Faust A Tragedy. By J. W. Goethe |
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| 4. | SCENE IV. |
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 | Faust |  |
SCENE IV.
Faust's Study.Faust
entering with the Poodle.
Hush'd now the field and meadow lies,
Beneath the veil of deepest night,
And solemn thoughts within us rise,
Too holy for the garish light.
Calm now the blood that wildly ran,
Asleep the hand of lawless strife;
Now wakes to life the love of man,
The love of God now wakes to life.
Beneath the veil of deepest night,
And solemn thoughts within us rise,
Too holy for the garish light.
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Asleep the hand of lawless strife;
Now wakes to life the love of man,
The love of God now wakes to life.
Quiet thee, poodle! why snuff'st thou so,
Running restless to and fro?
Come, couch thee down upon the hearth,
Thou hast a comfortable berth.
And as without, on the mountain-way,
We joy'd to see thy gambols gay,
So here, my hospitable care,
A quiet guest, and welcome, share.
Running restless to and fro?
Come, couch thee down upon the hearth,
Thou hast a comfortable berth.
And as without, on the mountain-way,
We joy'd to see thy gambols gay,
So here, my hospitable care,
A quiet guest, and welcome, share.
When, in our narrow cell confined,
The friendly lamp begins to burn,
Then clearer sees the thoughtful mind,
With searching looks that inward turn.
Bright Hope again within us gleams,
And Reason's voice again is strong;
We thirst for life's untroubled streams,
For the pure fount of life we long.
The friendly lamp begins to burn,
Then clearer sees the thoughtful mind,
With searching looks that inward turn.
Bright Hope again within us gleams,
And Reason's voice again is strong;
We thirst for life's untroubled streams,
For the pure fount of life we long.
Quiet thee, poodle! it seems not well
To break, with thy snarling, the holy spell
Of my soul's music, that may not be
With bestial sounds in harmony.
We are well used that men despise
What to see they have no eyes,
And murmur in their peevish mood
Against the beautiful and good;
Belike the cur, as curs are they,
Thus growls and snarls his bliss away!
To break, with thy snarling, the holy spell
Of my soul's music, that may not be
With bestial sounds in harmony.
We are well used that men despise
What to see they have no eyes,
And murmur in their peevish mood
Against the beautiful and good;
Belike the cur, as curs are they,
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But, alas! already I feel it well,
No more may peace within this bosom dwell.
Why must the stream so soon dry up,
And I lie panting for the cup
That mocks my thirsty lips? so often why
Drink pleasure's shallow fount, when scarce yet tasted, dry?
Yet is this evil not without remeid;
We long for heavenly food to feed
Our heaven-born spirit, and our heart, now bent
On things divine, to revelation turns,
Which no where worthier or purer burns,
Than in the holy Testament.
I feel strange impulse in my soul
The sacred volume to unroll,
With pious purpose, once for all,
The holy Greek Original
Into my honest German to translate.
(He opens the Bible, and begins to read.)
“In the beginning was the Word.” Stops here
In ipso limine my course?—in vain
I seek this mystic symbol to explain,
Unless some god my inward vision clear.
The naked word I dare not prize so high,
I must translate it differently,
If by the Spirit I am rightly taught.
“In the beginning of all things was Thought.”
The first line let me ponder well,
Lest my pen outstrip my sense;
Is it thought wherein doth dwell
All-creative Omnipotence?
I change the phrase, and safer write,
In the beginning there was Might.
But even here methinks some warning voice
Makes me to waver in my choice—
At length, at length, the Spirit helps my need!
I write, “In the beginning was the Deed!”
No more may peace within this bosom dwell.
Why must the stream so soon dry up,
And I lie panting for the cup
That mocks my thirsty lips? so often why
Drink pleasure's shallow fount, when scarce yet tasted, dry?
Yet is this evil not without remeid;
We long for heavenly food to feed
Our heaven-born spirit, and our heart, now bent
On things divine, to revelation turns,
Which no where worthier or purer burns,
Than in the holy Testament.
I feel strange impulse in my soul
The sacred volume to unroll,
With pious purpose, once for all,
The holy Greek Original
Into my honest German to translate.
(He opens the Bible, and begins to read.)
“In the beginning was the Word.” Stops here
In ipso limine my course?—in vain
I seek this mystic symbol to explain,
Unless some god my inward vision clear.
The naked word I dare not prize so high,
I must translate it differently,
If by the Spirit I am rightly taught.
“In the beginning of all things was Thought.”
The first line let me ponder well,
Lest my pen outstrip my sense;
Is it thought wherein doth dwell
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I change the phrase, and safer write,
In the beginning there was Might.
But even here methinks some warning voice
Makes me to waver in my choice—
At length, at length, the Spirit helps my need!
I write, “In the beginning was the Deed!”
Wilt thou share the room with me,
Poodle, thou must quiet be,
Thou must cease thy snarls and howls,
And keep for other place thy growls.
Such a noisy inmate may
Not my studious leisure cumber;
You or I, without delay,
Restless cur, must leave the chamber!
Not willingly from thee I take
The right of hospitality,
But if thou wilt my quiet break,
Seek other quarters—thou hast exit free.
But what must I see!
What vision strange
Beyond the powers
Of Nature's range!
Am I awake, or bound with a spell?
How wondrously the brute doth swell!
Long and broad
Uprises he,
In a form that no form
Of a dog may be!
What spectre brought I into my house?
He stands already, with glaring eyes,
And teeth in grinning ranks that rise,
Large as a hippopotamus!
O! I have thee now!
For such half-brood of hell as thou
The key of Solomon the wise
Is surest charm to exorcise.
Poodle, thou must quiet be,
Thou must cease thy snarls and howls,
And keep for other place thy growls.
Such a noisy inmate may
Not my studious leisure cumber;
You or I, without delay,
Restless cur, must leave the chamber!
Not willingly from thee I take
The right of hospitality,
But if thou wilt my quiet break,
Seek other quarters—thou hast exit free.
But what must I see!
What vision strange
Beyond the powers
Of Nature's range!
Am I awake, or bound with a spell?
How wondrously the brute doth swell!
Long and broad
Uprises he,
In a form that no form
Of a dog may be!
What spectre brought I into my house?
He stands already, with glaring eyes,
And teeth in grinning ranks that rise,
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O! I have thee now!
For such half-brood of hell as thou
The key of Solomon the wise
Is surest charm to exorcise.
SPIRITS
in the passage without.
Brother spirits, have a care!
One within is prisoner;
Follow him none!—for he doth quail
Like a fox, trap-caught by the tail.
But let us watch!
Hover here, hover there,
Up and down amid the air;
For soon this sly old lynx of hell
Will tear him free, and all be well.
Let us wait, a faithful crew,
Here to help him, if we can,
For he is our master true,
And we love him every one.
FAUST.
First let the charm of the elements four
The nature of the brute explore.
Let the Salamander glow,
Undene twine her crested wave,
Silphe into ether flow,
And Kobold vex him, drudging slave!
The nature of the brute explore.
Let the Salamander glow,
Undene twine her crested wave,
Silphe into ether flow,
And Kobold vex him, drudging slave!
Whoso knows not
The elements four,
Their quality,
And hidden power,
In the magic art
Hath he no part.
The elements four,
Their quality,
And hidden power,
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Hath he no part.
Melting in flames glow
Salamander!
Rushing in waves flow
Undene!
Shine forth in meteor-beauty
Silphe!
Work thy domestic duty
Incubus Incubus!
Step forth and finish the spell.
Salamander!
Rushing in waves flow
Undene!
Shine forth in meteor-beauty
Silphe!
Work thy domestic duty
Incubus Incubus!
Step forth and finish the spell.
None of the four
In the brute doth dwell.
It lies unmoved, and grins at my spell;
I have not yet made it feel pain.
With a stronger charm
Thou shalt hear me again.
In the brute doth dwell.
It lies unmoved, and grins at my spell;
I have not yet made it feel pain.
With a stronger charm
Thou shalt hear me again.
Art thou a fugitive
Urchin of hell?
So yield thee at length
To this holiest spell!
Bend thee this sacred
Emblem before,
Which the powers of darkness
Trembling adore.
Urchin of hell?
So yield thee at length
To this holiest spell!
Bend thee this sacred
Emblem before,
Which the powers of darkness
Trembling adore.
Already swells he up with bristling hair.
Can'st thou read it,
The holy sign,
Reprobate spirit,
The emblem divine?
The unbegotten,
Whom none can name,
Whose word did the world's
Infinity frame,
Yet to death submitted
Of sin and of shame?
The holy sign,
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The emblem divine?
The unbegotten,
Whom none can name,
Whose word did the world's
Infinity frame,
Yet to death submitted
Of sin and of shame?
Now behind the stove he lies,
And swells him up to an elephant's size,
And seems as if he would fill the room,
And melt into a cloud away.
Down, proud spirit, downward come!
And at thy master's feet thee lay!
In vain, in vain, thou seek'st to turn thee,
With an holy flame I burn thee!
Wait not, spirit, wait not till
My triple-flame I spread around thee!
Wait not till my magic skill,
With its mightiest charm hath bound thee!
And swells him up to an elephant's size,
And seems as if he would fill the room,
And melt into a cloud away.
Down, proud spirit, downward come!
And at thy master's feet thee lay!
In vain, in vain, thou seek'st to turn thee,
With an holy flame I burn thee!
Wait not, spirit, wait not till
My triple-flame I spread around thee!
Wait not till my magic skill,
With its mightiest charm hath bound thee!
(The clouds vanish, and Mephistopheles comes forward from behind the fire-place, drest like an itinerant schoolmaster.)
| Faust | |