 | Faust |  |
3
ACT I
Scene.—A gloomy, narrow Gothic chamber.[Faust at his desk, restless. Midnight.
Faust.
Alas! What boots it to have mastered now
Philosophy, Medicine, even Theology,
With unremitting zeal and toil unceasing?
Lo! here I sit no wiser than before.
True! I can lead my scholars by the nose;
They hail me master, doctor, fawn on me,
But I, I know how deep is my defeat,
I only know that nothing can be known.
[A pause.
And urged by this insane and desert thirst,
What have I missed! All honour, rank, and wealth,
Even the thrill of kisses and of wine.
Science, farewell! To Magic now I turn;
From Magic I may wring some secret yet,
4
[Moonlight floods the room.
O thou full moon, whom I so many a night
Have watched ascending! Would that thou didst gaze
For the last time upon my trouble! Ah,
If now no longer stifling amid books,
I in thine argent twilight floated free!
But no, this dungeon-lumber I behold,
A self-created prison of mould and dust,
Where God His pulsing human creature set.
I dwell but with the dead—in what a world!
[He turns to the Magic book.
Here is my way of freedom: here the sign
Of the Earth-Spirit. How dost thou invade me!
How like new wine thou runnest in my veins!
The woe of Earth, the bliss of Earth invite me.
The lamp goes out—a horror from the roof
Descends on me. Spirit, reveal thyself!
I feel thee suck my soul, absorb my heart,—
I'll look on thee, although my life it cost me.
[He seizes the book and pronounces the sign of the Earth-Spirit.
5
Spirit.
Who calls me?
Faust.
Terrible to look on!
Spirit.
Me
Hast thou with might attracted from my sphere.
Faust.
Woe! I endure not thee!
Spirit.
Yet didst thou long
To gaze on me: thy yearning drew me down.
Where art thou, Faust? whose strong voice pierced to me?
Is't thee I see—this terror-stricken worm?
Faust.
I fear no more—I am Faust—I am thy peer!
Spirit.
Thou art like the Spirit which thou comprehendest,
Not me!
[Spirit disappears.
Faust.
Not thee! I, image of the God-head!
[A knock.
Death! At this moment this poor witless wretch
Disturbs me, teasing me from the full vision!
[Enter Wagner with a lamp.
Wagner.
Surely, you read some old Greek tragedy:
I heard the declamation—and a preacher
They say might learn from a comedian.
6
[Irritably.]
Yes, when the preacher, as the case is often,
Is in himself a born comedian.
Wagner.
I've studied long to be an orator.
Faust.
Studied! What use! unless heart speaks to heart?
If children's monkey's gaze be to your taste,
Then be content! 'Tis all that study gives you.
Read, read! and stand a tinkling fool at last.
Wagner.
Ah, God! but art is long, and life is short,
And then to die, so many books unscanned!
Faust.
Is parchment thy sole fount of inspiration?
Is this the draught that slakes th' eternal thirst?
Wagner.
And yet to apprehend the mighty world!
Faust.
Those few who apprehended it at all
And dared to bare their breasts unto the brand,
Have evermore been burned or crucified.
And now, good-night!
Wagner.
Much have I learnt already;
To know all I aspire.
Faust.
Aspire—and go!
[Exit Wagner.
He never need despair who clings to trash.
7
And when I flung those bitter words at him
'Twas at myself I railed. It seemed indeed
As if my past life mocked me in his words!
Dust, dust, and ashes!
[He sinks dejectedly on a chair.
Ah, that Spirit splendid!
He with a thunder word swept me away.
I am no god. Deep in my heart I feel it,
I am a worm beneath the wanderer's feet.
Grin on, thou skull! thy brain was once as mine.
[Gazing around, his eye is caught by a gleaming flask.
Why dost thou lure me so, thou gleaming goblet,
Drawing me like a magnet? Seeing thee
The stings of pain diminish, struggle ends.
The air glows now like moonlight in a forest,
I see a dreaming ocean and new shores.
Shall I unlock the one door left to me
And, draining this deep draught of slumber juices,
Venture on death, although I sleep for ever?
Come down, then, from thy shelf, thou flask of crystal.
How often at old banquets didst thou pass
From hand to hand, gladding the solemn guests!
Now to a neighbour never shall I pass thee.
8
Hail to the morn! I drink my final cup.
[He sets the cup to his lips when there is heard a chime of Easter Bells and a Choral Song.
Christ is arisen!
Hail the joyful morn!
The tomb He hath broken,
Our bonds He hath shattered,
Death is defeated.
Faust.
[Setting down the cup.]
I cannot drink: the ancient music holds me.
And the remembered bells of Easter morn.
Chorus
Christ is ascended:
Bliss hath invested Him,
Our woe He hath ended.
Faust.
Once on my childish brow the Sabbath stillness
Fell like the kiss of Heaven: mystical bells
And prayer dissolved my yearning soul in bliss.
Sound on, ye hymns of Heaven! ye sacred bells!
The old tear starts! Earth has her child again.
[A pause
But I shall ne'er regain the ancient rapture,
9
Firing the peaceful vales and mountain peaks,
And some eternal longing came on me
To flee away and up! as over crag
And piney headland slow the eagle soared,
And past me sailed the crane to other shores.
But now not only childhood shattered lies,
But manhood, too, is sold for a barren dream.
Ah! now those fleeting songs I would recall
Which I despised; the feast, the lips of women,
The brief yet luring hours all lost to me.
Only the cup is left.
[He again takes the cup and again pauses.
And yet, and yet,
One power I ne'er invoked I might invoke.
Seeking the Light I called not upon Darkness.
Spirit of Chaos, now to thee I turn.
The choice before me lies of Death or Hell,—
Death that leads on to sleep, or Hell that yields,
That riot of the blood my soul hath spurned.
I cry to God: the vacant Heavens are dumb;
He answers not. On Evil then I call.
I will not die; I'll risk the eternal woe
So I be rapt into the whirl of sense.
Ye elemental spirits four,
Fire and Water, Earth and Air,
10
I bid ye hither! Beware! Beware!
[He raises the sign of the Hexagon.
Salamander! by thy name
I call thee from thy haunt of flame,
Fair Undine, whose sea-worn home
Lies beneath the circling foam,
Sylph whose feet have found their way
Through the viewless fields of day,
And thou poor gnome who evermore
Art tied and tethered at Earth's core,
I here command ye! Yield unto my sight
From out the dusky cohorts of the night
The Spirit of the Dark who dreads the Light.
[A flame leaps in the hollow of the chimney, and from the risen vapour that follows the flame the form of Mephistopheles gradually emerges.
Faust.
What art thou? Speak!
Mephistopheles.
A part of that fell power
Which ever seeking ill, yet makes for good.
Faust.
Some riddle doth lurk here! Yield up thy name.
Mephistopheles.
My name? I am the Spirit that denies.
11
That are, are naught or should be turned to naught.
This whirling planet issuing from the void,
Teeming with empty life, I would consign
Unto the void once more. There where I ruled
A part of Primal night that knew no dawn—
Prince of the darkness that brought forth the light!
Now, all-conceiving, all-consuming Night
Hath lost her ancient place. The upstart Day
Disputes her throne. Yet not for ever so!
For Dawn and Day have but their place in Time,
And shall as surely yield that place again
When earth's poor spawn have spent their little hour
And timeless Night resumes her larger sway.
Meanwhile for lighter sport I tread the earth,
Tormenting those I may not yet destroy.
Faust.
Strange son of Chaos, now I know thee well.
Mephistopheles.
Yet when all's said there's little left to boast of!
This poor blind mole o' the world, howe'er I shake it,
12
Hath a dull way of settling down again
Most heart-breaking to one who loves his trade.
And even mankind, my latest perquisite,
Proves a poor plaything. Though I kill 'em off
Like flies in jelly, myriads at a stroke,
They breed again before my back is turned.
Then all's to do once more, a weary toil!
Look where I may there's naught but birth and life
From Water, Earth, and Air for ever teeming;
And were it not for a poor modest crib
Lit by a flick of flame that still is mine—
That last red rod in pickle down below—
I'd quit the business straight. But there, enough!
An egotist makes but a sorry devil,
So now for your commands!
Faust.
Nay, I have none;
My prayer half-uttered dies upon my lips.
Mephistopheles.
Good Doctor, not so fast; ere night shall fall
We'll tread a merrier measure, you and I,
For see you here, I cast aside that garb,
Stitched in the nether world for working hours,
13
A part the Devil's very apt to play!
[The dusky cloak falls from him, and he stands under a lightning flame in his dress of scarlet.
Go swiftly, Doctor, find a worthy garb
To match this gay attire. Then, arm in arm
We'll sally forth from out this mouldy den
And look on life.
Faust.
Nay, that were all in vain;
No outward change can change this outworn world
Where every passing hour croaks but one cry:—
“Abstain, renounce, refrain, and for reward
Take the dried parchment of Life's withering law.”
Such is the strain that echoes in men's ears
From waking dawn to phantom-haunted night,
Whose every dream is shattered by the day.
There is no cure but Death. I'll fight no more!
Mephistopheles.
Yet death, too, has its drawbacks, so I've heard!
Faust.
Happy the warrior whose bloodstained brows
Death's marble fingers crown. Thrice happy he
Who, drunk with passion, on his lover's lips
14
Mephistopheles.
And yet I know a Doctor hereabouts
Who grasped the cup but let the liquor go.
Faust.
You spied and saw me fail.
Mephistopheles.
Ah, Doctor, no!
Faust.
Where all is known 'twere vain to hide the truth.
Mephistopheles.
I know a thing or two, yet not quite all!
Faust.
Cursed be the coward hand that held me back,
And cursed those winning strains of childhood born,
That snared my soul upon the edge of all!
A curse on life, honour, and wealth and fame,
Ambition's toils, the cheating gleam of gold,
And pomp and power—the empty spoils of war,—
A curse on all; aye, even the best of all,
The vine's ripe juice that brings the trance of love,
And love's brief ecstasy that turns to hate.
And last of all on man, that patient drudge
Who still endures what Death may fitly end.
Mephistopheles.
Doctor, let me prescribe! For such a case
15
In tearing at a wound my arts may heal!
For think not I would thrust you midst the herd
Of common folk whose lot you rightly spurn.
No! While I'm here I move among the best,
Naught else would suit my quality. Trust to me
To guide you through life's maze, and you shall learn
This Earth can furnish unimagined joys
Of sense unfettered by the illiberal bonds
The haunting spirit forges for the flesh.
Now and henceforth through Time's unmeasured span
I'll be your comrade, servant, and your slave.
Shall that content you?
Faust.
What is thy reward
When this long service hath run out its course?
Mephistopheles.
We'll call the reckoning when the feast is done.
Faust.
Nay, I would know the cost!
Mephistopheles.
Then hearken, Doctor.
Till Time's unfathomed waters cease to flow
I'll stand beside thee at thy beck and call.
The Earth and all its countless joys are thine,
And I thy willing slave to serve the feast!
16
And then?
Mephistopheles.
Why, then I'll ask as much of thee.
What's here is thine, the all hereafter mine.
Faust.
That doth not fright me! When this shattered world
Thou hast cast into the abyss, what else may come
To fill the vacant void may count for naught.
Our hooded vision vainly seeks to pierce
What lies beyond the ruin of this Earth,—
Cradle and grave of every joy and pain
The soul hath sense to capture.—'Tis not that
Which bids my spirit halt.
Mephistopheles.
Why then, good Doctor,
There's nothing left but just to close the bargain;
That done, I'll get to work, and with swift arts
Will yield thee such a harvest of sweet sense
As none have dreamed of yet.
Faust.
What canst thou know
Of joys the uplifted soul would seek to win?
The sordid sweets of sated appetite
Whose savour dies, untasted, on men's lips,
Like fruit that rots within the hand that grasps it,
17
I know them all!
Mephistopheles.
Nay, be assured, good Doctor;
I would not traffic in such damaged wares.
That were to lose all custom! From this hour
With pleasures new for newly-born desire
Your cup of life shall bubble to the brim.
Faust.
If in thy boasted store of rich delights
Thou hast but one that is not linked with pain,
If from all Time one moment thou canst pluck
So rich in beauty that my soul shall cry
Tarry! thou art so fair!—
Then shalt thou claim the immortal part in me!
Then let Time's beating pulses cease to stir:
The shattered hands upon the dial's face
Fling down into the dust: their use is gone,
And Hell itself shall toll the final hour.
So stands my challenge!
Mephistopheles.
Count the bargain closed!
Yet ponder well! The Devil hath a trick
Of not forgetting!
Faust.
Nor shall I forget!
Mephistopheles.
But one thing more remains: we're formal folk!
18
Faust.
My soul is pledged, yet wouldst thou still exact
The feebler witness of this faltering hand!
Mephistopheles.
An idle whim of mine which sometimes serves
To save dispute hereafter.
Faust.
Have thy way!
[Mephistopheles produces a document.
Mephistopheles.
And for our present purpose we will choose
One drop of blood. See here! I prick the vein.
Faust.
Be it so. I am content!
Mephistopheles.
And I content!
[Mephistopheles punctures Faust's arm and hands him the pen. Faust signs the parchment.
Mephistopheles.
I love that crimson stream: what's current here
Is of a different colour!
Faust.
Have no fear
Lest I should break the bond! My rightful place
Is henceforth by thy side. To plumb the depths
Of every earthly pleasure born of sense,
To win from life a world of new desire,
19
Is all that's left to one who vainly sought
To win the secrets of the Universe.
Mephistopheles.
Fall to, then, with a will; the table's spread
With every dish most cunningly devised!
But first we'll make an end of all this lumber
Of empty knowledge stored for empty heads!
No longer wield the flail on barren straw
That yields no wheat; nor seek to teach to youth
What age has failed to learn. There are fools enough
Wearing a Doctor's gown, whose addled brains
May well suffice to fill the addled brains
Of fools who seek to learn. Your freer soul
Deserves a richer diet.
[Knock at door.
Some one knocks.
One of your faithful students waits without!
Faust.
I have no heart to see him. Bid him go!
Mephistopheles.
Nay, he hath journeyed far; 'twere scarcely fair
To leave his famished brain without a meal!
20
Meanwhile make ready for our wayfaring.
Faust.
Across the world!
[Exit Faust.
Mephistopheles.
Across the world to Hell!
I hold him fast and sure. That bolder spirit
That drove him upwards, onwards past those joys
Man may inherit here, shall prove at last
The rock to wreck his soul.
[The knocking is repeated.
Come in! Come in!
A Student enters
Student.
Great Doctor, I have journeyed from afar
To set mine eyes upon the face of one
Whose fame spreads through the world.
Mephistopheles.
You flatter me.
I'm but a simple man, or something more,
Or haply something less. It's hard to tell.
Student.
I'm all athirst for knowledge.
Mephistopheles.
Happy youth!
You couldn't have done better than come here.
21
Yet, to confess a fault, these haunts of learning
Sometimes oppress me. Something in the air
Falls on my brain like lead.
Mephistopheles.
Nay; that will pass!
The new-born child turns from its mother's breast,
Then turns again to take what it refused.
The paps of learning do not lure at first,
The rapture grows in feeding.
Student.
Thank you, Doctor!
I would in all be led by thy advice.
Mephistopheles.
What is the special faculty you seek?
Student.
All fields of knowledge either in Earth or Heaven,
All secrets Science wrings from Nature's breast,—
These I would call my own!
Mephistopheles.
'Tis fortunate
You have made no larger choice! A prudent lad!
Yet even for this narrow course of study
Attention will be needed.
Student.
Body and soul
And all my life I freely consecrate
To this great task! Although in summer time
22
Is that a fault?
Mephistopheles.
No! that can be arranged.
Yet with this tendency, which think you not
I would condemn—that never was my plan,—
Perhaps 'twere wiser in the first, at least,
To take some special province.
Student.
Once I thought
To choose the Law; but now, I know not why,
My spirit turns from it.
Mephistopheles.
And mine, sweet youth.
I own I have no liking for the Law,—
A rebel prejudice that haunts me still.
Student.
Your wiser words confirm me. If I may
I'll start my studies with Theology.
Mephistopheles.
Ah! that's my special subject! hold to that!
Its laws are simple, and its facts are sure.
Unlike those merely human fields of thought
Where men dispute, and rage in angry strife,
This study makes for peace—and when all's learned,—
Your spiritual belly crammed with creeds,—
And you shall come to teach the heavenly law,
See that you spice your list of punishments
23
As though the Devil stood beside your chair.
[He hisses this in the Student's ear.
Student.
Doctor, you frighten me.
Mephistopheles.
Why so, my lad?
There's warrant for such teaching.
Student.
True; there is.
Mephistopheles.
But come, a three years' course may well suffice
To sift the lumber of the centuries
Men call Theology. And after that?
Student.
I thought of Medicine.
Mephistopheles.
A pretty thought,
Yet deem not that this ancient science dwells
In mouldy parchment. There's a shorter way
To reach to eminence. For true disease,
Death is your sole and sovereign remedy!
Leave all such cases to those meddling fools
Who seek to hinder Nature in her task.
But there's a world of women's maladies
That have one source, and only need one cure.
There you may win distinction. Tend them well!
In consultation always feel their pulse;
Look long into their eyes, for there it is
The symptoms show themselves. And now and then
24
To test the heart beneath a loosened bodice,
Or even to pass an arm about the waist
Just to discover if the corset strings
Are over-tightly drawn. These simple hints
Should serve to set a student on his way.
The rest is easy if you love your work.
Student.
Oh, thank you, Doctor; never until now
Has science seemed so plain; I almost wish
This very hour my studies might begin.
Mephistopheles.
The fruit of knowledge hangs upon the tree
And only needs the plucking.
Student.
Ere I go
Here in my album pray you write one word.
Mephistopheles.
Most willingly.
[He writes and hands back the book, from which the Student reads.
Student.
“Be self-possessed and thou
Shalt own the world.”
[Exit Student.
Mephistopheles.
Young hopeful should go far,
And maybe at the goal we'll meet again.
[Enter Faust.
25
Lies spread beneath our feet.
Faust.
Yet in that world
The years that bow me down must keep me still
An exile from all joy.
Mephistopheles.
That's swiftly cured!
There lies a cavern in the cloven earth
Where dwells a witch served by an apish brood
That are her slaves and mine. There, as she sits
Beside a cauldron that is ever seething,
She weaves a spell that yields to outworn age
The prize of youth. Straightway we'll journey there.
[A roll of thunder.
See, as I cast this garment round about thee
We are speeding on our way! The hills divide
As down the vacant highways of the dark
We sink in sudden flight. Above our heads
The circling eagle dwarfed to a dusky star
Soars o'er the moonlit world. Dost thou not feel
The rush of midnight air upon thy brows
As upward from the deep, in chorus chanting,
My subject spirits signal our approach?
26
Through shaken rocks that are rent and riven,
Across the fallow fields of night,
He drives his steeds as a flame is driven
From Deep to Deep in measureless flight.
Mephistopheles.
Time cannot count the lightning lapse of time
Till we are there! Hark! we are nearing now.
Chorus of Apes
Beside a cauldron ever brewing,
We weave a garment of earth and air,
The withered hide of age renewing
With wondrous tissues shining fair.
[During the preceding speech of Mephistopheles and the accompanying Choruses the Scene fades and darkens, with only a glint of light upon the Two Figures who stand at the side of the stage. At first the change is to a world of cloud and vapour, the effect at the back so contrived by the rushing, upward course of the clouds as to make it seem as though Faust and Mephistopheles were swiftly descending.
27
[The Scene should be designed to represent a hollowed cavern at the base of a deep, torn fissure in the earth. The Apish Forms are grouped round a cauldron.
Faust.
Why hast thou brought me to this filthy den?
The antics of this foul mis-shapen crew
Offend my spirit.
Mephistopheles.
That's strange! they please me well!
Look where they frolic with that glowing ball
That sinks and rises o'er the savoury stew.—
What's that, my winsome puppet? Tell your story.
Ape
The world's a ball
Shall rise and fall,
It soars like a star
Afar and afar!
Then falls and falls
As its master calls.
28
And shall last a day.
Hark! the word is spoken,
'Tis shivered and broken.
Away! Away!
[He flings the orb to the ground and it breaks into fragments, upon which the Ape and his Comrades dance in revelry.
Mephistopheles.
Where is thy mistress?
Ape
Up and away
To the fields of day,
Gathering mice
And bats and lice,
With simples new
To feed our stew.
Faust.
What need to call on her?
Mephistopheles.
What need to ask?
'Tis in thy service she is summoned here.
Faust.
If thou wouldst give me back my vanished youth,
This hag's foul witchery is nought to thee.
Canst not thy larger power weave the spell?
29
That power is naught which uses but itself.
The mightier spirit that conceives all ill,
Still needs all service to complete its task.
Since time began a myriad whirring looms
In varied hues of texture, ever changing,
Have wrought the constant pattern of man's fate.
Ape
Hark, hark, and hark!
On the winds of the dark
As a plummet plumbs
To the water's floor
She comes, she comes!
She is here once more!
[The cauldron suddenly boils over; a great flame leaps up, and the Witch shoots down as though through a chimney in the rock.
[She seizes the ladle and threatens the Apes, who scatter at her approach.
Witch.
Ye damnéd crew, so this is how ye work!
Letting our precious pottage boil and spoil.
[Turning to Faust and Mephistopheles.
30
Let burning fire lick all your flesh away,
Consuming heart and brain.
[She fills the ladle from the cauldron and flings the fire towards them.
Mephistopheles.
Vile, filthy witch!
Dost thou not know thy master? At a word
I'll scatter thee and all thy antic brood
In countless fragments to the hissing flames.
So there! and there!
[He seizes the ladle and smashes the goblets and pitchers that are piled around the cauldron.
Witch.
[Grovelling at his feet.]
Good master, pardon me.
In truth I did not see the cloven foot.
Mephistopheles.
Umph! Well, of late I've chosen a neater shoe
That better suits the tripping courtly measure
I tread up there on Earth.
Witch.
Most noble master,
Would I had leave to call thee by thy name.
Mephistopheles.
Nay, not just now. I have some work on hand
That claims another title.
31
Tell me, then,
How I can serve thee best?
Mephistopheles.
My comrade here
Would like to taste that ancient brew of thine.
Witch.
You'll pay me for it?
Mephistopheles.
On Walpurgis night
Ask of me what thou wilt, it shall be thine.
But mark you, of the best with age in bottle!
We want no third-rate vintage.
Witch.
[Pointing.]
That was brewed
A thousand years ere yonder ape was born.
[Whispering.
Yet have a care, it either kills or cures,
There's no half measure.
Mephistopheles.
I'll look after that!
I know his malady: he needs the drug.
So quickly to your craft, and when all's done
Fill up the glittering goblet to the brim.
Witch.
Come, then, make ready.
[The Apes gather round her in a circle, making their backs a reading desk for the great book she opens; then she turns to Faust.
Faust.
This poor jugglery
Was made for fools. I loathe its apish tricks
And would no more.
32
Nay, patience! patience, Doctor!
The end is near, and while she weaves her spell
Look well in yonder hollow of the rock—
'Tis said that once ere Eden's lawns had flowered
The Mother of the Mother of the World
Lay hidden there.
[The Witch continues her incantations, and as she does so a Vision appears—a Vision of a Figure nearly nude, and draped by the growth of leaves about her form, in which she seems partly incorporate.
Faust.
Wonderful form divine,
Pure primal mould of every separate charm
Created Nature owns. Oh, lend me, Love,
The swiftest of thy wings, that I may speed
To that enchanted bower wherein she lies!
Can this be mortal, or may mortal mate
With that celestial beauty?
Mephistopheles.
Nay, turn thine eyes;
The cup is ready, brimming to the full.
What's imaged there the world that waits thee holds
In myriad changing shapes, yet ever one.
See, now 'tis gone.
33
Faust.
Ah, yield it back again.
Mephistopheles.
The drink will yield thee all, for all lies there.
[He holds the cup to Faust as the Witch pronounces the spell.
Witch
Here the shrunken skin of age
In the cauldron sinks and dies,
All the learning of the sage,
All the wisdom of the wise,
Count for naught beside what lies
Hidden in that magic brew.
Drink! and thou shalt feel the fire
Of youth renewed with pulses new,
Longings that shall never tire
Freshly born of fresh desire,—
All are there and all are thine,
Hidden in that magic wine.
[Faust sets the cup to his lips and then starts back as a flame leaps from it.
Mephistopheles.
A mate of mine and wouldst thou shrink at fire!
Drink deep and have no fear.
34
Witch.
'Tis done! 'Tis done!
[With a wild shriek she leaps away, pointing towards Faust who stands in shining light. Mephistopheles with a red glow upon his face, and the Witch surrounded by her Attendant Apes, circle in a wild dance as the Curtain falls.
Curtain.
| Faust | |