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    "endpoint": "/api/sources/goethe-works/faust/faust-ii/04-act-i-pleasure-garden-paper-money.json"
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  "work": {
    "slug": "faust-ii",
    "name": "Faust II (1832)"
  },
  "parents": [
    {
      "slug": "goethe-works",
      "name": "Works of Goethe",
      "url": "/sources/goethe-works/"
    },
    {
      "slug": "faust",
      "name": "Faust (Parts I and II)",
      "url": "/sources/faust/"
    }
  ],
  "chapter": {
    "num": 4,
    "slug": "04-act-i-pleasure-garden-paper-money",
    "title": "Act I — Pleasure-Garden (Paper Money)",
    "of": 12,
    "words": 7165,
    "text": "THE MORNING SUN.\n\nThe Emperor, his Court, Gentlemen and Ladies: Faust, MEpuis-\nTOPHELES, becomingly, according to the mode, not showily dressed:\nboth kneel,\n\nFaust.\n\nGRE pardon'st thou the jugglery of flame?\n\nEMPEROR (Zeckoning him to rise).\n\nI wish more exhibitions of the same.\n\nA-sudden stood I in a glowing sphere;\n\nIt almost seemed as if I Pluto were.\n\nThere lay, like night, with little fires besprent,\n\nA rocky bottom. Out of many a vent,\nWhirling, a thousand savage flames ascended,\nTill in a single vault their streamers blended.\nThe tongues even to the highest dome were shot,\nThat ever was, and ever then was not.\n\nThrough the far space of spiral shafts of flame\n\n76 faust.\n\nThe long processions of the people came;\n\nCrowding, till all the circle was o'errun,\n\nThey did me homage, as they 've ever done.\n\nSome from my Court I knew: to speak with candor,\n\nA Prince I seemed o'er many a salamander.\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\n\nThat art thou, Sire! Because each element\n\nFully accepts thy Majesty's intent.\n\nObedient Fire is tested now by thee:\n\nWhere wildest heaving, leap into the Sea,\n\nAnd scarce the pearly floor thy foot shall tread,\n\nA grand rotunda rises o'er thy head:\nThou seest the green, translucent billows swelling,\nWith purple edge, for thy delightful dwelling,\nRound thee, the central point. Walk thou at will,\nThe liquid palaces go with thee still !\n\nThe very walls rejoice in life, disporting\n\nIn arrowy flight, in chasing and consorting:\nSea-marvels crowd around the glory new and fair,\nShoot from all sides, yet none can enter there.\nThere gorgeous dragons, golden-armored, float ;\nThere gapes the shark, thou laughest in his throat.\nHowever much this Court thy pride may please,\n\nAct I.\n\nYet hast thou never seen such throngs as these.\nNor from the loveliest shalt thou long be parted ;\nThe curious Nereids come, the wild, shy-hearted,\nTo thy bright dwelling in the endless waters, —\nTimid and sly as fish the youngest daughters,\nThe elder cunning: Thetis hears the news\n\nAnd will, at once, her second Peleus choose.\n\nThe seat, then, on Olympus high and free —\n\nEMPEROR.\nThe spaces of the air I leave to thee:\n\nOne all too early must ascend that throne.\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\n\nAnd Earth, high Prince! already is thine own.\n\nE/MPEROR.\nWhat fortune brought thee here, for our delights,\nDirectly from the One and Thousand Nights?\nIf thou like Scheherazade art rich in stories,\nMy favor shall insure thee higher glories.\nBe ready always, when your world of day,\n\nAs often haps, disgusts me every way!\n\nLorp Hicu Stewarp (enters hastily).\n\nHighness Serene, I never dared expect\n\n78 Faust.\n\nTo trumpet forth a fortune so select\n\nAs this, supremely blessing me,\n\nWhich I announce with joy to thee:\nReckoning on reckoning 's balanced squarely ;\nThe usurer's claws are blunted rarely ;\n\nI'm from my hellish worry free:\n\nThings can't in Heaven more cheerful be.\n\nGENERAL-IN-CHIEF (follows hastily).\n\nArrears of pay are settled duly,\nThe army is enlisted newly ;\nThe trooper's blood is all alive,\n\nThe landlords and the wenches thrive. .\n\nEMPEROR.\n\nHow breathe your breasts in broader spaces!\nHow cheerful are your furrowed faces!\n\nHow ye advance with nimble speed!\n\nTREASURER (appearing).\n\nAsk these, 't is they have done the deed !\n\nFaust.\n\nIt is the Chancellor's place the matter to present.\n\nAct J. 79\n\nCHANCELLOR (who comes forward slowly).\n\nIn my old days I'm blest, and most content.\nSo hear and see the fortune-freighted leaf #\nWhich has transformed to happiness our grief.\n\n(He reads.)\n\n\"To all to whom this cometh, be it known:\n\nA thousand crowns in worth this note doth own.\nIt to secure, as certain pledge, shall stand\n\nAll buried treasure in the Emperor's land:\n\nAnd 't is decreed, perfecting thus the scheme,\n\nThe treasure, soon as raised, shall this redeem.\"\n\nEMPEROR.\n\nA most enormous cheat —a crime, I fear!\nWho forged the Emperor's sign-manual here?\n\nHas there not been a punishment condign ?\n\nTREASURER.\n\nRemember! Thou the note didst undersign ;\n\nLast night, indeed. Thou stood'st as mighty Pan,\nAnd thus the Chancellor's speech, before thee, ran:\n'Grant to thyself the festal pleasure, then\n\nThe People's good —a few strokes of the pen!\"\nThese didst thou give: they were, ere night retreated,\n\n80 Faust.\n\nBy skilful conjurers thousandfold repeated ;\n\nAnd, that a like advantage all might claim,\n\nWe stamped at once the series with thy name:\nTens, Thirties, Fifties, Hundreds, are prepared.\nThou canst not think how well the folk have fared.\nBehold thy town, half-dead once, and decaying,\nHow all, alive, enjoying life, are straying!\n\nAlthough thy name long since the world made glad,\nSuch currency as now it never had.\n\nNo longer needs the alphabet thy nation,\n\nFor in this sign each findeth his salvation.\n\nEMPEROR.\n\nAnd with my people does it pass for gold?\nFor pay in court and camp, the notes they hold?\nThen I must yield, although the thing 's amazing.\n\nLorp Hicnr STEwarRD.\n\n\"T was scattered everywhere, like wild-fire blazing,\nAs currency, and none its course may stop.\n\nA crowd surrounds each money-changer's shop,\nAnd every note is there accepted duly\n\nFor gold and silver's worth — with discount, truly.\n\nThence is it spread to landlords, butchers, bakers :\n\nAct I. 81\n\nOne half the people feast as pleasure-takers ;\n\nIn raiment new the others proudly go, —\n\nThe tradesmen cut their cloth, the tailors sew. |\nThe crowd \" The Emperor's health!\" in cellars wishes,\n\nMidst cooking, roasting, rattling of the dishes.\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\n\nIf one along the lonely terrace stray,\n\nHe sees the lady, in superb array,\n\nWith brilliant peacock-fan before one eye;\n\nA note she looks for, as she simpers by,\n\nAnd readier than by wit or eloquence\n\nBefore Love's favor falls the last defence.\n\nOne is not plagued his purse or sack to carry;\nSuch notes one lightly in his bosom bears,\n\nOr them with fond epistles neatly pairs:\n\nThe priest devoutly in his breviary\n\nBears his: the soldier would more freely trip,\nAnd lightens thus the girdle round his hip.\nYour Majesty will pardon, if my carriage\nSeems as it might the lofty work disparage.\n\nFaust.\n\nThe overplus of wealth, in torpor bound,\n\n82 Faust.\n\nWhich in thy lands lies buried in the ground,\n\nIs all unused; nor boldest thought can measure\nThe narrowest boundaries of such a treasure.\nImagination, in its highest flight,\n\nExerts itself, but cannot grasp it quite ;\n\nYet minds, that dare explore the secrets soundless, —\n\nIn boundless things possess a faith that 's boundless.\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\n\nSuch paper, stead of gold and jewelry,\n\nSo handy is— one knows one's property :\n\nOne has no need of bargains or exchanges,\n\nBut drinks of love or wine, as fancy ranges.\n\nIf one needs coin, the brokers ready stand,\n\nAnd if it fail, one digs awhile the land.\n\nGoblet and chain one then at auction sells,\n\nAnd paper, liquidated thus, compels\n\nThe shame of doubters and their scornful wit.\nThe people wish naught else; they 're used to it:\nFrom this time forth, your borders, far and wide,\n\nWith jewels, gold, and paper are supplied.\n\nEMPEROR.\n\nYou ve given our empire this prosperity ;\n\nAct T. | 83\n\nThe pay, then, equal to the service be!\n\nThe soil intrusted to your keeping, shall you\n\nThe best custodians be, to guard its value.\n\nYou know the hoards, well-kept, of all the land,\nAnd when men dig, 't is you must give command.\nUnite then now, ye masters of our treasure,\n\nThis, your new dignity, to wear with pleasure,\nAnd bring the Upper World, erewhile asunder,\n\nIn happiest conjunction with the Under !\n\nTREASURER.\nNo further strife shall shake our joint position :\n\nI like to have as partner the magician.\n[Exit with Faust.\nEMPEROR. ~\n\nMan after man, the Court will I endow:\n\nLet each confess for what he 'll spend, and how!\n\nPace (receiving).\n\nI'll lead a jolly life, enjoy good cheer.\n\nA SeEconp (the same).\n\nIll buy at once some trinkets for my dear.\n\nCHAMBERLAIN (accepting).\n\nWines twice as good shall down my throat go trickling. )\n\n84 - faust.\n\nA SEconp (the same).\n\nI feel the dice within my pockets tickling.\n\nKNIGHT BaNnNERET (reflectively).\n\nMy lands and castle shall be free of debt.\n\nANOTHER (the same).\n\nIll add to other wealth the wealth I get.\n\nEMPEROR.\n\nI hoped the gifts to bolder deeds would beckon ;\nBut he who knows you, knows whereon to reckon.\nI see that, spite of all this treasure-burst,\n\nYou stay exactly as you were at first.\n\nFoo. (approaching).\n\nYou scatter favors: grant me also some!\n\nEMPEROR.\n\nThou 'rt come to life? \"T would go at once for rum.\n\nFoot.\n\nThe magic leaves! I don't quite comprehend.\n\nEMPEROR.\n\nThat I believe; for them thou 'It badly spend.\n\nAct I. 85\n\nFoot.\n\nThere others drop: I don't know what to do.\n\nEMPEROR.\n\nJust pick them up! they fall to thy share, too.\n[Lxit.\nFoot.\n\nFive thousand crowns are mine? How unexpected |\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\n\nTwo-leggéd wine-skin, art thou resurrected ?\n\nFoot.\n\nMuch luck I've had, but like this never yet.\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\n\nThou 'rt so rejoiced, it puts thee in a sweat.\n\nFoot.\n\nBut look at this, is 't money's-worth, indeed?\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES\n\n\"T will bring thee what thy throat and belly need.\n\nFoot.\n\nAnd cattle can I buy, and house and land?\n\n86 Faust.\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\n\nOf course! just make an offer once, off-hand!\n\nFoo.'\n\nCastle and wood, and chase, and fishing?\n\nMepuisTopHELes.\nAll!\nId like upon Your Worship then to call,\n\nFoo..\n\nTo-night as landed owner I shall sit.\n[ Exit.\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES (so/us).\n\nWho now will doubt that this our Fool has wit?\n\nAct I, 87\n\nV.\nA GLOOMY GALLERY.\nFaust. MEPHISTOPHELES.\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\n\n\\ \\ JHAT wilt thou with me in this gloomy gallery?\nIs there not still enough of sport —\nThere, in the crowded, motley Court, —\n\nNot chance for tricks, and fun, and raillery?\n\nFaust.\n\nDon't tell me that !— In our old days the fun of it\nDidst thou wear out, and I 'll have none of it.\nThy wandering here and there is planned\n\nJust to evade what I demand.\n\nBut I'm tormented something to obtain ;\n\nThe Marshal drives me, and the Chamberlain.\nThe Emperor orders, he will instantly\n\nHelen and Paris here before him see, —\n\nThe model forms of Man and Woman, wearing,\nDistinctly shown, their ancient shape and bearing.\n\nNow to the work! I dare not break my word.\n\n88 Faust.\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\n\nSo thoughtlessly to promise was absurd.\n\nFaust.\n\nThou hast not, comrade, well reflected\nWhat comes of having used thy powers:\nWe 've made him rich; 't is now expected\n\nThat we amuse his idle hours.\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\n\nThou deem'st the thing is quickly fixed:\n\nHere before steeper ways we 're standing ;\n\nWith strangest spheres wouldst thou be mixed,\n\nAnd, sinful, addest new debts to the old, —\n\nThink'st Helen will respond to thy commanding\n\nAs freely as the paper-ghosts of gold!\n\nWith witches'-riches and with spectre-pictures,\n\nAnd changeling-dwarfs, I 'll give no cause for strictures ;\nBut Devil's-darlings, though you may not scold 'em,\n\nYou cannot quite as heroines behold 'em.\n\nFaust.\n\nThe old hand-organ still I hear thee play !\n\nFrom thee one always gets uncertain sense,\n\nAct I. 89\n\nThe father, thou, of all impediments :\nFor every means thou askest added pay.\nA little muttering, and the thing takes place;\n\nEre one can turn, beside us here her shade is.\n\nMEeEPHISTOPHELES.\nI've no concern with the old heathen race;\nThey house within their special Hades.*3 '\nYet there 's a way.\nFaust.\n\nSpeak, nor delay thy history !\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\nUnwilling, I reveal a loftier mystery. —\nIn solitude are throned the Goddesses,\nNo Space around them, Place and Time still less ;\nOnly to speak of them embarrasses.\n\nThey are Toe MorTuers! \"4\n\nFaust (terrified).\nMothers!\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\n\nHast thou dread ?\n\nFaust.\n\nThe Mothers! Mothers !—a strange word is said.\n\n90 Faust.\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\n\nIt is so. Goddesses, unknown to ye,\n\nThe Mortals, — named by us unwillingly.\n\nDelve in the deepest depths must thou, to reach them :\nT is thine own fault that we for help beseech them.\n\nFaust.\n\nWhere is the way?\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\n\nNo way !— To the Unreachable,\nNe'er to be trodden! A way to the Unbeseechable,\nNever to be besought! Art thou prepared?\nThere are no locks, no latches to be lifted ;\nThrough endless solitudes shalt thou be drifted.\nHast thou through solitudes and deserts fared ?\n\nFaust.\n\nI think 't were best to spare such speeches ;\nThey smell too strongly of the witches,\nOf cheats that long ago insnared.\n\nHave I not known all earthly vanities?\nLearned the inane, and taught inanities?\nWhen as I felt I spake, with sense as guide,\nThe contradiction doubly shrill replied ;\n\nAct I. gI\n\nEnforced by odious tricks, have I not fled\nTo solitudes and wildernesses dread,\n\nAnd that I might not live alone, unheeded,\nMyself at last unto the Devil deeded!\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\n\nAnd hadst thou swum to farthest verge of ocean,\nAnd there the boundless space beheld,\n\nStill hadst thou seen wave after wave in motion,\nEven though impending doom thy fear compelled.\nThou hadst seen something, —in the beryl dim\nOf peace-lulled seas the sportive dolphins swim ;\nHadst seen the flying clouds, sun, moon, and star :\nNaught shalt thou see in endless Void afar, —\nNot hear thy footstep fall, nor meet\n\nA stable spot to rest thy feet.\n\nFaust.\n\nThou speak'st, as of all mystagogues the chief,\nWho e'er brought faithful neophytes to grief ;\nOnly reversed : —I to the Void am sent,\n\nThat Art and Power therein I may augment :\nTo use me like the cat is thy desire,\n\nTo scratch for thee the chestnuts from the fire.\n\n92 | faust.\n\nCome on, then! we'll explore, whate'er befall :\nIn this, thy Nothing, may I find my All!\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\n\nI 'll praise thee, ere we separate: I see\nThou knowest the Devil thoroughly.\nHere, take this key ! 45\n\nFaust.\n\nThat little thing?\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\n\nTake hold of it, not undervaluing |!\n\nFaust.\n\nIt glows, it shines, — increases in my hand!\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\n\nHow much 't is worth, thou soon shalt understand.\nThe Key will scent the true place from all others :\nFollow it down ! —'t will lead thee to the Mothers.\n\nFaust (shuddering).\n\nThe Mothers! Like a blow it strikes me still !\nWhat is the word, to hear which makes me chill ?\n\nAct I. 93\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\n\nArt thou so weak, disturbed by each new word?\nWilt only hear what thou 'st already heard?\nTo wondrous things art thou so used already,\n\nLet naught, howe'er it sound, make thee unsteady !\n\nFaust.\n\nNathless in torpor lies no good for me;\nThe chill of dread is Man's best quality.\nThough from the feeling oft the world may fend us,\n\nDeeply we feel, once smitten, the Tremendous.\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\n\nDescend, then! I could also say: Ascend!\n\n'T were all the same. Escape from the Created\n\nTo shapeless forms in liberated spaces! —\n\nEnjoy what long ere this was dissipated !\n\nThere whirls the press, like clouds on clouds unfolding; .\n\nThen with stretched arm swing high the key thou 'rt\nholding !\n\nFaust (inspired).\n\nGood! grasping firmly, fresher strength I win:\nMy breast expands, let the great work begin!\n\n94 faust.\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\n\nAt last a blazing tripod tells thee this,\n\nThat there the utterly deepest bottom is.\n\nIts light to thee will then the Mothers show,\nSome in their seats, the others stand or go,\n\nAt their own will: Formation, Transformation,\nThe Eternal Mind's eternal recreation,\n\nForms of all creatures, — there are floating free.\nThey 'll see thee not; for only wraiths they see.\nSo pluck up heart, — the danger then is great, —\nGo to the tripod ere thou hesitate,\n\nAnd touch it with the key !\n\n(Faust, with the key, assumes a decidedly commanding attitude.\nMEPHISTOPHELES, observing him.)\n\nSo, that is right!\nIt will adhere, and follow thee to light.\nComposedly mounting, by thy luck upborne,\nBefore they notice it, shalt thou return.\nWhen thou the tripod hither hast conveyed,\nThen call the hero, heroine, from the shade, —\nThe first that ever such a deed perfected :\n*T is done, and thou thereto hast been selected.\nFor instantly, by magic process warmed,\n\nTo gods the incense-mist shall be transformed.\n\nAct I. 95\n\nFaust.\n\nWhat further now ?\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\n\nDownward thy being strain!\n\nStamp and descend, stamping thou 'lt rise again.\n(Faust stamps, and sinks out of sight.)\n\nIf only, by the key, he something learn!\n\nI'm curious to see if he return.\n\n96 faust.\n\nVI.\nBRILLIANTLY LIGHTED HALLS.\nEMPEROR AND Princes. THE Court 1n Movement.\nCHAMBERLAIN ('0 MEPHISTOPHELES).\n\nHE spirit-scene you 've promised, still you owe us ;\n\nOur Lord's impatient ; come, the phantasm show us!\n\nLorp Hicu Srewarp.\n\nJust now His Gracious Self did question me:\n\nDelay not, nor offend His Majesty !\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\n\nMy comrade's gone to set the work in motion ;\nHow to begin, he has the proper notion.\n\nIn secret he the charms must cull,\n\nMust labor with a fervor tragic :\n\nWho would that treasure lift, the Beautiful,\nRequires the highest Art, the sage's Magic.\n\nAct I. 97\n\nLorp Hicu STEwarRD.\n\nWhat arts you need, is all the same to me;\n\nThe Emperor wills that you should ready be.\n\nA Buionpe (to MEPHISTOPHELES).\n\nOne word, Sir! Here you see a visage fair, —\n\nIn sorry summer I another wear !\n\nThere sprout a hundred brown and reddish freckles,\nAnd vex my lily skin with ugly speckles.\n\nA cure!\n\nMeEPpHISTOPHELES.\n\"T is pity! Shining fair, yet smitten, —\nSpotted, when May comes, like a panther-kitten !\nTake frog-spawn, tongues of toads, which cohobate,\nUnder the full moon deftly distillate;\nAnd, when it wanes, apply the mixture:\n\nNext spring, the spots will be no more a fixture.\n\nA BRUNETTE.\n\nTo sponge upon you, what a crowd's advancing !\nI beg a remedy : a frozen foot\nAnnoys me much, in walking as in dancing ;\nAnd awkwardly I manage to salute.\n\n98 Faust.\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\n\nA gentle kick permit, then, from my foot ! 48\n\nTHE BRUNETTE.\n\nWell, —that might happen, when the two are lovers.\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\n\nMy kick a more important meaning covers :\nSimtlia similibus, when one is sick.\nThe foot cures foot, each limb its hurt can palliate ;\n\nCome near! Take heed! and, pray you, don't retaliate !\n\nTue Brunette (screaming).\n\nOh! oh! it stings! That was a fearful kick,\nLike hoof of horse.\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\n\nBut it has cured you, quick.\nTo dance whene'er you please, you now are able;\n\nTo press your lover's foot, beneath the table.\n\nLapy (pressing forwards).\n\nMake room for me! 'Too great is my affliction,\n\nMy tortures worse than those described in fiction :\n\nAct 1. 99\n\nHis bliss, till yesterday, was in my glances,\nBut now he turns his back, and spins with her romances !\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\n\nThe matter 's grave, but listen unto me!\n\nDraw near to him with gentle, soft advances ;\n\nThen take this coal and mark him stealthily\n\nOn mantle, shoulder, sleeve, — though ne'er so slight,\nYet penitent at once his heart will be.\n\nThe coal thereafter you must straightway swallow,\nAnd let no sip of wine or water follow :\n\nHe 'll sigh before your door this very night.\n\nTue Lapy.\nIt is not poison, sure?\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES (offended),\n\nRespect, where it is due!\nTo get such coals, you 'd travel many a mile:\nThey 're from the embers of a funeral pile,\n\nThe fires whereof we once more hotly blew.\n\n- PaGE.\n\nI love, yet still am counted adolescent.\n\n100 faust.\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES (aside).\nI know not whom to listen to, at present.\n(To the Page.)\n\nLet not the younger girls thy fancies fetter ;\n\nThose well in years know how to prize thee better. —\n(Others crowd around him.)\n\nAlready others? °'T is a trial, sooth!\n\nI'll help myself, at last, with naked truth —\nThe worst device ! — so great my misery.\n\nO Mothers! Mothers! let but Faust go free!\n\n(Gazing around him.)\nThe lights are burning dimly in the hall,\n\nThe Court is moving onward, one and all:\n\nI see them march, according to degrees,\n\nThrough long arcades and distant galleries.\n\nNow they assemble in the ample space\n\nOf the Knights' Hall; yet hardly all find place.\nThe breadth of walls is hung with arras rich,\nAnd armor gleams from every nook and niche.\nHere, I should think, there needs no magic word:\n\nThe ghosts will come, and of their own accord.\n\nAct I. IOI\n\nVII.\nHALL OF THE KNIGHTS, DIMLY LIGHTED.\n(The Emperor and Court have entered.)\n\nHERALD. 47\n\nINE ancient office, to proclaim the action,\nIs by the spirits' secret influence thwarted :\n\nOne tries in vain; such wildering distraction\nCan't be explained, or reasonably reported.\nThe chairs are ranged, the seats are ready all:\nThe Emperor sits, fronting the lofty wall,\nWhere on the tapestry the battles he\nOf the great era may with comfort see.\nHere now are all — Prince, Court, and their belonging,\nBenches on benches in the background thronging ;\nAnd lovers, too, in these dim hours enchanted,\nBeside their loved ones lovingly are planted.\nAnd now, since all have found convenient places,\n\nWe're ready: let the spirits show their faces!\n\nTrumpets.\n\n102 faust\n\nASTROLOGER.\n\nBegin the Drama! 'T is the Sire's command:\nYe walls, be severed straightway, and expand!\nNaught hinders ; magic answers our desire:\nThe arras flies, as shrivelled up by fire ;\n\nThe walls are split, unfolded: in the gloom\n\nA theatre appears to be created :\n\nBy mystic light are we illuminated,\n\nAnd I ascend to the proscenium.\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES\n(rising to view in the prompter's box).\nI hope to win, as prompter, general glory ;\nFor prompting is the Devil's oratory.\n(To the Astrologer.)\n\nThou know'st the tune and time the stars that lead ;\n\nThou wilt my whispers like a master heed.\n\nASTROLOGER.\n\nBy power miraculous, we here behold\nA massive temple of the days of old.\nLike Atlas, who erewhile the heavens upbore,\n\nThe serried columns stand, an ample store :\n\nAct J. 103\n\nWell may they for the weight of stone suffice,\nSince two might bear a mighty edifice.\n\nARCHITECT. 48\n\nThat the antique? As fine it can't be rated ;\nId sooner style it awkward, over-weighted.\nCoarse is called noble, and unwieldy, grand:\nGive me the slender shafts that soar, expand!\nTo lift the mind, a pointed arch may boast ;\n\nSuch architecture edifies us most.\n\nASTROLOGER.\n\nReceive with reverence the star-granted hours;\nLet magic words bind Reason's restless powers,\nBut in retufn unbind, to circle free,\n\nThe wings of splendid, daring Phantasy !\n\nWhat you have boldly wished, see now achieved !\nImpossible 't is — therefore to be believed.\n\n(Faust rises to view on the other side of the proscenium.)\n\nIn priestly surplice, crowned, a marvellous man,\nHe now fulfils what he in faith began.\n\nWith hin, a tripod from the gulf comes up:\n\nI scent the incense-odors from the cup.\n\nHe arms himself, the work to consecrate,\n\nAnd henceforth it can be but fortunate.\n\n104 | faust.\n\nFaust (sublimely).\n\nYe Mothers, in your name, who set your throne\nIn boundless Space, eternally alone,\n\nAnd yet companioned! All the forms of Being,\n_In movement, lifeless, ye are round you seeing.\nWhate'er once was, there burns and brightens free\nIn splendor — for 't would fain eternal be ; 49\nAnd ye allot it, with all-potent might,\n\nTo Day's pavilions and the vaults of Night.\n\nLife seizes some, along his gracious course ;\nOthers arrests the bold Magician's force ;\n\nAnd he, bestowing as his faith inspires,\n\nDisplays the Marvellous, that each desires.\n\nASTROLOGER.\n\nThe glowing key has scarcely touched the cup,\nAnd lo! through all the space, a mist rolls up :\nIt creeps about, and like a cloudy train;\nSpreads, rounding, narrowing, parting, closed again.\nAnd now, behold a spirit-masterpiece !\nMusic is born from every wandering fleece.\nThe tones of air, I know not how they flow;\nWhere'er they move all things melodious grow.\n\nThe pillared shaft, the triglyph even rings:\n\nAct I. 105\n\nI think, indeed, the whole bright temple sings.\nThe vapors settle ; as the light film clears,\n\nA beauteous youth, with rhythmic step, appears.\nHere ends my task ; his name I need not tell:\n\nWho doth not know the gentle Paris well ? 5°\n\nLapy.\n\nO, what a youthful bloom and strength I see!\n\nA SEcoND.\n\nFresh as a peach, and full of juice, is he!\n\nA THIRp.\nThe finely drawn, the sweetly swelling lip!\n\n: A Fourtn.\n\nFrom such a cup, no doubt, you'd like to sip?\n\nA Firru.\n\nHe's handsome, if a little unrefined.\n\nA SIxtTu.\n\nHe might be somewhat gracefuller, to my mind.\n\nKNIGHT.\nThe shepherd I detect ; I find him wearing\nNo traces of the Prince, or courtly bearing.\n\n106 Faust.\n\nANOTHER.\n\nO, yes! half-naked is the youth not bad;\n\nBut let us see him first in armor clad!\n\nLapy.\n\nHe seats himself, with such a gentle grace!\n\nKNIGHT.\n\nYou 'd find his lap, perchance, a pleasant place?\n\nANOTHER.\n\nHe lifts his arm so lightly o'er his head.\n\nCHAMBERLAIN. *\n\n\"T is not allowed: how thoroughly ill-bred !\n\nLapy.\n\nYou lords find fault with all things evermore.\n\nCHAMBERLAIN.\n\nTo stretch and yawn before the Emperor!\n\nLapy.\n\nHe only acts: he thinks he's quite alone.\n\n¥\n#\n\n}\n\nAct Jf, 107\n\nCHAMBERLAIN.\n\nEven the play should be politely shown.\n\nLapy.\n\nNow sleep falls on the graceful youth so sweetly.\n\nCHAMBERLAIN.\n\nNow will he snore: 't is natural, completely !\n\nYounc Lapy.\n\nMixed with the incense-steam, what odor precious\n\nSteals to my bosom, and my heart refreshes?\n\nOper Lavy.\nForsooth, it penetrates and warms the feeling!\nIt comes from him.\n\nOxpest Lapy.\n\nHis flower of youth, unsealing,\nIt is: Youth's fine ambrosia, ripe, unfading,\n\nThe atmosphere around his form pervading.\n\n(Helena comes forward.)\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\n\nSo, that is she? My sleep she would not waste:\n\n'Shee pretty, truly, but she's not my taste.\na\"\n\na\n\n108 faust.\n\nASTROLOGER.\nThere 's nothing more for me to do, I trow;\nAs man of honor, I confess it now.\nThe Beauty comes, and had I tongues of fire, —\nSo many songs did Beauty e'er inspire, —\nWho sees her, of his wits is dispossessed,\n\nAnd who possessed her was too highly blessed.\n\nFaust.\nHave I still eyes? Deep in my being springs\nThe fount of Beauty, in a torrent pouring!\nA heavenly gain my path of terror brings.\nThe world was void, and shut to my exploring, —\nAnd, since my priesthood, how hath it been graced!\nEnduring 't is, desirable, firm-based.\nAnd let my breath of being blow to waste,\nIf I for thee unlearn my sacred duty!\nThe form, that long erewhile my fancy captured,\"\nThat from the magic mirror so enraptured,\nWas but a frothy phantom of such beauty!\n°T is Thou, to whom the stir of all my forces,\nThe essence of my passion's courses, —\n\nLove, fancy, worship, madness, — here I render!\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES ( from the box).\n\nBe calm !— you lose your role, to be so tender !\n\nAct lL © 109\n\nOLpER Lapy.\n\nTall and well-formed! Too small the head, alone.\n\nYouncER Lapy.\n\nJust see her foot! A heavier ne'er was shown.\n\nDIPLOMATIST.\n\nPrincesses of her style I've often seen:\n\nFrom head to foot she's beautiful, I ween.\n\nCourTIER.\n\nShe near the sleeper steals, so soft and sly.\n\nLapy.\n\nHow ugly, near that youthful purity !\n\nPoet.\n\nHer beauty's light is on him like a dawn.\n\nLapy.\n\nEndymion and Luna—as they're drawn!\n\nPoet.\n\nQuite right! The yielding goddess seems to sink,\n\n1IO faust.\n\nAnd o'er him bend, his balmy breath to drink.\nEnviable fate —a kiss !— the cup is full!\n\nDvuENNA.\n\nBefore all people !—that is more than cool.\n\nFaust.\n\nA fearful favor to the boy!\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\n\nBe still!\nSuffer the shade to do whate'er it will !\n\nCourRTIER.\n\nShe slips away, light-footed: he awakes.\n\nLapy.\n\nJust as I thought! Another look she takes.\n\nCourtTIER.\n\nHe stares: what haps, to him a marvel is.\n\nLapy.\n\nBut none to her, what she before her sees!\n\nAct J,\n\nCourTIER.\n\nShe turns around to him with dignity.\n\nLapy.\nI see, she means to put him through his paces:\n\nAll men, in such a case, act stupidly.\n\nThen, too, he thinks that first he's won her graces.\n\nKNIGHT.\n\nMajestically fine !— She pleases me.\n\nLapy.\n\nThe courtesan! How very vulgar she!\n\nPacE.\n\nJust where he is, is where I'd like to be!\n\nCouRrTIER.\n\nWho would not fain be caught in such sweet meshes?\n\nLapy.\n\nThrough many a hand hath passed that jewel precious;\n\nThe gilding, too, is for the most part gone.\n\nANOTHER.\n\nShe has been worthless from her tenth year on:\n\n112 Faust.\n\nKNIGHT.\n\nEach takes the best that chance for him obtains ;\n\nI 'd be contented with these fair remains.\n\nA Learnep Man.\n\nI freely own, though I distinctly see, ©\n\n*T is doubtful if the genuine one she be.\n\nThe Present leads us to exaggeration,\n\nAnd I hold fast the written, old relation.\n\nI read that, truly, ere her bloom was blighted,\nThe Trojan gray-beards greatly she delighted.\nAnd here, methinks, it tallies perfectly :\n\nI am not young, yet she delighteth me.\n\nASTROLOGER.\n\nNo more a boy! A bold, heroic form,\n\nHe clasps her, who can scarce resist the storm.\nWith arm grown strong he lifts her high and free:\nMeans he to bear her off ?\n\nFaust.\n\nRash fool, let be!\nThou dar'st? Thou hear'st not? Hold! —I'll be obeyed.\n\nAct TI. 113\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\n\nThe spectral drama thou thyself hast made!\n\nASTROLOGER.\n\nA word more! After all we 've seen to-day,\n\nI call the piece: The Rape of Helcna.?\n\nFaust.\nWhat! Rape? Am] for nothing here? To stead me,\nIs not this key still shining in my hand?\nThrough realms of terror, wastes, and waves it led me,\nThrough solitudes, to where I firmly stand.\nHere foothold is! Realities here centre!\nThe strife with spirits here the mind may venture,\nAnd on its grand, its double lordship enter ! |\nHow far she was, and nearer, how divine!\nI'l] rescue her, and make her doubly mine.\nYe Mothers! Mothers! crown this wild endeavor !\n\nWho knows her once must hold her, and forever !\n\nASTROLOGER.\nWhat art thou doing, Faust? O, look at him!\nHe seizes her: the form is growing dim.\nHe turns the key against the youth, and, Jo!\nIt touches him — Woe's me! Away now! Woe on woe!\n\n14 faust.\n\n(Explosion. Faust lies upon the earth. The Spirits dissolve in vapor.)\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES\n(taking Faust upon his shoulders).\n\nYou have it now! One's self with fools to hamper,\n\nAt last even on the Devil puts a damper.\n\nDarkness. Tumult,\n\nAct 11, 115\n\nA HIGH-ARCHED, NARROW, GOTHIC CHAMBER, FOR-\nMERLY FAUST'S, UNCHANGED.\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES\n(coming forth from behind a curtain53 While he holds it up and\nlooks behind him, Faust is seen lying stretched out upon an antt-\nquated bed).\nIE there, ill-starred! seduced, unwise,\nTo bonds that surely hold the lover!\nWhom Helena shall paralyze\n\nNot soon his reason will recover.\n\n(Looking around him.)\n\nI look about, and through the glimmer\nUnchanged, uninjured, all appears :\n\nThe colored window-panes, methinks, are dimmer,\nThe cobwebs have increased with years.\n\nThe ink is dry, the paper old and brown,\n\nBut each thing in its place I find:\n\n116 Faust\n\nEven the quill is here laid down,\n\nWherewith his compact with the Devil he signed.\nYea, deeper in, the barrel 's red\n\nWith trace of blood I coaxed him then to shed.\nA thing so totally unique\n\nThe great collectors would go far to seek.\n\nHalf from its hook the old fur-robe is falling,\nThat ancient joke of mine recalling,\n\nHow once I taught the boy such truth\n\nAs still, it may be, nourishes the youth.\n\nThe wish returns, with zest acuter,\n\nAided by thee, thou rough disguise,\n\nOnce more to take on airs as college tutor, _\n\nAs one infallible in one's own eyes.\n\nThe savans this assurance know:\n\nThe Devil lost it, long ago!\n\n(He shakes the fur which he has taken down: moths, crickets, and\nbeetles fly out.)\n\nCuorus oF INSECTS.\n\nWelcome, and hail to thee!\nPatron, to-day :\n\nWe're flying and humming,\nWe hear and obey.\n\nAct LI, 117\n\nSingly and silently\n\nUs thou hast sown;\nHither, by thousands,\nFather, we 've flown. .\nThe imp in the bosom\nIs snugly concealed ;\nBut lice in the fur-coat\n\nAre sooner revealed.\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\n\nWhat glad surprise I feel, from this young life bestowed !\nOne reaps in time, if one has only sowed.\nOnce more I']] shake the ancient fleeces out:\nStill here and there a chance one flies about. —\nOff, and around! in hundred thousand nooks\nHasten to hide yourselves — among the books,\nThere, in the pasteboard's wormy holes,\nHere, in the smoky parchment scrolls,\nIn dusty jars, that broken lie,\nAnd yonder skull with empty eye.\nIn all this trash and mould unmatched,\nCrotchets forever must be hatched.%4\n\n(He puts on the fur-mantle.)\n\nCome, once again upon my shoulders fall!\n\n118 Faust.\n\nOnce more am I the Principal.\nBut 't is no good to ape the college;\nFor where are those who will my claim acknowledge?\n\n(He pulls the bell, which gives out a shrill, penetrating sound, causing\nthe halls to tremble and the doors to fly open.)\n\nFAaMuLus\n\n*s (tottering hither down the long, dark gallery).\nWhat a sound! What dreadful quaking!\nStairs are rocking, walls are shaking ;\nThrough the colored windows brightening\nI behold the sudden lightning ;\nFloors above me crack and rumble,\nLime and lumber round me tumble,\nAnd the door, securely bolted,\nIs by magic force unfolded. —\nThere! How terrible! a Giant\nStands in Faust's old fur, defiant !\nAs he looks, and beckons thither,\nI could fall, my senses wither.\nShall I fly, or shall I wait?\nWhat, O what shall be my fate!\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES (Jeckoning ).\n\nCome hither, Friend! Your name is Nicodemus.\n\nAct Ll,\n\nFaMULUS.,\n\nMost honored Sir, such is my name — Oremus !-\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\nDispense with that!\nFaMULUS.\n\nO joy! you know me yet.\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\n\nOld, and a student still, —I don't forget,\n\nMost mossy Sir! Also a learned man\nContinues study, since naught else he can.\n\n'T is thus one builds a moderate house of cards;\nThe greatest minds ne'er end them, afterwards.\nYour master is a skilful fellow, though:\n\nThe noble Doctor Wagner all must know.\n\nThe first in all the learned world is he,\n\nWho now together holds it potently,\n\nWisdom increasing, daily making clearer.\n\nHow thirst for knowledge listener and hearer! .\nA mighty crowd around him flocks,\n\nNone for the rostrum e'er were meeter :\n\nThe keys he holds as doth Saint Peter,\n\nThe Under and the Upper. he unlocks.\n\n120 faust.\n\nHis light above all others sparkles surer,\nNo name or fame beside him lives :\nEven that of Faust has grown obscurer ;\n\n*T is he alone invents and gives.\n\nFAMULUS.\n\nPardon, most honored Sir! if I am daring\n\nTo contradict you, in declaring\n\nAll that upon the subject has no bearing ;\n\nFor modesty is his allotted part.\n\nThe incomprehensible disappearing\n\nOf that great man to him is most uncheering ;\nFrom his return he hopes new strength and joy of heart.\nAs in the days of Doctor Faust, the room,\nSince he's away, all things unchanged,\n\nWaits for its master, long estranged. .\n\nTo venture in, I scarce presume. —\n\nWhat stars must govern now the skies!\n\nIt seemed as if the basements quivered ;\n\nThe door-posts trembled, bolts were shivered :\n\nYou had not entered, otherwise.\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\n\nWhere may his present dwelling be?\n\nLead me to him! Bring him to me!\n\nAct I. I21\n\nFAMULUS.\nHis prohibition is so keen!\nI do not dare to intervene.\nFor months, his time unto the great work giving,\nIn most secluded silence he is living.\nThe daintiest of distinguished learners,\nHis face is like a charcoal-burner's,\nFrom nose to ears all black and deadened ;\nHis eyes from blowing flames are reddened :\nThus he, each moment, pants and longs,\n\nAnd music make the clattering tongs.\n\nM EPHISTOPHELES.\nAn entrance why should he deny me?\nI 'll expedite his luck, if he'll but try me!\n(The Famuctus goes off: MeEpHISTOPHELES Seats himself with\ngravity.)\nScarce have I taken my position here,\nWhen there, behind, I see a guest appear.\nI know him; he is of the school new-founded,\n\nAnd his presumption will be quite unbounded.\n\nBaccaLauREus55 (storming along the corridor).\n\nDoors and entrances are open!\n\nWell, —at last there 's ground for hoping\n\nI22\n\nFaust.\n\nThat no more, in mouldy lumber,\nDeath-like, doth the Living slumber,\nTo himself privations giving,\n\nTill he dies of very living!\n\nAll this masonry, I'm thinking,\n\nTo its overthrow is sinking ;\n\nAnd, unless at once we hurry,\n\nUs will crash and ruin bury.\n\nDaring though I be, 't were murther\nShould I dare to venture further.\n\nWhat is that I see before me?\n\nHere, (what years have since rolled o'er me!)\nShy and unsophisticated,\n\nI as honest freshman waited :\n\nHere I let the gray-beards guide me,\n\nHere their babble edified me! -\n\nOut of dry old volumes preaching,\n\nWhat they knew, they lied in teaching ;\nWhat they knew, themselves believed not,\nStealing life, that years retrieved not.\nWhat !—in yonder cell benighted\n\nOne still sits, obscurely lighted!\n\nAct I.\n\nNearer now, I see, astounded,\n\nStill he sits, with furs surrounded, —\nTruly, as I saw him last,\n\nRoughest fleeces round him cast !\nThen adroit he seemed to be,\n\nNot yet understood by me:\n\nBut to-day 't will naught avail him —\n\nO, I'll neither fear nor fail him!\n\nIf, ancient Sir, that bald head, sidewards bending,\nHath not been dipped in Lethe's river cold,\n\nSee, hitherward, your grateful scholar wending,\nOutgrown the academic rods of old.\n\nYou 're here, as then when I began;\n\nBut J am now another man.\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\nI'm glad my bell your visit brought me.\nYour talents, then, I rated high;\nThe worm, the chrysalid soon taught me\nThe future brilliant butterfly.\n\nYour curly locks and ruffle-laces\n\nA childish pleasure gave; you wooed the graces. _\n\nA queue, I think, you 've never worn?\n\nBut now your head is cropped and shorn.\n\n124 Faust.\n\nQuite bold and resolute you appear. 7\n\nBut don't go, absolute, home from here! 56\n\nBACCALAUREUS.\n\nOld master, in your old place leaning,\nThink how the time has sped, the while!\nSpare me your words of double meaning!\nWe take them now in quite another style.\nYou teased and vexed the honest youth;\nYou found it easy then, in truth,\n\nTo do what no one dares, to-day.\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\nIf to the young the simple truth we say,\nThe green ones find it nowise pleasant play ;\nBut afterwards, when years are over,\nAnd they the truth through their own hide discover,\nThen they conceive, themselves have found it out:\n\n'\"'The master was a fool!\"' one hears them shout.\n\nBaccALAUREUS.\n\nA rogue, perhaps! What teacher will declare\nThe truth to us, exactly fair and square?\nEach knows the way to lessen or exceed it,\n\nNow stern, now lively, as the children need it.\n\nAct Ll. 125\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\n\nBeyond a doubt, there is a time to learn;\nBut you are skilled to teach, I now discern.\nSince many a moon, some circles of the sun,\n\nThe riches of experience you have won.\n\nBaccALAUREUS.\n\nExperience! mist and froth alone!\nNor with the mind at all coequal :\nConfess, what one has always known\n\nIs not worth knowing, in the sequel !\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES (after a pause).\n\nIt's long seemed so to me. I was a fool:\n\nMy shallowness I now must ridicule.\n\nBaccaLAUREUS.\n\nI'm glad of that! I hear some reason yet —\n\nThe first old man of sense I ever met!\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\n\nI sought for hidden treasures, grand and golden,\n\nAnd hideous coals and ashes were my share.\n\n126 Faust ;\n\nBaccaLAuUREUS,\n\nConfess that now your skull, though bald and olden,\n\nIs worth no more than is yon empty, there!\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES (amiably).\n\nKnow'st thou, my friend, how rude thou art to me?\n\nBaAcCALAUREUS.\n\nOne lies, in German, would one courteous be.\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES\n(wheeling his chair still nearer to the proscenium, to the spectators).\n\nUp here am I deprived of light and air:\nShall I find shelter down among you there?\n\nBaccALAUREUS.\n\nIt is presumptuous, that one will try\n\nStill to be something, when the time's gone by.\n\nMan's life lives in his blood, and where, in sooth,\n\nSo stirs the blood as in the veins of youth?\n\nThere living blood in freshest power pulsates,\n\nAnd newer life from its own life creates.\n\nThen something's done, then moves and works the man ;\n\nThe weak fall out, the sturdy take the van.\n\nAct £1. 127\n\nWhile half the world beneath our yoke is brought,\n'What, then, have youaccomplished? Nodded — thought —\nDreamed, and considered — plan, and always plan!\n\nAge is an ague-fever, it is clear,\n\n-With chills of moody want and dread ;\n\nWhen one has passed his thirtieth year,\n\nOne then is just the same as dead.'\"\n\n'T were best, betimes, to put you out o' the way.\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\n\nThe Devil, here, has nothing more to say.\n\nBACCALAUREUS.\n\nSave through my will, no Devil can there be.\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES (aside).\n\nThe Devil, though, will trip thee presently !\n\nBaccALAUREUS.\n\nThis is Youth's noblest calling and most fit!\nThe world was not, ere I created it;\n\nThe sun I drew from out the orient sea;\n\nThe moon began her changeful course with me;\n\nThe Day put on his shining robes, to greet me;\n\n128 Faust.\n\nThe Earth grew green, and burst in flower to meet me,\nAnd when I beckoned, from the primal night\nThe stars unveiled their splendors to my sight.\nWho, save myself, to you deliverance brought\nFrom commonplaces of restricted thought?\nI, proud and free, even as dictates my mind,\nFollow with joy the inward light I find,\nAnd speed along, in mine own ecstasy,\nDarkness behind, the Glory leading me!\n[ Exit.\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\nGo hence, magnificent Original ! —\nWhat grief on thee would insight cast !\nWho can think wise or stupid things at all,\nThat were not thought already in the Past ?5°\nYet even from him we're not in special peril ;\nHe will, erelong, to other thoughts incline:\nThe must may foam absurdly in the barrel,\n\nNathless it turns at last to wine.\n(To the younger parterre, which does not applaud.)\n\nMy words, I see, have left you cold;\nFor you, my children, it may fall so:\nConsider now, the Devil's old;\n\nTo understand him, be old also!\n\nAct Lf. 129\n\nTI.\nLABORATORY.",
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