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137

CLASSICAL WALPURGIS NIGHT.

Pharsalian Fields—Darkness.
Erichtho.
To this night's shuddering festival, as oftentimes ere now,
Once more I come, once more, Erichtho, I the gloomy,
Not quite the hideous hag o'erslandering poets picture—
Their praise and blame is ever in the Infinite.
Already o'er the vale, in shadowy undulation,
Roll glimmering before mine eye what seem to be gray tents,
Spread wavelike far and wide: phantomy reappearance
Of that all-anxious night—dread night of deepest sorrow.
How oft doth it repeat itself!—how oft to be repeated!
Evermore and for ever! None of his own free will

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Yields empire to another; none to him
Who by strength gained it, who by strength would govern.
Who cannot rule his inner self would fain his neighbour's will
Strain to the stubborn measure of his own proud thoughts.
In these fields, by armed hosts, in conflict and in conquest,
Memorably was it exemplified.
Force 'gainst superior force for mortal strife is marshalled;
Freedom's fair wreath, rich with its thousand flowers,
Breaks. The still laurel bends to crown the ruler's brow.
Here Magnus saw in dreams the unforgotten day
Of earlier greatness spreading into glorious blossom;
Cæsar lay sleepless there, and watched the wavering balance—
And they will measure strengths. The world knows who prevailed.
Watchfires burn bright, diffusing their red beams around—
The soil breathes up, in crimson stain, blood, outpoured here of old:

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And by its strange glare, streaming far thro' the night's magic brightness,
Allured, the legion gathers of Hellenic story.
Round every fire flit with uncertain glimmer,
Or rest at ease, some of the fabulous shapings
Of the days of old. The moon, not yet at full,
But bright, uprising now spreads over all
A softening lustre mild. The phantom tents
Are gone. Illusion fades off. Fires burn blue.
But over me what a strange sudden Meteor!
It guides, and with its light illumes, a ball
Corporeal. I scent life! 'twould ill beseem
Me, to life noxious, to be near the living.
'Twould bring me ill repute, and profit me
Nothing. Already it sinks down. 'Twill land
Here. Ere it touch the ground I move away.

[Exit.
Moonlight. Homunculus, Mephistopheles, Griffins, Colossal Ants, Arimaspians, Sphinxes, Sirens, &c.
The Aeronauts seen above, before they have descended.
Homunculus.
Sweep o'er flames and sights of horror
Once again in circling flight!
Spectral shapes through gorge and valley
Flit in the phantasmal light.


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Mephistopheles.
Spectres, hideous as the phantoms
That I gazed on from the gloom
Of that drear old Northern window!
Here I feel almost at home.

Homunculus.
See, with rapid steps before us,
A tall female figure stride!

Mephistopheles.
As through air she saw us gliding,
She retreated terrified.

Homunculus.
Let her stride on! think not of her!
Set the ritter on the ground;
Here in the charmed land of Fable,
Will the life he seeks be found.

[They descend.
Faustus
(touching the ground).
Where is She?

Homunculus.
That I cannot say;
But here would seem the very place t'inquire.
No time to lose! from fire to fire,
Pursue the chase till break of day.
He, who has dared the adventure of the Mothers,
Has little reason to fear any others.


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Mephistopheles.
I've my own objects here, and our best play.
It strikes me, for the good of us all three,
Is that each take his own course, and that we
Among the fires, as fancy guides us, stray.
'Tis so much pleasanter when one pursues
His own adventures just as he may choose.
And, small chap, when 'tis time to reunite,
Let chime your glass, let flare and flash your light.

Homunculus
(the glass rings and shines out wonderfully).
Thus shall it ring—thus flash forth ray on ray.
Now to the scene of wonders haste away!

[They separate.
Faustus
(alone).
Where is She? why ask where?
If it be not the sod, on which her feet
Trod, and the wave that beat
To welcome her, it is the air
That spoke her language. Here! and I am here—
In her own Greece, miraculously here!
I felt at once the earth on which I stood—
In sleep there came a Spirit that through my blood

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Poured, as it were, the fire of burning levin.
Now, like Antæus, as I touch the ground,
I find the strength of inspiration given,
Roam this wild maze of fires with happy cheer
Where all things strangest are together found.

[Withdraws.
Mephistopheles
(prying about).
At every step, as 'mong these fires I roam,
I find myself still less and less at home.
What an odd crowd of creatures brought together!—
Bird's claws, dog's paws, men's faces, fleece, fur, feather.
Their decency is little sure to brag on—
Most of them naked! here and there a rag on!
The Sphinxes unabashed, the Griffins shameless,
Making no secret of what should be nameless.
We all are rakes at heart—each likes a touch of it;
But the Antique, to my taste, has too much of it:
It is too life-like—dealers with old story
Are never at a loss for allegory.
And so with the Antique, we too should cover it,
Find one thing or another to paste over it.
A nasty set, I'll never know them rightly;
A stranger should, however, speak politely.
Hail! Ladies fair! Hail! Very Reverend
Gray-beards!


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Griffins
(gruffly).
What! means the fellow to offend?
Gray beard, or Gray bird, what does he think to say?
My name is Griffin—do not call me Gray:
Gray! bird or beast, none likes to be called Gray.
Gray-beard, forsooth! However far they range,
Words ring their origin in every change;
In ‘gray,’ ‘grief,’ ‘graveyard,’ ‘grim,’ and each such sound,
The thought, etymologically bound,
Offends, puts the best temper out of tune.

Mephistopheles.
And yet, not to give in to you too soon,
The ‘gri’ in Griffin, your own honoured name,
Is not unpleasing.

Griffins
(in the same tone).
Aye, and for the same
Reason; the kindred thought you still can trace—
Our ‘gri’ is grip or grasp—we grasp at place
And honours, grasp at kingdoms, girls and gold:
Nor we alone—though some affect to blame,
In practice 'tis the universal game.
Fortune still aids the Griffin, Grasper bold.


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Colossal Ants.
Gold!—Said you Gold? laboriously we plied,
And heaps of it had grubbed, and sought to hide
In cave and crannied rock far out of sight;
Our hoarded gold the Arimaspians eyed,
Made off with it—and, proud of their success,
Look at them laughing there at our distress!

Griffins.
Be at ease—we'll bring the rascals to confession.

Arimaspians.
But not to-night; not this free festival night:
Ours for the nonce is undisturbed possession,
And ere the morning 'twill have vanished quite.

Mephistopheles
(who has placed himself between the Sphinxes).
Here is a spot that I can cotton to!
At home quite,—I so understand them all!

Sphinxes.
We breathe our Spirit tones—by you
They are made Corporeal.
By and bye we may know something more of you;
But now just tell us what's your name? pray do.


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Mephistopheles.
Name? Men are fond of giving names to me,
And thus it is I've many a name. Let's see—
Are any Britons here? No doubt there are,
And they will vouch for me. They travel far
To visit fields of battle, waterfalls,
Your dreary classic ruins, broken walls.
This were the very place for such as they;
They will bear witness how in the old play
They saw me there as Old Iniquity.

Sphinx.
Why so called?

Mephistopheles.
'Tis a mystery to me.

Sphinx.
Likely enough. Know you anything of the power
Of the stars? What says the aspect of the hour?

Mephistopheles
(looking up).
Star after star shoots fast and far, and bright
And sharp shines down the crescent moon to-night.
Here in this comfortable spot and snug,
I'll nestle close to your warm lion-rug:
Go farther and fare worse.—To climb up would
Be dangerous, in no case do much good.
Out with a riddle—I've some small skill in
Riddles—or tip me a charade,—begin.


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Sphinx.
Thyself—take that—there were a riddle indeed.
The strange enigma shall we try to read?
‘Needful alike to good man and to bad,
Target, the ascetic's zeal to test and prove,
Accomplice in mad projects of the mad,
At all times nothing but a jest to Jove?’

First Griffin
(snarling).
I do not like him—what a face!

Second Griffin
(snarling more gruffly).
The rascal does not know his place;
He's none of ours—what brings him here?

Both.
A vile beast!—nothing good, I fear.

Mephistopheles
(brutally).
Aye, pretty treatment of a guest, because
You think his nails can't scrape like your sharp claws.
Let's try them.

Sphinx
(mildly).
If you like it, you may stay;
But you'll be off soon—are on thorns to go;
—And yet such suitor for a lady's grace
Is pretty sure at home to make his way.
Here you seem out of spirits, out of place.


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Mephistopheles.
I'm half in love,—admire your upper show
Of woman,—shudder at the Beast below.

Sphinx.
Liar! for this you'll suffer—scoffing thus—
Our claws are sound and sharp, we'd have you know—
The shrivelled horse-shank! he! too good for us!

[Sirens are heard preluding from above.
Mephistopheles.
And the Birds yonder on the poplar bough
That rock them to and fro, say, what are they?

Sphinx.
Beware! beware!—the Siren's song ere now
Hath lured the wisest and the best away.

Sirens
(singing).
Where no Beauty is, why linger?
'Mong these strange shapes wherefore dwell?
Listen!—hither, grouped together,
We have come, and time our voices
As beseemeth Sirens well.

Sphinxes
(mocking and mimicking them).
Force them from the branches green,
Where their falcon claws they screen;

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Fear to lend a listening ear
To their song! their talons fear!

Sirens.
Hate and Envy—hence begone!
All the joys, that Nature scatters
Over earth and over waters,
Ours to gather into one.
Ever in our welcomings
Still is seen the best, the ‘gayest,
Happiest attitude of things.’

Mephistopheles
(mimicking)
These are their new and pretty things.
From the throat and from the strings
Tone round tone still winds and weaves.
This thrilling is all lost on me,
Tickles the ear,—the heart, left free,
Nothing of the song receives.

Sphinxes.
Heart! why a leathern bag fills up the place
Of heart with you, as shrivelled as your face!

Faustus
(stepping forward).
How wonderful all here! Strange spectacle!
But not unpleasing—nay, it augurs well.

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In these repulsive aspects, oh, what vast
Features of power! what alien grandeur massed!
Gazing on them, my hopes anticipate,
And feel even now a favourable fate.
To what far distant days—what far-off lands—
This deep glance bears me!—
(Pointing to the Sphinxes.)
Before such as these
Œdipus stood—
And before such as these
(Pointing to the Sirens.)
Ulysses crouched him down in hempen bands.—
(To the Colossal Ants.)
Such were the far-famed gatherers of gold!—
(To the Griffins.)
These guarded it in firm and faithful hold.
New life thrills through me as I gaze on these.
Forms! Oh, how grand!—How grand the Memories!

Mephistopheles.
Such erewhile you'd have scouted; but at present
They seem to you delectable and pleasant.
When a man's amorous, and has in chase
The girl he wants, no monster's out of place.

Faustus
(to the Sphinxes).
Shapes, that seem Woman, Ye must answer me:
Have any of you seen Helen? Where is She?


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Sphinxes.
Seen Helen?—we? We reach not to her days.
The last of us was killed by Hercules.
From Cheiron you, perhaps, may make it out;
He's pretty surely galloping about
In this wild spirit-night;—catch him who can—
It is no easy task: but he's your man.

Sirens.
Oh, go not from us!—go not from us!
Heed not what old fablers say
Of Ulysses onward speeding
From the Sirens of the bay.
With us he, in sweet repose,
Loitered long, and legends many
Had we of the times of Troy.
All to thee will we disclose,
All confide to thee with joy,
Dearer thou to us than any!
Come! oh, come! the glad green sea
Longs, with us, to welcome thee!

Sphinxes.
Oh! let them not delude thy noble mind.
As ropes Ulysses, let our counsel bind
Thee! If the mighty Cheiron thou dost find,
'Twill prove us right.

[Exit Faustus.

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Mephistopheles
(fretfully).
What's that croaks by in flapping flight?
'Tis gone too quick to catch the sight!
One—two—three—ten,—like shadows past,—
Who thinks to catch them must fly fast.

Sphinxes.
Swift as the winter tempest these,
Swift as the darts of Hercules;
They are the Stymphalides.
Their vulture-beak and gander-foot
Look well; but that is as one thinks.
Their croak is meant for a salute.
These Croakers say they're cousins: count the links
Between them and the family of Sphinx.

Mephistopheles
(seeming terrified).
Beside the Croakers, there's some other stuff,
Hissing abominably—

Sphinx.
Like enough.
You—scared at hissing!—nothing, sure, in this.
They're always hissing who can only hiss.
These are the heads of the Lernæan snake,
Cut from the main stump off. What airs they take
On the strength of the separation!—shine as proudly
As the old serpent, and they hiss as loudly.

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But what are you now about? This restlessness,
These gestures of such comical distress!
What do you want, what is't you would express?
Off with you! How his neck turns round awry—
Oh! now I see what has so caught his eye.
Don't think of us. He's off! They're pretty faces,
No doubt of it; but have done with these grimaces.
The group of Lamiæ—smart girls—no great matter
Of beauty—bold fronts—red lips—smiles that flatter,
And looks that have allurements for a Satyr.
The goat-foot's sure to win such ladies' grace.

Mephistopheles.
When I return shall you be in this place?

Sphinx.
Thou and they may sport and play,
—Airy shapes, that pass away;
From Egypt we—and one of us is known
For a full thousand years on the same throne.
On our position fix your earnest gaze;
We rule the Lunar—rule the Solar days.
We sit before the Pyramids, we see
Judgment done upon the Nations,
War, and Peace, and Inundations.
Change of feature none know We.

 

Akenside.