 | Goethe's Faust : First Part |  |
39
SCENE III.
Faust's Study.Faust, entering with the Poodle.
Faust.
I have forsaken field and meadow,
Enshrouded now in deepest night,
With boding of mysterious horror
My better soul wakes, craving light.
The wilder passions now are sleeping,
The rage for fierce activity,
The love of Man within me wakens,
The love of God awakes in me.
Enshrouded now in deepest night,
With boding of mysterious horror
My better soul wakes, craving light.
The wilder passions now are sleeping,
The rage for fierce activity,
The love of Man within me wakens,
The love of God awakes in me.
Be quiet Poodle! Stop running to and fro!
At the threshold why sniffest thou?
Behind the stove lie down there—go!
My softest cushion I give thee now.
As thou out there on the craggy way
With running and leaping didst do thy best
To cheer us, I pledge thee my word, and say
I welcome thee, be but a quiet guest.
At the threshold why sniffest thou?
Behind the stove lie down there—go!
My softest cushion I give thee now.
As thou out there on the craggy way
With running and leaping didst do thy best
To cheer us, I pledge thee my word, and say
I welcome thee, be but a quiet guest.
Ah! when within our narrow cell
The friendly lamp burns clear agen
Clear in the breast grows all as well
In hearts that know themselves, and then
Reason once more begins to speak,
And Hope once more begins to bloom
After Life's brooks yearning we seek,
After Life's source—ah! through the gloom.
The friendly lamp burns clear agen
Clear in the breast grows all as well
In hearts that know themselves, and then
Reason once more begins to speak,
And Hope once more begins to bloom
After Life's brooks yearning we seek,
After Life's source—ah! through the gloom.
Growl not so Poodle! with the heavenly tones
Embracing my whole spirit in ecstasy.
Vilely thy brutish howls agree.
We are used to this that men ever despise
What they don't understand.
That the Good, the Beautiful 'neath their eyes
Puzzles their dulness, sets them growling;
Will my own dog take like them to howling?
Embracing my whole spirit in ecstasy.
40
We are used to this that men ever despise
What they don't understand.
That the Good, the Beautiful 'neath their eyes
Puzzles their dulness, sets them growling;
Will my own dog take like them to howling?
But ah! with the best will I feel too well
Peace in my breast will never more upswell.
But wherefore should the stream so soon run dry,
And leave me again in thirst to lie?
Oft I've experienced the privation,
Yet may supply this want in a measure
Things higher than earthly we learn to treasure,
We long still for some Revelation,
Which purer nowhere shines with light Heaven-sent,
Than here in the New Testament.
Peace in my breast will never more upswell.
But wherefore should the stream so soon run dry,
And leave me again in thirst to lie?
Oft I've experienced the privation,
Yet may supply this want in a measure
Things higher than earthly we learn to treasure,
We long still for some Revelation,
Which purer nowhere shines with light Heaven-sent,
Than here in the New Testament.
I am forced for new examination
The ground-text to unclasp once more,
With reverent mind, for new examination
The Holy Original again to explore,
Make in my own dear German a new translation.
(He opens the Book, and prepares to write.)
'Tis writ: “In the beginning was the Word,”
I stick fast here! Who now can help afford?
I cannot for the Word claim power so great,
This I must otherwise translate
If by the Spirit I am rightly taught,
'Tis writ: “In the beginning was the Thought.”
But o'er this first line ponder still
Lest over-haste misguide thy quill.
Is it the Thought creates, works hour by hour?
It should stand: “In the Beginning was the Power.”
Yet, as I write it down, unsatisfied,
Some warning comes, “In this do not abide.”
The Spirit helps! counsel comes now at need,
Boldly I write: “In the Beginning was the Deed.”
If with thee I must share my dwelling,
Poodle stop howling and yelling,
Stop barking there!
Such a troublesome comrade I ne'er
Could tolerate as near neighbour, I trow.
One of us now
Quits the cell I vow!
Guest-right it grieves me to give thee no more,
Thy path is free through the open door.
But now what must I see!
Spawned Nature a thing like thee?
Is this a phantom, or see I aright?
How swells my poodle in length, breadth, height!
He rises with mighty force,
No form of a dog shows he!
What goblin have I brought home with me!
He takes the form of a river-horse,
With fiery eyes, and teeth in dreadful row.
Ha! now thy race I know!
For such as thy half-hellish brood
The key of Solomon is good.
The ground-text to unclasp once more,
With reverent mind, for new examination
The Holy Original again to explore,
Make in my own dear German a new translation.
(He opens the Book, and prepares to write.)
'Tis writ: “In the beginning was the Word,”
I stick fast here! Who now can help afford?
I cannot for the Word claim power so great,
This I must otherwise translate
If by the Spirit I am rightly taught,
'Tis writ: “In the beginning was the Thought.”
But o'er this first line ponder still
Lest over-haste misguide thy quill.
Is it the Thought creates, works hour by hour?
It should stand: “In the Beginning was the Power.”
Yet, as I write it down, unsatisfied,
Some warning comes, “In this do not abide.”
The Spirit helps! counsel comes now at need,
Boldly I write: “In the Beginning was the Deed.”
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Poodle stop howling and yelling,
Stop barking there!
Such a troublesome comrade I ne'er
Could tolerate as near neighbour, I trow.
One of us now
Quits the cell I vow!
Guest-right it grieves me to give thee no more,
Thy path is free through the open door.
But now what must I see!
Spawned Nature a thing like thee?
Is this a phantom, or see I aright?
How swells my poodle in length, breadth, height!
He rises with mighty force,
No form of a dog shows he!
What goblin have I brought home with me!
He takes the form of a river-horse,
With fiery eyes, and teeth in dreadful row.
Ha! now thy race I know!
For such as thy half-hellish brood
The key of Solomon is good.
Spirits in the Passage.
Prisoned within is one of us,
Stay without, follow him none of us!
Like a fox in a trap,
Quakes an old Lynx of Hell, mayhap.
But beware!
Hover near and hover again,
Up and down,
Till he break the Wizard's chain.
If the Seer ye can outwit,
In the lurch let him not sit,
Plagued by spells that sting and burn,
We owe him many a good turn.
Faust.
To baffle this beast with my lore
I need the spell of the Four:
Salamander fly glowing,
Sylph vanish, in air,
Nymph in streamlets fast flowing,
Gnome swink in thy lair!
I need the spell of the Four:
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Sylph vanish, in air,
Nymph in streamlets fast flowing,
Gnome swink in thy lair!
Who knows not aright
Each element's might
All their powers and special dowers,
No Master he
Of the Spirits' can be.
Each element's might
All their powers and special dowers,
No Master he
Of the Spirits' can be.
In flames fly glowing,
Salamander!
Rush in one channel flowing
Nymph of the streams!
Shine in the meteor's gleams
Sylph so light!
Tend the house to-night,
Incubus, Incubus!
Come forth and end this game 'twixt us!
Salamander!
Rush in one channel flowing
Nymph of the streams!
Shine in the meteor's gleams
Sylph so light!
Tend the house to-night,
Incubus, Incubus!
Come forth and end this game 'twixt us!
None of the Four
Has the beast in his core
He lies quite quiet and grins at me;
I have not twinged him yet I see.
For thy probation
Hear a stronger conjuration!
Mate of my cell
Play'st thou truant from Hell?
Behold this sign
To whose power divine
Bow the Hosts of darkness there!
Has the beast in his core
He lies quite quiet and grins at me;
I have not twinged him yet I see.
For thy probation
Hear a stronger conjuration!
Mate of my cell
Play'st thou truant from Hell?
Behold this sign
To whose power divine
Bow the Hosts of darkness there!
He swells up now with bristling hair.
Reprobate Spirit,
Can'st read, endure it?
The Uncreated
Ineffable Word
Effused through all Heaven,
Our sin-pierced Lord.
Can'st read, endure it?
The Uncreated
Ineffable Word
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Our sin-pierced Lord.
Spell-bound behind the stove he lies,
Swelling an elephant in size.
Soon the whole room his girth will fill,
Then in a cloud away 'twill fleet.
Tower not to the very roof
Lie down there at thy Master's feet.
I threatened not in vain, behold the proof!
I'll singe thee now with holy fire
Wait not, foul Sprite,
The three-times glowing light,
Wait not foul Sprite,
My Art's most potent assay!
Swelling an elephant in size.
Soon the whole room his girth will fill,
Then in a cloud away 'twill fleet.
Tower not to the very roof
Lie down there at thy Master's feet.
I threatened not in vain, behold the proof!
I'll singe thee now with holy fire
Wait not, foul Sprite,
The three-times glowing light,
Wait not foul Sprite,
My Art's most potent assay!
Mephistopheles.
(As the mist disappears, stepping out from behind the stove in the dress of a Travelling Scholar.)
Why all this fuss? Command, and I obey!
Faust.
This was the poodle's kernel, eh?
A travelling scholar, I laugh the climax to see.
Mephistopheles.
To the learn'd Doctor my respects I pay!
Well, you have soundly sweated me.
Faust.
What is thy name?
Mephistopheles.
Paltry the question seems
For one who treats the Word with such disdain,
And, far aloof from all that seems,
Still strives to catch Substance in vain.
Faust.
With you, sirs, one may as usual claim
To read your nature in your name,
44
When you are called Fly-God, Corrupter, Liar also.
Good! but who art thou, then?
Mephistopheles.
A part of that great Power,
Which would work evil still, yet brings forth good each hour.
Faust.
What hidden meaning in this paradox lies?
Mephistopheles.
I am the Spirit that still denies!
And there I am right for all that space brings forth,
Save through destruction is nothing worth.
Far better there were no creation,
What ye call ruin, sin, devastation,
In short all things that ye call evil,
Are my own element as Devil!
Faust.
Thou call'st thyself a part, yet standest whole by me?
Mephistopheles.
The modest truth I tell to thee.
Though Man, that foolish little world, so droll,
Is prone to think himself a whole,
Part of a part am I, who at the first was all,
Part of the Darkness of whom Light was born,
Proud Light, that now would work his Mother's Fall,
Sieging her ancient throne in space each morn;
Yet ne'er succeeds, howe'er his craft he plies,
For Light to matter ever clings,
From matter streams he, matter beautifies,
Matter arrests his thought-swift wings;
And soon I hope will come the day
When Light in matter's wreck will fade away.
Faust.
Ha! now I know thy worthy employ!
In great things nought can'st thou destroy,
So triest thy hand upon things small.
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Yet little way in sooth I make at all.
O'er what is Nothing's enemy,
That Something, this botched world we see,
So far as I have tried as yet,
But small advantage I can get,
With storms, waves, earthquakes, lightning's brand
There, when all's done, at peace lie sea and land!
And even from that damned stuff, the beastly-human brood,
Nothing I've gained, long as I've worried.
How many thousands have I buried
Yet ever circulates anew the fresh young blood.
So it goes on, one might go mad beholding:
In earth and water, as in air
A thousand germs one sees unfolding
In warmth and cold, in moist and dry!
Had I not in the flame reserved a lair,
Nought for my private shelter had I.
Faust.
So strivest thou still to resist
Benign creation's motive force,
Shak'st at it thy cold Devil's fist
And find'st thy spite foiled in due course.
Seek, then, some new task to discover,
Whimsical Son of Chaos now.
Mephistopheles.
Well, we must really think it over,
At our next meeting, I and thou.
But now may I make bold to leave you?
Faust.
Why thou should'st ask I don't quite see
I have but now made thy acquaintance;
Pray visit me when thou art free.
Here is the door, and here the window,
Or by the chimney enter, pray!
46
Let me confess, there's a slight hindrance here,
I simply cannot walk away,
The Druid's Foot upon your threshold.
Faust.
The Pentagram plagues thee, I fear.
Ha! Son of Hell, I prithee tell me
If that's a bar, how camest thou in here?
How could I such a spirit delude?
Mephistopheles.
Look at it well! Your drawing is not good.
One angle pointing, to the exit now,
You left half-open, as you see.
Faust.
That was a stroke of luck for me!
And then my prisoner wast thou
Thus no doubt was thy guile confounded!
Mephistopheles.
The Poodle saw nothing, as headlong in he bounded.
But now the thing is t'other way about,
The Devil's in the house, and can't get out.
Faust.
Then why not through the window flee?
Mephistopheles.
It is the law for Devils and ghost, you see:
That where they first creep in they must again creep out.
The one way we are free, the other slaves fast-bound.
Faust.
Hell even has laws? Thou art in pound!
That suits me well, can I then make a pact
With that swart crew that shall be binding still?
Mephistopheles.
All that we promise, you shall enjoy at will,
We are not stingy, nothing we retract.
Terms are not settled easily though,
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And now most earnestly I pray
That you will this time let me go.
Faust.
Yet still a moment more remain,
With some good story beguile my leisure!
Mephistopheles.
Nay, let me go! I'll soon come back again;
Then you may question at your pleasure.
Faust.
I did not set a trap for thee,
Into the snare didst thou rush amain.
But catch the Devil, and set him free,
You'll not so soon ensnare the slippery rogue again.
Mephistopheles.
Well, if you please, I'm ready here to stay
Awhile to keep you company
But on condition we wile away
The time with my fine magic pleasantly.
Faust.
I'll see it gladly. Play freely thy part
But give me pleasure with thine art!
Mephistopheles.
Thou shalt, my friend, in this brief hour
Learn more of thy own sense's power
Than ever in a year before.
What now my delicate spirits sing thee,
The splendid visions that they bring thee,
Are not mere magic but something more.
Odours upon thee they will pour,
Upon thy palate flavours lavish
With joys of sense all senses ravish.
We need no dull rehearsal here
Begin, ye spirits, hovering near!
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Vanish, ye gloomy
Vaults where ye frown!
In the ravishing hue
Of Heaven's tenderest blue
Ether look down!
If but the gloomy
Clouds would roll by,
Stars would be twinkling,
Now in the sky
Suns mildly gleaming
Softly would shine
Children of Heaven
Spirits divine
With undulant motion
We see you glide by,
Loving and longing,
Seek you in the sky,
While your bright raiment's
Fluttering strands
Float o'er the bowers,
Float o'er broad lands,
Float o'er the bowers
Where in revery deep
Lovers their troth plight
Swear ever to keep.
Bower after bower!
Vine-branches grow fat,
Heavy grape-clusters
Fall in the vat,
From the wine-press's crushing
The clear wine comes foaming,
In streamlets fast-gushing
Through clear channels roaming,
Like jewels down-rushing,
Leaving the mountains
Lying behind them,
Broadening to lakelets,
Round hillocks they wind them,
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And birds of the air
Sip from each streamlet
A joy without care.
Flying then sunward,
Flying away
Tow'rd yonder clear islands
Far over the bay,
That seem to be heaving
On billows that sway;
Heark to yon chorus,
Who, striding along,
With voices sonorous
Rejoice in their song!
In the green meadows
The dancers we see
Scattered in parties
Over the lea.
Some in hill-climbing
Their pleasure will take,
Others are swimming
Over the lake
And lover by lover
The dancers still hover,
All glad to be living,
All gazing afar,
While grace falls from heaven
From every star.
Mephistopheles.
He sleeps! 'Tis well! My elves, airy and young!
And soundly too. Well have ye sung,
And for this concert I am in your debt
Well, thou art not the man the Devil to bind, as yet!
Play round him still, with sweet dreams lull his mind,
Sink him in seas of phantasy uncouth!
But now, to break the threshold-spell, I find
The thing I need is a rat's tooth.
I need no lengthy conjuration,
50
Lord of rats, and eke of mice,
Flies, and frogs and bugs, and lice!
Hasten hither without fear,
And gnaw for me this threshold here,
As though oil on it were dropt—
Why here already thou hast hoppt!
Now quick to work! The point that bars my way
Just tips that angle, nip it, pray!
Now one bite more, the thing is done!
Till our next merry meeting, Faust, sleep on!
Faust
(awaking.)
Can I then be once more deluded?
Vanished is now the throng of Spirits, I see,
That with a false dream of the Devil deceived me,
And of a poodle that ran away from me.
| Goethe's Faust : First Part | |