University of Virginia Library

ACT IV.

Summit of the Brocken.
Witches fly across.
Faust and Mephistopheles climbing.
Mephis.
Dost thou not wish thou hadst a broomstick, friend?
I wish I had a tough he-goat to ride.
Hark! to the crashing woods!
The affrighted owls are on the wing;
Oohoo! Shoohoo! Oohoo! Shoohoo!
Cling to my cloak—fear nothing. See
The blaze of Mammon stretch'd in tented fires.
Bravely illumined is his festal palace.
Thou art in luck to-night—Lo!
The invited guests approach, a boisterous rabble!

Faust.
The tempest raves around—it dims my sight
And fiercely beats on me.

Mephis.
Hold fast—lest thou be hurled in the abyss.
The night with mist is black—
The forest boughs are at wild wrestle.
Hark to the voices, up the wind they come
With their mad witching song!

Witches
in chorus.
The witches ride to the Brocken's top—
The stubble is yellow and green the crop.

Enter 1st Witch, meeting 2nd Witch.
1st Witch.
Which way comest thou hither?

2nd Witch.
Over the Ilsen stone;
I peeped at the owl in her nest alone.

Witches.
The way is weary, the way is long,
See what a wild and crazy throng.

Wizards.
We crawl along like a snail in shell,
Before us go the women—but then,
In travelling down the road to hell,
We back the women to beat the men.

Wizard
above.
Come on, come on, from Rocky Lake!

Both Choruses.
The wind is hushed, the stars shoot by,
The dreary moon forsakes the sky,
The magic notes like spark on spark
Drizzle whistling through the dark.

3rd Witch
below.
Halt there! ho, there!

4th Witch
above.
Who calls from the rocky cleft below there?

Enter 3rd Witch.
Oh, take me! I'm full of aches and fears,
I'm climbing now three hundred years,
I cannot go on, and I cannot stop,
And I think I'll never reach the top.

Both Choruses.
The broom and the branch in the air will float,
And a goodly steed is an old buck goat;
He who cannot find mount to-night
Can never join in the witches' flight.

3rd Witch.
I totter alone and stumble—Alack!
In passing they pushed me and pinched me and clawed.
At home I cannot find rest for my back,
And now I cannot get peace abroad.

Both Choruses.
Witches' salve is good to cure;
A rag will answer for a sail;
The trough a goodly ship and sure;
They'll never fly who whine and quail.

[They settle down.
Mephis.
What a crowding, pushing, squealing!
What a roaring, grinning, screaming!
Whirl! leap and chatter! shine and spirt!
Give us the true witch element!
Where art thou?

Faust.
(in the distance).
Here.

Mephis.
What, art thou whirled so far away?
Am I thy host or lacquey. Clear the way!

Faust.
Better the airy summit I must own
Than is a stew of fire and smoke.
They seek the Evil One—He is too near!
How many riddles, there, might find solution.

Mephis.
Aye, riddles tangled in a hundred knots,
And when untangled—worthless.
Let the great world pursue its course, we'll tarry here.

Faust.
What are the figures yonder doing,
As round a gibbet in their filthy rags?

Mephis.
Heed them not, they brew some hellish mess.

Faust.
See how they move, with soundless tread,
As flit the bats—ah, yonder, yonder!
Alone and far a girl most pale and fair,
With slow and trailing feet she comes to us,
Methinks—'tis—Margaret!

Mephis.
Illusion! Heed it not—born of a dream.
It is a frenzy—lifeless phantasy.
Avoid its stare—'twill work upon thy blood,
Thy brain, 'twill make thee mad.

Faust.
Those eyes have ne'er been closed by loving hands.
Dead!—Yet those the lips I once have pressed,
That is the form I clasped.—

Mephis.
Fool, 'tis but magic!

Faust.
Ah! what means that slender scarlet line
Around her throat—no broader than a knife.
Margaret!—Margaret!

[Thunder.
[Sudden darkness.
Mephis.
The curse of hell upon it! Vanish!
Now music wild, hellish, infernal, and then mad!

[Mad dance.