University of Virginia Library

ACT III.

SCENE I.

Auerbach's Wine-Cellar. Leipzig.
A BOUT OF MERRY FELLOWS.
FROSCH.
Will no one sing? none crack a joke?
I'll teach you to make saucy faces!
Like old wet straw to-day you smoke,
While bright as flame your wonted blaze is.

BRANDER.
The blame lies with yourself, for you have given us
To-day no fun nor frolic to enliven us.

FROSCH.
(throwing a glass of wine over his head.)
There hast thou both then!

BRANDER.
Double swine!

FROSCH.
You asked a joke—I gave it you in wine!

SIEBEL.
Out at the door with all who dare to quarrel!
Drink, roar, and sing out from your lungs' good barrel!
Up! hollo! ho!

ALTMAYER.
Woe's me! the devil and all his crew are here!
Some cotton, ho! he makes my ear-drum crack.

SIEBEL.
Roar on! for, when the vault loud echoes back,
The sonorous bass best thunders to the ear.

FROSCH.
Right, right! out with each saucy fellow!
A! tara lara da!

ALTMAYER.
A tara lara da!

FROSCH.
(Sings.)

FROSCH.
(sings.)
Mount up, lady nightingale,
Greet my love ten thousand times.

SIEBEL.
No, sir, not once,—I'll hear no more of this.

FROSCH.
But you shall hear!—A greeting and a kiss!
(He sings.)

SIEBEL.
Yes! sing and sing! praise and bepraise her too!
I shall have laughing soon, I warrant you.
The jade has jilted me! thee will she treat no better.
I would some Kobold for his wife might get her,
Upon some lone cross road with her to toy;
Or that some old he-goat, that tramps away
From merry Blocksberg on the first of May,
Might serenade her as he gallops by.
An honest man of genuine flesh and blood
Is for the wench by far too good.
No other greeting will I give her
Than all her window-panes to shiver!

BRANDER.
(striking the table.)
Gentlemen hear! only attend to me,
And you shall see that I know how to live.
If love-sick people here there be,
In compliment to them, I'm bound to give
A song brim-full of the most melting passion.
I'll sing a ditty of the newest fashion!
Attend, and join all merry in the chorus!

[BRANDER]
(He sings.)
In a pantry-hole there liv'd a rat,
On bacon and on butter,
It had a paunch as round and fat
As honest Doctor Luther.
The cook plac'd poison in its way,
It felt as straiten'd all the day,
As if it had love in its body.

CHORUS.
(shouting.)
As if it had love in its body.

BRANDER.
It ran within, it ran without,
And sipp'd in every puddle,
And scratch'd and gnaw'd, but better'd not
The fever of its noddle.
With many a gasp it tossed and toss'd,
Seem'd ready to give up the ghost,
As if it had love in its body.

CHORUS.
As if it had love in its body.

BRANDER.
It left its hole for very pain,
Into the kitchen crawling,
And snorting there with might and main,
Upon the hearth lay sprawling.
The cook she laugh'd when she saw it die,
It squeaks, quoth she, with its latest sigh,
As if it had love in its body.

CHORUS.
As if it had love in its body.

SIEBEL.
How the hard-hearted boys rejoice!
As if it were a trade so choice
To poison the poor rats and mice.

BRANDER.
You seem to eye them with peculiar favour.

ALTMAYER.
The oily paunch! the bald pate, the!—
He is most meek and piteous ever;
In the poor rat at once he knew
His counterfeit—most passing true!

SCENE II.

Enter Faust and Mephistopheles.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
First thing of all, here must you see,
A merry laughing company,
That you may learn how easy men contrive
Without much thought or care to live.
These fellows feast their lives away
In a continual holiday;
With little wit and much content
Their narrow ring of life is spent,
As playful kittens oft are found
To chase their own tails round and round.
So live they on from day to day,
As long as headach keeps away,
And by no anxious thought are cross'd,
While they get credit from their host.

BRANDER.
These gentlemen in Leipzig seem quite green,
More perfect strangers I have seldom seen;
They are not an hour arrived I warrant thee.

FROSCH.
There you are right!—Leipzig's the place, I say!
It is a little Paris in its way.

SIEBEL.
What think you may the strangers be?

FROSCH.
Leave that to me!—I'll soon fish out the truth.
Fill me a bumper till it overflows,
And then I'll draw the worms out of their nose,
As easily as 'twere an infant's tooth.
To me they seem to be of noble blood,
They look so discontented and so proud.

BRANDER.
Quack doctors both!—Altmayer, what think you?

ALTMAYER.
'Tis like.

FROSCH.
Mark me! I'll make them feel the screw.

MEPHISTOPHELES.
(to FAUST.)
They have no nose to smell the devil out,
Even when he has them by the snout.

FAUST.
Be greeted, gentlemen!

SIEBEL.
With much respect return we the salute.
(Softly, eyeing Mephistopheles from the one side.)
What! does the fellow limp upon one foot?

MEPHISTOPHELES.
With your permission, we will make so free,
As to intrude upon your company.
And though the host's poor wines may keep us in so briety,
We shall at least enjoy your good society.

ALTMAYER.
He seems a man of most fastidious taste.

FROSCH.
When left you Rippach? you must have been press'd
For time. Supp'd you with Squire Hans by the way?

MEPHISTOPHELES.
We had no time to stay!
But when I last came by, I was his guest.
He spoke much of his cousins, and he sent
To you and all full many a compliment.

(He makes a bow to Frosch.)
ALTMAYER.
(softly.)
You have him there!—he understands the jest!

SIEBEL.
He is a knowing one!

FROSCH.
I'll sift him through anon!

MEPHISTOPHELES.
As we came in, a concert struck my ear
Of skilful voices in a chorus pealing!
A gleesome song must sound most nobly here,
Re-echoed freely from the vaulted ceiling.

FROSCH.
Perhaps you have yourself some skill?

MEPHISTOPHELES.
O no! had I the power, I should not want the will.

ALTMAYER.
Give us a song!

MEPHISTOPHELES.
A thousand, willingly!

SIEBEL.
Only split-new, I say!—no thread-bare strain!

MEPHISTOPHELES.
We are but just come from a tour in Spain,
The lovely land of wine and melody.
(He sings.)

FROSCH.
Ha, ha! a flea!—he seems a man of taste!
A flea, I wis, is a most comely guest?

MEPHISTOPHELES.
(sings again.)
There was a king in old times
That had a huge big flea,
As if it were his own son,
He lov'd it mightily.
He sent out for the tailor,
To get it a suit of clothes;
He made my lord a dress-coat,
He made him a pair of hose.

BRANDER.
Be sure that Monsieur le Tailleur be told
To take his measure with the greatest nicety,
And as upon his head he puts a price, he
Shall make the hose without a single fold!

MEPHISTOPHELES.

CHORUS.
(shouting.)
But we to death are crack'd all
And bitten every day.

FROSCH.
Bravo, bravo!—his voice is quite divine.

SIEBEL.
Such fate may every flea befall!

BRANDER.
Point your fingers, and crack 'em all!

ALTMAYER.
A glass to liberty!—long live the vine!

MEPHISTOPHELES.
For such a cause, would I a brimming bumper fill,
If we had only better wine to drink.

SIEBEL.
You might have kept that to yourself, I think!

MEPHISTOPHELES.
I only fear our host might take it ill,
Else should I give to every honour'd guest
From our own cellar of the very best.

SIEBEL.
O never fear!—If you but give the wine,
Our host shall be content—the risk be mine!

FROSCH.
Give me a flowing glass, and praise you shall not want,
So that your sample, mark me! be not scant;
I cannot judge of wine, unless I fill
My mouth and throat too with a goodly swill.

ALTMAYER.
(softly.)
I see the gentlemen are from the Rhine.

MEPHISTOPHELES.
Give me a borer here!—I'll show you precious wine.

BRANDER.
(aside.)
What would the fellow bore?
Has he then wine-casks at the door?

ALTMAYER.
There, in the basket, you will find a store
Of tools, which our good landlord sometimes uses.

MEPHISTOPHELES.
(taking the borer.)
(to FROSCH.)
Now every one may taste of what he chooses.

FROSCH.
Have you all sorts?—or do you mean to quiz us?

MEPHISTOPHELES.
I offer each whatever wine he pleases.

ALTMAYER.
(to FROSCH.)
Aha! I see you lick your lips already.

FROSCH.
Give me a bumper of good native Rhenish;
'Tis better far than all your French or Spanish.

MEPHISTOPHELES.
(boring a hole in the edge of the table where Frosch is sitting.)
Fetch me a little wax, to make the stoppers ready.

ALTMAYER.
He means to put us off with jugglery.

MEPHISTOPHELES.
(to BRANDER.)
And you, Sir, what?

BRANDER.
Champaigne for me!
And brisk and foaming let it be!

(Mephistopheles bores, meanwhile one of the party has got the stoppers ready, and closes the holes.)
BRANDER.
To foreign climes a man must sometimes roam,
In quest of things he cannot find at home.
For Frenchmen Germans have no strong affection,
But to their wines we seldom make objection.

SIEBEL.
(while Mephistopheles is coming round to him.)
I have no taste for your sour wines to-day,
I wish to have a swig of good Tokay.

MEPHISTOPHELES.
(boring.)
That you shall have, and of the very best.

ALTMAYER.
No, gentlemen!—'tis plain you mean to jest;
If so, in me you much mistake your man.

MEPHISTOPHELES.
Ha! ha!—no little risk, methinks, I ran
To venture tricks with noble guests like you.
Come! make your choice, speak boldly out, and I
Shall do my best your wish to gratify.

ALTMAYER.
Give me what wine you please!—only not much ado.

(After having bored and stopped up all the holes,)
MEPHISTOPHELES.
(with strange gestures.)
Grapes on the vine grow!
Horns on the goat!
The wine is juicy, the vine is of wood,
The wooden table can give it as good.
Look into Nature's depths with me!
Whoso hath faith shall wonders see!
Now draw the corks, and quaff the wine!

ALL.
(drawing the corks, and quaffing the out-streaming liquor, each as he had desired.)
O blessed stream!—O fount divine!

MEPHISTOPHELES.
Drink on! only be cautious in your hurry.

(They drink freely.)
ALL.
(singing.)
We feast like cannibals divine,
Drink like five hundred swine!

MEPHISTOPHELES.
(to FAUST.)
Look at the fellows now!—are they not merry?

FAUST.
I feel inclined to go!—'tis getting late.

MEPHISTOPHELES.
Soon shall we have a glorious revelation
Of bestiality, if you but wait.

SIEBEL.
(drinks carelessly; the wine falls to the ground and becomes flame.)
Help! fire! the devil's here! death and damnation.

MEPHISTOPHELES.
(addressing him to the flames.)
Peace, friendly element! be still!
(To the company.)
This time 'twas but a drop of purgatorial flame.

SIEBEL.
What's that?—your impudence we soon will tame!
It seems you little know with whom you deal.

FROSCH.
'Twere dangerous to repeat such gambols here!

ALTMAYER.
Methinks 'twere best to whisper in his ear
That he had better leave the room.

SIEBEL.
What, sirrah? do you then presume
To play your hocus-pocus here?

MEPHISTOPHELES.
Peace, old wine-cask!

SIEBEL.
You broomstick you!
Must we then bear your insolence too?

BRANDER.
Wait! wait! it shall rain blows anon!

ALTMAYER.
(Draws a stopper from the table, and fire rushes out on him.)
I burn! I burn!

SIEBEL.
There's witchcraft in his face!
The fellow is an outlaw! strike him down!

(They draw their knives and run against Mephistopheles.)
MEPHISTOPHELES.
(with serious mien.)
False be eye, and false be ear!
Change the sense, and change the place!
Now be there, and now be here!

(They look as thunderstruck, and stare at one another.)
ALTMAYER.
Where am I? in what lovely land?

FROSCH.
Vineyards! can it be so?

SIEBEL.
And grapes too quite at hand!

BRANDER.
And here beneath this shady tree,
This noble vine, these blushing clusters see!

(He seizes Siebel by the nose. The rest seize one another in the same manner, and lift up their knives.)
MEPHISTOPHELES.
(as above.)
Let Error now their eyes unclose,
The devil's joke to understand!

(He vanishes with Faust. The fellows start back from one another.)
SIEBEL.
What's the matter?

ALTMAYER.
How now?

FROSCH.
Was that your nose?

BRANDER
(to SIEBEL.)
And yours is in my hand!

ALTMAYER.
It was a stroke through my whole body went!
Give me a chair!—I sink, I faint!

FROSCH.
Now tell me only what has been the matter?

SIEBEL.
Where is the fellow? Could I catch him here,
His life out of his body I should batter!

ALTMAYER.
I saw him just this instant disappear,
Riding upon a wine-cask—I declare
I feel a weight like lead about my feet.
(Turning to the table.)
I wonder if his d---d wine still be there!

SIEBEL.
There's not a single drop; 'twas all a cheat.

FROSCH.
And yet methinks that I was drinking wine.

BRANDER.
And I could swear I saw a cluster'd vine.

ALTMAYER.
Let none now say the age of miracles is past!

SCENE III.

Witches' Kitchen.
A cauldron is seen boiling on a low hearth. Numbers of strange fantastic figures tumbling up and down in the smoke. A Mother-Cat-Ape sits beside the cauldron, taking off the scum, and keeping it from boiling over. An Old Cat-Ape beside her warming himself with his young ones. Roof and walls are covered over with a strange assortment of furniture, and implements used by witches.
Enter Faust and Mephistopheles.
FAUST.
I cannot brook this noisy bedlam crew:
Deem'st thou I shall my worn-out age renew
Within this den of sheer insanity?
Shall an old beldam give me what I lack?
Can all the brewings of her scullery
Shake off full thirty summers from my back?
Woe's me, if better project thou hast none!
I feel my noblest hopes already gone.
Has Nature then, and has some noble Spirit,
No balsam for the body to repair it?

MEPHISTOPHELES.
My friend, with your great sense I cannot but be smitten!
Nature, too, boasts a plan to renovate your age;
But in a wondrous volume is it written,
And wondrous is the chapter and the page.

FAUST.
But I must know it.

MEPHISTOPHELES.
Good! the poorest man may try it,
Without or witch, or quack, or gold to buy it;
And yet it works a certain cure.
Go take thee with the peasant to the moor,
And straight begin to hew and hack;
Confine thee there, with patient mood,
Within the narrow beaten track,
And nourish thee with simplest food;
Live with the brute a brute, and count it not too low
To dung the corn-fields thine own hands shall mow;
Than this I know on earth no med'cine stronger,
To make, by fourscore years, both soul and body younger!

FAUST.
I was not trained to this—was never made
To labour with the pick-axe and the spade.
My spirit soars too high for your vile clay.

MEPHISTOPHELES.
Then must we take the witch into our pay.

FAUST
But why this self-same ugly Jezebel?
Could you not brew the drink yourself as well?

MEPHISTOPHELES.
That were a dainty pastime to be sure!
Meanwhile I might have built a thousand bridges,
Across a thousand mountain-ridges.
Not art, and science strict, are here enough,
But patience too, and perseverance tough.
A thoughtful soul toils on through many a silent year,
Time only makes the busy ferment clear.
Besides that the ingredients all,
They are most strange and mystical!
'Tis true I gave them the receipt from hell,
But how to make the drug I cannot tell.
(Looking at the Cat-Apes.)
Lo! what a tiny gay parade!
Here's the man, and there's the maid!
(Addressing them.)
It seems that your good mother has gone out?

THE CAT-APES.
Up the chimney,
Went she out,
To a drinking bout!

MEPHISTOPHELES.
Is it her wont to gossip long without?

THE ANIMALS.
As long as we sit here and warm our feet.

MEPHISTOPHELES.
(to FAUST.)
What think you of the brutes? are they not neat?

FAUST.
I never saw such tasteless would-be-drolls!

MEPHISTOPHELES.
Pooh! pooh!—I know no greater delectation
On earth, than such a merry conversation.
(To the brutes.)
Now let us hear, you pretty dolls,
What stir you round in the cauldron so?

THE BRUTES.
Soup for beggars, through and through,
Thin and watery, we brew.

MEPHISTOPHELES.
You will have customers enow.

THE FATHER CAT-APE.
(comes up and fawns upon Mephistopheles.)
Come rattle the dice,
Make me rich in a trice,
Come, come, let me gain!
My case is so bad,
It scarce could be worse,
Were I right in my purse,
I'd be right in my brain!

MEPHISTOPHELES.
How happy would the apish creature be,
To get a ticket in the lottery!

(Meanwhile the young Cat-Apes have been playing with a large globe, and roll it forwards.)
THE FATHER CAT-APE.
Such is the world,
So doth it go,
Up and down,
To and fro!
Like glass doth it tinkle,
Like glass doth it twinkle,
Breaks in a minute,
Has nothing within it;
Here doth it sparkle,
There doth it darkle,
I am alive!
My dear son, I say,
Keep out of the way!
You will die, you will die!
It is but of clay,
And in pieces will fly!

MEPHISTOPHELES.
What make you with the sieve?

THE FATHER CAT-APE.
(bringing down the sieve.)
When comes a thief,
On the instant we know him.
(He runs off to the Mother Cat-Ape, and lets her look through the sieve.)
Look through the sieve!
See'st thou the thief,
And fearest to show him?

MEPHISTOPHELES.
(coming near the fire.)
And this pot?

FATHER CAT-APE AND HIS WIFE.
The silly sot!
He knows not the pot!
And the cauldron not!

MEPHISTOPHELES.
You ill-bred urchin you!

THE FATHER CAT-APE.
Come, sit thee down,
We'll give thee a crown,
And a sceptre too!

(He obliges Mephistopheles to sit down, and gives him a long brush for a sceptre.)
FAUST.
(Who, while Mephistopheles was engaged with the animals, had been standing before a mirror, alternately approaching to it and retiring from it.)
What see I?—what a lovely image here,
Within this magic mirror, do I see!
O Love, thy swiftest pinion lend thou me,
That it may waft me to her balmy sphere!
Alas! when I attempt to come more nigh,
I see her still receding from mine eye,
And in a cloudy distance disappear!
The fairest form of woman that hath met
My eyes, among fair Eva's daughters yet!
There lies she, on that downy couch reposing,
Within herself the heaven of heavens enclosing!
Can it then be that earth a thing so fair contains?

MEPHISTOPHELES.
Of course: for when a god has vex'd his brains
For six long days, and, when his work is done,
Says Bravo to himself, he must produce
Something above the common I should think.
This time gaze on so long as thou shalt choose;
I know how to procure you such an one,
From whom thou may'st thy fill of pleasure drink;
And blest the man, for whom Fate shall decide,
To lead home such a treasure as his bride!
(Faust continues gazing on the mirror. Mephistopheles stretches himself on the arm-chair, and, playing with the brush, goes on as follows.)
Here sit I like a king upon a throne,
A sceptre I have here, my crown they bring anon.

THE ANIMALS.
(Who had in the interval been making strange antic motions through one another, bring a crown to Mephistopheles, with loud shouts.)
O be but so good,
With sweat and with blood,
Your crown to glue,
As monarchs do!
(They use the crown rather roughly, in consequence of which it falls into two pieces, with which they jump about.)
Alas! alas!
It falls with a crash!
We hear and we see,
And we rhyme merrily!

FAUST.
(gazing on the mirror.)
Woe's me! her beauty doth my wits confound.

MEPHISTOPHELES.
(pointing to the brutes.)
And even my good brain is whirling round and round.

THE BRUTES.
And if we well speed,
As speed well we ought,
'Tis a pretty conceit,
'Tis a clever thought.

FAUST.
(as above.)
My breast begins with fire to glow!
Come now, Mephisto—let us go!

MEPHISTOPHELES.
(as above.)
One must, at least, confess that they
Are honest poets in their way.

(The kettle, which had been neglected by the Mother Cat-Ape, begins to boil over: A great flame arises, and runs up the chimney. The Witch comes through the flame, down the chimney, with a terrible noise.)
THE WITCH.
Ow! ow! ow! ow!
Thou damned brute! thou cursed sow!
To leave the kettle, and singe the frow!
Thou curst imp, thou!
(Turning to Faust and Mephistopheles.)
Who are these there?
How came they here?
What do they want?
They are scouts! they are scouts!
Out with the louts!
A fiery arrow
Consume their marrow!

(She plunges the ladle into the kettle, and spurts out flame on Faust, Mephistopheles, and the Brutes. These last whine.)
MEPHISTOPHELES.
(Who, in the mean time, had turned round the butt-end of the brush, now dashes in amongst the pots and glasses.)
(While the Witch, foaming with rage and fury, draws back.)

THE WITCH.
O my liege lord! forgive the rough salute!
I did not see the horse's foot:
And where too have you left your pair of ravens?

MEPHISTOPHELES.
For this time you may thank the heavens
That you have come so cheaply off;
It is, I must confess, long time enough,
And more than should be, honest mother,
Since you and I last spake together.
Besides, the march of modern cultivation
Has made the devil too a man of fashion;
All things are now so smooth, the famous Northern Devil
Meets everywhere with treatment most uncivil.
And now must horns, and claws, and tail, and hoof,
From an enlightened age be kept aloof:
As for the horse's foot, once of such notoriety,
It would now bar me quite from good society;
And I, as modern dandies do, must use
A stuffing to fill up my boots and shoes.

THE WITCH,
dancing.
Heyday! it almost turns my brain
To see Squire Satan here again!

MEPHISTOPHELES.
Woman, you must not call me by that name!

THE WITCH.
And wherefore not? I see no cause for shame.

MEPHISTOPHELES.
That name has had its station long assigned
With other fables: but the human kind,
With all its wisdom, still seems much the same.
The wicked one is gone, the wicked stay behind.
You call me Baron now, less would be rude—
I am a cavalier like other cavaliers,
You cannot mean to doubt my noble blood,
Here is a coat of arms that all the world reveres.

(He makes an indecent gesture.)
THE WITCH.
(laughing immoderately).
Ha! ha! now I perceive Old Nick is here!
You are a knave still as you always were.

MEPHISTOPHELES.
(aside to FAUST.)
My friend, this hour in lessons rich is,
How one ought to deal with witches.

THE WITCH.
Now say, good sirs, what would you have with me?

MEPHISTOPHELES.
A glass of your restoring beverage,
And of the oldest let it be;
You know the strength is doubled with its age.

THE WITCH.
Most willingly. Here I have got a phial
Of which myself at times make trial,
'Tis now a pleasant mellow potion!
You shall not meet with a denial.
(Softly.)
Yet if this worthy man drinks it without precaution,
He cannot live, you know, a single hour thereafter.

MEPHISTOPHELES.
He is a friend, his health let me look after;
He well deserves the best your kitchen has,
And he may drink it without harm.
Come, draw your circle, speak your charm,
And let him have a flowing glass.

(The Witch, with strange gestures, draws a circle and places many curious things within it; meanwhile the glasses begin to tinkle, and the kettle to sound and make music. She brings a large book, puts the Cat-Apes into the circle, and makes them serve as a desk to lay the book on, and hold the torches. She winks to Faust to come near.)
FAUST.
(to MEPHISTOPHELES).
Now say, what would she with this witchery?
These antic gestures, this wild bedlam-stuff,
This most insipid of all mummery,
I know it well, I hate it well enough.

MEPHISTOPHELES.
(He obliges Faust to enter the circle.)
(The Witch begins to declaim from the book with great emphasis.)

FAUST.
Methinks the woman speaks as she were mad.

MEPHISTOPHELES.
O never fear, she is not yet half done.
I know the volume well, the rest is quite as bad;
I have lost many a precious hour thereon;
For a plain contradiction still must be,
To sages as to fools, an equal mystery.
My friend, this practice is no novelty:
In every time and place have men been found,
By means of three and one, and one and three,
Plain truth with wildest fables to confound.
So prate and prattle they in all the schools;
What man of sense would plague him with such fools?
Men pin their faith to words, in sounds high sapience weening,
Though words were surely made to have a meaning.

THE WITCH.
(goes on reading from the book.)
The mighty power
Of secret lore,
For which vain mortals burrow;
The simple mind
The prize will find,
Without or care or sorrow.

FAUST.
What bibble-babble pours she out before us?
She makes my skull split with her brainless chatter.
I feel as if I heard the ceaseless clatter
Of thirty thousand idiots in a chorus.

MEPHISTOPHELES.
Enough, kind Sibyl; thanks for thy good will!
Now bring your jug here, and the goblet fill
With this prime juice, till it be brimming o'er.
My friend here is a man of high degrees,
And he may drink unscath'd what quantity you please;
He has swill'd many a goodly draught before.

(The Witch, with many ceremonies, pours the beverage into a cup. While Faust brings it to his mouth a light flame arises.)
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Come, quaff it boldly over, without thinking!
The draught will make thy heart to burn with love.
Art with the devil hand and glove,
And from a fire-spurt would'st be shrinking?

(The Witch looses the circle. Faust steps out.)
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Come, quickly out, you must not rest.

THE WITCH.
I hope the swig will wonders work on thee!

MEPHISTOPHELES.
And, if you have aught to request from me,
You need but name it on Walpurgis' feast.

THE WITCH.
There is a song!—at times sung, you will find
It hath a wondrous working on your mind.

MEPHISTOPHELES.
(to FAUST.)
Come, for the present I must be the squire,
And you for once submit to wear the bridle.
You must keep quiet, and let yourself perspire,
That through your inmost frame the potent juice may pierce.
When we have time to spare, I shall rehearse
Some lessons on the art of being nobly idle,
And soon thy heart with ecstasy shall know,
How Cupid 'gins to move, and boundeth to and fro.

FAUST.
(turning again towards the mirror.)
Indulge me with one glance!—one moment spare!
It was a virgin-form surpassing fair!

MEPHISTOPHELES.
No! No! with aid like mine thou soon shalt see
The paragon of woman bodily.
(Aside.)
Anon, if this good potion does its duty,
He'll see in every wench the Trojan beauty.

SCENE IV.

A Street.
Faust. Margaret passes over.
FAUST.
My fair young lady, may I dare
To offer you my escort home?

MARGARET.
I am no lady, nor am I fair,
And need no guide to shew me home.

FAUST.
By heaven this child is passing fair!
A lovelier girl ne'er met my view;
Of such a modest gentle air,
And yet a little snappish too.
Her lips so red, her cheeks so bright,
Forget I could not, if I might.
How she casts down her lovely eyes,
Deep-graven in my heart it lies,
And how so sharp she turn'd the street,
It is most ravishingly sweet!

Enter Mephistopheles.
FAUST.
Hark! I must have that damsel instantly!

MEPHISTOPHELES.
Which one?

FAUST.
She that is just gone by.

MEPHISTOPHELES.
What! she? She's just come from confession.
Where she received a full remission:
I slinked close by the box, and heard
The simple damsel's every word;
'Tis a most guileless thing, that goes
For very nothing to the priest:
My power does not extend to those.

FAUST.
Yet she is fourteen years of age at least.

MEPHISTOPHELES.
You speak like Jack the debauchee,
Who thinks each sweet flow'r grows for me:
As if his wish sufficed alone,
To make each noblest prize his own.
Yet 'tis not always done so easily.

FAUST.
My good Sir Knight of pedantry,
Lay not thou down the law to me!
And this, for good and all, be told,
Unless, this very night, I hold
The sweet young maid in my embrace—
'Tis the last time that you shall see my face.

MEPHISTOPHELES.
Bethink thee!—what with here, and what with there,
The thing requires a little care.
Full fourteen days must first be spent,
To come upon the proper scent.

FAUST.
Had I but seven hours of rest,
The Devil's aid I'd ne'er request,
To do with this young creature as I list.

MEPHISTOPHELES.
You speak as if you were a Frenchman born;
But though the end be good, we must not scorn
The means; what boots the mere gratification?
It is the best half of the recreation,
When, up and down, and to and fro,
The pretty doll, through every kind
Of fiddle-faddle sweet flirtation,
You knead out first, and dress up to your mind—
As many an Italian tale can shew.

FAUST.
I need no tricks to whet my zest.

MEPHISTOPHELES.
Without abuse, and without jest,
I tell thee flat, it is in vain
To win the damsel by a coup de main.
Storming is useless here; we must submit
By stratagem and guile to master it.

FAUST.
Bring me some jewels of this treasure!
The ground she treads on let me measure!
A kerchief of her chaste attire!
A garter of my heart's desire!

MEPHISTOPHELES.
That you may see how I would fain
Do every thing to ease your pain,
We shall not lose a single minute,
I know her room—thou shalt enjoy thee in it.

FAUST.
And I shall see her?—have her?

MEPHISTOPHELES.
No!
While she is at a neighbour's, thou
Shalt free and unembarrassed go,
And on the hope of joys that wait thee,
Within her atmosphere shalt sate thee.

FAUST.
Can we go now?

MEPHISTOPHELES.
No we must wait till night.

FAUST.
Go fetch a present for my heart's delight.

(Exit.)
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Presents already! good!—a lover should not loiter!
I know some dainty spots of ground,
Where hidden treasures may be found;
I will straight go and reconnoitre.

(Exit.)

SCENE V.

A small neat Chamber.
MARGARET.
(plaiting and putting up her hair.)
I wonder who the gentleman could be,
That on the street accosted me to-day!
He looked a gallant cavalier and gay,
And must be of a noble family.
That I could read upon his brow—
Else had he never been so free.

(Exit.)
Enter Faust and Mephistopheles.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Come in—but softly—we are landed now!

FAUST.
(after a pause.)
Leave me alone a minute, I entreat!

MEPHISTOPHELES.
(looking round about.)
Not every maiden keeps her room so neat.

(Exit.)
FAUST.
(looking round.)

MEPHISTOPHELES.
(coming back.)
Quick! quick! I see her—she'll be here anon.

FAUST.
Yes, let's be gone! for once and all be gone!

MEPHISTOPHELES.
Here is a casket, of a goodly weight;
Its former lord, I ween, bewails its fate.
Come put it in the press. I swear
She'll lose her senses, when she sees it here.
The trinkets, that I stow'd within it
Were bait meant for a nobler prey:
But child is child, and play is play.

FAUST.
I know not—shall I?

MEPHISTOPHELES.
Can you doubt a minute?
Would you then keep the dainty pelf,
Like an old miser, to yourself?
If so, I would advise you, sir,
All further trouble me to spare,
And better pastimes for yourself prepare
Then looking lustfully at her.
I scratch my head and rub my hands that you—
(He puts the casket into the press and locks the door again.)
Come let's away!
With this sweet piece of womanhood may do,
According as your heart's desire may say;
And you stand there,
And gape and stare,
As if you looked into a lecture-room,
And there the twin grey spectres saw,
Physic and Metaphysica!
Come! come!—

(Exeunt.)
(Enter Margaret, with a lamp.)
MARGARET.
(While taking off her clothes, she sings.)
(She opens the press to put in her clothes, and sees the casket.)

SCENE VI.

A Walk.
Faust going up and down thoughtfully, then enter Mephistopheles.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
By all the pangs of love! by all the blasts of hell!
Or any other curse, if curse there be more fell!

FAUST.
How now Mephisto? what the devil's wrong?
I ne'er beheld a face one half so long!

MEPHISTOPHELES.
But that I am a devil myself, I'd sell
Both soul and body on the spot to hell!

FAUST.
I verily believe you've lost your wits!
Beseems it then Satanic dignity,
To fall into such wild fantastic fits,
Outrageous more than bedlamite may be?

MEPHISTOPHELES.
Only conceive! the box of rare gewgaws
For Margaret got, is in a parson's claws!
The thing came to the mother's sight,
Who soon suspected all was not right:
The woman has got a most delicate nose,
That snuffling through the prayer-book goes,
And seldom scents a thing in vain,
If it be holy or profane;
Your jewels, she was not long in guessing,
Were not like to bring a blessing.
My child, quoth she, ill-gotten gear
Ensnares the soul, consumes the blood;
We'll give it to Mary-mother dear,
And she will feed us with heavenly food!
Margaret look'd blank—'tis hard, thought she,
To put a God-send away from me,
And surely godless was he never
Who lodg'd it in the press so clever.
The mother then brought in the priest;
He quickly understood the jest,
And his eyes water'd at the sight.
Good dame, quoth he, you have done right!
The prize is his who wins the fight.—
The Church is a most dainty lady,
And her stomach holds good store,
Has swallowed lands on lands already,
And, still unglutted, craves for more;
The Church alone, my ladies dear,
Can digest ill-gotten gear.

FAUST.
That is a universal fashion—Jew.
And King, and Kaiser have it too.

MEPHISTOPHELES.
Then ring and ear-ring, and necklace, and casket,
Like a bundle of toad-stools away he bore;
Thanked her no less, and thanked her no more,
Than had it been so many nuts in a basket.
On heavenly treasures then held an oration—
Much, of course, to their edification.

FAUST.
And Margaret?

MEPHISTOPHELES.
Sits now in restless mood,
Knows neither what she would, nor what she should,
Thinks on the trinkets night and day,
And on him who gave them, more.

FAUST.
Sweet love! her grief doth vex me sore.
Mephisto, mark well what I say!
Get her another set straightway!
The first were not so very fine.

MEPHISTOPHELES.
O yes! with you all things are children's play!

FAUST.
And recollect that this affair is mine!
Throw thee oft in her neighbour's way.
Be not a devil of milk and water,
And for another gift go cater.

MEPHISTOPHELES.
Yes, gracious sir! most humbly I obey.

(Exit Faust.)
MEPHISTOPHELES.
(solus.)
Such love-sick fools as these would blow
Sun, moon, and stars, like vilest stuff,
To nothing, with a single puff,
To make their lady-love a show!

SCENE VII.

Martha's House.
Martha alone.
MARTHA.
In honest truth, it was not nobly done,
In my good spouse to leave me here alone!
May God forgive him! while he roams at large,
O'er the wide world, I live at my own charge.
Sure he could have no reason to complain,
So good a wife he'll not find soon again.
(She weeps.)
He may be dead!—Ah me!—could I but know,
By a certificate, if it be so!

Enter Margaret.
MARGARET.
Martha!

MARTHA.
What wouldst thou, dear?

MARGARET.
My knees can scarcely bear me!—only hear!
I found a second box to-day
Of ebon-wood, just where the first one lay,
All full of jewels passing rare,
And richer than the former were.

MARTHA.
You must not tell this to your mother—
'Twould fare no better than the other.

MARGARET.
Only come near, and see! look here!

MARTHA.
(decking her with the jewels.)
Thou art a lucky little dear!

MARGARET.
And yet I dare not thus be seen
In church, or on the public green.

MARTHA.
Come over here when thou hast time to spare,
And deck thee with the jewels secretly;
Then promenade an hour before the mirror there,
It is a joy at least to thee and me.
Then on a Sunday, on a holiday,
Our riches by degrees we can display,
A necklace first, the drops then in your ear;
Your mother sees it not, and should she hear,
'Tis easy to invent some fair pretence or other.

MARGARET.
But whence the pretty caskets came? I fear
There's something in it not right altogether.
(knocking.)
Good God!—I hear a step—is it my mother?

MARTHA.
(looking through the casement.)
'Tis a strange gentleman.—Come in!

Enter Mephistopheles.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
I hope the ladies will not think me rude,
That uninvited thus I here intrude.
(Observing Margaret, he draws back respectfully.)
I have commands for Mistress Martha Schwerdtlein!

MARTHA.
'Tis here! what has the gentleman to say?

MEPHISTOPHELES.
(softly to her.)
Excuse my freedom. I perceive that you
Have visitors of rank to-day;
For this time I shall bid adieu,
And after dinner do myself the pleasure
To wait upon you, when you're more at leisure.

MARTHA.
(aloud.)
Think, child! of all things in the world the last!
My Margaret for a lady should have pass'd!

MARGARET.
The gentleman is far too good;
I am a simple girl—boast neither wealth nor blood.
This dress, these jewels, are not mine.

MEPHISTOPHELES.
'Tis not the dress alone that I admire,
She has a mien, a gait, a look so fine,
That speak the lady more than costliest attire.

MARTHA.
And now your business, sir? I much desire—

MEPHISTOPHELES.
I would I had a better tale to tell!
Small thanks I should receive, I knew it well.
Your man is dead—his compliments I bear.

MARTHA.
Is dead! the good fond soul! O woe!
My man is dead! what shall I do?

MARGARET.
Beseech thee, dearest Martha, don't despair.

MEPHISTOPHELES.
Now hear my mournful story to the end.

MARGARET.
I would not love a man on earth, to rend
Me thus with grief, when he should chance to die.

MEPHISTOPHELES.
Joy hath its sorrow, sorrow hath its joy;
Twin sisters are they, as the proverb saith.

MARTHA.
Now let me hear the manner of his death.

MEPHISTOPHELES.
Where Padua's holy turrets rise,
Above the grave of Antony,
On consecrated ground he lies,
And slumbers for eternity.

MARTHA.
No further message then he gave thee?

MEPHISTOPHELES.
Yes! one request, both great and heavy.
For his soul's peace, your husband wanted
Three hundred masses to be chanted!
This is the whole of my commission.

MARTHA.
What! not a jewel? not a coin?
No journeyman, however poor,
However wild, could make such an omission;
But in the bottom of his pouch is sure
To keep some small memorial for his wife,
And rather beg, and rather pine
Away the remnant of his life—

MEPHISTOPHELES.
Madam! though I am loath, the truth must be confess'd,
Your worthy husband had no gold to waste.
His grievous errors he lamented sore—
Yes! and bewailed his own mishap much more.

MARGARET.
Alas for all the miseries of mankind!
He shall not want my oft-repeated prayer.

MEPHISTOPHELES.
Thou gentle heart dost well deserve to find
A husband worthy of a prize so fair.

MARGARET.
Ah no!—for that, it is too soon.

MEPHISTOPHELES.
A lover then might in the mean time do.
'Tis bounteous Heaven's choicest boon
To fondle in one's arm so sweet a thing as you.

MARGARET.
Such things are never done with us.

MEPHISTOPHELES.
Done or not done!—It may be managed thus:—

MARTHA.
Now let me hear!

MEPHISTOPHELES.
By his death-bed I stood.
It was a little better than of dung,
Of mouldy straw; there, as a Christian should,
With many a sin repented on his tongue,
He died.—Oh! how must I detest
Myself, he said, my substance thus to waste,
And my dear wife abandon so!
It kills me with the simple memory,
Oh that she might forgive me ere I die!

MARTHA.
(weeping.)
Good soul! I have forgiven him long ago.

MEPHISTOPHELES.
(continuing his interrupted narrative.)
And yet was she, God knows, much more to blame than I.

MARTHA.
What! did he lie?—on the grave's brink to lie!

MEPHISTOPHELES.
He fabled to the last, be sure,
If I am half a connoisseur.
In sooth, I had no time to gape, he said,
First to get children, then to get them bread,
To clothe them, and to put them to a trade,
From toil and labour I had no release,
And could not even eat my own small share in peace.

MARTHA.
Can it then be? has he forgotten quite
My fag and drudgery, by day and night?

MEPHISTOPHELES.
Not quite! he thought on you, and kindly too.
When last we sailed from Malta—so he said,
For wife and children fervently I prayed,
And Heaven a favourable gale then blew.
We came across a Turkish ship that bore
Home bullion, to increase the Sultan's store,
And, with our wonted valour, we
Gained a triumphant victory.
The precious spoil was shared among the crew,
And I received the part that was my due.

MARTHA.
But where and how?—has he then buried it?

MEPHISTOPHELES.
Who knows where the four winds have hurried it!
A lady took him under her protection
At Naples, as he wandered to and fro;
She left him many a mark of her affection,
As he to his life's end had cause to know.

MARTHA.
The knave to treat his helpless orphans so!
To all our misery and all our need,
Amid his reckless life he gave no heed!

MEPHISTOPHELES.
And, as you see, he suffers for it now.
Were I in your place, mark what I would do;
I'd mourn him one chaste year, and, at my leisure,
I'd look about me for a second treasure.

MARTHA.
Alas! God knows it would be hard to find
Another so completely to my mind.
A better-hearted fool you never knew,
A love of roving was his only vice;
And foreign wine, and foreign women too,
And the accursed gambling dice.

MEPHISTOPHELES.
Such marriage-articles were most convenient,
Had he to you been only half so lenient.
On terms like these myself had no objection,
To change with you the ring of conjugal affection.

MARTHA.
The gentleman seems fond of pleasantry!

MEPHISTOPHELES.
(to himself.)
Now I'll be off, for if I longer tarry here,
'Tis like she'd nail the devil himself to marry her!
(To Margaret.)
How stands it with your heart then?—is it free?

MARGARET.
I scarce know what you mean.

MEPHISTOPHELES.
Sweet guileless heart!
Ladies, farewell!

MARGARET.
Farewell!

MARTHA.
One word before we part!
I fain would have it solemnly averred,
How my dear husband died, and where he was interred;
A friend to order I have always been,
His death must in the newspapers be seen.

MEPHISTOPHELES.
Yes, mistress! when two witnesses attest,
As Scripture saith, the truth is manifest;
I have a friend, who, at your requisition,
Before the judge will make a deposition.
I'll bring him here.

MARTHA.
Yes, bring him with you.

MEPHISTOPHELES.
And we shall meet your fair young lady too?
(To Margaret.)
A gallant youth!—has been abroad, and seen
The world—a perfect cavalier, I trow.

MARGARET.
'Twould make me blush, should he bestow
A single look on one so mean.

MEPHISTOPHELES.
You have no cause to be asham'd before
The proudest king, that ever sceptre bore.

MARTHA.
This evening we expect you in the garden.

SCENE VIII.

A Street.
FAUST.
How now? what news? how speed your labours?

MEPHISTOPHELES.
Bravo! 'tis well you are on fire,
Soon shall you have your heart's desire.
This evening you shall meet her at her neighbour's:
A dame 'tis to a nicety made
For the bawd and gipsey trade.

FAUST.
'Tis well.

MEPHISTOPHELES.
But you must lend a hand, and so must I.

FAUST.
One good turn deserves another.

MEPHISTOPHELES.
We must appear before a judge together,
And solemnly there testify,
That stiff and stark her worthy spouse doth lie,
Beside the shrine of holy Antony.

FAUST.
Most wise! we must first make a goodly travel!

MEPHISTOPHELES.
Sancta simplicitas! what stuff you drivel!
We may make oath and not know much about it.

FAUST.
Hast thou no other plan?—'tis dished—I scout it.

MEPHISTOPHELES.
O holy man that would outwit the devil!
Is it the first time in your life that you
Have sworn to what you knew could not be true?
Of God, the world, and all that it contains,
Of man, and all that circles in his veins,
Or dwells within the compass of his brains,
Have you not pompous definitions given,
With swelling breast and dogmatizing brow,
As if you were an oracle from heaven?
And yet, if to the bottom you would go,
You knew as much of all these things, in faith,
As now you know of Master Schwerdtlein's death!

FAUST.
Thou art, and wert, a sophist and a liar.

MEPHISTOPHELES.
Yes, unless one could mount a little higher.
To-morrow I shall hear you pour
False vows that silly girl before,
Swear to do every thing to serve her,
And love her with a quenchless fervour.

FAUST.
And from my heart too.

MEPHISTOPHELES.
Oh! of course, of course!
Then will you speak, till you are hoarse,
Of love, and constancy, and truth,
And feelings of eternal youth—
Will that too be the simple sooth?

FAUST.
It will! it will!—for when I feel,
And for the feeling, the confusion
Of feelings, that absorbs my mind,
Seek for names, and none can find,
Sweep through the universe's girth,
For every highest word to give it birth;
And then this soul-pervading flame,
Infinite, endless, endless name,
Call you this nought but devilish delusion?

MEPHISTOPHELES.
Still I am right!

FAUST.
Hold! mark me this!
I prythee spare my lungs, for true it is—
Who will be right, and only has a tongue,
Is never wrong.
Come, I confess thee master in debating,
That I may be delivered from thy prating.