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  "work": {
    "slug": "faust-ii",
    "name": "Faust II (1832)"
  },
  "parents": [
    {
      "slug": "goethe-works",
      "name": "Works of Goethe",
      "url": "/sources/goethe-works/"
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    {
      "slug": "faust",
      "name": "Faust (Parts I and II)",
      "url": "/sources/faust/"
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  "chapter": {
    "num": 6,
    "slug": "06-act-ii-classical-walpurgis-night",
    "title": "Act II — Classical Walpurgis-Night",
    "of": 12,
    "words": 7636,
    "text": "THE PHARSALIAN FIELDS.\n\nDarkness.\n\nf\nEnicutao, 0 ey Se )\n\nO this night's awful festival, as oft before,\nI enter here, Erichtho, I, the gloomy one:\n\nNot so atrocious as the evil poets draw,\nIn most superfluous slander — for they never cease\nTheir blame or praises . . . Over-whitened I behold\nThe vale, with waves of tents that glimmer gray afar,\nThe after-vision of that fatal, fearful night.\nHow oft is it repeated ! — will forever be\nForever re-enacted! No one grants the realm\nUnto another: unto him whose might achieved\nAnd rules it, none: for each, incompetent to rule\nHis own internal self, is all too fain to sway |\nHis neighbor's will, even as his haughty mind inclines.\n\nBut here a lesson grand was battled to the end,\n\n142 ——— Faust.\n\nHow force resists and grapples with the greater force,\nThe lovely, thousand-blossomed wreath of Freedom rends,\nAnd bends the stubborn laurel round the Ruler's brow.\nHere, of his days of early greatness Pompey dreamed :\nBefore the trembling balance Caesar yonder watched !\n\nIt will be weighed: the world knows unto whom it turned.\nThe watch-fires flash and glow, spendthrift of ruddy flame;\nReflections of the squandered blood the earth exhales,\nAnd, lured by rare and marvellous splendor of the night,\nThe legion of Hellenic legends gathers here.\n\nRound all the fires uncertain hover, or at ease\n\nSit near them, fabulous forms of ancient days. ...\n\nThe moon, imperfect, truly, but of clearest beam,\n\nArises, scattering mellow radiance everywhere:\n\nVanish the phantom tents, the fires are burning blue.\n\nBut o'er my head what unexpected meteor!\nIt shines, illuminates the sphere of earth below.\nI scent the Living! therefore it becomes me not\nThem to approach, I being harmful unto them:\nAn evil name it brings me, and it profits naught.\nAlready now it sinks: discreetly I withdraw.\n[ Exit.\n\nThe Airy Travellers above.\n\n'Act 1. 143\n\nHomuncuLus.\nOnce again the circle follow,\nO'er the flames and horrors hover!\nGhostly 't is in vale and hollow,\n\nSpectral all that we discover.\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\nIf, as through my window nightly\nIn the grewsome North, I see\nSpectres hideous and unsightly,\n\nHere is home, as there, to me.\n\nHomuncu_us.\nSee! a tall one there is striding\n\nOn before us, in the shade.\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\n\nThrough the air she saw us gliding,\n\nAnd it seems she is afraid.\n\nHomuncuLtuvs.\n\nLet her stride! The knight be taken\nNow, and set upon the strand :\n\nHere to life again he ll waken,\nSeeking it in fable-land.\n\n144 Faust. °\n\nFaust (as he touches the earth),\nWhere is she? —\nHomuncuLuvs.\nIt's more than we can tell,\nBut to inquire would here be well.\nThou 'rt free to hasten, ere the day,\nFrom flame to flame, and seek her so:\nWho to the Mothers found his way,\n\nHas nothing more to undergo.\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\nI also claim my share in the excursion ;\nYet know no better plan for our diversion,\nThan that each one, amid these fires,\nShould seek such fortunes as he most desires.\nThen, as a sign to reunite us,\n\nLet, little one, thy lantern sound and light us!\n\nHomuncu_us.\nThus shall it shine, and thus shall ring!\n(The glass shines and rings powerfully.)\n\nAnd now, away to many a marvellous thing!\n\nFaust (solus).\n\nWhere is she ? — But no further question make!\n\nAct Ll. 145\n\nIf this were not the soil that bore her feet,\n\nIf not the wave that to her coming beat,\n\nYet 't is the air that knows the tongue she spake.\nHere, by a marvel! Here, on Grecian land !°5\n\nI felt at once the earth whereon I stand.\nThrough me, the sleeper, fresher spirit stealing,\nI rise refreshed, Antzus in my feeling.\n\nTogether here I find the strangest store ;\n\nLet me this labyrinth of flames explore.\n[ Goes away.\n\n=\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES ( prying around).\n\nAnd as among these fires I wander, aimless,\n\nI find myself so strange, so disconcerted : ©\n\nQuite naked most, a few are only shirted ;\n\nThe Griffins insolent, the Sphinxes shameless,\n\nAnd what not all, with pinions and with tresses,\n\nBefore, behind, upon one's eyesight presses ! —\n\nIndecency, *t is true, is our ideal,\n\nBut the Antique is too alive and real ;\n\nOne must with modern thought the thing bemaster,\n\nAnd in the fashion variously o'erplaster : —\n\nDisgusting race! Yet I, perforce, must meet them,\n\nAnd as new guest with due decorum greet them. —\n\nHail, then, Fair Ladies! Graybeards wise, good cheer!\n\n146 Faust.\n\nGriFFIN (snarling).\nNot graybeards! Graybeards? No one likes to hear\nOne call him gray. For in each word there rings\nThe source, wherefrom its derivation springs.®\nGray, growling, grewsome, grinning, graves, and grimly,\nEtymologically accord, nor dimly,\n\nAnd make us grim.\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\nAnd yet, why need you stiffen?\nYou like the grif in your proud title, \" Griffin.\"\n\nGRIFFIN\n(as above, and continuously so).\nOf course! for this relation is found fit:\nThough often censured, oftener praised was it.\nLet one but grip at maidens, crowns, and gold:\n\nFortune is gracious to the Griper bold.\n\nANTS\n(of the colossal kind).\nYou speak of gold, much had ourselves collected ;\nIn rocks and caverns secretly we trapped it:\nThe Arimaspean race our store detected, —\n\nThey 're laughing now, so far away they 've snapped it.\n\nAct LI. 147\n\nTHE GRIFFINS.\n\nWe soon shall force them to confess,\n\nTue Armmaspeans.\nBut not in this free night of jubilee.\nBefore the morrow, all will squandered be;\n\nThis time our efforts will obtain success.\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES\n(who has seated himself between the SPHINXES).\nHow soon I feel familiar here, among you!\n\nI understand you, one and all.\n\nSPHINX.\nOur spirit-tones, when we have sung you,\n\nBecome, for you, material. |\nNow name thyself, till we shall know thee better .\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\nWith many names would men my nature fetter.\nAre Britons here? So round the world they wheel,\nTo stare at battle-fields, historic traces,\nCascades, old walls, and classic dreary places ;\nAnd here were something worthy of their zeal.\nTheir Old Plays also testify of me;\nMen saw me there as \" Old Iniquity.\"\n\n148 Faust.\n\nSPHINX.\n\nHow did they hit on that?\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\n\nI know not, verily.\n\nSPHINX.\nPerhaps ! Hast thou in star-lore any power?\n\nWhat say'st thou of the aspects of the hour?\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES (looking up).\nStar shoots on star, the cloven moon doth ride\nIn brilliance; in this place I'm satisfied :\nI warm myself against thy lion's hide.\nIt were a loss to rise from out these shades : —\n\nPropose enigmas, or at least charades !\n\nSPHINX.\nExpress thyself, and 't will a riddle be.\nTry. once thine own analysis: *t were merry.\n\"To both Devout and Wicked necessary :\nTo those, a breast- plate for ascetic fighting ;\nTo these, boon-comrade, in their pranks uniting ;\n\nAnd both amusing Zeus, the fun-delighting.\"\n\nFirst GriFFIin (snarling).\nI like not him!\n\nAct I.\n\nSECOND GrirFIN (snarling more gruffly).\n\nWhat will the fellow here?\n\nBoru.\n\nThe Nasty One is not of us, 't 1s clear!\n\nMEeEPHISTOPHELES (érutally).\n\nThink'st thou, perhaps, thy guest has nails to scratch,\n\nThat with thy sharper talons cannot match?\n\nJust try it once!\nSPHINX (gently).\n\nStay, shouldst thou find it well;\nBut from our ranks thou wilt thyself expel.\nIn thine own land thou 'rt wont thyself to pamper,\n\nYet here, I think, thy spirits feel a damper.\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\n\nThine upper part entices; naught 1s fairer ;\n\nBut, further down, the beast excites my terror.\n\nSPHINX.\nBitter, False one, will be thy expiation ;\nOur claws are sound and worthy proof,\nBut thou, with withered horse's-hoof,\nArt ill at ease in our association.\n\n(The Sirens prelude above.)\n\n150 faust.\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\n\nOn yonder poplars by the river,\nWhat are the birds that swing above?\n\nSPHINX.\n\nBeware! 'The very best that ever\nExisted, they have lured to love.\n\nSIRENS,7°\nAh, why vitiate your senses,\nWhere those Uglinesses darken?\nWe, in crowds, come hither: hearken\nHow the accordant strain commences,\n\nMeet for Sirens' soft pretences !\n\nSPHINXES\n(mocking them, in the same melody).\nLet them to descend be bidden!\nIn the branches they have hidden\nHideous falcon-claws they 're wearing,\nAnd you 'll feel their cruel tearing,\n\nOnce you lend them willing ear.\n\nSIRENS.\n\nBanish hate and envy, rather!\nWe the purest pleasures gather,\n\nAct I ISI\n\nUnder Heaven's auspicious sphere!\nOn the earth and on the ocean,\nWe, with cheerful beckoning motion,\n\nBid the wanderer welcome here.\n\nM EPHISTOPHELES.\nThese are of novelties the neatest,\nWhere from the throat and harp-string sweetest\nThe tones around each other twine.\nThey 're lost on me, these tinkling trickles ;\nThe sound my ear-drum pats and tickles,\n\nBut cannot reach this heart of mine.\n\nSPHINXES.\nSpeak not of heart! Fool, so to call it!\nAn old and wrinkled leathern wallet\nWould better suit that face of thine.\n\nFaust (approaching).\nHow strange! I, satisfied, behold these creatures, —\nIn the Repulsive, grand and solid features :7!\nA fate propitious I behold advance.\nWhither transports me now this solemn glance?\n\n(Pointing to the SpHINXEs.)\n\nOnce before these took C£dipus his stand :\n\n152 faust.\n\n(Pointing to the Sirens.)\nThese made Ulysses writhe in hempen band:\n(Pointing to the ANTs.)\nBy these the highest treasure was amassed :\n(Pointing to the GriFFins.)\nBy these 't was held inviolate and fast :\nFresh spirit fills me, face to face with these —\n\nGrand are the Forms, and grand the Memories!\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\nOnce thou hadst cursed such crude antiques,\nBut now, it seems, they 've comfort given ;\nFor when a man his sweetheart seeks,\n\nWelcome to him are monsters, even.\n\nFaust (¢o the SPHINXES).\n\nYe woman-forms, give ear, and say\n\nHath one of you seen Helena?\n\nSPHINXES.\nBefore her day our line expired in Greece;\nOur very last was slain by Hercules:\nYet ask of Chiron, if thou please.\nHe gallops round throughout this ghostly night,\nAnd if he halt for thee, thy chance is bright.\n\nAct LM. ae\n\nSIRENS.\nThou art not to failure fated!\nHow Ulysses, lingering, learned us,\nNor, regardless passing, spurned us,\nManifold hath he narrated :\nAll to thee shall be confided,\nSeekest thou our meads, divided\n\nBy the dark-green arms of Ocean.\n\nSPHINX.\nLet not thyself thus cheated be!\nNot like Ulysses bound, — but we\nWill with good counsel thee environ:\nIf thow canst find the noble Chiron,\nThou Jt learn what I have promised thee.\n\n[Faust goes away.\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES (z//-temperedly).\nWhat croaks and flaps of wings go past!\nOne cannot see, they fly so fast,\nIn single file, from first to last :\n\nA hunter would grow tired of these.\n\nSPHINX.\n\nThe storm-wind like, that winter harrows,\n\n154 Faust.\n\nReached hardly by Alcides' arrows,\nThey are the swift Stymphalides ;\n\nAnd not ill-meant their greetings creak,\nWith goose's foot and vulture's beak.\nThey fain would join us in our places,\n\nAnd show themselves as kindred races.\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES (as if intimidated).\n\nSome other brute is hissing shrill.\n\nSPHINX.\n\nBe not afraid, though harsh the pzan!\nThey are the hydra-heads, the old Lernzan,\nCut from the trunk, yet think they 're something still.\nBut say, what means your air distressed?\n\nWhy show your gestures such unrest?\n\nWhere will you go? Then take your leave!\n\nThat chorus, there, I now perceive,\n\nTurns like a weathercock your neck. Advance! —\nGreet as you will each lovely countenance!\n\nThey are the Lamia, wenches vile, .\n\nWith brazen brows and lips that smile,\n\nSuch as the satyr-folk have found so fair:\n\nA cloven foot may venture all things there.\n\nAct Ll. 155\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\n\nBut stay you here, that I again may find you?\n\nSPHINX.\nYes! Join the airy rabble, there behind you!\nFrom Egypt we, long since, with all our peers,\nAccustomed were to reign a thousand years.\nIf for our place your reverence be won,\nWe rule for you the days of Moon and Sun.\nWe sit before the Pyramids\nFor the judgment of the Races,\nInundation, War, and Peace, —\n\nWith eternal changeless faces.\naera\nII.\nPENEUS\n(surrounded with Nympus and Tributary Streams).\n\nPEneEus.??\nTIR yourselves, ye whispering rushes,\nRustle, slender willow-bushes,\nSister reeds, breathe softer, crisper,\nTrembling poplar-branches, whisper\nTo the interrupted dream !\n\n156 Faust.\n\nFearful premonitions wake me,\nSecret shudders thrill and shake me\nIn my rippling, sleeping stream.\nFaust (advancing to the river).\nHere, behind the vines that dangle\nO'er the thicket's bowery tangle,\nIf I heard aright, were noises\nSimilar to human voices.\nBabbling seemed the wave to patter,\n\nAnd the breeze in sport to chatter.\n\nNympus (fo Faust).\n\n— L — - L\nFor thee were it better\n\nae es\nTo lie here, reviving\n. In coolness thy body,\n\nOutwearied with striving, —\nThe rest, that eludes thee,\nTo taste, and be free:\nWe'll rustle and murmur,\n\nAnd whisper to thee.\n\nFaust.\nIam awake! Let them delay me,\nThe incomparable Forms !—and sway me,\n\nAs yonder to my sight confessed!\n\nAct LT. 157\n\nHow strangely am I moved, how nearly !\nAre they but dreams? or memories, merely?\nAlready once was I so blest.\n\nBeneath the swaying bushes hiding,\n\nThe full, fresh waves are softly gliding ;\nThey scarcely rustle on their path:\n\nA hundred founts from all sides hasten,\nTo fill a pure and sparkling basin,\n\nThe hollowed level of a bath.\n\nThe fair young limbs of women trouble\nThe watery glass that makes them double,\nAnd doubles, thus, the eye's delight:\n\nIn joyous bath each other aiding,\n\nOr boldly swimming, shyly wading,\n\nThen cry, and splash, and foamy fight.\n\nIt were enough, the picture viewing, —\nMy healthy eyesight here renewing, —\nYet I desire the still unseen.\n\nMy gaze would pierce through yonder cover,\n'Whose leafy wealth is folded over\n\nThe vision of the stately Queen.\n\nStrange! across the crystal skimming,\n\nFrom the coves the swans are swimming,\n\n158 faust.\n\nMoving in majestic state:\n\nFloating calmly and united,\n\nBut how proud and self-delighted,\nHead and neck they lift elate! . .\nOne, his feathers proudly pluming,\nBoldly on his grace presuming,\n\nLeads the others in the race;\n\nWith his whitest plumage showing\nWave-like on the wave he's throwing,\nSpeeds he to the sacred place... .\nThe others back and forth together\nSwim on with smoothly shining feather,\nAnd soon, in mimic battle met,\n\nShall chase aside the maids affrighted,\nTill, for their own protection slighted,\nTheir bounden service they forget.\n\nNympus.\n\nSisters, bend and lay the ear\n\nOn the turf beside the river!\nSound of hoofs, if right I hear,\nSwift approaching, seems to shiver.\nWould I knew whose rapid flight\nBrings a message to the Night !\n\nAct Ll. 159\n\nFaust.\n\nAs I think, the earth is ringing\n\nFrom a charger, hither springing.\nSee there! see there!\nA fortune comes, most fair:\nShall I attain its blessing ?\nO, marvel past expressing !\n\nA rider trots towards us free:\n\nSpirit and strength in him I see, —\n\nUpon a snow-white steed careering. ...\n\nI know him now, I hail with awe\n\nThe famous son of Philyra!—\n\nHalt, Chiron, halt! I've something for thy hearing.\n\nCHIRON.73\n\nWhat then? What is it?\n\nFaust.\n\nThy course delay!\n\nCHIRON.\nI rest not.\n\nFaust.\n\nTake me with thee, then, I pray!\n\n160 Faust,\n\nCHIRON.\nMount! and I thus can ask, at leisure,\nWhither thy way. Thou standest on the shore;\nI 'll bear thee through the flood, with pleasure.\n\nFaust (mounting).\nWhither thou wilt. I thank thee evermore. ...\nThe mighty man, the pedagogue, whose place\nAnd fame it was, to teach a hero-race, —\nThe splendid circle of the Argonauts,\nAnd all whose deeds made quick the Poet's thoughts.\n\nCHIRON.\nWe will not further speak of these!\nAs Mentor even Pallas is not venerated ;\nAnd, after all, they manage as they please,\nAs if they 'd not been educated.\n\nFaust.\nThe leech, who knoweth flower and fruit,\nWhose lore can sound the deepest root, —\nWho heals the sick, and soothes the wounded place,\n\nHim, here, in mind and body I embrace!\n\nCHIRON.\n\nWhen heroes, near me, felt the smart,\n\nAct I, 161\n\nMy helpful knowledge failed them seldom;\nBut, at the last, I left mine art\nTo priest and simple-gathering beldam.\n\nFaust.\n\nThy speech the true great man betrays,\nWho cannot hear a word of praise ;\nHis modesty would fain confound us\n\nTo think his equals still were round us.\n\nCHIRON.\n\nThou seemest skilled to feign such matter —\n\nPeople and Prince alike to flatter.\n\nFaust.\nBut surely thou wilt grant to me\nThat thou the greatest of thy time didst see,\nUpon their paths of proud achievement trod,\nAnd lived thy days, a serious demigod.\nAmong those grand, heroic forms of old,\nWhom didst thou for the best and worthiest hold?\n\nCHIRON.\n\nOf those beneath the Argonauts' bright banner,\n\nEach worthy was in his peculiar manner,\n\n2!\n\n162 Faust.\n\nAnd by the virtue of his strength selective\nSufficed therein, where others were defective.\nCastor and Pollux were as victors hailed,\n\nWhere beauty and the grace of youth prevailed :\nDecision, the swift deed for others' aid,\n\nGave the fair crown before the Boreads laid :\nReflective, prudent, strong, in council wise,\n\nSo Jason ruled, delight of women's eyes:\n\nThen Orpheus, gentle, silent, brooding, lowering,\nBut when he struck the lyre, all-overpowering.\nSharp-sighted Lynceus, who by day and dark\nThrough shoreward breakers steered the sacred bark\nDanger is best endured where men are brothers ;\n\nWhen one achieves, then praise him all the others.\n\nFaust.\n\nBut Hercules thy speech is wronging —\n\nCHIRON.\n\n_ Ah, me! awaken not my longing!...\nI had not seen, in Fields Elysian,\nHow Phebus, Arés, Hermes, shine;\nBut there arose before my vision\n\nA form that all men called divine.\n\nA king by birth, as ne'er another,\n\nAct Il.\n\nA youth magnificent to view ;\nThough subject to his elder brother,\nAnd to the loveliest women, too.\n\nNo second such hath Gza granted,74\nOr Hebe led to Heaven again;\n\nFor him the songs are vainly chanted,\n\nThe marble hewn for him tn vain.\n\nFaust.\nThough ever to his form addicted,\nHis grace the sculptors could not wreak.\nThe fairest Man hast thou depicted,\nNow of the fairest Woman speak! _\n\nCHIRON.\nWhat! — Little worth is woman's beauty,\nSo oft an image dumb we see:\nI only praise, in loving duty,\nA being bright and full of glee.\nFor Beauty in herself delighteth ;\nAnd irresistibly she smiteth\nWhen sweetly she with Grace uniteth,\nLike Helena, when her I bore.\n\nFaust.\n\nHer didst thou bear?\n\n164 faust.\n\nCHIRON.\n\nThis back she pressed.\n\nFaust.\n\nWas I not wild enough, before?\n\nAnd now such seat, to make me blest!\n\nCHIRON.\n\nJust so she grasped me by the hair\n\nAs thou dost.\nFaust.\n\nO, I scarcely dare\nTo trust my senses !— tell me more!\nShe is my only aspiration |\nWhence didst thou bear her —to what shore?\n\nCHIRON.\nNot difficult is the relation.\n\"T was then, when came the Dioscuri bold\nTo free their sister from the robbers' hold;\nBut these, accustomed not to be subdued,\nRegained their courage and in rage pursued.\nThe swamps below Eleusis did impede\nThe brothers' and the sister's flying speed:\nThe brothers waded: splashing through the reed,\n\nAct II.\n\nI swam: then-off she sprang, and pressing me\nOn the wet mane, caressing me,\nShe thanked with sweetly-wise and conscious tongue.\n\nHow charming was she! — dear to age, so young!\n\nFaust.\nBut seven years old ! —\n\nCHIRON.\n\nPhilologists, I see,\nEven as they cheat themselves, have cheated thee.\n'°T is curious with your mythologic dame : 75\nThe Poet takes her when he needs her name;\nShe grows not old, stays ever young and warm,\nAnd of the most enticing form :\nSeduced in youth, in age enamoring still, — _\n\nEnough! no time can bind the Poet's will.\n\nFaust.\nThen let no bonds of Time be thrown around her!\nEven as on Pherez's isle Achilles found her,\nBeyond the bounds of Time. What blessing rare,\nIn spite of Fate such love to win and wear!\nAnd shall not I, by mightiest desire,\nUnto my life that sole fair form acquire,\n\nThat shape eternal, peer of Gods above,\n\n166 Faust.\n\nTender as grand, sublime as sweet with love?\nThou saw'st her once; to-day I saw her beam,\nThe dream of Beauty, beautiful as Dream!\n\nMy soul, my being, now is bound and chained ;\n\nI cannot live, unless she be attained.\n\nCHIRON.\n\nThou, Stranger! feel'st, as man, such ecstasy ;\n\n_ Among us, Spirits, mad thou seem'st to be.\n\nYet, as it haps, thy fortune now is omened ;\n\nFor every year, though only for a moment,\n\nIt is my wont to call at Manto's dwelling, —\n\nShe, Esculapius' child, whose prayers are swelling\nUnto her father, that, his fame to brighten,\n\nThe brains of doctors he at last enlighten,\n\nAnd them from rashly dealing death may frighten.\nI like her best of all the guild of Sibyls, —\nHelpful and kind, with no fantastic fribbles ;\n\nShe hath the art, if thou the time canst borrow,\nWith roots of power to give thee healing thorough.\n\nFaust.\n\nBut I will not be healed! my aim is mighty :\nI will not be, like others, meanly flighty !\n\nAct Ll,\n\nCHIRON.\n\nThe noble fountain's cure neglect thou not:\nOo\n\nBut quick dismount! We 've reached the spot.\n\nFaust.\n\nAnd whither, in this dreary night, hast thou\nTo land through pebbly rivers brought me now?\n\nCHIRON.\n\nHere Rome and Greece in battle tried their powers ;\n\nHere flows Peneus, there Olympus towers, —\nThe greatest realm that e'er was lost in sand.\nThe monarch flies, the conquerin burghera)stand.\nLook up and see, in moonlight shining clear,\n\nThe memorable, eternal Temple near!\n\nManto? (dreaming within).\nFrom horse-hoofs tremble\nThe sacred steps of the Temple!\n\nThe Demigods draw near.\n\nCHIRON.\nQuite right!\nOpen your eyes, and see who's here!\nManto (awaking).\n\nWelcome! Thou dost not fail, I see.\n\nPus,\n\n168 Faust.\n\nCHIRON.\n\nAnd still thy temple stands for thee!\n\nManrTo.\n\nAnd speedest thou still unremitting?\n\nCHIRON.\n\nAnd thou in peaceful calm art sitting,\n\nWhile I rejoice in restless heels?\n\nManro.\n\nI wait, and Time around me wheels.\n\nAnd he?\n\nCHIRON.\nThe vortex of this night\nHath whirled him hither to thy sight.\nHelen, with mad, distracted senses,\nHelen he 'd win, by all pretences,\nAnd knows not how or where the task commences ;\n\nBut he deserves the Esculapian cure.\n\nManrTo.\n\nTo whom the Impossible is lure\n\nI love.\n(Curron is already far away.)\n\nRash one, advance! there's joy for thee!\n\nAct LT. 169\n\nThis dark way leads thee to Persephone.\nUnder Olympus' hollow foot,\nSecret, she waits prohibited salute.\n\nI smuggled Orpheus in to her, of old:\n\nUse thy chance better! On!—be bold! —\n[ They descend.\nITI.\n\nON THE UPPER PENEUS, AS BEFORE.\n\nSIRENS.\n\nLUNGE in cool Peneus' wave!\nThere 't is well to sport in swimming,\nSongs with chorded voices hymning,\nThat the ill-starred folk we save.\nHealth is none where water fails! 77\nLet our hosts, with sounding pzan,\nHasten to the blue Agzan,\n\nWhere each joy shall swell our sails.\n(Earthquake.)\n\nBack the frothy wave is flowing,\nNow no longer downward going ;\n\nShakes the bed, the waters roar,\n\nFaust.\n\nCracks and smokes the stony shore.\nLet us fly! Come, every one!\n\nBy this marvel profit none.\n\nLeave, ye guests, this wild commotion\nFor the cheerful sports of Ocean,\nShining, where the quivering reaches,\nLightly heaving, bathe the beaches, —\nThere, where Luna's double splendor\nFreshens us with night-dews tender.\nThere the freest life delights us ;\n\nHere the threatening Earthquake frights us:\nWho is prudent, haste away!\n\nFearful is it, here to stay.\n\nSeismos 78\n(growling and jolting in the depths).\nOnce again the force applying,\nBravely with the shoulders prying,\nWe to get above are trying,\n\nWhere to us must all give way.\n\nSPHINXES.\nWhat a most repulsive shaking,\nTerrible and hideous quaking !\nWhat a quivering and shocking,\n\nAct 1. 171\n\nHither rolling, thither rocking!\nWhat vexation and dismay !\n\nBut we shall not change our station,\nWere all Hell in agitation. ...\nNow behold a dome upswelling,\nWonderful! 'T is he, compelling, —\nHe, the hoary, antiquated,\n\nHe who Delos' isle created,\nBidding it from ocean break,\n\nFor the childed woman's sake.\n\nHe, with all his force expended,\nRigid arms and shoulders bended,\nLike an Atlas in his gesture\n\nPushes up the earth's green vesture,\nLoam and grit, and sand and shingle,\nWhere the shore and river mingle:\nThus our valley's bosom quiet\nCross-wise tears he, in his riot.\n\nIn unwearied force defiant,\n\nHe, a caryatid-giant,\n\nBears a fearful weight of boulders,\nBuried still below his shoulders ;\nBut no further shall be granted,\n\nFor the Sphinxes here are planted.79\n\n172 faust.\n\nSEISMOS.\n\nThe work alone I 've undertaken ;\n\nThe credit will be given to me:\n\nHad I not jolted, shoved, and shaken,\n\nHow should this world so beauteous be?\nHow stood aloft your mountains ever,\n\nIn pure and splendid blue of air,\n\nHad I not heaved with huge endeavor\n\nTill they, like pictures, charm you there?\nWhen, where ancestral memory brightens,\nOld Night and Chaos saw me sore betrayed,\nAnd in the company of Titans\n\nWith Pelion and Ossa as with balls we esi\nNone could in ardent sport of youth surpass us,\nUntil, outwearied, at the last,\n\nEven as a double cap, upon Parnassus\n\nHis summits wickedly we cast.\n\nApollo, now, upon that mount of wonder\nFinds with the Muses his retreat :\n\nFor even Jove, and for his bolts of thunder,\nI heaved and held the lofty seat.\n\nThus have I forced the fierce resistance\nAnd struggled upward from the deep;\n\nAnd summon now to new existence\n\nThe joyous dwellers of the steep.\n\nAct IT. 173\n\nSPHINXES.\n\n'T is true, the hill would seem primeval,\n\nAnd warranted of old to stand,\n\nHad we not witnessed its upheaval,\n\nToiling and towering from the land.\n\nA bushy forest, spreading, clothes its face,\nAnd rocks on rocks are pressing to their place.\nA Sphinx, therefrom, is by no fear o'ertaken:\n\nWe shall not let our sacred seats be shaken.\n\nGRIFFINS.°\n\nGold in spangle, leaf, and spark\nGlimmers through the fissures dark.\nQuick, lest others should detect it,\n\nHaste, ye Emmets, and collect it!\n\nCuHorus OF EMMETS.\n\nAs they, the giant ones,\nUpward have thrown it,\nQuick-footed, pliant ones,\nClimb it and own it!\nRapidly in and out!\n\nIn each such fissure\n\nIs every crumb about\n\nFaust.\n\nWealth for the wisher !\nSeek for them greedily,\nEven the slightest :\nEverywhere speedily\nGather the brightest !\nDiligent be, and bold —\nSwarm to the fountain:\nOnly bring in the Gold! )\nHeed not the Mountain!\n\nGRIFFINS.\n\nCome in! come in!—the treasure heap!\nOur claws upon it we shall keep.\n\nThe most efficient bolts they are;\n\nThe greatest wealth they safely bar.\n\nPycmIESs.\n\nVerily, here we sit securely ;\n\n. How it happened, is not clear.\nAsk not whence we came; for surely\n'T is enough that we are here.\nUnto Life 's delighted dwelling\nSuitable is every land;\n\nWhere a rifted rock is swelling,\n\nAct LT.\n\nAlso is the Dwarf at hand.\n\nMale and female, busy, steady,\n\nWe as models would suffice:\n\nWho can tell if such already\n\nLabored so in Paradise?\n\nHere our lot as best we measure,\n\nAnd our star of fate is blest:\n\nMother Earth brings forth with pleasure,\nIn the East as in the West.\n\nDacty Ls.\nIf she, in a single night,\nThe Pygmies brought to light,\nPygmiest of all she'll create yet, _\nAnd each find his mate yet!\n\nPycmy-E.pers.\nBe ye, in haste,\nConveniently placed!\nLabor, and lead\nStrength unto speed!\nPeace is yet with ye,\nBuild now the smithy, —\nThe host be arrayed\nWith armor and blade!\n\n176 faust.\n\nEmmets, laborious,\nWorking victorious,\nScorning to settle,\nFurnish us metal!\nDactyls, your host,\nSmallest and most,\nHear the requiring,\nBring wood for firing |\nHeap in the chambers\nFuel, untiring :\n\nFurnish us embers!\n\nGENERALISSIMO.\n\nWith arrow and bow,\nEncounter the foe!\nBy yonder tanks\n\n' The heron-ranks,\nThe countless-nested,\nThe haughty-breasted,\nAt one quick blow\nShoot, and bring low!\nAll together,\nThat we may feather\n\nOur helmets so.\n\nAct LT. 177\n\nEMMETS AND DactTYLs.\n\nWho now will save us!\nWe bring the iron,\nAnd chains enslave us.\nTo break our fetters\nWere now defiant;\n\nWe bide our season, —\n\nMeanwhile, be pliant!\n\nTue Cranes oF [sycus.®!\n\nMurder-cries and moans of dying!\nStartled wings that flap in flying!\nWhat lament, what pain and fright\nPierces to our airy height!\nAll have fallen in the slaughter,\nReddening with their blood the water;\nPygmy-lust, misformed and cruel,\nRobs the heron of his jewel.\nOn their helms the plumage waves, —\nYonder fat-paunched, bow-legged knaves!\nComrades of our files of motion,\nSerried wanderers of ocean,\nYou we summon to requital\nIn a cause to you so vital.\n\n178 — Faust.\n\nStrength and blood let no one spare!\nEndless hate to them we swear!\n\n(They disperse, croaking in the air.)\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES (on the plain).\n\nWith ease the Northern witches I controlled,\n\nBut o'er these foreign sprites no power I hold.\n\nThe Blocksberg is a most convenient place;\nHowe'er one strays, one can his path retrace.\n\nDame Ilse watches for us from her stone,®\n\nAnd Henry sits upon his mountain-throne:\n\nThe Snorers snarl at Elend — snorting peers, —\nAnd all is finished for a thousand years. ©\n\nBut here, who knows if, even where he stand,\nBeneath his feet may not puff up the land? |\n\nI cheerily wander through a level glade,\n\nAnd, all at once, behind me heaved, is made\n\nA mountain — scarcely to be called so, true;\n\nYet high enough the Sphinxes from my view\n\nTo intercept. . . . Still many a fire flares out\nAdown the vale, the mad concern about. ...\n\nStill dance and hover, beckoning and retreating,\nThe gay groups round me, with their knavish greeting.\nBut gently now! For, spoiled by stealthy pleasure,\n\n- One always seeks to snatch some dainty treasure.\n\nAct I.\n\nLami #33\n(drawing MePHISTOPHELES after them).\n\nQuicker and quicker!\nAnd further take him!\nThen hesitating,\nChattering and prating!\n'T is fun to make him —\nOld, sintul Tricker ! —\nFollow behind us:\nTo penance comes he\nWith halt-foot clumsy ;\nHe marches hobbling,\nAnd forwards wobbling ;\nHis leg he trails\nIn haste to find us;\nWe fly — he fails.\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES (standing still).\n\nAccurséd fate! Deceived, as oft!\n\nSince Adam's time seduced and scoffed !\nThough old we grow, not wisely schooled:\nEnough already I've been fooled!\n\nWe know, how wholly worthless is the race,\nWith body corseted and painted face;\n\n180 Faust.\n\nOf health responsive own they not a tittle,\nWhere'er one grasps them, every limb is brittle.\nThe thing is known, and patent to our glances,\n\nAnd yet, whene'er the trollops pipe, one dances.\n\nLaMi& ( pausing).\nHalt! he reflects; his steps delay:\n\nTurn back to meet him, lest he get away!\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES (striding forwards).\n\nForwards! the doubt, my strength benumbing,\nI won't encourage foolishly ;\nFor were the witches not forthcoming,\n\nWhy, who the devil would Devil be!\n\nLami (very graciously).\n\nRound this hero lightly moving,\nLet his heart, the choice approving,\n\nOne of us select for loving!\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\n\nTrue, in this uncertain lustre,\nSeem ye fair maids, in a cluster ;\n\nFain would I to you be juster.\n\nAct Il. 181\n\nEmpusa (pressing forwards).\n\nNot me, too? I'm also fitted\n\nIn your train to be admitted !\n\nLaMIz.\n\nShe 's one too many; for, in short,\n\nShe always ruins all our sport.\n\nEmpusa (fo MEPHISTOPHELES).\n\nEmpusa, with the ass's foot,™\nThy cousin dear, gives thee salute!\nOnly a horse's hoof is thine,\nAnd yet, Sir Cousin, greeting fine!\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES,\nStrangers I here anticipated,\n\nAnd find, alas! my near-related :\n\nThe old tale — instances by dozens —\n\nFrom Hartz to Hellas always cousins!\n\nEMPUSA.\n\nI act with promptness and decision ;\nIn many forms could meet thy vision:\nYet in thy honor now, instead,\n\nHave I put on the ass's head.\n\n182 Faust.\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\n\nGreat things, .I see, are here portended,\nThus with the race as kinsman blended:\n\nLet come what may, since I have known her —\n\nThe ass's head —I'd fain disown her.\n\nLaMIL&.\n\nLeave her, the Ugly! She doth scare\nWhatever lovely seems and fair ;\nWhate'er was lovely, fair to see,\n\nWhen she comes, ceases so to be.\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.,\n\nThese cousins also, — soft, delicious,\nAre one and all to me suspicious :\nI fear, beneath their cheeks of roses\n\nSome metamorphosis reposes.\n\nLaMI&.\n\nBut try —take hold! For we are many,\nAnd if thou hast a lucky penny,\n\nSecure thyself the highest prize!\n\nWhat means thy wanton organ-grinding ?\nA wretched wooer 't is, we 're finding,\n\n. Yet swagger'st thus, and seem'st so wise! ...\n\nAct I.\n\nNow one of us will he lay hand on,\n'So by degrees your masks abandon,\n\nAnd show your natures to his eyes!\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\nThe fairest here have I selected. ...\n(Clasping her.)\nO, what a broomstick, unexpected !\n(Grasping another.)\n\nAnd this one?... Vilest countenance!\n\nLAMI&.\n\nThink not thou 'rt worth a better chance!\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\n\nThat little one, she warms my gizzard....\n\nBut through my hand she slips, a lizard ;\nHer smooth braids, snaky-like, intwine.\nI try the tall one, yet she worse is, —\n\nI only grasp a Bacchic thyrsus,\n\nThe head a scaly cone of pine.\n\nWhat follows next? Behold a fat one:\nPerhaps I'l] find delight in that one,\n\nSo, once for all, the chance renew !\n\nThe Turks, for one so puffy, flabby,\n\n184 faust.\n\nWould pay a price by no means shabby ...\nBut, ah! the puff-ball bursts in two!\n\nLaMI&.\nNow scatter widely, hovering, feigning,\nIn lightning-like, dark flight enchaining\nThe interloping witch's-son !\nUncertain circles, awful, poiseless !\nHorrid bat-wings, flying noiseless !\n\nHe 'scapes too cheaply, when it's done.\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES (shaking himself).\nI've not become, it seems, a great deal shrewder ;\nThe North 's absurd, 't is here absurder, ruder,\nThe spectres here preposterous as there,\nPeople and poets shallow ware.\nThis masquerade resembles quite —\nAs everywhere —a dance of appetite.\nI sought a lovely masked procession,\nAnd caught such things, I stood aghast....\nI'd give myself a false impression,\nIf this would only longer last.\n| (Losing himself among the rocks.)\nWhere am I then? and whither sped?\n\nThere was a path; 't is now a dread.\n\nAct LI. 185\n\nBy level ways I've wandered hither,\n\nWhere rubble now is piled together.\n\nI clamber up and down in vain;\n\nWhere shall I find my Sphinx again?\n\nI had not dreamed so mad a sight, —\n\nA mountain in a single night!\n\nA bold witch-journey, to my thought:\n\nTheir Blocksberg with them they have brought.\n\nOreap (from the natural rock).35\n\nCome up tome! My mountain old\n\nIn its primeval form behold!\n\nRevere the steep and rocky stairs, ascending\n\nWhere Pindus' offshoots with the plain are blending!\nUnshaken, thus I heaved my head\n\nWhen o'er my shoulders Pompey fled.\n\nBeside me this illusive rock\n\nWill vanish at the crow of cock.\n\nI see such fables oft upthrown,\n\nAnd suddenly again go down.\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\nHonor to thee, thou reverend Head,\nWith strength of oak engarlanded!\nThe clearest moonlight never cleaves\n\n186 Faust.\n\nThe darkness of your crowded leaves.\nI see between the bushes go\n\nA light, with unpretending clow.\nHow all things fit and balance thus!\n\"T is verily Homunculus.\n\nNow whence thy way, thou little lover?\n\nHomuNCcULUS.\n\nFrom place to place I flit and hover,\n\nAnd, in the best sense, I would fain exist,\n\nAnd most impatient am, my glass to shatter:\nBut what till now I've witnessed, is 't\n\nThen strange if I mistrust the matter?\n\nYet I ll be confidential, if thou list:\n\nI follow two Philosophers this way.\n\n\"T was \" Nature!\" \"' Nature!\" —all I heard them say;\nI'll cling to them, and see what they are seeing,\nFor they must understand this earthly being,\nAnd I shall doubtless learn, in season,\n\nWhere to betake me with the soundest reason.\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\nThen do it of thy own accord!\nFor here, where spectres from their hell come,\n\nIs the philosopher also welcome.\n\nAct I. 187\n\nThat so his art and favor delectate you,\nAt once a dozen new ones he'll create you.\nUnless thou errest, thou wilt ne'er have sense;\n\nWouldst thou exist, thyself the work commence!\n\nHomunNcUuULUS.\n\nGood counsel, also, is not to reject.\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\n\nThen go thy way! We further will inspect.\n[ They separate.\n\nAnaxacoras (fo THates).°6\n\nThy stubborn mind will not be rightened :\nWhat else is needful, that thou be enlightened ?\n\nTHALES.\n\nTo every wind the billows yielding are;\nYet from the cliff abrupt they keep themselves afar.\n\nANAXAGORAS.\n\nBy fiery vapors rose this rock you 're seeing.\n\nT HALES.\n\nIn moisture came organic life to being.\n\n188 Faust.\n\nHomuncutus (detween the two).\nTo walk with you may I aspire?\n\nTo come to being is my keen desire.\n\nANAXAGORAS.\nHast thou, O Thales! ever in a night\nBrought forth from mud such mountain to the light?\n\nTHALES.\nNature, the living current of her powers,\nWas never bound to Day and Night and Hours;\nShe makes each form by rules that never fail,\n\nAnd 't is not Force, even on a mighty scale.®7\n\nANAXAGORAS.\n\nBut here it was /— Plutonic fire, the shaper |\nExplosive force of huge /Eolian vapor\n\nBroke through the level Earth's old crust primeval,\nAnd raised the new hill with a swift upheaval!\n\n'THALES.\nWhat further shall therefrom result? The hill\nIs there: 't is well !—so let it stand there still !\n\nIn such a strife one loses leisure precious,\n\nYet only leads the patient folk in leashes.\n\nAct I. 189\n\n| ANAXAGORAS.\n\nThe Mountain's rocky clefts at once\nAre peopled thick with Myrmidons,\nWith Pygmies, Emmets, Fingerlings,\nAnd other active little things.\n\n(To Homuncutus.)\nTo greatness hast thou ne'er aspired,\nBut lived an eremite retired ;\nCanst thou persuade thy mind to govern,\n\nI ll have thee chosen as their sovereign.\n\nHomuNCULUS.\n\nWhat says my Thales?\n\nTHALES.\n\n— Will not recommend :\nFor small means only unto small deeds tend,\nBut great means make the small man great.\nSee there! The Cranes, with purpose heinous ! —\nThe troubled populace they menace,\nAnd they would menace thus the king.\nWith pointed beaks and talons ample\nThe little men they pierce and trample:\nDoom comes already thundering.\n\nIt was a crime, the heron-slaughter,\n\n190 faust.\n\nBeset amid their peaceful water ;\n\nBut from that rain of arrows deadly\n\nA fell revenge arises redly,\n\nAnd calls the kindred o'er the flood\n\nTo spill the Pygmies' guilty blood.\nWhat use for shield and helm and spear?\nOr for the dwarfs the heron-feather ?\nDactyl and Emmet hide together :\nTheir cohorts scatter, seek the rear! ww\n\nANAXAGORAS\n(after a pause, solemnly).\nThough I the subterranean powers approve,\nYet help, in this case, must be sought above....\nO thou aloft, in grace and vigor vernal,\nTri-named, tri-featured, and eternal,\nBy all my people's woe I cry to thee,\nDiana, Luna, Hecaté!\nThou breast-expanding One, thou deeply-pondering,\nThou calmly-shining One, majestic wandering,\nThe fearful craters of thy shade unseal,\nAnd free from spells thine ancient might reveal!\n( Pause.)\nAm I too swiftly heard?\nHas then my cry\n\nAct Ll. 19!\n\nTo yonder sky,\n\nThe course of Nature from its orbit stirred ?\n\nAnd greater, ever greater, drawing near,\nBehold the Goddess' orbéd throne appear,\nEnormous, fearful in its grimness,\n\nWith fires that redden through the dimness!...\nNo nearer! Disk of dread, tremendous,\n\nLest thou, with land and sea, to ruin send us!\nThen were it true, Thessalian Pythonesses ®\nWith guilty spells, as Song confesses,\n\nOnce from thy path thy steps enchanted,\n\nTill fatal gifts by thee were granted? ...\nThe shield of splendor slowly darkles,\n\nThen suddenly splits, and shines, and sparkles!\nWhat rattling and what hissing follow,\n\nWith roar of winds and thunders hollow ! —\nBefore thy throne I speak my error. ...\n\nO, pardon! J invoked the terror. |\n\n(Casts himself upon his face.)\n\nTHALES.\n\nHow many things can this man see and hear!\n\nWhat happed, is not to me entirely clear ;\n\n192 Faust.\n\nI've not, like him, experienced it.\nThe Hours are crazy; we 'll admit;\nFor Luna calmly shines, and free,\n\nIn her high place, as formerly.\n\nHomMuNCULUS.\n\nLook yonder where the Pygmies fled!\nThe round Hill has a pointed head.\n\nI felt a huge rebound and shock ;\n\nDown from the moon had fallen the rock,\nAnd then, without the least ado,\n\nBoth foe and friend it smashed and slew.\n\nI praise such arts as these, that show\nCreation in a night fulfilled ;\n\nThat from above and from below\n\nAt once this mountain-pile could build.\n\nTHALES.\n\nBe still! 'T was but imagined so.\nFarewell, then, to the ugly brood!\nThat thou wast not their king, is good.\nOff to the cheerful festals of the Sea!\n\nThere as a marvellous guest, they 'll honor thee.\n[ They depart.\n\nAct L. | 193 |\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES\n\n(climbing up the opposite side).\nHere must I climb by steep and rocky stairways,\nAnd roots of ancient oaks —the vilest rare ways!\nUpon my Hartz, the resinous atmosphere |\nGives hint of pitch, to me almost as dear\nAs sulphur is, — but here, among these Greeks,\nFor such a smell one long and vainly seeks ;\nAnd curious am I — for 't is worth the knowing —\n\nTo find wherewith they keep their fires of Hell a-going.\n\nDryap.\nAt home, be wise as it befits thee there;\nAbroad, thou hast no cleverness to spare.\nThou shouldst not homeward turn thy mind, but here\n\nThe honor of the ancient oaks revere.\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\nOne thinks on all relinquished there ;\nUse made it Paradise, and keeps it fair.\nBut say, what is 't, in yonder cave\n\nObscure, a crquching triple-shape resembling ?\n\nDryab.\n\nThe Phorkyads!* Go there, if thou art brave ;\nAddress them, if thou canst, untrembling !\n\n194 faust.\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES. |\nWhy not! . . I something see, and am dumbfounded !\nProud as I am, I must confess the truth: |\nI 've never seen their like, in sooth, —\nWorse than our hags, an Ugliness unbounded!\nHow can the Deadly Sins then ever be\nFound ugly in the least degree,\n- When one this triple dread shall see?\nWe would not suffer them to dwell\nEven at the dreariest door of Hell; —\nBut here, in Beauty's land, the Greek,\nThey 're famed, because they 're called antique....\nThey stir, they seem to scent my coming;\nLike vampire-bats, they 're squeaking, twittering, hum-\nming.\nTHE PHORKYADS.\nGive me the eye, my sisters, that it spy\n\nWho to our temple ventures now so nigh.\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\n\nMost honored Dame! Approaching, by your leave,\nGrant that your triple blessing I receive.\nI come, though still unknown, yet, be it stated,\nIf I mistake not, distantly related.\nOld, reverend Gods, already did I see;\n\nAct IT. 195\n\nTo Ops and Rhea have I bowed the knee;\nThe Parce even — your sisters — yesterday,\nOr day before, they came across my way ;\n\n_ And yet the like of you ne'er met my sight: .\nSilent am I, and ravished with delight.\n\nTHe PHoRKYADS.\n\nThis spirit seems to have intelligence.\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\nI am amazed no poet has the sense\nTo sing your praises, — say, how can it be\nThat we no pictures of your beauty see?\nShould not, through you, the chisel strive to wean us\nFrom shapes like those of Juno, Pallas, Venus?\n\nTHe PHoRKYADS.\n\nSunken in solitude and stillest night,\nThe mind of us ne'er took so far a flight.\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\nHow should it, then? since here, concealed from view,\nNone ever see you, none are seen by you!\nBut choose those dwelling-places, and be known,\n\nWhere Art and Splendor share an equal throne;\n\n196 faust.\n\nWhere swift, with double tread, day after day,\nA marble block as hero walks away ;\nWhere —\n\nTue PHoRKYADS.\nCease, and rouse in us no longing vision!\nWhat profit, if we knew them with precision ? —\nWe, born in night, akin to gloom alone,\n\nUnto ourselves almost, to others quite, unknown.\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES,\nIn such a case there's little more to say,\nBut one one's self to others can convey.\nOne eye supplies you three, one tooth as well,\nSo were it mythologically possible\nIn two the being of the Three to cover,\nAnd unto me the third fair form make over,\n\nA short time, only.\nONE.\n\nWill it do, forsooth ?\n\nTHE OTHERS.\n\nWe'll try it! —but without or eye or tooth.\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\n\nNow just the best thing have you taken away.\nHow shall I then the image stern display?\n\nAct £1. 197\n\nONE.\n'T is easily done: just close one eye,\nAnd let thy one side-tusk be seen thereby :\nIn profile, thus, with not a trait diminished,\n\nThy sisterly resemblance will be finished.\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\nSo be it, then!\n\nTHE PHORKYADS.\n\nSo be it!\n\nM EPHISTOPHELES\n(as PHoRKYAD in profile).\nMe behold,\nThe much-beloved son of Chaos old!\n\nTHe PHorKYADs.\n\nDaughters of Chaos are we, by good right.\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\n\nDisgrace! They 'll call me now hermaphrodite.\n\nTue PHorRKYADS.\n\nIn our new sister-triad what a beauty!\n\nTwo eyes have we, two teeth, for further duty.\n\n198 faust.\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\n\nNow from all eyes I'll hide this visage fell,\n\nTo fright the devils in the pool of Hell.\n[ Exit.\n\nIV.\n\nROCKY COVES OF THE AGEAN SEA.®\nThe Moon delaying in the Zenith.",
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