University of Virginia Library

SCENE THE FIFTH AND LAST.

The Grand Audience Chamber.
Count di Casanova, Montolio, Orsini, Rosolia, and Neapolitan Lords and Ladies.
Ors.
The king stays long.

Mon.
Aye, longer than he's wont,
But he is strangely shaken by a fever
Of mind and frame; I dare not call it madness.

Casa.
Mad! we're all mad I think.

Ros.
And if we are not
'Tis more than wonder—we've seen enough
To craze the strongest senses.

Casa.
Hush! He comes!

Flourish.—Faustus enters as King.
Faus.
I look'd not for Venetians in my court,—
For, are you not of Venice? By your garb
You should be of that land, to which we owe
But little love in Naples.

Ors.
Sire, we come
For justice.

Faus.
Aye! on whom?

Mon.
A base seducer!

Ors.
A practiser of witchcraft!

Casa.
An assassin!

Faus.
A fearful list, my friends. And who is this,
This base seducer, wizzard, murderer?

Ors.
The German, Faustus.

Faus.
Oh, the German, Faustus;
He stands condemn'd already to the stake;
'Tis pity that he has but one poor life
To answer all of you.

Ors.
By yon bright sun,
The king is mocking us.

Faus.
What's that you mutter?

Casa.
Be still, Orsini; I do spy near peril.

Ors.
I care not I; I will not be the jest
Of king or emperor.

Faus.
Off with them all;
They all are leagu'd, and all shall die.

Ors.
For what?
For being enemies to Faustus?

Faus.
Yes;
For being enemies to Faustus, knave.

Mon.
My gracious liege!

Faus.
What! shall we be controul'd?
Is not our will your law?

Mon.
Yes, when that will
Is just.

Faus.
Away with them, I say, to death.

Mon.
Let me entreat you, sire.

Faus.
They all shall die.

Voice.
(without)
Murder!

Faus.
Who calls my justice murder?—speak—
Who is the rebel? let him stand before me.

Voice.
(without)
Murder!

Faus.
Again! Will no voice show the traitor?

[Low plaintive Music sounds; all seem subdued as if by some supernatural influence.
Faus.
So soft! and yet so terrible! And ye—
Ye all look pale.
[Music again.
But I'm a fool to be
The dupe thus of mine ears—What ho, there! guards!

Adine rushes on; in her hand is a lyre.
All.
Adine!

Faus.
What would you have? what brings you here?

Adine.
To save thee, Faustus.

All.
Faustus!

Faus.
She is mad.

Adine.
Yes, I am mad—but yet I know thee, Faustus.
Yes, I am mad—but I would save thee, Faustus.
'Tis thus I saw thee in my vision's hour—
With all the dreadful attributes of kings
Dispensing death and terror.—Then, as now,
I warn'd thee to repent—I bade thee look
Upon the clouds that hasten on the sun;
The instant they eclipse its light, your time
Of penitence is past.

Faus.
Why, Adine—my
Adine, I say—what fiend has sent thee hither?

Adine.
It was to save thee from the fiend, and not
The fiend that sent me.

Faus.
Sirs, let some one look
To the poor maniac; I should be griev'd
That any harm betided her.—Poor Adine!

Adine.
See, Faustus,—how they roll!—roll—roll!—Repent!—
Oh, let my voice woo thee back again to heaven,
As once the minstrel woo'd the maniac king
From the bad terrors of his evil mind.

Faus.
What terrors? what evils? or what to me
Are your mad minstrels? I am king of Naples:
And king I will be.—Had I pow'r to gain
This dazzling height, I have the pow'r to keep it,
Come what will come.

Adine.
Be hush'd! be hush'd!

RECITATIVE AND AIR.
Recitative.
Oh Saul! Oh king!
Wake from this fearful dream!
The chains that bind
Thy horror-haunted mind,
Drop from thee as the stream
Of music gushes from the trembling string.
Air.
Softly, softly breathe, my lyre,
Stilling ev'ry wild desire!
Let thy music fall as sweet
On the open anxious ear,
As the odours on the sense,
When the summer's close is near.

Faus.
Adine! Adine! With those sweet tones comes back
The memory of other—happier times.


Recitative.
More soft—more slow
The measure flow!
Softer—slower yet,
Till the sweet sound beget
A joy that melts like woe!

Faus.
I thought this heart was rock; but there's a might
In that sweet voice, that, like the sacred rod,
Can call forth living waters from the rock!
Adine! Mine own Adine! for oh, again
I'm all thine own. Come to me—share with me
This regal seat!

Adine.
The steps are red with blood.

Faus.
What dost thou say?

Adine.
Descend from that red throne—
Descend, ere 'tis too late.

Faus.
Her madness speaks
With the sad voice of inspiration.

Adine.
Faustus!
In my heart's anguish—by the love I bore
And bear you still—descend—repent—Oh, see
The clouds move rapidly.

Faus.
'Tis madness all,
I will not be the fool thus of my senses.
Why do all mock me with those ghasted faces?
What have you heard or seen, that you all stand
So maz'd and motionless?

Adine.
That you could feel so!
A moment, and you're lost—for ever lost!
Think on that awful word—for ever—ever.
Pause but a little time—oh, Faustus, Faustus!
The fiery gulph is yawning to receive you;
The demon has his hand outstretch'd to gripe you.

Faus.
Then let the demon come.

[The sun is eclipsed, and leaves the scene in utter darkness.
A Voice
(without)
I come!

All.
Ah, horror!

[All rush out except Adine. The building falls, and the demon appearing in clouds and fire, seizes Faustus.
Faus.
Adine—Adine—lost—lost—for ever lost!

Music. She rushes towards him, when the earth opens before them, and vomits forth fire. Adine falls.