say how – passing inside.


		Fie, on you!


		Ah, you don’t like it from me!
		You’ve the right, to say ‘fie’ to me, politely.
3295		Before chaste ears men daren’t speak aloud, 
		That which chaste hearts can’t do without:
		Short and sweet, I begrudge the pleasure you get
		From occasionally lying to yourself, about it.
		But you won’t hold out for long, I’m sure.
3300		You’re already over-driven, 
		Sooner or later you’ll be given
		To madness, or to fear and horror.
		Enough!  Your lover sits inside,
		All is dull, oppressive to her,
3305		She can’t get you out of her mind, 
		Her deep love overwhelms her.
		First your love’s flood round her flowed,
		As a stream pours from melted snow:
		You’ve so filled her heart, and now,
3310		Your stream again is shallow.  
		Instead of enthroning yourself in the wood,
		Let the great gentleman do some good,
		To that poor little ape of flesh and blood,
		And reward her, I think, for her love.
3315		Her days seem pitifully long: 
		She sits at the window, cloud drifting
		Over the old City wall, sees it lifting.
		‘Would I were a little bird!’ runs her song,
		All day long, and all night long.
3320		Sometimes lively, mostly not, 
		Sometimes crying out, in tears,
		Then quiet again, it appears,
		And always in love.

		You snake!  You snake, you!


3325		A touch!  That caught you!  


		Wretch!  Be gone from my presence:
		Don’t name that lovely girl to me!
		Don’t bring desire for that sweet body
		Before every half-maddened sense!

3330		Well, what then?  She thinks you’ve flown away, 
		And, half and half, you already have, I’d say.

		I’m near her, and were I still far,
		I can’t lose her or forget her,
		I even envy the body of our Lord,
3335		When her lips touch it at the altar.  

		Quite so, my friend!  My envy often closes
		On that pair of twins that feed among the roses.

		Away from me, procurer!


		Fine, you curse and I must smile.
		The god who made both man and woman,
3340		He likewise knew the noblest profession, 
		So made the opportunity as well.
		Go on, it’s a crying shame!
		Since you’re bound, all the same
		For your lover’s room, not death.

3345		Where is the heavenly joy in her arms?  
		Let me warm myself with her charms!
		Do I not always feel her absent breath?
		Am I not the fugitive?  The homeless one?
		The creature without aim or rest,
3350		A torrent in the rocks, still thundering down, 
		Foaming eagerly into the abyss?
		And she beside it, with vague childlike mind,
		In a hut there, on a little Alpine field,
		So, her first homely life you’d find,
3355		Hidden there in that little world.  
		And I, the god-forsaken,
		Was not great enough,
		To grasp the cliffs, and take them,
		And crush them into dust!
3360		I still must undermine her peaceful life!  
		You, Hell, must have your sacrifice.
		Help, Devil, curtail the anxious moment brewing.
		What must be, let it be, and swiftly!
		Let her fate also fall on me,
3365		And she and I rush to ruin!  

		Again it glows: again it seethes!
		Go in and comfort her, you fool!
		When a brain, like yours, no exit sees,
		It calls it the end of all things, too.
3370		Praise him who keeps his courage fresh!  
		Or you’ll soon get quite be-devilled, there.
		I find nothing in the world so tasteless,
		As a Devil, in despair.
Scene XV: Gretchen’s Room

(Gretchen alone at the spinning wheel.)

		‘My peace is gone,
3375		My heart is sore: 
		I’ll find it, never,
		Oh, nevermore.
		When he’s not here,
		My grave is near,
3380		The world is all, 
		A bitter gall.
		My poor head
		Feels crazed to me.
		My poor brain
3385		Seems dazed to me.  
		My peace is gone,
		My heart is sore:
		I’ll find it, never,
		Oh, nevermore.
3390		Only to see him 
		I look out.
		Only to meet him,
		I leave the house.
		His proud steps,
3395		His noble figure, 
		His smiling lips,
		His eyes: their power.
		And all his speech
		Like magic is,
3400		His fingers’ touch, 
		And, oh, his kiss!
		My peace is gone,
		My heart is sore:
		I’ll find it, never,
3405		Oh, nevermore.  
		My heart aches
		To be with him,
		Oh if I could
		Cling to him,
3410		And kiss him, 
		The way I wish,
		So I might die,
		At his kiss!
Scene XVI: Martha’s Garden

(Margaret.  Faust.)


		Promise me, Heinrich!

		If I can!

3415		Say, as regards religion, how you feel.  
		I know that you are a dear, good man,
		Yet, for you, it seems, it has no appeal.

		Leave that alone, child!  You feel I’m kind to you:
		For Love I’d give my blood, my life too.
3420		I’ll rob no man of his church and faith.  

		That’s not right, we must have faith.


		Must we?


		Ah, if in this I was only fluent!
		You don’t respect the Holy Sacrament.

		I respect it.


		Without wanting it, though.  You’ve passed
3425		So many years without confession, or mass.  
		Do you believe in God?

		My darling, who dare say:
		‘I believe in God’?
		Choose priest to ask, or sage,
		The answer would seem a joke, would it not,
		Played on whoever asks?

3430		So, you don’t believe?  


		Sweetest being, don’t misunderstand me!
		Who dares name the nameless?
		Or who dares to confess:
		‘I believe in him’?
3435		Yet who, in feeling, 
		Says: ‘I don’t believe’?
		The all-clasping,
		The all-upholding,
3440		Does it not clasp, uphold, 
		You: me, itself?
		Don’t the heavens arch above us?
		Doesn’t earth lie here under our feet?
		And don’t the eternal stars, rising,
3445		Look down on us in friendship?  
		Are not my eyes reflected in yours?
		And don’t all things press
		On your head and heart,
		And weave, in eternal mystery,
3450		Visibly: invisibly, around you?  
		Fill your heart from it: it is so vast,
		And when you are blessed by the deepest feeling,
		Call it then what you wish,
		Joy!  Heart!  Love!  God!
3455		I have no name 
		For it!  Feeling is all:
		Names are sound and smoke,
		Veiling Heaven’s bright glow.

		That’s all well and good, I know,
3460		The priest says much the same, 
		Only, in slightly different words.

		It’s what all hearts, say, everywhere
		Under the heavenly day,
		Each in its own speech:
3465		And why not I in mine?  

		Listening to you, it almost seems quite fine,
		Yet something still seems wrong, to me,
		Since you don’t possess Christianity.

		Dear child!


		I’ve long been grieved
3470		To see you in such company.  

		Why, who?


		That man who hangs round you so,
		I hate him in my innermost soul:
		Nothing in all my life has ever
		Given my heart such pain, no, never,
3475		As his repulsive face has done.  

		Don’t be afraid of him, sweet one!


		His presence here, it chills my blood.
		To every other man I wish good:
		But much as I’m longing to see you
3480		I’ve a secret horror of seeing him, too, 
		I’ve thought him a rogue, all along!
		God forgive me, if I do him wrong!

		There have to be such odd fellows.


		I’d rather not live with such as those!
3485		Once he’s inside the door, again, 
		He looks around in a mocking way,
		And half-severely:
		You can see he’s not at all in sympathy:
		It’s written on his forehead even,
3490		That there’s no spirit of love within.  
		I’m so happy in your arms,
		Free, untroubled, and so warm,
		Yet I’m stifled in his presence.

		You angel, full of presentiments!


3495		It oppresses me, so deeply, too, 
		That when he meets with us, wherever,
		I feel that I no longer love you.
		Ah I can’t pray when he’s there,
		And that gnaws inside me: oh,
3500		Heinrich, for you too, surely it’s so.  

		It’s merely an antipathy!


		I must go now.


		Ah, will there never be
		An hour where I can clasp you to my heart,
		And heart to heart, and soul, to soul impart?

3505		Ah, if I only slept alone!  
		For you, I’d gladly draw the bolt tonight:
		But my mother hears the slightest tone,
		And if we were caught outright,
		I’d die on the selfsame spot!

3510		You angel: no need for that.  
		Here is a little phial to keep!
		Three drops of this, in her drink, she’ll take,
		And Nature will favour her with deepest sleep.

		What would I not do for your sake?
3515		I hope that it won’t harm her though!  

		Would I advise it, Love, if it were so?


		Ah, I only have to see you, dearest man,
		And something bends me to your will,
		For you, so much, I have already done,
3520		Little remains for me to do for you still.  
(She exits.)

(Mephistopheles enters.)

		The little monkey!  Has it gone?


		Spying again, are you?


		I’ve heard in infinite detail, how
		The Doctor works his catechism through,
		And I hope it does you good, now.
3525		Girls are always so keen to review 
		Whether one’s virtuous, and sticks to the rules.
		They think if a man can be led, he’ll follow too.

		Monster, you can’t see
		How this true loving soul,
3530		Full of a belief, 
		That is wholly
		Her salvation, torments herself so,
		In case her lover should be lost indeed.

		You sensual wooer, beyond the sensual,
3535		A Magdalen leads you by the nose, I see.  

		Abortion, of the filth and fire of hell!


		And how well she reads one’s physiognomy:
		In my presence, senses, without knowing how,
		The hidden mind behind the mask: she feels
3540		That I’m an evil genius, at least, and now 
		Perhaps, that it’s the Devil it conceals.
		So, tonight?  –

		What’s that to you?


		I take my pleasure in it too!

Scene XVII: At The Fountain

(Gretchen and Lisbeth.)


		Have you not heard from Barbara?


3545		Not a word.  I go out so seldom.  


		It’s certain, Sibyl told me: well then,
		She finally fell to that seducer.
		There’s a lady for you!

		How so?


		It stinks!
		She’s feeding two when she eats and drinks.

3550		Oh! 


		Serves her right then, finally.
		She clung to that fellow, oh so tightly!
		That was a fine to-ing and fro-ing,
		Round the village, and dance-going,
3555		Ahead of us all, they had to shine, 
		Him treating her always to cakes and wine:
		She the picture of loveliness, oh so fine,
		So low after all, then, and so shameless,
		And the gifts she took from him, nameless.
3560		It was all kissing and carrying on: 
		But now the flower is gone!

		The poor thing!


		Why are you so pitying?
		When each of us was at our spinning,
		When mother never let us out,
3565		She and her lover hung about: 
		On the bench, in a dark alley,
		Forgetting the time, he and she.
		She can’t raise her head again,
		In a sinner’s shift now, penitent.

3570		Surely he’ll take her for his wife.  


		He’d be a fool!  A lively fellow
		Can ply his trade elsewhere, and so -
		He’s gone.
		Oh, that’s not nice!

		If she gets him, she’ll reap ill in a trice,
3575		The lads will tear at her wreath, what’s more 
		We’ll scatter chaff in front of her door!
(She exits.)

Gretchen (Walking home.)

		How proudly I’d revile her, then,
		Whenever some poor girl had fallen!
		I couldn’t find words enough, I mean,
3580		To pour out scorn for another’s sin!  
		Black as it seemed, I made it blacker,
		Not black enough for me: oh never.
		It blessed its own being, that proud self,
		Yet now I’m the image of sin, myself!
3585		Yet all that drove me on to do it, 
		God!  Was so fine!  Oh, so sweet!
Scene XVIII: A Tower

(In a niche of its wall a shrine, and image of the Mater Dolorosa,
with flowers in front of it.  Gretchen sets out fresh flowers.  )


		Oh bow down,
		Sorrowful one,
		Your kind face, to my affliction!
3590		A sword in your heart, 
		Where a thousand pains start,
		You look up, at your dead Son.
		You look up to the Father,
		You send Him your sighs, there,
3595		For His, and for your, affliction.  
		Who then can feel,
		How like steel,
		Is the pain inside my bones?
		What my poor heart fears for,
3600		What it quakes for, and longs for 
		You know, and you alone!
		Wherever I go now,
		How sore, sore, sore now
		How sore my heart must be!
3605		Ah, when I’m alone here, 
		I moan, moan, moan here:
		My heart it breaks in me.
		The pots before my window!
		My tears bedewed them so,
3610		In the early dawn, when 
		I picked the flowers below.
		The sun it shone so brightly,
		And early, in my room,
		Where I sat already,
3615		On my bed, in deepest gloom.  
		Help me!  Oh, save me, from shame and destruction!
		Oh, bow down,
		Sorrowful one,
		Your kind face, to my affliction!
Scene XIX: Night

(The Street in front of Gretchen’s door.)

Valentine (A soldier, Gretchen’s brother.)

3620		When I have sat, and heard the toasts, 
		Where everyone makes good his boasts,
		And comrades praised, to me, the flower
		Of maidenhood, and loud the hour,
		With brimming glass that blurred the praise,
3625		And elbows sticking out all ways, 
		I sat in my own peace secure,
		Listening to the boastful roar,
		And as I stroked my beard, I’d smile
		And take a full glass in my hand,
3630		Saying: ‘Each to his own, but I’ll 
		Ask if there’s any in this land,
		Who, to my Gretel, can compare
		Whose worth can ever equal hers?’
		Hear!  Hear!  Clink!  Clang!  Went around:
3635		Some cried out: ‘He’s quite correct, 
		She’s an ornament to all her sex.’
		There sat the boasters, not a sound.
		And now!  – I could tear my hair out, bawl,
		And dash my head against the wall!  –
3640		With jeers, they now turn up their noses: 
		Every rogue can taunt me, he supposes!
		Like a bankrupt debtor, when I’m sitting,
		A casual word can start me sweating!
		And though I thrash them all together,
3645		I’ve still no right to call them liars.  
		Who goes there?  What’s creeping by?
		If I’m not wrong, there’s two I spy.
		If it’s him, I’ll have him by the skin,
		Alive he’ll not leave the place he’s in!
(Faust.  Mephistopheles)


3650		How the glow of the eternal light 
		Shines from the Sacristy window, there,
		On either side grows fainter, fainter,
		And all around draws in the night!
		Now it seems as dark within my heart.

3655		And I’ve a little of the tom-cat’s art, 
		That creeps around the fire escape,
		Then slinks along the wall, a silent shape,
		I’m quite virtuous in my way,
		A little prone to thieve, and stray.
3660		The splendour of Walpurgis Night, 
		Already haunts all my members,
		It’s the day after tomorrow’s light:
		There, why one watches, one remembers.

		Meanwhile you’ll bring that wealth to view,
3665		That I see there, glimmering, behind you?  

		You’ll soon experience the delight
		Of holding this cauldron to the light.
		I recently had a squint inside –
		Where splendid silver dollars hide.

3670		And not a jewel, or a ring, 
		To adorn my darling girl?

		Among the rest I saw a thing,
		A sort of necklace, made of pearl.

		That’s good!  It’s painful to me,
3675		To take no gift for her to see.  

		You shouldn’t find it so annoying,
		To get something now, for nothing.
		Now the sky glows, filled with stars,
		You’ll hear the work of a master:
3680		I’ll sing a few moralising bars, 
		All the better to seduce her.
(Sings to the zither.)

		‘Why are you here,
		Katrina dear,
		In daylight clear,
3685		At your lover’s door?  
		No, no!  Not when,
		It will let in,
		A maid, and then,
		Let out a maid no more!
3690		Take care: for once 
		It’s over and done,
		And it’s all gone,
		Goodnight to you, poor thing!
		Keep love’s belief,
		And pleasure brief,
3695		From every thief, 
		Unless you’ve a wedding ring.’
Valentine (Approaching.)

		Whom do you lure?  By every element!
		You evil-tongued rat-catcher!
3700		To the devil, with your instrument!  
		To the devil, too, with the singer!

		The zither’s broken!  There’s nothing left of it.


		There’s a still a skull left I’ll need to split!

Mephistopheles (To Faust.)

		Look lively, Doctor!  Don’t give ground.
3705		Stand by: I’ll command this thing.  
		Out with your fly-whisk, now.
		You lunge!  I’m parrying.

		Parry, then!


		And why not, indeed?


		And that!


		Ah, yes!


		The devil opposes me!
3710		What’s this?  My hand’s already maimed.  
Mephistopheles (To Faust.)

		Thrust, home!

Valentine (Falls.)



		Now, the lout is tamed!
		Away, we must go!  Swiftly, of course,
		Soon the cries of murder will begin,
		With the police, now, I’m well in:
3715		But not so much so with the courts.  
(He exits with Faust.)

Martha (At the window.)

		Come here!  Come here!

Gretchen (At the window.)

		Here’s a light!


		Hear how they swear and struggle, yell and fight.


		Here’s one dead already!

Martha (Leaving the house.)

		Where have the murderers gone?

Gretchen (Leaving the house.)

		Who is it, lying there?


3720		Your mother’s son.  


		Almighty God!  What misery!


		I’m dying!  That’s soon spoken,
		And, sooner still, it will be done.
		Why stand there, crying, woman?
3725		Come, hear me everyone!  
(They gather round him.)

		You’re still young, my Gretchen, see!
		And still haven’t sense enough, to be
		Effective in your occupation.
		I’ll tell you confidentially:
3730		Now that you’re a whore indeed, 
		Be one, by proclamation!

		My brother!  God!  Why speak to me so?


		In this business, leave God alone!
		Sadly, what is done is done,
3735		And what will come: will come.  
		Begin with one, in secret, then,
		Soon you’ll gather other men,
		And, when a dozen of them have had you,
		All the town can have you too.
3740		When Shame herself appears, 
		She’s first brought secretly to light,
		Then they draw the veil of night
		Over both her eyes and ears:
		Men would gladly kill her, I say,
3745		But they let her walk about and prosper, 
		So she goes nakedly by day,
		Yet isn’t any lovelier.
		She’s the uglier to our sight,
		The more it is she seeks the light.
3750		Truly I can see the day 
		When all honest people
		Will turn aside from you, girl,
		As from a corpse with plague.
		Your heart’s flesh will despair,
3755		When they look you in the face, 
		You’ll have no golden chain to wear!
		At the altar, there, you’ll have no place!
		You’ll not be dancing joyfully
		In all your lovely finery!
3760		In some wretched gloomy corner, you 
		Will hide, with cripples and beggars too,
		And, though God may still forgive,
		Be damned on earth while you live!

		Commend your soul to God’s mercy!
3765		Will you end your life with blasphemy?  

		If I could destroy your withered body,
		Shameless, bawd, I’d hope to see
		A full measure of forgiveness
		For me, and all my sinfulness.

3770		My brother!  These are the pains of hell!  


		I said, leave off weeping, girl!
		When you and honour chose to part,
		That was the sword-thrust in my heart.
		I go, through a sleep within the grave,
3775		To God, as a soldier, true and brave.  
(He dies.)

Scene XX: The Cathedral

(A Mass, with organ and choir.)

(Gretchen among a large congregation: the Evil Spirit behind

The Evil Spirit

		How different it was, Gretchen,
		When you, still innocent,
		Came here to the altar,
		And from that well-thumbed Book,
3780		Babbled your prayers, 
		Half, a childish game,
		Half, God in your heart!
		What’s in your mind?
3785		In your heart, 
		What crime?
		Do you pray for your mother’s soul, who
		Through you, fell asleep to long, long torment?
		Whose blood is on your doorstep?
3790		And beneath your heart, 
		Does not something stir and swell,
		And trouble you, and itself,
		A presence full of foreboding?

		Oh! Oh!
3795		Would I were free of the thoughts 
		That rush here and there inside me,
		Despite myself!
		Choir (Singing the Requiem Mass, the verses of Thomas of Celano, which
		commence: ‘That day, the day of wrath, will dissolve the world to
		‘Dies Irae, dies illa,
		Solvet saeclum in favilla!’
(The organ sounds.)

The Evil Spirit

3800		Wrath grasps you!  
		The trumpet sounds!
		The grave trembles!
		And your heart,
		From ashen rest,
3805		To fiery torment 
		Brought again,

		Would I were not here!
		It seems to me as if the organ
3810		Steals my breath, 
		The Hymn dissolves
		My heart in the abyss.

(Verse 6:‘So when the Judge takes the chair, whatever is hidden will
appear, nothing is left unpunished there.’)

		‘Judex ergo cum sedebit,
		Quidquid latet adparebit,
3815		Nil unultum remanebit.’ 

		I’m so stifled!
		The pillars of the walls
		Imprison me!
		The arches
3820		Crush me!  – Air!  
The Evil Spirit

		Hide yourself!  Sin and shame
		Cannot be hidden.
		Light?  Air?
		Misery, to you!
		Choir (Verse 7: ‘What shall I say in that misery, who shall I ask to
		speak for me, when the righteous will be saved, and barely?’)
3825		‘Quid sum miser tunc dicturus, 
		Quem patronum rogaturus,
		Cum vix Justus sit securus?’
The Evil Spirit

		The transfigured, turn
		Their faces from you.
3830		The pure, shudder 
		To offer you their hand.
Choir (Repeats: ‘What shall I say in that misery?’)

		‘Quid sum miser tunc dicturus?’


		Neighbour!  Your restorative!

(She falls, fainting.)

Scene XXI: Walpurgis Night

(The Hartz Mountains, in the region of Schierke and Elend.)

(Faust, Mephistopheles.)


3835		Don’t you just long for a broomstick?  
		I wish I’d the sturdiest goat to ride.
		Like this, the journey’s not so quick.

		So long as my legs can do the trick,
		This knotted stick will do me fine.
3840		Why do we need a shorter way!  – 
		To wander this labyrinth of valleys,
		Climb all these cliffs and gullies,
		From which the waters ever spray,
		That’s a delight enchants the day!
3845		Spring stirs already in the birches, 
		And even the fir tree knows it now:
		Shouldn’t our limbs feel it search us?

		Truly, I don’t feel a thing!
		It’s winter in my body, still,
3850		On my path I want it frosty, snowing.  
		How sadly the Moon’s imperfect circle
		With its red belated glow, is rising,
		So dim its light that at every step
		You scrape a rock, or else a tree!
3855		Ah, there, a will o’ the wisp leapt!  
		It’s burning fiercely, now, I see.
		Hey!  My friend!  May I ask your aid?
		Would you like to give us a blaze?
		Be so good as to light us up the hill!
Will O’ The Wisp

3860		With respect, I hope I’ll still be able, 
		To keep my Natural light quite stable:
		We usually zig-zag here, at will.

		Ha, ha!  He thinks to play the human game.
		Go straight along now, in the Devil’s name!
3865		Or I’ll blow out your flickering spark!  
Will O’ The Wisp

		You’re master of the house, I’ll remark,
		And yes, I’ll serve you willingly.
		But think!  The mount is magically mad today,
		And if a will o’ the wisp should lead the way,
3870		You mustn’t judge things too precisely.  
Faust, Mephistopheles, The Will O’ The Wisp (In alternating song.)

		We it seems, now find ourselves.
		In the sphere of dreams and magic,
		Do us honour, guide us well
		So our journey will be quick,
3875		Through the wide, deserted spaces!  
		Tree on tree now shift their places,
		See how fast they open to us
		And the cliffs bow down before us,
		And their long and rocky noses,
3880		How they whistle and blow, for us!  
		Through the stones, and through the grasses,
		Stream and streamlet, downward, hurrying.
		Is that rustling?  Is that singing?
		Do I hear sweet lovers’ sighing,
3885		Heavenly days, is that their babbling?  
		What we hope for, what we love!
		And the echoes, like the murmuring
		Of those other days, are ringing.
		‘Too-wit!  Too-woo!’ sounding nearer,
3890		Owl there, and jay, and plover, 
		Are they all awake above?
		A salamander in the scrub, he’s
		Long of leg, and fat of belly!
		And every root like a snake,
3895		Over sand and rock all bent, 
		Stretches with a strange intent,
		To scare us, of us prisoners make:
		From the gnarled and living mass,
		Stretching towards those who pass,
3900		Fibrous tentacles.  And mice 
		Multi-coloured, lemming-wise,
		In the moss and in the heather!
		And all the fire-flies glowing,
		Crushed together, tightly crowding,
3905		In their tangled cohorts gather.  
		Tell me, are we standing still,
		Or are we climbing up the hill?
		All seems spinning like a mill,
		Rocks and trees, with angry faces
3910		Lights, now, wandering in spaces, 
		Massing: swelling at their will.

		Grasp me bravely by the coat-tail!
		Here’s a summit in the middle,
		Where, astonished you can see,
3915		Mammon glowing furiously.  

		How strangely, through the hollow, glows
		A sort of dull red morning light!
		Into the deepest gorge it flows,
		Scenting abysses in their night.
3920		There vapour rises: here cloud sweeps, 
		Here the glow burns through the haze,
		Now like a fragile thread it creeps,
		Now like a coloured fountain plays.
		Here a vast length winds its way,
3925		In a hundred veins, down the vales, 
		And here in a corner, locked away,
		All at once, now lonely, fails.
		Nearby the sparks pour down,
		Like showers of golden sand,
3930		But see!  On all the heights around, 
		The cliffs, now incandescent, stand.

		Has Mammon not lit his palace
		Splendidly, for this festivity?
		It’s fortunate you’re here to see,
3935		I already sense the eager guests.  

		How the wind roars through the air!
		And whips around my head!

		Grasp the ancient stony bed,
		Lest you’re thrown in the abyss, there.
3940		Mist dims the night to deepest black.  
		Hear the forest timbers crack!
		The owls are flying off in terror.
		Hear, how the columns shatter,
		In the vast, evergreen halls.
3945		Now the boughs groan and fall!  
		All the tree-trunks are thrumming!
		All their roots are creaking, gaping!
		Sinking in a tangled horror,
		Crashing down on each other,
3950		And through the ruined gorges 
		The wind howls and surges.
		Hear the voices on the heights?
		Far away, and then nearby?
		Yes, a furious magic song
3955		Sweeps the mountain, all along!  
Witches (In chorus.)

		To Brocken’s tip the witches stream,
		The stubble’s yellow, the seed is green.
		There the crowd of us will meet.
		Lord Urian has the highest seat.
3960		So they go, over stone and sticks, 
		The stinking goat, the farting witch.
A Voice

		Old Baubo comes, alone, and how:
		She’s riding on a mother-sow.

		So honour then, where honour’s due!
3965		Baubo, goes first!  Then, all the crew!  
		A tough old sow, a mother proud,
		Then follow, all the witches’ crowd.
A voice

		Which way did you come?

A voice

		By the Ilsen Stone!
		I gazed at the owl in her nest alone.
3970		What a pair of Eyes she made!  
A Voice

		O, all you who to Hell’s gate go!
		Why ride there so quickly though?
A Voice

		She’s driven me hard: oh, see,
		The wounds, all over me!
		Witches, Chorus

		The way is broad: the way is long.
		Where is this mad yearning from?
		The fork will prick, the broom will scratch,
		The child will smother: the mother crack.
		Wizards, Half-Chorus

		Like snails in their shells, we’re crawlers,
		All the women are there before us.
3980		At the House of Evil, when we’re callers, 
		Woman’s a thousand steps before us.
The Other Half

		We don’t measure with so much care,
		In a thousand steps a Woman’s there.
		But make whatever speed she can,
3985		A single leap, and there is Man.  
Voice (From above.)

		Come now: come now from stony mere!

Voice (From below.)

		We’d like to climb the heights from here.
		We’re as bright and clean as ever,
		But we’re unfruitful still, forever.
Both Choruses

3990		The wind is quiet: a star shoots by, 
		The shadowy Moon departs the sky.
		The magic choir’s a rush of sparks,
		Thousands shower through the dark.
Voice (From below.)

		Halt!  Halt!

Voice (From above.)

3995		Who calls there, from the stony vault?  

Voice (From below.)

		Take me with you!  Take me with you!
		Climbing for three hundred years,
		I haven’t reached the summit yet,
		I long to be where my peers are met.
Both Choruses

4000		Here’s the broom: and here’s the stick, 
		The ram is here, the fork to prick.
		Tonight, whoever can’t deliver
		There’s a man is lost forever.
Half-witches (Below.)

		I’ve stumbled round so long, down here:
4005		How far ahead the rest appear!  
		I get no peace around the house,
		And get none either hereabouts.
Chorus of Witches

		An ointment makes the witches hale:
		A rag will do them for a sail,
4010		A trough’s a goodly ship, and tight: 
		He’ll fly not who flies not tonight.
Both Choruses

		And once we’ve soared around,
		So, alight then, on the ground,
		Cover the heather, far and wide,
4015		With your swarming witches’ tide.  
(They let themselves fall.)


		They push and shove, they roar and clatter!
		They whistle and whirl, jostle and chatter!
		They glimmer and sparkle, stink and flare!
		The genuine witch-element’s there!
4020		We’ll soon be parted, so stay near!  
		Where are you?
		Faust (In the distance.)

		What!  Nearly out of sight?
		Then I’ll have to use a master’s right.
		Ground!  Sir Voland comes.  Sweet folk, give ground!
		Here, Doctor, hold tight!  In a single bound,
4025		Far from the crowd, we’ll soon be free: 
		It’s too much, even for the likes of me.
		Something burned there with a special light,
		In that thicket, as far then as I could see,
		Come on!  We can slip inside, all right.

4030		You spirit of contradiction!  Go on!  I follow you.  
		I think after all it’s worked out quite cleverly:
		We walk the Brocken on Walpurgis Night, yet we
		Are as isolated now, as we ever could choose.

		See now, what colours flare!
4035		A lively mob club together there.  
		In little groups one’s not alone.

		I’d still rather be higher, though!
		I can see fire and whirling smoke.
		There the crowd stream, to the Evil One:
4040		There many a puzzle finds solution.  

		But many a puzzle’s knotted so.
		Let the whole world have its riot,
		Here we’ll house ourselves in quiet.
		It’s a long and well-established tradition,
4045		From the great one makes a smaller edition.  
		I see young witches, naked, bare,
		And old ones, veiled cunningly.
		For my sake, be a little friendly.
		The trouble’s slight, the fun is rare.
4050		I hear instruments being tuned, too!  
		A cursed din, you’ll soon get used to.
		Come, with me!  There’s no way otherwise,
		I’ll step ahead, lead you to their eyes,
		And earn your fresh gratitude, so.
4055		What say you?  There’s lots of room, my friend.  
		Look over there!  You can’t see its end.
		A hundred fires burning, in a row,
		They love, and drink, and dance, and chat,
		Tell me where you’ll find better than that?

4060		Will you, as we make our bow, 
		Play the devil, or wizard now?

		To be sure I’m used to travelling incognito,
		But on formal occasions rank’s allowed to show.
		I’ve no Knight’s garter to mark me out,
4065		But the cloven foot’s honoured in this house.  
		Do you see how that snail there crawls to me:
		With those delicate feelers on its head,
		It’s already scented me, you see,
		I can’t deny myself, if I wished.
4070		Come!  We’ll go from fire to fire, 
		I’m the broker: you’re the suitor.
(To some, sitting by dying embers.)

		Old sirs, what do you sit at the edge for?
		I’d praise you, in the middle, more,
		Among the youthful buzz, and shout.
4075		You’re alone enough inside the house.  
The General

		Who would trust the Nation!
		One’s toiled so long for it:
		With the people, as with women,
		Youth’s always the best fit.
The Minister

4080		From every rule they’ve gone astray, 
		Me, I praise the good old days,
		Then, truly, we were all the rage,
		That was a real golden age.
The Nouveau Riche

		We weren’t so stupid, you’d have found,
4085		And often did, what wasn’t right: 
		But now it all turns round and round,
		Just as we’d like to grasp it tight.

		Who writes anything good these days,
		Or reads with moderate intelligence!
4090		And what the dear young folk all praise, 
		I’ve never seen such stupid nonsense.
Mephistopheles (Suddenly looking old.)

		I feel folk are ripe for Judgement Day,
		Of Witches’ Mount, I’ve made my last ascent.
		And now my cask runs cloudy, anyway,
4095		The world itself is all as good as spent.  

		Gentlemen: don’t pass me by!
		Don’t lose the opportunity!
		Inspect my wares attentively,
		I’ve a selection for your eye.
4100		There’s nothing on my stall, here, 
		On Earth, it’s equal you’ll not find,
		That hasn’t caused some harm somewhere,
		To the world itself, and then, mankind.
		No knife that isn’t dyed in gore,
4105		No cup that, through some healthy body, 
		Hot, gnawing venom hasn’t poured,
		No gems that haven’t bought some kindly
		Girl, no sword that’s not cut ties that bind,
		Or, perhaps, struck an enemy from behind.

4110		Granny!  You misunderstand the age.  
		What’s gone: is done!  What’s done: is gone!
		Get novelties they’re all the rage!
		Now it’s novelties that lead us on.

		Don’t let me lose myself in here!
4115		Now, this is what I call a fair!  

		This whole whirlpool’s trying to climb above,
		You think you’re shoving, and you’re being shoved!

		Who is that, there?


		Note that madam!
		That’s Lilith.

		First wife to Adam.
4120		Pay attention to her lovely hair, 
		The only adornment she need wear.
		When she traps a young man in her snare,
		She won’t soon let him from her care.

		Those two, the old and young one, sitting,
4125		They’ve leapt about more than is fitting!  

		No rest tonight for anyone.
		Let’s grasp them.  There’s a new dance, come!
Faust (Dancing with the lovely young witch.)

		A lovely dream once came to me,
		And there I saw an apple-tree,
4130		Two lovely apples, there, did shine, 
		Tempting me so, I had to climb.
The Young Witch

		Apples you love a lot, I know,
		That once in Paradise did grow.
		I’m deeply moved with joy to feel,
4135		That such my garden does reveal.  
Mephistopheles (Dancing with the old witch.)

		A vile dream once came to me,
		In it, I saw an old cleft tree,
		A monstrous crack there met my eyes,
		It pleased me, though, despite its size.
The Old Witch

4140		I offer my best greetings to 
		The knight of the cloven shoe!
		He’ll need to have a real stopper,
		If he’s not scared of that whopper.
A Rationalist (Nicolai)

		Cursed Folk!  How do you dare to?
4145		Haven’t we shown, for many a season, 
		Spirits can’t exist: it stands to reason?
		Yet you dance around, just as we do!
The Lovely Witch (Dancing.)

		Why’s he here then, at our ball?

Faust (Dancing.)

		Oh! He’s everywhere, and into all.
4150		While others dance, he must reflect.  
		If he can’t discuss every last step,
		It’s as good as if it didn’t happen.
		He’s angriest at a forward pattern.
		But if you turn around in circles,
4155		As he does in his ancient mills, 
		He’ll call it excellent, least ways
		If you greet with interest what he says.
The Rationalist

		You’re still there!  Oh, it’s quite unheard of.
		We’re enlightened now, so take yourselves off!
4160		The Devil’s crew’s discounted by every rule: 
		Yet though clever, still we’re haunted, in Tegel, too.
The Young Witch

		Well listen: here we’re bored with it!

The Rationalist

4165		I tell you, Spirit, to your face: 
		For me, spirit-rule has no place:
		Because my spirit can’t exercise it.
(The dance continues.)

		I see, tonight, I’ll have no success:
		But I get a bit from every trip,
4170		And hope, before the final step, 
		I’ll defeat the devils and the poets.

		Now he’ll sit in some wet sump,
		And console himself, like that, about you,
		And if he sticks leeches on his rump,
4175		He’s cured of the Spirit, and Spirits, too.  
(To Faust, who has left the dance.)

		Why have you deserted that lovely girl,
		Who sang so sweetly in the dancing?

		Ugh!  Right in the middle of her singing
		A red mouse sprang out of her mouth.

4180		That’s fine: don’t brood on it, anyway: 
		Enough, that the mouse wasn’t grey.
		At harvest time who queries a mouse?

Then I saw –




		Mephisto, can you see
4185		That lovely child, far off, alone there, 
		Travelling slowly, so painfully,
		As if her feet were chained together.
		I must admit, without question
		She’s the image of my sweet Gretchen.

		Forget all that!  It benefits no one.
4190		It’s a lifeless magic form, a phantom.  
		Encountering it will do you no good:
		Its fixed stare freezes human blood,
		And then one’s almost turned to stone:
		Medusa’s story is surely known.

4195		Those are the eyes of the dead, truly, 
		No loving hand has closed their void.
		That’s the breast Gretchen offered to me:
		That’s the sweet body I enjoyed.

		It’s magic, fool: you’re an easy one to move!
4200		She comes to all, as if she were their love.  

		What delight!  What pain!
		I can’t turn from her, again.
		Strange, around her lovely throat,
		A single scarlet cord adorns her,
4205		Like a knife-cut, and no wider!  

		That’s right!  I see it too: and note,
		She can carry her head under her arm,
		Since Perseus did her that fatal harm.
		Always desire for that illusion!
4210		Come on, climb this bit of mountain: 
		It’s as lively as the Vienna Prater,
		And if no one’s deceiving me,
		I’m looking at a genuine theatre.
		You’re showing?

		It’ll be on again shortly.
4215		A fresh performance: last of seven.  
		That number, for us, is traditional.
		An amateur’s written it, and then
		It’s amateurs who perform it all.
		Forgive me, sir, if I break off here,
4220		Since I’m the amateur curtain-raiser.  

		That I find you on the Blocksberg’s good,
		Since I find you exactly where I should.
Scene XXII: A Walpurgis Night’s Dream


		Oberon and Titania’s Golden Wedding.

An Interlude (Intermezzo)

Theatre Manager

		You brave stagehands, of Weimar,
		Take a rest, at least for today.
4225		Ancient mountains, misty vales are, 
		All the scenery for our play.

		Fifty years we’ve passed by,
		To make this wedding golden,
		But let some argument arise:
4230		There’s gold in it, for me, then.  

		Spirits, where I am, be seen:
		Appear, all, at this moment:
		Fairy King, and Fairy Queen,
		Renew their old intent.

4235		Puck comes shooting through the air, 
		And moves his feet, in time:
		After him a hundred, there,
		Share his joyful rhyme.

		Ariel conducts his singing
4240		In pure and heavenly tones: 
		Ugly faces greet its ringing,
		But also lovely ones.

		Partners if you’d get along,
		Learn then from the two of us!
4245		If we in pairs would love for long, 
		Someone needs to separate us.

		The sulky man, the wilful wife,
		So they might know each other,
		I’d show him all the Northern ice,
4250		And show her the Equator.  
The Whole Orchestra (Tutti.  Very loud.)

		From fly-snout and midge-nose,
		And all of their relations,
		Frog and cricket, too, there flow
		These musical vibrations!

4255		See, the bagpipes on their way!  
		Made from a soap-bubble.
		Hear the snail’s-twaddle play
		Through its stumpy nozzle.
Spirit (Newly formed.)

		Spider’s-feet and toad’s-belly,
		With useless winglets to ’em!
		A little creature, it can’t be
		But it makes a little poem.
A Tiny Couple

		Little steps and high leaps,
		Through honeydew and fragrance here,
4265		You still won’t do enough it seems, 
		To climb into the atmosphere.
A Curious Traveller

		A masquerade of mockery?
		Do I dare to trust my eyes?
		Oberon, that fair divinity,
4270		Do I see him here, tonight?  
The Orthodox

		He’s no tail, and not a claw!
		And yet it’s him, it’s true:
		Like the gods of Greece, I’m sure,
		He must be a devil too.
Northern Artist

4275		What I capture here today, 
		In truth is only sketchy:
		Yet I prepare myself, someday
		For my Italian journey.

		Ah! My bad luck brings me here:
4280		Since I haven’t been invited!  
		Of all the witches to appear,
		Only two are powdered.
Young Witch

		Powder like a petticoat
		On an old, grey witch you’ll see,
4285		While I sit naked on my goat, 
		And show a fine young body.
Married Woman

		We have too much experience,
		To moan about you, here, then!
		Yet, as young and tender you are, once,
4290		So, I hope you will be, rotten.  
Orchestral Conductor

		Fly-snout and midge-nose,
		Don’t swarm around the naked!
		Frog and cricket, too, all know
		Your time, and don’t mistake it!
A Wind-Vane (Swinging to one side.)

4295		Society, as one would like it done: 
		True pure brides along the slope!
		And young fellows, one for one,
		People quite brimful of hope!
The Wind-Vane (Swinging to the other side.)

		And if the ground doesn’t split,
4300		And swallow everyone, 
		I’ll be so amazed at it,
		I’ll leap into hell at once.
Xenies (Barbed verses: Greek – gifts exchanged.)

		As insects we appear,
		With little claws we’re nipping,
4305		To do Satan, our Papa, 
		Due honour as is fitting.
Hennings (August Von Hennings, a literary enemy.)

		See them, packed in a crowd,
		Naïve, together, poking fun!
		At last, they’ll even say, aloud,
4310		Their hearts were blameless ones.  
Musagete (Controller of the Muses: Greek – epithet of Apollo)

		Among this witches’ crew,
		I’d gladly lose my way:
		They’re easier to manage, too
		Than Muses, any day.
Former ‘Genius of the Age’

4315		One was someone, among real folk.  
		Come on, then: I can hold my end up!
		Like Germany’s Parnassus, look,
		The Blocksberg’s summit’s broad enough.
Curious Traveller (Nicolai)

		Say, who’s that haughty man?
4320		He walks with such proud steps.  
		He sniffs as only a sniffer-out can.
		‘He smells out Jesuits.’
A Crane (Lavater)

		I like to fish among the clear
		And the muddy levels:
4325		So the pious man appears 
		Mixing with the devils.
A Child of This World (Goethe himself.)

		To the pious man, as I’m aware,
		Every place is fitting,
		So you build, on the Blocksberg here,
4330		Many a house of meeting.  
A Dancer

		Does some new choir succeed?
		I hear a distant drum.
		‘No!  It’s the booming in the reeds,
		Of bitterns, in unison.’
A Dancing Master

4335		How they lift their legs, this lot!  
		As best they can, they all take flight!
		The cripples skip, the clumsy hop,
		And don’t care at all what they look like.
A Fiddle-Player

		The ragged mob all hate so much,
4340		They’d gladly crush the others.  
		Here the bagpipe draws them, just
		As Orpheus’ lyre the creatures.
The Dogmatist

		I won’t declare it’s madness, now,
		Or show myself too critical.
4345		The devil must exist somehow, 
		Or how could we act the devil?
The Idealist

		The fantasy in my mind,
		For once, is too despotic.
		Truly, if I am all, I find
4350		Today I’m idiotic!  
The Realist

		Here’s real pain, at hand,
		It annoys me so to see it:
		For the first time, here I stand,
		Unsteady, on my feet.
A Believer in the Supernatural

4355		It’s very pleasant to be here, 
		And this crowd too has merit:
		Since from the devil I infer
		Some much more virtuous spirit.
A Sceptic

		These little flames a-hunting go,
4360		And think they’re near the treasure: 
		But Devil rhymes with doubtful: so
		My being here’s a pleasure.
Orchestral Conductor

		Frog on leaf, and cricket, oh
		You amateur editions!
4365		Fly-snout and midge-nose, 
		Remember you’re musicians!
The Skilful

		Carefree, is what they call
		This band of happy creatures:
		When we can’t go on foot at all
4370		Our head it is that features.  
The Maladroit

		We picked up many a titbit once,
		But now, God orders things so,
		Our shoes are ragged from the dance,
		And we travel on naked soles.

4375		From the swamps we’ve come, 
		Where we first arose:
		In the ranks here, we, at once,
		As glittering gallants pose.
A Shooting Star

		I shoot here from the sky
4380		And star- and firelight meet.  
		Now across the grass I lie -
		Who’ll help me to my feet?
The Heavy-Footed

		Room, round about us, room!
		We crush the grasses under.
4385		Spirits come, and spirits too 
		Have their bulky members.

		Don’t tread so heavily,
		Like elephantine calves: let
		Puck himself, the sturdy, be,
4390		On this night, the stoutest.  

		Loving nature winged your backs,
		You spirits, one supposes,
		Follow, then, on my light track,
		To the hill of roses!
Orchestra (Quietly: pianissimo)

4395		Trailing cloud, and misted trees, 
		Brighten with the day.
		Breeze in leaves, and wind in reeds,
		And all have flown away.
Scene XXIII: Gloomy Day

(A Field.  Faust, Mephistopheles.)


		In misery!  Despair!  Wandering wretchedly on the face of the earth,
		for ages, and now imprisoned!  That kind, unfortunate creature, locked
		up in prison as a criminal, and lost in torment!  To this!  This!  –
		Treacherous, worthless spirit, you hid it from me!  – Stand there,
		then!  Roll the devil’s eyes in your head, in anger!  Stand there, and
		defy me with your unbearable presence!  Imprisoned!  In irredeemable
		misery!  Delivered up to evil spirits, and the judgement of unfeeling
		men!  And you’ve troubled me meanwhile with tasteless diversions,
		concealed her growing misery from me, and left her helpless in the
		face of ruin!

		She is not the first.


		Dog!  Loathsome Monster!  – Change him, infinite Spirit!  Change the
		worm into his dog-form, in which he often liked to scamper in front of
		me, at night, rolling at the feet of the unsuspecting traveller, and
		clambering on his shoulders when he fell.  Change him into his
		favourite likeness, so he can crawl on his belly in the sand in front
		of me, and I can trample him, depraved thing, under my feet!  – ‘Not
		the first!’ – Misery!  Misery!  That no human spirit can grasp.  That
		more than one being should sink into the depth of this wretchedness:
		that the first, writhing in its death-pangs, under the eyes of Eternal
		Forgiveness, did not expiate the guilt of all the others!  It pierces
		to the marrow of my bones, the misery of this one being – and you
		smile calmly at the fate of thousands!

		Now we’re out of our wits again, already, at the point where men’s
		brains are cracked.  Why did you enter into partnership with us, if
		you can’t go through with it?  Would you take wing, and yet be free of
		dizziness?  Did we thrust ourselves on you, or you on us?

		Don’t gnash your greedy jaws at me!  It disgusts me!  – Great and
		glorious Spirit, you who revealed yourself to me, nobly, who know my
		heart and soul, why shackle me to this disgraceful companion, who
		feeds on injury, and at the last on ruin?

		Have you finished?


		Save her, or woe to you!  May the weightiest curse fall on you for a
		thousand ages!

		I can’t undo the bonds of the Avenger, nor loose his bolts.  – ‘Save
		her!’ –
		Who was it dragged her to ruin?  I or you?
(Faust looks around, wildly.)

		Would you grasp the lightning?  A good thing it has not been allowed
		you miserable mortals!  To crush the innocent one who replies is the
		tyrant’s way to free oneself of an embarrassment.

		Take me to her!  She shall be freed!


		And the danger you expose yourself to?  Be aware, the guilty blood
		from your hands lies on the town.  Avenging spirits hover over the
		place of death, and lie in wait for the murderer’s return.

		And not from yours, too?  Murder, and death in this world, be on you,
		monster!  Take me there, I say, and free her.

		I’ll take you: listen to what I can do!  Have I all the powers of
		heaven and earth?  I’ll confuse the jailor’s mind: you take possession
		of the key, and bring her out, hand in human hand!  I’ll keep watch:
		magic horses are ready: I’ll carry you away.  That, I can do.


Scene XXIV: Night

(An open field.  Faust and Mephistopheles flying onwards on black


		What do they weave, round the Ravenstone?


4400		I don’t know what they’re cooking and brewing.  


		Soaring up, diving down, bending and bowing.


		A guild of witches.


		They scatter, they consecrate.


		Away!  Away!

Scene XXV: A Dungeon

(Faust, with a bunch of keys and a lamp, in front of an iron door.)

4405		A long-forgotten shudder grips me, 
		I’m gripped by all of Mankind’s misery,
		Here behind these damp walls, she
		Lives: and all her guilt’s illusory.
		Do I tremble, then, to free her!
4410		Do I dread, once more, to see her!  
		On! Fear adds to death’s proximity.
(He grips the lock.  She sings within.)

		My mother, the whore
		She killed me!
		My father, the rogue,
4415		He gnawed me!  
		Little sister alone
		Laid out the bone
		In the cool of the clay:
		Then I was a sweet bird on the stone.
4420		Fly away!  Fly away!  
Faust (Unlocking the door.)

		She doesn’t know her lover’s listening,
		Hears the chains, the straw’s rustling.
(He enters.)

Margaret (Hiding herself in the bed of straw.)

		Woe!  Woe!  It comes.  Bitterest Death!

Faust (Whispering)

		Hush!  Hush!  It’s I who come, to free you.

Margaret (Throwing herself down in front of him.)

4425		Are you a man?  Then pity my distress.  


		Your cries will wake the jailors, too!

(He grasps the chains, to loose them.)

Margaret (On her knees.)

		Who gives the executioner
		Such power over me!
		At midnight you’re already here.
4430		Let me live, have mercy on me!  
		Won’t it be soon enough when dawn should come?
(She stands up.)

		I’m still so young, so young!
		And yet I’ll die!
		I was lovely too, that was my
4435		Ruin.  My love was near, now he’s gone: 
		The garland’s torn: the flowers are done.
		Don’t grip me, now, so violently!
		What harm have I done you?  Spare me!
		Don’t let me beg for mercy, in vain,
4440		I’ve never seen you before today!  

		How shall I endure this misery, say!


		I’m wholly in your power.  Oh,
		Let me feed my baby first.
		I caressed it all night, though,
4445		They told me I caused it hurt, 
		And now they say I killed it, so,
		And now I’ll never be happy again.
		They sing songs of me!  It’s wicked of folk!
		There’s an old story ends this way,
4450		Who told them to tell it so?  
Faust (Falling on his knees.)

		A lover lies at your feet,
		Who’ll end your painful slavery.
Margaret (Throwing herself down next to him.)

		O let’s kneel, the saints will bless!
		See here!  Under these steps,
4455		Under this sill, 
		Seethes Hell!
		The Evil One
		With fierce anger,
		Makes his groan!
Faust (Aloud)

4460		Gretchen!  Gretchen!  

Margaret (Listening closely.)

		The voice of my lover!

(She leaps to her feet: the chains fall away.)

		Where?  I heard him call me.
		I’m free!  No one holds me.
		To his neck, I shall fly,
4465		On his breast, I shall lie!  
		He called Gretchen!  Stood at the sill.
		Among the howls and cries of Hell,
		Among the devil’s, scornful groans,
		I knew his sweet, dear tones.

		I’m here!


4470		Here!  O, say it once again!  

(She embraces him.)

		It’s he!  It’s he!  Where now is all the pain?
		Where now the chains, the dungeon’s misery?
		You’re here!  You come to save me.
		I am saved!
4475		Already the street is there again, 
		Where I first saw you plain,
		And the joyful garden,
		Where Martha and I waited, then.
Faust (Struggling to move.)

		Come with me!  Come!

Margaret (Caressing him.)

		O stay,
4480		I’ll gladly stay, if you are with me.  

		If you don’t hurry,
		We’ll pay for this.

		What?  You can no longer kiss?
4485		My dear, so short a time to miss me, 
		And you’ve forgotten how to kiss me?
		Why am I so anxious on your breast?
		When, once, at your words, your gaze,
		With a whole heaven I was blessed,
4490		And you kissed me, enough to suffocate.  
		Kiss me!
		I kiss you: see!
(She embraces him.)

		Oh! How cold and silent,
		Your lips.
4495		Where has your passion 
		Who brought me this?
(She turns away from him.)


		Come!  Follow me!  Darling, be bold!
		I’ll clasp you with a thousand-fold
4500		Warmth: now follow me!  I beg you!  
Margaret (Turning to him.)

		And is it you?  Is it really you?


		It is!  Come, with me!


		You’ll loose the chains,
		And take me to your breast, again.
		How is it you don’t shrink from me?
4505		Do you know, friend, whom you free?  

		Come!  Come!  The night will soon be over.


		I’ve killed my mother,
		I’ve drowned my child.
		Was it not given to you and I?
4510		You too.  - You here!  I scarce believe.  
		Give me your hand!  This is no dream.
		Your dear hand!  – Ah, but it’s damp!
		Wipe it clean!  Why do I think,
		It has blood on.
4515		Ah God!  What have you done?  
		Put your sword away,
		I beg you, please!

		Let past be past I say!
		You’re destroying me!

4520		No you must live on: must do.  
		I’ll describe our graves to you.
		You must begin them
		This very dawn:
		The best one is for my mother,
4525		Then, by her, my brother, 
		Myself, a little further, lay,
		But not too far away!
		And the little one, at my right breast.
		No one else by me will lie!  –
4530		Ah, to nestle at your side, 
		That was a sweet, a darling bliss!
		But no more will I achieve it:
		It’s as if I must force you to it,
		As if you turn aside my kiss:
4535		And yet it’s you, so good, so sweet to see!  

		You know it is, so come with me!


		Out there?


		To Freedom.


		If the grave is there,
		Death waiting, then I come!
4540		From here to everlasting rest, 
		And not a step further would
		You go now?  O Heinrich, if I could!

		You can!  Just will it!  The door is open!


		I dare not: there’s no hope for me then.
4545		What use is flight?  They lie in wait for me.  
		To be forced to beg is a bitter existence,
		And cursed too with an evil conscience!
		To wander among strangers, bitter,
		And even then I’d still be captured!

4550		I’ll stay beside you.  


		Quickly!  Quickly!
		Save my poor baby!
		Away!  Down the ridge,
		Now, by the brook,
4555		Over the bridge, 
		Into the wood,
		Left, where the plank is,
		There, in the pool.
		Seize it now: you!
4560		It’s trying to rise, 
		It’s moving still!
		Save it!  Save it!

		Be sensible!
		Only one step, and then you’re free!

4565		If we were on the mountain, only!  
		There my mother sits, on a stone,
		And oh, the cold, it grips me!
		There my mother sits on a stone,
		And wags her head, so heavy.
4570		No sign, no nod, for me, I’m sure 
		Her sleep’s so long: she’ll wake no more.
		She slept, while we took our pleasure.
		That was such a time to treasure!

		Here all’s useless, speech or prayer:
4575		I’ll take you from this place: I’ll dare.  

		Let me alone!  No, no force!
		Don’t grip me so murderously, oh,
		I’ve done all else to please you so.

		The day breaks!  Dearest!  Dearest!


4580		Day!  Yes, it’s dawn!  The last I’ll see: 
		My wedding day, that was to be!
		Tell no one you’ve been with Gretchen.  Ah, bright glance!
		It’s done with: all in vain!
4585		We two will meet again: 
		But not in the dance.
		The crowd gather, without speech.
		The streets, the square,
		Can’t hold them, there.
4590		The bell tolls, the wand breaks.  
		Now, they seize and tie me!
		I’m dragged already to the block.
		The blade that quivers over me,
		Has quivered before over every neck.
4595		Silent the world, now, as the grave!  

		Oh, would that I’d never seen the light!

Mephistopheles (Appears outside.)

		Away!  Or you’ll be lost, tonight.
		Useless staying and praying!  Chattering!
		The horses are shivering,
4600		The dawn breaks, clear.  

		What rises in the doorway, here?
		Him!  Him!  Send him away!
		Why is he here in this holy place?
		He wants me!

		You will live!


4605		God of Judgement!  To you, myself I give!  

Mephistopheles (To Faust)

		Come!  Now!  Or I leave you both to stew.


		Father, save me!  I belong to you!
		Angels!  In Holy Company,
		Draw round me: guard me!
4610		Heinrich!  For you, I fear.  

		She is judged!

A Voice (From above.)

		She is saved!

Mephistopheles (To Faust.)

		To me, here!

(He vanishes, with Faust.)

A Voice (From within, dying away.)

		Heinrich!  Heinrich!