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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": 11,
    "slug": "11-act-v-midnight-care",
    "title": "Act V — Midnight (Care)",
    "of": 12,
    "words": 3626,
    "text": "First.\n\n\\ { Y name, it is Want.\n\nSECOND.\n\nAnd mine, it is Guilt.\n\nTHIRD.\nAnd mine, it is Care.\n\nFourtTu.\n\nNecessity, mine.'©\n\nTHREE TOGETHER.\n\nThe portal is bolted, we cannot get in:\n\nThe owner is rich, we 've no business within.\n\nWant,\nI shrink to a shadow.\n\n5°\n\n394 Faust.\n\nGuILT.\n\nI shrink unto naught.\n\nNECESSITY.\n\nThe pampered from me turn the face and the thought.\n\nCaRE.\nYe Sisters, ye neither can enter, nor dare;\n\nBut the keyhole is free to the entrance of Care.\n\n(CarE disappears.)\n\nWant.\nYe, grisly old Sisters, be banished from here |.\n\nGUILT.\n\nBeside thee, and bound to thee, I shall appear !\n\nNECESSITY.\n\nAt your heels goes Necessity, blight in her breath.\n\nTHe THREE.\nThe clouds are in motion, and cover each star!\nBehind there, behind! from afar, from afar,\n\nHe cometh, our Brother! he comes, he is — — —\n— — — Death!\n\nAct V. 395\n\nFaust (in the Palace).\n\nFour saw I come, but those that went were three;\nThe sense of what they said was hid from me,\nBut something like \" Necessity\" I heard;\nThereafter, '* Death,\" a gloomy, threatening word!\nIt sounded hollow, spectrally subdued :\n\nNot yet have I my liberty made good:\n\nIf I could banish Magic's fell creations,\n\nAnd totally unlearn the incantations, —\n\nStood I, O Nature! Man alone in thee,\n\nThen were it worth one's while a man to be! 8\nEre in the Obscure I sought it, such was I, —\nEre I had cursed the world so wickedly.\n\nNow fills the air so many a haunting shape,\n\nThat no one knows how best he may escape.\nWhat though One Day with rational brightness beams,\nThe Night entangles us in webs of dreams.\n\nFrom our young fields of life we come, elate:\nThere croaks a bird: what croaks he? Evil fate!\nBy Superstition constantly insnared,\n\nIt grows to us, and warns, and is declared.\nIntimidated thus, we stand alone. — :\nThe portal jars, yet entrance is there none.\n\n( Agitated.)\nTs any one here?\n\n396 faust.\n\nCaRE.\n\nYes! must be my reply.\n\nFaust.\n\nAnd thou, who art thou, then?\n\nCaRE.\n\nWell, — here am I.\n\nFaust.\nAvaunt!\n\nCARE.\n\nI am where I should be.\n\nFaust\n(first angry, then composed, addressing himself).\n\nTake care, and speak no word of sorcery!\n\nCare.\nThough no ear should choose to hear me,\nYet the shrinking heart must fear me: )\nThough transformed to mortal eyes,\nGrimmest power I exercise.\nOn the land, or ocean yonder,\nI, a dread companion, wander,\nAlways found, yet never sought,\nPraised or cursed, as I have wrought!\n\nHast thou not Care already known?\n\nAct V. | 397\n\nFaust.\n\nI only through the world have flown:\n\nEach appetite I seized as by the hair;\n\nWhat not sufficed me, forth I let it fare,\n\nAnd what escaped me, I let go.\n\nI ve only craved, accomplished my delight,\nThen wished a second time, and thus with might\nStormed through my life: at first 't was grand, completely,\nBut now it moves most wisely and discreetly.\nThe sphere of Earth is known enough to me;\nThe view beyond is barred immutably :\n\nA fool, who there his blinking eyes directeth,\nAnd o'er his clouds of peers a place expecteth !\nFirm let him stand, and look around him well!\nThis World means something to the Capable.\"\nWhy needs he through Eternity to wend?\n\nHe here acquires what he can apprehend.\n\nThus let him wander down his earthly day ;\nWhen spirits haunt, go quietly his way ;\n\nIn marching onwards, bliss and torment find,\n\nThough, every moment, with unsated mind!\n\nCARE.\nWhom I once possess, shall never\n\nFind the world worth his endeavor :\n\n398 Faust.\n\nEndless gloom around him folding,\nRise nor set of sun beholding,\nPerfect in external senses,\nInwardly his darkness dense is;\nAnd he knows not how to measure\nTrue possession of his treasure.\nLuck and Il become caprices ;\nStill he starves in all increases;\n\nBe it happiness or sorrow,\n\nHe postpones it till the morrow ;\nTo the Future only cleaveth :\nNothing, therefore, he achieveth.\n\nFaust.\n\nDesist! So shalt thou not get hold of me!\nI have no mind to hear such drivel.\nDepart! Thy gloomy litany\n\nMight even befool the wisest man to evil.\n\nCaRE.\n\nShall he go, or come ? — how guide him?\nPrompt decision is denied him ;\n\nMidway on the trodden highway\n\nHalting, he attempts a by-way ;\n\nEver more astray, bemisted,\n\nAct V.\n\nEverything beholding twisted,\nBurdening himself and others,\n\nTaking breath, he chokes and smothers,\nThough not choked, in Life not sharing,\nNot resigned, and not despairing !\n\nSuch incessant rolling, spinning, —\nPainful quitting, hard beginning, —\nNow constraint, now liberation, —\nSemi-sleep, poor recreation,\n\nFirmly in his place insnare him\n\nAnd, at last, for Hell prepare him!\n\nFaust.\n\nIll-omened spectres! By your treatment strays\nA thousand times the human race to error:\n\nYe even transform the dull, indifferent days\n\nTo vile confusion of entangling terror.\n\n'T is hard, I know, from Demons to escape;\nThe spirit's bond breaks not, howe'er one tries it ;\nAnd yet, O Care, thy power, thy creeping shape,\nThink not that I shall recognize it!\n\nCARE.\n\nSo feel it now: my curse thou lt find,\n\nWhen forth from thee I've swiftly passed!\n\n400 Faust.\n\nThroughout their whole existence men are blind ;\nSo, Faust, be thou like them at last!\n\n(She breathes in his face.)\n\nFaust (blinded).\n\nThe Night seems deeper now to press around me,\nBut in my inmost spirit all is light ; '65\n\nI rest not till the finished work hath crowned me:\nGod's Word alone confers on me the might.\n\nUp from your couches, vassals, man by man!\nMake grandly visible my daring plan!\n\nSeize now your tools, with spade and shovel press!\nThe work traced out must be a swift success.\nQuick diligence, severest ordering\n\nThe most superb reward shall bring ;\n\nAnd, that the mighty work completed stands,\n\nOne mind suffices for a thousand hands.\n\n~—\n\nAct V. 401\n\nVI.\nGREAT OUTER COURT OF THE PALACE.\nTorches.\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES (in advance, as Overseer).\nOME here, come here! Come on, come on!\nYe Lemures, loose-hung creatures |\nOf sinew, ligament, and bone\n\nYour knitted semi-natures !\n\nLemures (in Chorus).\n\nWithout delay are we at hand,\n\nAnd half 't is our impression\n\nThat this concerns a spacious land,\nWhereof we 'Il have possession.\n\nThe pointed stakes, we bring them all,\nThe measuring-chain, for distance ;\nBut we 've forgotten why the call\n\nWas made for our assistance.\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\n\nHere is no need of your artistic zeal :\nProceed as you may think it best!\n\n402 Faust.\n\nYour tallest lay full length, from head to heel,\nAnd lift the turf around him, all the rest!\n\nAs for our fathers made, prepare\n\nTo excavate a lengthened square!\n\nFrom palace to the narrow house transferred,\n\nSuch is, at last, the issue most absurd.\n\nLemures 166\n(digging with mocking gestures).\nIn youth when I did love, did love,\nMethought it was very sweet ;\nWhen 't was jolly and merry every way,\nAnd I blithely moved my feet.\n\nBut now old Age, with his stealing steps,\nHath clawed me with his crutch:\n_ I stumbled over the door of a grave ;\n\nWhy leave they open such?\n\nFaust\n(comes forth from the Palace, groping his way along the door-posts).\n\nHow I rejoice, to hear the clattering spade!\nIt is the crowd, for me in service moiling,\n\nTill Earth be reconciled to toiling,\n\nAd V. ;\n\nTill the proud waves be stayed,\nAnd the sea girded with a rigid zone.\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES (aside).\nAnd yet, thou 'rt laboring for us alone, |\nWith all thy dikes and bulwarks daring ;\nSince thou for Neptune art preparing —\nThe Ocean-Devil — carousal great.\nIn every way shall ye be stranded ;\nThe elements.with us ate banded,\nAnd ruin is the certain fate.\n\n| Faust.\nOverseer !\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\n\nHere!\nFaust.\nHowever possible,\nCollect a crowd of men with vigor,\nSpur by indulgence, praise, or rigor, —\nReward, allure, conscript, compel !\nEach day report me, and correctly note\n\nIfow grows in length the undertaken moat.\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES (half aloud).\nWhen they to me the information gave,\n\nThey spake not of a moat, but of — @ grave.\"\n\nA404 Faust.\n\nFaust.\n\nBelow the hills a marshy plain |\nInfects what I so long have been retrieving ;\nThis stagnant pool likewise to drain\n\nWere now my latest and my best achieving.\n\n° To many millions let me furnish soil,\n\n'\n\nThough not secure, yet free to active toil ;\n\nGreen, fertile fields, where men and herds go forth\nAt once, with comfort, on the newest Earth,\n\nAnd swiftly settled on the hill's firm base,\n\nCreated by the bold, industrious race. |\n\nA land like Paradise here, round about:\n\nUp to the brink the tide may roar without,\nAnd.though it gnaw, to burst with force the limit,\nBy common impulse all unite to hem it.\n\nYes! to this thought I hold with firm persistence ;\nThe last result of wisdom stamps it true:\n\nHe only earns his freedom and existence,\n\nWho daily conquers them anew.'®\n\nThus here, by dangers girt, shall glide away\n\nOf childhood, manhood, age, the vigorous day :\nAnd such a throng I fain would see, —\n\nStand on free soil among a people free!\n\nThen dared I hail the Moment fleeing :\n\nAct V. 405\n\n\"¢ Ah, still delay — thou art so fair!\"\nThe traces cannot, of mine earthly being,\nIn zons perish, — they are there ! —\n\nIn proud fore-feeling of such lofty bliss,\nI now enjoy the highest Moment, — this!\n\n(Faust sinks back: the Lemures take him and lay him upon the\n\nground.)\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\nNo joy could sate him, and suffice no bliss!\nTo catch but shifting shapes was his endeavor:\nThe latest, poorest, emptiest Moment — this, —\nHe wished to hold it fast forever.\nMe he resisted in such vigorous wise,\nBut Time is lord, on earth the old man lies.\"\nThe clock stands still —\n\nCHoRus.\nStands still! silent as midnight, now!\nThe index falls.\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\n\nIt falls; and it is finished, here!\n\nCHORUS.\n\"T is past!\n\n406 faust.\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\n\n— Past! a stupid word.\nIf past, then why?\nPast and pure Naught, complete monotony |\nWhat good for us, this endlessly creating ?—\nWhat is created then annihilating?\n\"And now it's past!\"\" Why read a page so twisted?\n°T is just the same as if it ne'er existed,\nYet goes in circles round as if it had, however :\n\nI'd rather choose, instead, the Void forever.\nSEPULTURE.'/°\n\nLemur. Solo.\n\nWho then hath built the house so ill,\nWith shovel and with spade? .\n\nLEMuRES. 'Chorus.\n\nFor thee, dull guest, in hempen vest,\n\nIt all too well was made.\n\nLemur. Solo,\n\nWho then so ill hath decked the hall?\nNo chairs, nor table any !\n\nPd\n\nAct V. 407\n\nLEmMuRES. Chorus.\n\n\"*T was borrowed to return at call:\n\nThe creditors are so many.\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\n\nThe Body lies, and if the Spirit flee,\n\nI'll show it speedily my blood-signed title. —\nBut, ah! they 've found such methods of requital,\nHis souls the Devil must oft abstracted see!\n\nOne now offends, the ancient way ;\n\nUpon the new we're not yet recommended :\nOnce, I alone secured my prey,\n\nBut now by helpers need to be befriended.\n\nIn all things we must feel the spite!\n\nTransmitted custom, ancient right, —\n\nNothing, indeed, can longer one confide in.\n\n* Once with the last breath left the soul her house;\nI kept good watch, and like the nimblest mouse,\nWhack! was she caught, and fast my claws her hide in!\nNow she delays, and is not fain to quit\n\nThe dismal place, the corpse's hideous mansion ;\nThe elements, in hostile, fierce expansion,\n\nDrive her, at last, disgracefully from it.\n\nAnd though I fret and worry till I'm weary,\n\n408 Faust.\n\nWhen? How? and Where? remains the fatal query :\nOld Death is now no longer swift and strong ;\n\nEven the Whether has been doubtful long.\n\nOft I beheld with lust the rigid members :\n\n*T was only sham; Life kindled from its embers.\n(Fantastic, whirling gestures of conjuration.)\n\nCome on! Strike up the double quick, anew,\n\nWith straight or crooked horns, ye gentlemen infernal !\nOf the old Devil-grit and kernel,\n\nAnd bring at once the Jaws of Hell with you!\n\nHell hath a multitude of jaws, in short,!7!\n\nTo use as suiteth place and dignity ;\n\nBut we, however, in this final sport,\n\nWill henceforth less considerate be. |\n(The fearful Faws of Hell open, on the left.)\n\nThe side-tusks yawn: then from the throat abysmal\nThe raging, fiery torrents flow,\n\nAnd in the vapors of the background dismal\n\nI see the city flame in endless glow.\n\nUp to the teeth the breakers lash the red arena;\n\nThe Damned, in hope of help, are swimming through;\nBut, caught and mangled by the fell hyena,\n\nTheir path of fiery torment they renew.\n\nAct V. 409\n\nIn every nook new horrors flash and brighten,\n\nIn narrow space so much of dread supreme!\n\nWell have you done, the sinners thus to frighten ;\n\n— But still they 'll think it lie, and cheat, and dream!\n\n(To the stout Devils, with short, straight horns.)\n\nNow, paunchy scamps, with cheeks so redly burning!\nYe glow, so fat with hellish sulphur fed ;\n\nWith necks thick-set and stumpy, never turning, —\nWatch here below, if phosphor-light be shed:\n\nIt is the Soul, the wingéd Psyche is it;\n\nPluck off the wings, 't is but a hideous worm: '7?\nFirst with my stamp and seal the thing I'll visit,\nThen fling it to the whirling, fiery storm !\n\nThe lower parts be well inspected,\n\nYe Bloats! perform your duty well:\n\nIf there the Soul her seat selected\n\nWe cannot yet exactly tell.\n\nOft in the navel doth she stay :\n\nLook out for that, she thence may slip away!\n\n(To the lean Devils, with long, crooked horns.)\n\nYe lean buffoons, file-leaders strange and giant,\n\nGrasp in the air, yourselves no respite give!\n\nStrong in the arms, with talons sharp and pliant,\n52 |\n\nAlo | faust. -\n\nThat ye may seize the fluttering fugitive!\nIn her old home discomforted she lies,\n\nAnd Genius, surely, seeks at once to rise.'73\n(Glory from above, on the right.)\n\nTue Heaventy Host.\n\nEnvoys, unhindered,\nHeavenly kindred,\nFollow us here !\nSinners forgiving,\n\nDust to make living!\nLovingest features\nUnto all creatures\nShow in your swaying,\n\nDelaying career !\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\n\nDiscords I hear, a harsh, disgusting strumming,\nFlung from above with the unwelcome Day ;\n\"T is that emasculate and bungled humming\nWhich Pious Cant delights in, every way.\n\nYou know how we, atrociously contented,\nDestruction for the human race have planned :\n\nBut the most infamous that we 've invented\n\nAd V.\n\nIs just the thing their prayers demand.'74\n\nThe fops, they come as hypocrites, to fool us!\nThus many have they snatched, before our eyes:\nWith our own weapons they would overrule us;\nThey 're also Devils — in disguise.\n\nTo lose this case would be your lasting shame ;\n\nOn to the grave, and fortify your claim !\n\nCuorus or ANGELS (scattering roses).175\nRoses, ye glowing ones,\nBalsam-bestowing ones !\nFluttering, quivering,\nSweetness delivering,\nBranching unblightedly,\nBudding delightedly,\nBloom and be seen!\nSpringtime declare him,\nIn purple and green !\nParadise bear him,\n\nThe Sleeper serene!\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES (0 the Satans).\nWhy do ye jerk and squat? Is this Hell's rule?\nStand to your ground, and let them sprinkle!\nBack to his place each gawky fool !\n\nAII\n\nA412 Faust.\n\nThey think, perhaps, with such a flowery crinkle,\nAs if 't were snow, the Devils' heat to cool :\nYour breath shal] make it melt, and shrink, and wrinkle.\nNow blow, ye Blowers!—'T is enough, enough!\nBefore your breath fades all the floating stuff.\nNot so much violence, — shut jaws and noses!\nForsooth, ye blow too strongly at the roses.\n\nThe proper measure can you never learn?\n\nThey sting not only, but they wither, burn! |\nThey hover on with flames of deadly lustre:\nResist them ye, and close together cluster | —\nYour force gives out; all courage fails you so:\n\nThe Devils scent the strange, alluring glow.\n\nANGELs.!76\n\nBlossoms of gratitude,\nFlames of beatitude,\n\nLove they are bearing now,\nRapture preparing now,\n\nAs the heart may !\n\nTruth in its nearness,\n\nEther in clearness,\n\nGive the Eternal Hosts\nEverywhere Day!\n\nAct V. 413\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES,.\n\nO curse and shame upon such dolts be sped!\nEach Satan stands upon his head!\nIn somersaults the stout ones whirl and swerve,\nAnd into Hell plunge bottom-uppermost.\nNow may your bath be hot as you deserve !\nBut I remain, unflinching, at my post.\n\n| (Beating off the hovering roses.)\nOff, will-o'-the-wisps! Bright as ye seem to be,\nWhen caught, the vilest clinging filth are ye.\nWhy flutter thus? Off with you, quick ! —\nLike pitch and sulphur on my neck they stick.\n\nCuorus oF ANGELS.177\nWhat not appertaineth\nTo you, cease to share it!\nWhat inwardly paineth,\nRefuse ye to bear it!\nIf it press in with might,\nUse we our stronger right:\nLove but the Loving\nLeads to the Light!\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\n\nMy head, heart, liver, by the flames are rent!\n\nAI4 Faust.\n\nAn over-devilish element ! —\n\nSharper than Hell's red conflagration!\n\nThence so enormous is your lamentation,\nUnfortunate Enamored! who, so spurned,\n\nYour heads towards the sweethearts' side have turned.\nMine, too! What twists my head in like position?\nWith them am I not sworn to competition?\n\nThe sight of them once made my hatred worse.\nHath then an alien force transpierced my nature?\n\nI like to see them, youths of loveliest stature ;\nWhat now restrains me, that I dare not curse ? !78? —\nAnd if I take their cozening bait so,\n\nWho else, henceforth, the veriest fool will be?\n\nThe stunning fellows, whom I hate so,\n\nHow very charming they appear to me! —\n\nTell me, sweet children, ere I miss you,\n\nAre ye not of the race of Lucifer ?\n\nYou are so fair, forsooth, I'd like to kiss you;.\n\nIt seems to me as if ye welcome were.\n\nI feel as comfortable and as trustful,\n\nAs though a thousand times ere this we'd met!\n\nSo surreptitiously catlike-lustful :\n\nWith every glance ye're fairer, fairer yet.\n\nO, nearer come, — O, grant me one sweet look!\n\nAct V. 415\n\nANGELS.\n\nWe come! Why shrink? Canst not our presence brook?\n\nNow we approach: so, if thou canst, remain!\n\n(The ANGELS, coming forward, occupy the whole space.)\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES\n(who is crowded into the proscenium).\n\nUs, Spirits damned, you brand with censure,\nYet you are wizards by indenture ;\n\nFor man and woman, luring, you enchain. —\nWhat chance the curst adventure brings me?\n\nIs this Love's chosen element ?\n\nThe fire o'er all my body stings me;\n\nMy neck I scarcely feel, so hotly sprent. —\n\nYe hover back and forth; sink down and settle!\nMove your sweet limbs with more of worldly mettle!\nThe serious air befits you well, awhile,\n\nBut I should like, just once, to see you smile;\nThat were, for me, an everlasting rapture.\n\nI mean, as lovers look, the heart to capture;\nAbout the mouth a simper there must be.\nThee, tall one, as enticing I 'll admit thee;\n\nThe priestly mien does not at all befit thee,\n\nSo look at me the least bit wantonly !\n\nA16 Faust.\n\nYou might be nakeder, and modest made so:\nYour shirts' long drapery is over-moral. —\nThey turn! —and, from the rear surveyed so,\n\nWith their attraction there 's no need to quarrel!\n\nCuHorus oF ANGELS.\n\nLove still revealing,\nFlames, become clearer |!\nAll, cursed with error,\nTruth be their healing!\nGlad self-retrieval\n\nFree them from Evil,\n\nIn the all-folding Breast,\n\nBlessed, to rest!\n\nMepuisTopPHe es (collecting himself).\n\nHow is't with me? — Like Job, the boils have cleft me\nFrom head to foot, so that myself I shun;\n\nYet triumph also, when my self-inspection 's done, —\nWhen self and tribe I have confided in.\n\nThe noble Devil-parts, at least, are left me!\n\nThis love-attack 's a rash upon the skin.\n\nBurned out already are the scurvy fires,\n\nAnd one and all I damn you, as the case requires !\n\nAct V. ALY\n\nCuorus oF ANGELS.!79\n\nHallowed glories !\n\nRound whom they brood,\nWakes unto being\n\nOf bliss with the Good.\nJoin ye, the Glorified,\nRise to your goal!\n\nAirs are all purified, —\n\nBreathe now the Soul!\n\n(They rise, bearing away the immortal part of Faust.)\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES (looking around him).\n\nBut how ?— at once I find them failing !\nThis race of minors takes me by surprise!\nThey with their booty heavenwards are sailing ;\nThence on this grave they cast their greedy eyes!\nMy rare, great treasure they have peculated : |\nThe lofty soul, to me hypothecated,\nThey 've rapt away from me in cunning wise.\nBut unto whom shall I appeal for justice?\n~ Who would secure to me my well-earned right?\nTricked so in one's old days, a great disgust 1s ;\nAnd I deserve it, this infernal spite. |\nI've managed in a most disgraceful fashion ;\n\n418 Faust.\n\nA great investment has been thrown away :\nBy lowest lust seduced, and senseless passion,\nThe old, case-hardened Devil went astray.\nAnd if from all this childish-silly stuff\n\nHis shrewd experience could not wrest him,\nSo is, forsooth, the folly quite enough,\n\nWhich, in conclusion, hath possessed him.\n\nAct V. A1g\n\nVII.\nMOUNTAIN-GORGES, FOREST, ROCK, DESERT.\nHoty Ancuoritess, 3!",
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