University of Virginia Library

Ritter-saal, dimly lighted. Kaiser and Court have entered. Herald, Astrologer, Mephistopheles, Architect, Faustus, Ladies, Ritters, &c.
Herald.
The usage of announcing our new play
Must to necessity for once give way.
The Spirits keep their secrets, and in vain
We seek the hidden magic to explain.
The seats arranged, the chairs are ready all—
The emperor placed in front of the high wall.
There, worked in tapestry, he may behold
In peace the wars of the great days of old.
Now the court circle's filled, and all around
Crowds throng the benches, lining the background.
Lovers find room near lovers, and their fear
Will press them closer when the Ghosts appear.
And so, all being settled and at ease,
We are quite ready. Rise, Ghosts, if you please.

[Trumpets.
Astrologer.
Begin the Drama! 'tis the Sire's command.
Obedient to his will, ye Walls expand!
Magic for everything that we require,
In any exigency, is at hand.
The curtain, curling as though touched by fire,
Is gone—the wall divides—turns round, and there
Before us stands, far in, a theatre,
With light mysterious—none can say whence come;—
And I ascend to the Proscenium.

Mephistopheles
(peeping out of the prompter's box).
No player like me, so up to all stage trick!
And prompting is the devil's rhetoric.
[To the Astrologer.
The tune, to which the Stars keep time, you hear,
You'll catch my whispers with but half an ear.

Astrologer.
By Magic raised a temple here behold,
A massive structure of the days of old—
Like Atlas, who propped heaven up long ago,
Stand pillars, plenty of them, in a row.
Their load of stone such columns well may bear:
'Twere a large building asked more than a pair.

Architect.
And this is the Antique! You cannot force
Me into praising it—'tis cumbrous, coarse.
But Rough, it seems, is Noble; Clumsy, Grand.
Give me the structure men can understand.
Our long, thin, narrow pillars, I so love,
Striving into the Boundlessness above.
The sharp-arched zenith lifts us to the skies.
Give me the edifice that edifies!

Astrologer.
Welcome with reverence this star-favoured hour;
Be Reason bound in words of magic power;
Let Fancy lord it, wandering, wild and free;
All the Mind images the Eye will see;
All the Eye sees, the Mind as true receive:
It is Impossible, and so Believe.

[Faustus is seen ascending on the other side of the proscenium.
Astrologer.
In priestly robe attired, with flower-wreathed brow,
A great magician stands before you now,
Redeeming the bold promise that he gave—
A tripod with him from a hollow cave
Of the realms under earth is rising up:
I feel the fragrance of the incense-cup.
He bounes him now the mighty work to bless,
And we can augur nothing but success.

Faustus.
In your name, oh, ye Mothers! you, whose throne
Is in the Boundless—you, who dwell alone,
Yet not in uncompanioned loneliness.
Around your head the flitting fantasms press
Of life, yet without life. What was, what cast
The splendour of its presence on the Past,
Yonder, as erst, abides eternally—
It was, and having been, will ever be.
It you distribute, beings of all might,
To day's pavilion, to the vault of night:
Some thro' life's cheerful pageant sport their hour,
Some the bold Magian seeks, and subjects to his power,
And, fearless now, to the expectant gaze
His wonder-works he lavishly displays.

Astrologer.
The burning key hath scarcely touched the bowl,
When round us undulating vapours roll,
And in, like rising clouds, the dense mists slide,
Wave—lengthen—form a sphere—unite—divide—
Are two—and they—surpassing wonder of
The Spirits' skill!—make music as they move.
It comes, one knows not how, from tones of air;
The melody moves with them everywhere.
The pillar-shaft, the very triglyph rings;
I do believe that all the temple sings.
From the light veil, as by the music led,
A lovely youth steps forth with measured tread.
The waving mist-wreath falls. He stands out clear.
Who does not see the graceful Paris here?

Lady.
What vigour there! and with such youthful grace!

Second Lady.
How fresh the peach-bloom on that fair soft face!

Third Lady.
How finely carved each sweet and swelling lip.

Fourth Lady.
From such a cup delicious 'twere to sip.

Fifth Lady.
He's handsome, but I cannot think refined.

Sixth Lady.
More elegant he might be, to my mind.

Knight.
I see the traces of the shepherd boy;
No manners—nothing of the Prince of Troy.

Second Knight.
Yes, thus half naked he looks pretty well:
Show him in armour—that's the way to tell.

Lady.
How calmly he inclines him—he would rest.

Knight.
A pleasant couch for you were that soft breast.

Lady.
He bends his arm above his head—what grace!

Chamberlain.
Rudeness—'gainst all proprieties of place.

Lady.
Yon chamber-knights find fault for evermore.

Chamberlain.
To stretch and yawn before the emperor!

Lady.
He acts his part—he thinks himself alone.

Chamberlain.
The Theatre should not forget the Throne.

Lady.
Sleep on the fair youth softly seems to fall.

Chamberlain.
Belike he'll snore; you know 'tis nature all.

Young Lady
(enraptured).
What fragrance mixes with the incense-wreaths,
And on my heart delicious freshness breathes!

Elderly Lady.
Yes, all hearts feel a breath of rapturous power!
It flows from him.

Old Lady.
It is the growing flower
Of human life, that as ambrosia here
Blooms in the youth, and fills the atmosphere.

[Helena advances.
Mephistopheles.
This, then, was she! My rest she'll never break.
Fair, doubtless; but with me she does not take.

Astrologer.
Here all at fault, I own it, I must seem.
She comes! the all-beautiful! Oh that a tongue
Of fire were mine! The poets, who have sung
Of Beauty, did but picture their own dream.
They saw not. Who hath seen her—sees her—is
Entranced, is dumb. To win, to call her his—
Oh! that it could but be!—Wish wild and vain!

Faustus.
Do my eyes see? or deep within the brain
Doth the full fountain of all Beauty shed
Its gushing torrents? Oh! what glorious gain
Is mine! bright issue of that journey dread—
The world—yet undeveloped, undisclosed,
How mean! how abject!—rose up in the hour
Of my initiation, robed with power,
And on its own eternity reposed.
No painted cloud, no transitory gleam,
No sand-drift now of unsubstantial dream,
But kindred with man's heart, indeed divine.
If that in thought I ever part from thee,
Oh! may I in that moment cease to be!
The shape that won me from myself away
Amused me in the magic mirror's play—
How faint! how feeble, to these charms of thine!
In thee life's springs of power and passion live.
Life of my life! to thee myself I give!
Love! adoration! madness of the heart!

Mephistopheles
(from the prompter's box).
Collect yourself—you fall out of your part.

Elderly Lady.
Shapely and tall—only the head too small.

Younger.
Look at the foot—'tis clumsy after all.

Diplomatist.
I have seen princesses; from head to foot
I do pronounce her beauty absolute.

Courtier.
Softly she steals to where he sleeping is.

Lady.
She shocks me.—Near that pure young form of his!

Poet.
He is illumined in the light serene.

Lady.
Endymion!—Luna!—'tis the very scene
As painted.

Poet.
Yes; the goddess downward sinks,
And o'er the sleeper bends; his breath she drinks.
How enviable!—a kiss!—the measure's full.

Duenna.
What! before all the people—that is cool.

Faustus.
Distracting favour to the boy!

Mephistopheles.
Be still.
Do let the phantom lady have her will.

Courtier.
She glides away on light foot; he awakes.

Lady.
Looks back—I thought so—I make no mistakes.

Knight.
He's stricken dumb! ‘Is this the work of dreams?’
Thinks he: ‘what strange things came on me in sleep!’

Lady.
She is, methinks, a dame that knows, not ‘seems,’
And her experience holds such strange things cheap.

Courtier.
And now she turns to him with such calm grace.

Lady.
I see there's a new pupil in the case—
An unformed boy belike of tender age;
And she would take him into tutelage.
In such things all men are so very dull.
Poor lad! he fancies he's the first she has taught.

Knight.
What dignity! so calmly beautiful!

Lady.
A vile coarse wretch! no better than she ought.

Page.
Oh that I were in that young shepherd's place!

Courtier.
Who would not in a net like this be caught?

Lady.
The gem from time to time, with many a one,
Has been from hand to hand still shifted on—
The gilding rubbed off many a year ago.

Another Lady.
From ten years old she has been but so-so.

Knight.
Yes, Fortune favoured them. Yet how divine
The precious relic—would that it were mine.

Gelahrter.
I see her, but it is not free from doubt
That she's the Helen men so talk about.
The danger of illusion here is great;
The eye misleads and will exaggerate.
‘Stick to the written letter’ is my creed:
I look into my Homer, and I read
How she so pleased all the old men of Troy;
And here methinks the self-same thing we see:
I am not young, and she so pleases me.

Astrologer.
He hath cast off the dreamy shepherd-boy;
Wakes into hero—into man. See! see!
He seizes her—she hath no power to flee—
With his nerved arm uplifts her. Can it be?
Thinks he to force her hence?

Faustus
(to Paris).
Rash fool! give o'er.
Dare it! defy me! I can bear no more.

Mephistopheles.
These spirit-freaks, these odd extravagancies,
Are mere stage-trick—they but act out your fancies.

Astrologer.
One word. From what we see, I think we may
Presume ‘the Rape of Helen’ is the play.

Faustus.
What!—Rape?—Am I then nothing here? The key—
Is't not still in my hand? It guided me
Through waves, and horrors, and the hollow roar
Of wildernesses waste, to this firm shore.
Here do I plant my foot—here actual life
Is, and reality—high 'vantage ground
From which the spirit with spirits may well dare strife,
And for itself a double empire found.
She was—how far away! she is—how near!
Rescued, is doubly mine—is doubly dear.
Crown, Mothers, crown the daring with success.
Who hath known her must perish or possess!

Astrologer.
What dost thou, Faustus! Faustus! look at him!
He grasps at her!—the phantom shape grows dim.
Now to the youth he points the key—and, lo!
He touches; he hath touched him! Woe! woe! woe!

[Explosion. Faustus lies on the ground. The spirits go off in smoke.
Mephistopheles
(takes Faustus on his shoulder).
Aye, now he has it, aye. Yes, yes, just so;
Your fool's a heavy load in any case,
And brings the devil himself into disgrace.

[Darkness. Tumult.