 | Faust |  |
37
SCENE I
Scene.—An open square in a mediæval German city. On one side is a tavern with table set beside the door, round which a group of Students are seated, and with them one or two Soldiers in armour. On the other side are the steps of the Cathedral.[The Scene opens with Students' Song.
Song
Up, nightingale, and wake my dear,
Hi! Bird—Ho! Bird!
The lattice opens, thy love is near,
Hi! Bird—Ho! Bird!
Nay, who is that who clambers down?
'Tis the veriest knave in all the town,
But thy kiss hath cost him a broken crown
With a Hi! Bird—Ho!
[A roll of the drum is heard off L.
Brander.
Enough of thy cracked tuning!
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comrades?
1st Soldier.
Truly 'tis time to join our
troop.
Frosch.
Well, here's to all men of valour
who go forth to war!
Altmayer.
And to all valorous men who
sit at home and sing of victory!
Siebel.
Nay, in war-time your student
counts for little, drink as deep as he may. I
can boast it that I have as pretty a way with
women as any man in all the city, yet have
I been vilely deceived.
Brander.
And look you where she goes
with yon bearded warrior by her side!
Altmayer.
Alack! 'tis true. Would I
had been a soldier: it should have fitted me
well.
Brander.
Dost hear him? Why, old
butter-tub, there is not enough steel in all
Augsburg to make a case for thy belly.
Altmayer.
Yet had I the wit to fall in
battle, 'tis like I should win a maid's kiss at
the last.
Siebel.
Ay, when there was nought left of
thee but a blown carcase beneath the moon.
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Truly that must be thought of!
When all's said, the wine-cup makes the safest
kissing, and drink, not love, is your wiser
beverage.
[A Troop of Soldiers enter, followed by a Crowd of Town Folk. The Soldiers who had been drinking join them, and all move off to the sound of the drum.
Frosch.
Is Valentine not among them?
Siebel.
No, he's for the next troop—and,
look you, here he comes!
Altmayer.
Then here's a flagon for him,
and for all, and at my account! We shall drink
deep to serve him.
Brander.
[Looking off.]
Have a care,
old waggle-tongue. He hath his sister Margaret
with him, who loves not ribaldry.
Altmayer.
Nay, then we'll drink deep but
dumb.
[There is a sort of hush upon the revellers as Valentine and Margaret enter from R. above the revellers. The music is heard from the Church and Citizens pass behind them, ascending the steps of the Cathedral.
Margaret.
Must you go now?
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I must, dear Margaret;
That beating drum forewarns me.
Margaret.
Then good-bye!
There'll be no hour I shall not think of thee,
No day at dawn I shall not pray for thee.
Valentine.
And I, dear sister, shall for ever keep
Thine image next my heart. Once as I trudged
Across our snows in winter, all my thought
Sped backward to a little lonely flower
That decked the spring. So it shall be again!
Beneath War's thunder skies where'er I go
I'll think of thee the whitest flower of all.
[The drum draws nearer.
My troop draws near.
Margaret.
I cannot see thee go,
But there within, before the Virgin's shrine,
I'll pray that Heaven may yield thee safe once more.
Good-bye!
Valentine.
Good-bye!
[The music within swells as Margaret enters the door, and at the same time the beating drum draws nearer. Valentine pauses on the steps of the Cathedral, looking
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Altmayer.
Come, Valentine, there's time
and place for just one draught!
Siebel.
And just one toast!
Valentine.
Most willingly! Here's to
you all!
Altmayer.
And to thee, good Valentine;
and a speedy return from the war with
just wounds enough to win a tear from thy
sweetheart.
Frosch.
Ay, name her to us! Thou hast
kept her hidden till now. That shall be our
toast.
Valentine.
When I find her 'twill be time
enough to name her. Sweetheart have I
none. Such sport is for idle dogs who lag
at home. A soldier's sweetheart is his
sword.
Altmayer.
Yet a toast there must be, else
there's no cause for drinking.
Brander.
[To Valentine.]
Pray you
take pity on him, poor soul, for he would
fain drink.
Valentine.
Well, then, here's to my sister
Margaret; and he who has the worth to
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city.
[As they drink the Troop comes on to the stage, and Valentine rises to join them.
Valentine.
Farewell, comrades! Have a
care to leave just one bottle for my return.
Brander.
'Twill surely be no more than
one, if old Altmayer lives so long!
[Amid general laughter and shouting of farewell, the Troop marches off, Valentine with them, to the sound of the drum.
[As the Soldiers go off and the Crowd disperses, Faust and Mephistopheles have entered and stand at the foot of the Cathedral steps.
Faust.
There goes a gallant soldier to the war!
Mephistopheles.
Ay, to be spitted on a friendly pike
And so win death or glory, haply both.
In truth, good Doctor, 'tis most fortunate
That our first upward flight should land us here,
For in this little life is mirrored all.
Those weeping maids who whisper fond farewells
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Ere the day dies. So here in brief you see
Both love and glory, Life's twin fading dreams.
[Pointing to Cathedral.
And here are those who pray, then quit the shrine
To sin again that they may pray again,
Body and soul still chasing one another
Like kittens who would seek to catch their tails.
Faust.
[Pointing to revellers.]
And there, what life is there?
Mephistopheles.
The best of all.
Such wine-butts are your true philosophers,
Who neither pray, nor dream, nor fight, nor love,
But pass from cup to cup to life's last goal.
Faust.
Poor sodden fools! Is this in truth life's goal?
Mephistopheles.
Nay, not for thee. I do but show thee here
How mortals fare who lack the Devil's aid.
Our feast is better ordered. But meanwhile
We'll board these roisterers. Good morrow, sir!
[To Frosch.]
Siebel.
[To Altmayer.]
Who are these gallants?
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Nobly born, be sure,
For so their garments speak them.
Brander.
Nobly born!
More like poor mountebanks who ply their trade
In borrowed plumes.
Mephistopheles.
[To Faust.]
There are some folk, you'll find,
Who never know the Devil when they see him.
Faust.
Fair greeting, gentlemen!
Siebel.
You come from far?
Mephistopheles.
Lately from Spain, that land of wine and song.
Altmayer.
Said I not so?
Frosch.
I'll board them, you shall see!
Didst chance to meet my noble cousin there?
Mephistopheles.
Ay, the Court fool! He had the same pork face,
And slobbered at the lips as thou dost now.
Altmayer.
A shrewd stroke that! He had thee there, sweet Frosch!
Wouldst join us in a drink?
Mephistopheles.
Your pardon, sir,
I only drink the best.
Brander.
That's one for thee!
Our friend is set on drinking: if naught else,
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So that it burns his throat, he hath no care
To name the vintage.
Mephistopheles.
Time may come, perhaps,
When he shall find a liquor to his liking;
I know the cellar where it waits for him.
Meanwhile, if so you please, we'll broach a cask
Of something worth the tasting.
Altmayer.
Willingly!
Go, call the landlord.
Mephistopheles.
Nay, sir, let him be.
I own a richer store than he can boast of.
Give me a gimlet.
Altmayer.
Yonder one there lies
Within that basket. Look you, noble sir,
We want no scanty sample just to taste,
But full and brimming measure.
Mephistopheles.
[Boring hole in table.]
Give it a name.
Altmayer.
I'm local in my cups and patriotic—
Rhenish for me!
Frosch.
Have you so many kinds?
Mephistopheles.
Call what you will. I'm here to serve all tastes.
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This is some juggler's trick.
Mephistopheles.
A little wax
To serve as stoppers. Quick, old pot-belly,
That none be wasted. Now, good sir, your choice.
Brander.
Champagne, if you can yield it.
Mephistopheles.
[To Faust.]
Mark you that,
Your cultured patriot calls an alien brand
And fills his Prussian paunch with Gallic wine.
Siebel.
I crave for something luscious!
Mephistopheles.
Then for you
We'll broach this old Tokay. And you, good sir?
Student.
I'll name the vintage when I see it flow.
This knave doth fool us all!
Mephistopheles.
Say you so?
Then draw the stoppers forth and drink your fill.
[They hold their glasses and the wine flows.
Siebel.
Most wonderful!
Altmayer.
This is a happy day.
Mephistopheles.
Yet have a care no droppings from your glass—
[Altmayer lets his glass fall and the wine turns to flame.
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Help! Help! The flames of Hell!
Mephistopheles.
No, no!
A touch of Purgatory—nothing more.
[Siebel has drawn another stopper and fire flies in his face.
Siebel.
He uses some vile magic. Out on him!
Brander.
'Tis witchcraft! Strike him down! We'll none of it!
[They draw their knives on Mephistopheles.
Mephistopheles
Snare their senses, close their eyes,
Bear them hence to Southern skies.
[They draw back in a trance.
Siebel.
What land is this?
Brander.
A land of milk and honey.
Altmayer.
With luscious purple grapes on every bough.
Brander.
[Seizing Altmayer's nose.]
Here hangs a glorious bunch that needs but cutting!
[He puts his knife to Altmayer's nose.
Frosch.
And here another!
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This is best of all!
Mephistopheles.
Now see them change again, while 'neath this cloak
We stand invisible.
End their dream and ope their eyes,
Lead them back from Southern skies!
Lead them back from Southern skies!
Frosch.
Why, what is this?
Where are those vines?
Siebel.
In truth we've been bewitched.
Brander.
[To Altmayer.]
I took thy nose to be a purple grape.
Mephistopheles.
[Aside.]
No wonder, for
the vine hath painted it!
Altmayer.
And so I deemed was thine.
Siebel.
[To Frosch.]
And thine.
Frosch.
[To Siebel.]
And thine.
Mephistopheles.
[Aside.]
Poor fools! Begone! the Devil's jest is ended.
Siebel.
Whither hath he fled?
Altmayer.
Methought I saw him ride
Over yon steeple on a butt of wine.
Brander.
Were the knave here, I'd cleave his head in twain!
Mephistopheles.
[Aside.]
Go, braggart, ere I spit thee on a skewer.
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Let's go within. There's something in the air
That freezes all my marrow.
Altmayer.
Ay, within!
There's hiding in the cellar. Drink's the cure!
For witchcraft drink's your sovereign remedy.
[They go into the house like men dazed. A laugh from Mephistopheles.
Faust.
Let's quit the place; these drunkards sicken me.
[Music from Church.
Mephistopheles.
Nay, hark! the mass is ended. Wait awhile.
Prayer's a provocative and ofttimes sets
The senses newly itching.
[They begin to stream out of Church.
See you there
That buxom housewife on her husband's arm?
Last night she kissed the butcher 'neath the elm
That shades their garden patch. Yon prentice youth
With sheeplike eyes that ever seek the ground,
Can boast of more than his indentures warrant.
Ask of his master's daughter, she can tell thee!
And that pale priest who but an hour ago
Confessed a maiden who will ne'er confess
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Would seem to mount toward Heaven!
[Margaret has come from the Church and stands at the head of the steps as she gives a flower to a child. Faust's gaze has been riveted upon her during the Devil's speech.
Faust.
Enough, enough!
[He advances towards Margaret.
Fair lady, let me see you to your door?
Margaret.
I am no lady, sir, nor am I fair,
And have no need of escort on my way.
[She passes across and off.
Faust.
By Heaven, how beautiful! In all the world
Dwells not her equal. Fresh and sweet and pure
As the first flower of spring that greets the snow,
Yet with red lips that ripen for a kiss
Those downcast eyelids still refuse to yield.
Ah! could I win that maid!
Mephistopheles.
What maid is that?
Faust.
She who but now passed by. Look where she goes.
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Mephistopheles.
Oh, that young thing! She's lately from confession.
I stood beside her whilst the greasy priest
Absolved her of her sins, for she has none.
I would you had looked higher: these fledgling buds
Take far more plucking than a full-blown rose.
Faust.
There is no higher, nay, nor none so high.
Mephistopheles.
[Aside.]
The scentless perfume of pure innocence
Works like a poison in the air I breathe,
Its very frailty saps all my powers.
[To Faust.]
I could have set the fairest at thy feet,
Disrobed an Empress but to serve thy sport,
Or sacked the centuries to yield thee back
Dead Queens whose beauty wrecked an elder world.
Yet with this feast outspread thou needs must choose
A wind-flower from the hedgerow. Think again!
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My choice lies there; naught else I care to win.
Yield to my arms this image of delight
Or count our bargain ended.
Mephistopheles.
Not so fast!
The thing needs time, that's all!—and strategy.
Faust.
Time! that's a mortal's plea: it fits thee not.
It needs thy will—no more. Be swift and sure.
Bear me some token that shall speak of her—
A kerchief from her breast,—I care not what!
Then lead me where she dwells—
Mephistopheles.
Nay, sir, not yet!
The day is still a-dying. When the moon
Peeps through her lattice—that's love's fitting hour.
Faust.
Meanwhile I need some gift to bear to her.
Mephistopheles.
A good thought that! The purest maiden's soul
Yields to the treacherous lure of glittering stones.
I know a hidden treasure hereabouts,
Left by a miser who went mad and died.
We'll pick and choose from out his buried store.
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There's something here I like not. Come away!
| Faust | |