Messrs. GEORGE ROUTLEDGE & SON^ believe that Ihere j is in England a very large public demand for good ,books. P^ey j believe it to 6e larg^;"' enough to justify the productioxr^.pf a unfl^m I series of very cheap volumes, advancing, in course of time, to^Nlrds j the reahzation^of a Univer-sal L"ibrary |hat shall contain fi)/ the i best and most significant books in the world, of aff times outMe the I time of Copyright,- and of all countries, so fac^ such boo^lcan be j found written in or rendered into: English* \ 'The Publisb^Kf wish to produce the best books at the cheapest &|.£e-^that is to'Wl^, in bound lid well-printed volumes of 320 pages for a Shy^jJ^. The Editor horn they have looked for aid in working out their purpose shares ith in the demand for easiest access to all forms of the world's d all forms of opinion that have helped to shape the lives ^a agrees therefore to be responsible for the selection of Nd in this way, and he will issue each of them with a n, giving son le account of its writer and some indica- " .erature.

ese volumes, as first published, there will be

that aims at variety. As they multiply

admit of any classification that most

^ will be in them the best Plays and

*he best books of Travel, Histories,

^cteristic in the speculations of

"^^ books of most mark in the

^nse of his relation towards

'^^me, from Confucius to

\to head the Greeks,

\j so forth. The

Xitor, if English

3 1153 DOlbSmO 7 ^compass of

BOOK 822.3.M34aF c. 1 MARLOWE # MARLOWES FAUSTUS

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SALLANTYNE, HANSON AND CO., EDINBURGH CHANDOS STREET, LONDON

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MARLOWE'S FaUSTUS f(^

GoETHE's Faust

from tbc 6erman

BY

JOHN ANSTER, LL.D.

JV/TH AN INTRODUCTION BY HENRY MORLEY

LL.D., PROFESSOR OF ENGLISH LITERATURE AT UNIVERSITY COJ.LEGE, LONDON

LONDON GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND SONS

BROADWAY, LUDGATE HILL NEW YORK: 9 LAFAYETTE PLACE

,< -7

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CONTENTS.

Faustus Faust .

PAGE

9 71

INTRODUCTION.

In the autumn of 1587, at the Fair of Frankfort-on-the-Main, then the headquarters of the German book trade, a bookseller named Johann Spies produced the first History of Johann Faust, the far-famed Magician and Black-Artist. It was entitled Historia vofi D. Joha7i7i Faustcn, de7n weit heschreyteji Zanberer und SchwartzkUnstler. The o;ily complete copy of it now known is in the Imperial Library at Vienna. The unknown writer of this book seems to have been a clergyman of the Reformed Church, who caught the attention of the people by stringing together incidents of magic associated with the fabulous career of a man who bad died some fifty years before, and whose name and fame survived him. The writer's desire was to warn against presumptuous sins ; to attack, through Faust, the pride of intellect that sets God at defiance, and through stories of Faust's magic to pour, now and then, Protestant scorn upon tlie Pope.

The original Faustus traded upon superstition in the Reformation time. The date assigned to his death, 1538, was eight years before that of Luther. The earliest known mention of him — if it be of him — is by a liberal scholar of high reputation, Johann Trittenheim (Trithemius) Abbot of Spanheim, who met him at Gelnhausen in May, 1506. He knew him as a Georgius Sabellicus, who boasted that if all the works of Plato and Aristotle were burnt, he could restore them from his memory. He avoided meeting Trittenheim, by whom he was despised as a charlatan, but left his card for him. On his card he described himself as " Magister Georgius Sabellicus, Faustus junior, fons necromanticorum, magus secundus, chiromanticus, agromanticus, pyromanticus, in hydra arte secundus." The name of "Faustus junior," in this first record of an actual magician taking the name of Faustus, might point to the fame of a preceding conjuror who had borne the name of Faustus in the latter part of the fifteenth century, and who had laid foundations of a common fame associated with tlie name, although there is no other trace of his existence. It may have been his actual name, or he may have taken it as a Latin addition, meaning Fortunate. A fifteenth century Faustus may have been one man, Georgius Sabellicus another, and. our Faustus (of whom, in that case, the first notice would be in 1525), a third. In 1513 Conrad Mudt, a friend of Melancthou, spoke of a braggart and fool who pretended to magic, whom he had found at Erfurth, calling himself "Georgius Faustus Hemitheus," (demigod) " of Heidelberg." An old Leipzig chronicle gives 1525 as the year in which Doctor Johann Faust rode before the eyes of many people out of Auerbach's cellar on a barrel of wine, with which he refreshed the students. The feat was celebrated by two pictures on the walls of the cellar, and under the picture of Faust and the students drinking were lines to this effect —

Live thou, drink, and remember how Faustus lived for his pleasure, Lame-footed, slow-coming Pain overtook him, Pain without measure.

In a volume of notes from the conversation of Melancthon {Locornm

INTRODUCTION.

C07nmunium collcctanex ; a Johanue Manlio per viultos annos pleraque turn ex lectionibiis D. Philippi Melaucilioiiis, turn ex aliorum vlrorum rclationibtis cxcerpta ct nuper in ordinem ab eodeyn redacta), Johann Mennel represents that Reformer as saying : "I knew a man named Faustus, out of Kiindling" (Kniitlingen), "a little town not far from my own home" (at Bretten, in Baden, Kniitlingen being a frontier town of Wurtemburg). "When he studied at Cracow he learnt magic, as it used to be actively taught there, where public lectures were read on the art. Afterwards he roamed about and talked of secret things. When he sought attention at Venice, he gave out that he would fly. The Devil lifted him to some height, but then let him fall, so that he almost died of the bruise. Not many years ago this Johannes Faustus sat, on his last day, greatly troubled, in a Wurtemberg village inn. The innkeeper asked him why he was so much troubled and unlike himself, for he had formerly been a wild fellow, who more than once was nearly killed over his love affairs. Whereupon lie replied to that village innkeeper : ' Do not be frightened to-night.' At midnight the house shook. As Faustus had not risen next morning, when it was already noon, the innkeeper went into his room, and found him lying near the bed with his face twisted round. It was so that the Devil killed him. When he yet lived he went about with a dog, who was the Devil."

This was published in 1562, In 1563 appeared Wier's wise and generous book, De Prcestigiis Dcevzonuvi ct iiicantationibiis ac veneficiis, in which there are stories of Faustus. Wier follows Mennel's record as to the magi- cian's birthplace ; and in 1585, two years before the pubhcation of the book on Faustus at the Frankfort fair, another book, by Augustin Lercheimer — Bcdcnckcn von Zanbcrcy — suggested by indignation against the cruelties practised on witches, who should be placed, said Lercheimer, under the doctor and the divine, not under the criminal judge, told more stories about Faustus, and gave the right form of the name of his birthplace, Kniitlingen. Roda, which Marlowe translates Rhodes, first appears as Faust's birthplace in the first edition of the famous prose story, published in Frankfort in 1587, at the autumn book fair.

That book was widely read. Before the end of the year John Aylmer, Bishop of London, licensed "A Ballad of the Life and Death of Doctor Faustus, the great Conjuror." In the following year, 1588, there was a new edition of the original German book, with some additions, also a rhymed version in German, and a translation into Low German. From the second edition of the book published at PYankfort, a translation was made into English, and published, without date, in 1588 or 1589, as The History of the Daintiable Life and Deserved Death of Dr. John Faustus. Newly printed, and in convenient places impej'tinent matter amended, according to the true copy printed at Frankfort, and translated into English by P. R. Gent. At the same time young Christopher Marlowe must have been turn- ing the new story-book into a play. ']"he original German book of 1587 was translated into French by Victor Palma Cayct, whose translation was published in 1589, and in 1592 there appeared a Dutch translation of the second German edition. This translation not only gave 1538 as the year of the death of Faustus, but fi.xed also the exact time of his being carried off by the Devil. It was in "the night between the 23rd and 24th of October.

In 1587, when the story of Faustus first appeared at Frankfort, Christopher Marlovvc was a young man in the twenty-fourth year of his age. He had been baptized on the 26th of February, 1564 (new style) in the Church of St. George the Martyr, at Cant,orbury. His father was John Marlowe, a shoemaker. After education at the King's School, in Canterbury, hematri-

INTRODUCTION.

ciliated as a Pensioner of Benct College, Cambridge. Christopher Marlowe matriculated at Cambridge in March, 1581, and probably owed his college education to the kindness of Sir Roger Manwood. Sir Roger had himself risen from the ranks to which John Marlowe belonged ; he was distinguished for munificence, and had his chief mansion near Canterbury. In 1583 Christopher Marlowe took his B.A. degree, and he proceeded to M.A. in 1587, when he had alrendy leapt to fame as a dramatist by the great success of his first play. That play w\as Tainbnrlainc the Great. A letter by Thomas Nash, prefixed to Greene's Mcnaphon, published in 1587, condemns the recent introduction of blank verse upon the stage, audit was Marlowe, in his Tambnrlaiae, who introduced it. In the next year, 1588, Greene, in an address " to the Gentlemen Readers" prefixed to his novel of Pcrimcdes, the Blacksmith, refers directly to the " daring of God out of Heaven" by " that atheist Tamburlan."

IMarlovve and Shakespeare were within two months of the same age. Shakespeare came to London about the year 1586, twenty-five years after the production of Gorbodiic, our earliest English tragedy. During those twenty-five years few plays of high mark had been produced. The writers had been almost invariably young University men. Shakespeare studied his art as an actor, and as an altercr of other men's plays, for about six years be- fore he declared his strength as an original writer. Those six years of Shakespeare's training time include almost the whole career of Marlowe, the greatest of liis predecessors, from the first acting of Tambiirlainc, in 1586 or 1587, until his death by a stab in a tavern brawl on the ist of June, 1593, when he was little more than twenty-nine years old. Marlowe's Tambiirlaiiie — Timourthe Tartar — was the story of a Scythian shepherd chief, who began with revolt from Persia, then rolled a tide of conquest through the Eastern world, and was the scourge of kings. Marlowe represented his swelling pride, that braved at last the Gods themselves, in bombastic phrase, but with the grand energy of a young poet who had also realms to conquer. In a prologue of eight lines Marlowe began with a repudiation of rhyme, and dis- dain of the base jesting of the clown who intruded himself too freely on the action of our early plays.

From jigging veins of rhyming mother wits And such conceits as clownage keeps in pay, I'll lead you

said Marlowe, and there are no clown scenes in any of his plays, excepting Faustus. l^iesh from the display of pride in the strong arm of the flesh defying Heaven, Marlowe was ready to write his second play when the Faust story appeared at Frankfort. Probably the book was brought to England by a company of English players, who are known to have been in the service of Duke Christian of Saxony in October, 1586. But however Marlowe came bv the book, in the very year of its first publication, here was a picture of the pride of intellect defiant of its Giver, and although there were many clownish incidents of magic in the original book that were intended to blend jest with earnest, Marlowe probably confined himself to the poetical develop- ment of the main thought. Clown scenes, not pertinent to the main story, were, I believe, added ""at will by the players for the satisfaction of their audiences. This is fairly to be inferred from the fact that the earliest known edition of Marlowe's Faustus was published in 1604, and entries in the diary of Henslowe the player, dated respectively 1597 and 1602, record payments for " additions to Faustus."

Goethe's Faust was first published in 1806, after a slow development through many years. The ballad of the King of Thule, the first monologue, and the first scene with Wagner, were written in 1774-5 ; from that time

8 INTRODUCTION.

onward Goethe made fragmentary additions from time to time. In 1797 he remodelled the whole work, then added the two Prologues and the Walpur- gis night. In 1801 the work was finished. The feebler Second Part of ^Fanst, completed in July, 1831, at the age of 81 — Goethe died on the 22nd of Alarch, 1832 — was an after thought, continuing to the end association of the Faust legend with thoughts and feelings from his own experience of life. " The marionette fable of Faust," he said, " murmured with many voices in my soul. I too had wandered into every department of knowledge, and liad returned early enough satisfied with the vanity of science. And life, too, I had tried under various aspects, and always came back sorrowing and unsatisfied."

Here it must be enough to say that Johann Wolfgang von Goethe was born at Frankfort -on-the-Main, August 28, 1749. His father was an Imperial Councillor with refined tastes, which he could satisfy, and in which he could train his son. Geothe studied at Leipsic, and afterwards at Strasburg ; cared more for the natural sciences than for law ; took the degree of doctor, and at the age of twenty-five represented the sick mind of Europe in the days before the French Revolution with the ' ' Sorrows of the Young Werter," first published in 1774. In 1779 he entered the service of the Duke of Saxe Weimar, by whom he was employed in high offices, loaded with honours, and impeded in the free use of his mind. But after the first ten years at Weimar, a journey to Italy gave impulse to his genius, and bore fruit in Iphigenia, Eguionf, Tasso, and much of Faust. This greatest of German poets began his career, like Schiller, with reaction against a literature of classical convention and a life encumbered with dead forms. He gave, for Germany, highest expression to the struggle for a real life, uttering itself in a real literature. Taught by the free spirit of Shakespeare, he turned early from the classical drama to represent in Gotz von Bcrlichingen, a hero out of the old national tradition, who like himself, though in another way, defied authority. As flie healtliy artist life developed, the poet was the man. From the lightest grace of song to the large conception of his burgher epic, Hermann und Dorothea, most of all in his Faust, all is direct utterance of his own inner life, with the intensity and the repose of thought that through the man himself, and his own life problems, touched all humanity in a time of Revolution, when minds exulted in the new sense of recovered power. Goethe solved no riddle of hfe, but he expressed himself, and, through him- self, a world of newly wakened thought among men, with the full sincerity that is of the essence of all high artistic power.

Dr. John Anster, whose version is here given, was the earliest translator of Faust into English. He was born in Cork at the close of the last century, educated at Trinity College, Dublin, and called to the Irish Bar in 1824, He graduated as LL.D. in 1826. He had published at one-and-twenty a prize poem, and Poems with Translations from the German, and after con- tributing to Dlack-ioood's Magazine — in which he was a frequent writer — ■ fragments of his translation of Faust, he published the whole in 1835.

In 1850 Dr. Anster was appointed Regius Professor of Civil Law in the University of Dublin. He died in June, 1867. His translation oi Faust gave pleasure to Coleridge, and is liked in Germany.

7^^h, 1883. HENRY MORLEY.

The Tragical History of Doctor F'austus.

[Fro7H the Quarto of 1604.1

DRAMATIS PERSONS.

The Pope.

Cardinal of Lorrain.

The Emperor of Germany.

Duke of Vanholt.

Faustus.

Valdes, •) ^ . , , „

[.friends to Faustus. Cornelius,)

Wagner, servant to Faustus.

Clown.

Robin.

Ralph.

Vintner.

Horse-Courser.

A. Knight.

An Old Man.

Scholars, Friars, and Attendants,

Duchess of Vanholt,

Lucifer.

Belzebub.

Mephistophilis.

Good Angel.

Evil Angel.

The Seven Deadly Sins.

Devils,

Spirits in the shapes of Alexander

THE Great, of his Paramour,

and of Helen. Chorus.

Enter Chorus.

Cho. Not marching now in fields of Thrasymene, Where Mars did mate the Carthaginians j Nor sporting in the dalHance of love, In courts of kings, where state is overturn'd'^

10 FAUSTUS. [act I,

Nor in the pomp of proud audacious deeds,

Intends our muse to vaunt her heavenly verse :

Only this, gentlemen, — we must perform

The form of Faustus' fortunes, good or bad.

To patient judgments we appeal our plaud,

And speak for Faustus in his infancy.

Now is he born, his parents base of stock.

In Germany, within a town call'd Rhodes :

Of riper years, to Wertenberg he went,

Whereas his kinsmen chiefly brought him. up.

So soon he profits in divinity,

The fruitful plot of scholarism grac'd,

That shortly he was grac'd with doctor's name.

Excelling all whose sweet delight disputes

In heavenly matters of theology ;

Till swoln with cunning of a self-conceit,

His waxen wings did mount above his reach,

And, melting, heavens conspir'd his overthrow;

For, falling to a deviHsh exercise,

And glutted now with learning's golden gifts,

He surfeits upon cursed necromancy ; .

Nothing so sweet as magic is to him.

Which he prefers before his chiefest bliss :

And this the man that in his study sits. \Exit.

SCENE I.] FAUSTUS, II

ACT I. Scene I. Faustus discovei'ed in his study. Faust, Settle thy studies, Faustus, and begin To sound the depth of that thou wilt profess : Having commenc'd, be a divine in shew, Yet level at the end of every art, And live and die in Aristotle's works. Sweet Analytics, 'tis thou hast ravish'd me ! Bene disserere est finis logiccs. Is, to dispute well, logic's chiefest end ? Affords this art no greater miracle ? Then read no more ; thou hast attain'd that end : A greater subject fitteth Faustus' wit : Bid Economy farewell, Galen come : Seeing, Ubi desinit philosophus, ibi incipit medicus : Be a physician, Faustus ; heap up gold. And be eterniz'd for some wondrous cure. Suniinum bonum medicincz sanitas. The end of physic is our body's health. Why, Faustus, hast thou not attain'd that end ? Is not thy common talk sound aphorisms ? Are not thy bills hung up as monuments, Whereby whole cities have escap'd the plague, And thousand desperate maladies been eas'd ? Yet art thou still but Faustus, and a man.

13

FAUSTUS. [act I.

Couldst thou make men to live eternally,

Or, being dead, raise them to life again,

Then this profession were to be esteem'd.

Physic, farewell ! Where is Justinian ? \Reads.

Si ima eademqiie res legatur duobus^ alter rem,

Alter valorem rei, etc.

A pretty case of paltry legacies ! [Reads.

ExhcBredltare filium ?ion potest pater, nisi, etc.

Such is the subject of the institute,

And universal body of the law :

This study fits a mercenary drudge,

Who aims at nothing but external trash ;

Too servile and illiberal for me.

When all is done, divinity is best :

Jerome's Bible, li'austus ; view it well. [Reads.

Stipendium peccati mors est .• Ha ! Stipendium,

The reward of sin is death : that's hard. [Reads.

Si peccasse 7iega7nus, fallimur, et nulla est in nobis Veritas ;

If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and there is no truth in us.

Why, then, belike we must sin, and so consequently die :

Ay, we must die an everlasting death.

What doctrine call you this, Che sera, sera,

V/hat will be, shall be ? Divinity, adieu !

These metaphysics of magicians.

And necromantic books are heavenly ;

Lines, circles, scenes, letters, and characters;

SCENE I.] FAUSTUS. 13

Ay, these are those that Faustus most desires.

O, what a world of profit and delight,

Of power, of honour, of omnipotence.

Is promis'd to the studious artizan !

All things that move between the quiet poles

Shall be at my command : emperors and kings

Are but obeyed in their several provinces.

Nor can they raise the wind or rend the clouds ;

But his domin-ion that exceeds in this,

Stretcheth as far as doth the mind of man ;

A sound magician is a mighty god :

Here, Faustus, tire thy brains to gain a deity.

Enter Wagner.

Faust. Wagner, commend me to my dearest friends, The German Valdes and Cornelius ; Request them earnestly to visit me.

Wag. I will, sir. \Exit.

Faust. Their conference will be a greater help to me Than all my labours, plod I ne'er so fast.

Enter Good Angel and Evil Angel.

Good A?ig. O, Faustus, lay that damned book aside, And gaze not on it, lest it tempt thy soul, And heap God's heavy wrath upon thy head ! Read, read the Scriptures : — that is blasphemy.

Evil A?ig. Go forward. Faustus, in that famous art

H FAUSTUS. [act I.

Wherein all Nature's treasure is contain'd :

Be thou on earth as Jove is in the sky,

Lord and commander of these elements. \Exeimt Angels,

Faust. How am I glutted with conceit of this ! Shall I make spirits fetch me what I please, Resolve me of all ambiguities, Perform what desperate enterprise I will ? I'll have them fly to India for gold. Ransack the ocean for orient pearl, And search all corners of the new-found world For pleasant fruits and princely delicates ; I'll have them read me strange philosophy, And tell the secrets of all foreign kings ; I'll have them wall all Germany with brass, And make swift Rhine circle fair Wertenberg \ I'll have them fill the public schools with silk. Wherewith the students shall be bravely clad ; I'll levy soldiers with the coin they bring, And chase the Prince of Parma from our land, And reign sole king of all the provinces ; Yea, stranger engines for the brunt of war. Than was the fiery keel at Antwerp's bridge, ril make my servile spirits to invent.

Enter Valdes and Cornelius.

Come, German Valdes, and Cornelius,

And make me blest with your sage conference.

SCENE I.] FAUSTUS, 15

Valdes, sweet Valdes, and Cornelius,

Know that your words have won me at the last

To practise magic and concealed arts :

Yet not your words only, but mine own fantasy,

That will receive no object; for my head

But ruminates on necromantic skill.

Philosophy is odious and obscure ;

Both law and physic are for petty wits ;

Divinity is basest of the three,

Unpleasant, harsh, contemptible, and vile :

'Tis magic, magic, that hath ravish'd me.

Then, gentle friends, aid me in this attempt ;

And I, that have with concise syllogisms

Gravell'd the pastors of the German church.

And made the flowering pride of Wertenberg

Swarm to my problems, as the infernal spirits

On sweet Musaeus when he came to hell.

Will be as cunning as Agrippa was,

Whose shadow made all Europe honour him.

VaL Faustus, these books, thy wit, and our experience, Shall make all nations to canonize us. As Indian Moors obey their Spanish lords, So shall the spirits of every element Be always serviceable to us three ; Like lions shall they guard us when we please ; Like Almain rutters with their horsemen's staves, Or Lapland giants, trotting by our sides ;

i6 FAUSTUS. [act I.

Sometimes like women, or unwedded maids,

Shadowing more beauty in their airy brows

Than have the white breasts of the Queen of Love :

From Venice shall they drag huge argosies,

And from America the golden fleece

That yearly stuffs old Philip's treasury ;

If learned Faustus will be resolute.

Faust. Valdes, as resolute am I in this As thou to live : therefore object it not.

Cor7i. The miracles that magic will perform Will make thee vow to study nothing else. He that is grounded in astrology, Enrich'd with tongues, well seen in minerals, Hath all the principles magic doth require : Then doubt not, Faustus, but to be renown'd, And more frequented for this mystery Than heretofore the Delphian oracle. The spirits tell me they can dry the sea, And fetch the treasure of all foreign wrecks, Ay, all the wealth that our forefathers hid Within the massy entrails of the earth : Then tell me, Faustus, what shall we three want ?

Faust. Nothing, Cornelius. O, this cheers my soul ! Come, shew me some demonstrations magical. That I may conjure in some lusty grove, And have these joys in full possession.

Val Then haste thee to some solitary grove^

SCENE ii.l FAUSTUS. 17

And bear wise Bacon's and Albertus' works, The Hebrew Psalter, and New Testament; And whatsoever else is requisite We will inform thee ere our conference cease.

Corn. Valdes, first let him know the words of art ; And then, all other ceremonies learn'd, Faustus may try his cunning by himself.

Val. First I'll instruct thee in the rudiments, And then wilt thou be perfecter than I.

Faust. Then come and dine with me, and after meat, We'll canvass every quiddity thereof; For, ere I sleep, I'll try what I can do : This night I'll conjure, though I die therefore. \Exeuni,

Scene II. Enter two Scholars. First SchoL I wonder what's become of Faustus, that was wont to make our schools ring with sic probo. *■ Sec. Schol. That shall we know ; for see, here comes his boy.

Enter Wagner. First SchoL How now, sirrah ! where's thy master ? Wag. God in heaven knows. Sec. Schol. Why, dost not thou know ? Wag. Yes, I know ; but that follows not. First Schol. Go to, sirrah ! leave your jesting, and tell us where he is.

1 8 FAUSTUS, [act I.

Wag. That follows not necessary by force of argument, that you, being licentiates, should stand upon it : therefore acknowledge your error, and be attentive.

Sec. Schol. Why, didst thou not say thou knewest ?

Wag. Have you any v/itness on't?

First ScJiol. Yes, sirrah, I heard you.

Wag. Ask my fellow if I be a thief.

Sec. Schol. Well, you will not tell us ?

Wag. Yes, sir, I will tell you : yet, if you v/ere not dunces, you would never ask me such a question ; for is not he corpus naturaie ? and is not that mobile ? then wherefore should you ask me such a question ? But that I am by nature phlegmatic, slow to wrath, and prone to lechery (to love, I would say), it were not for you to com.e within forty foot of the place of execution, although I do not doubt but to see you both hanged the next sessions. Thus having triumphed over you, I will set my countenance like a precisian, and begin to speak thus : — Truly, my dear brethren, my master is within at dinner, with Valdes and Cornelius, as this wine, if it could speak, would inform your worships : and so, the Lord bless you, preserve you, and keep you, my dear brethren, my dear brethren ! [^Exit.

First Schol. Nay, then, I fear he is fallen into that damned art for which they two are infamous through the world.

Sec. Schol. Were he a stranger, and not allied to me, yet should I grieve for him. But, conie, let us go and inform the Rector, and see if he by his grave counsel can reclaim him.

SCENE iii.J FAUSTUS. IQ

First Scliol. O, but I fear me nothing can reclaim him ! Sec. Schol. Yet let us try what we can do. \Exetmt.

Scene III. Flitter Faustus to conjure.

Faust. Now that the gloomy shadow of the earth, Longing to view Orion's drizzling look, Leaps from th' antarctic world unto the sky, And dims the welkin with her pitchy breath, Faustus, begin thine incantations, And try if devils will obey thy hest. Seeing thou hast pray'd and sacrific'd to them. Within this circle is Jehovah's name. Forward and backward anagrammatiz'd, Th' abbreviated names of holy saints, Figures of every adjunct to the heavens, And characters of signs and erring stars. By which the spirits are enforc'd to rise : Then fear not, Faustus, but be resolute, And try the uttermost magic can perform. —

Sint inihi dei Acherontis propitii I Valeat numen triplex yehovce! Fgnei, aerii, aqiiatani spiritits^ salvete! Orient is priiiceps Belzehub, iiifhmi arde?itis monarcha, et Demogorgon, propitiamus vos, ut appareat et surgat Mcphistophilis^ quod tumeraris; per Jehovam^ Geheiinani., et consccratam aqicani qtiam nunc spargo, sigmunque cruets quod 7tunc facio, et per vota nostra^ ipse ntmc surgat nobis dicatus Mephistophilis !

20 FAUSTUS. [act I.

Enter Mephistophilis.

I charge thee to return, and change thy shape ; Thou art too ugly to attend on me : Go, and return an old Franciscan friar ; That holy shape becomes a devil best.

{Exit Mephistophilis. I see there's virtue in my heavenly words : Who would not be proficient in this art ? How pliant is this Mephistophilis, Full of obedience and humility ! Such is the force of magic and my spells : Now, Faustus, thou art conjuror laureat, That canst command great Mephistophilis : Qiim regis Mephistophilis fratris imagine.

Enter Mephistophilis {like a Franciscan friar).

Meph. Now, Faustus, what wouldst thou have me do ?

Fanst. I charge thee wait upon me whilst I live, To do whatever Faustus shall command, Be it to make the moon drop from her sphere, Or the ocean to overwhelm the world.

Meph. I am a servant to great Lucifer, And may not follow thee without his leave : No more than he commands must we perform.

Faust. Did not he charge thee to appear to me?

jMeph. No^ I came hither of mine own accord.

SCENE III.] FA USTUS. 2 1

Faust, Did not my conjuring speeches raise thee ? speak. Meph. That was the cause, but yet per accidens ; For, when we hear one rack the name of God, Abjure the Scriptures and his Saviour Christ, We fly, in hope to get his glorious soul ; Nor will we come, unless he use such means Whereby he is in danger to be damn'd. Therefore the shortest cut for conjuring Is stoutly to abjure the Trinity, And pray devoutly to the prince of Hell.

Faust. So Faustus hath Already done ; and holds this principle, There is no chief but only Belzebub ; To whom Faustus doth dedicate himself. This word "damnation" terrifies not him, For he confounds hell in Elysium : His ghost be with the old philosophers ! But, leaving these vain trifles of men's souls, Tell me what is that Lucifer, thy Lord ?

Meph. Arch-regent and commander of all spirits.

Faust. Was not that Lucifer an angel once ?

Meph. Yes, Faustus, and most dearly lov'd of God.

Faiist. How comes it, then, that he is prince of devils?

Meph. O, by aspiring pride and insolence ; For which God threw him from the face of heaven.

Faust. And what are you that live with Lucifer ?

Meph. Unhappy spirits that fell with Lucifer,

22 FAUSTUS. [act I.

Gonspir'd against our God with Lucifer, And are for ever damn'd with Lucifer.

Faust. Where are you damn'd ? MepJi. In hell

Faust. How comes it, then, that thou art out of hell?

Meph. Why this is hell, nor am I out of it : Think'st thou that I, who saw the face of God, And tasted the eternal joys of heaven, Am not tormented with ten thousand hells, In being depriv'd of everlasting bliss ? O Faustus, leave these frivolous demands. Which strike a terror to my fainting soul !

Faust. What, is great Mephistophilis so passionate For being deprived of the joys of heaven ? Learn thou of Faustus manly fortitude, And scorn those joys thou never shalt possess. Go bear these tidings to great Lucifer : Seeing Faustus hath incurr'd eternal death By desperate thoughts against Jove's deity, Say, he surrenders up to him his soul, So he will spare him four and twenty years, Letting him live in all voluptuousness ; Having thee ever to attend on me, To give me whatsoever I shall ask, To tell me whatsoever I demand, To slay mine enemies, and aid my friends, And always be obedient to my will.

SCENE IV.] FAUSrUS, 23

Go and return to mighty Lucifer, And meet me in my study at midnight, And then resolve me of thy master's mind.

Meph. I will, Faustus. \_Exit.

Faust, Had I as many souls as there be stars, I'd give them all for Mephistophilis. By him I'll be great emperor of the world, And make a bridge through the moving air,. To pass the ocean with a band of men ; I'll join the hills that bnid the Afric shore. And make that country continent to Spain, And both contributory to my crown : The Emperor shall not live but by my leave, Nor any potentate of Germany. Now that I have obtain'd what I desire, I'll live in speculation of this art, Till Mephistophilis return again. \Exit.

Scene IV. Enter Wagner and Clown.

Wag. Sirrah, boy, come hither.

Cloivn. How, boy ! swowns, boy ! I hope you have seen many boys with such pickadevaunts as I have : boy, quotha !

Wag. Tell me, sirrah, hast thou any comings in ?

Cloivn. Ay, and goings out too ; you may see else.

Wag, Alas, poor slave ! see how poverty jesteth in his

24 FAUSTUS. [act I.

nakedness I the villain is bare and out of service, and so hungry, that I know he would give his soul to the devil for a shoulder of mutton, though it were blood-raw.

Clown. How ! my soul to the devil for a shoulder of mutton, though 'twere blood-raw ! not so, good friend ; by'r lady, I had need have it well roasted, and good sauce to it, if I i^ay so dear.

IVag. Well, wilt thou serve me, and I'll make thee go like Qui viihi discipulus ?

Clown. How, in verse ?

Wag. No, sirrah ; in beaten silk and staves-acre. Take these guilders. [^Gives money.

Clown. Gridirons ! what be they ?

Wag. Why, French crowns.

Cloivn. Mass, but for the name of French crowns, a man were as good have as many English counters. And what should I do with these ?

Wag. Why, now, sirrah, thou art at an hour's warning, whensoever or wheresoever the devil shall fetch thee.

Clo7vn. No, no ; here, take your gridirons again.

Wag. Truly, I'll none of them.

Clown. Truly, but you shall.

Wag. Bear witness, Igave them him.

Clown. Bear witness, I give them you again.

Wag. Well, I will cause two devils presently to fetch thee away — Baliol and Belcher ! • Clown. Let your Baliol and your Belcher come here, and

SCEN E IV.] FA C^S TUS. 2 5

I'll knock them, they were never so knocked since they were devils : say I should kill one of them, what would folks say ? " Do ye see yonder tall fellow in the round slop ? he has killed the devil," So I should be called Kill-devil all the parish over.

Enter two Devils ; and the Clown i'u?is up and dozen crying.

Wag. Baliol and Belcher,— spirits^ away !

[Exeunt Devils ,

Cloivn. What^ are they gone? a vengeance on them ! they have vile long nails. There was a he-devil and a she devil : I'll tell you how you shall know them ; all he-devils has horns, and all she-devils has cloven feet.

Wag. Well, sirrah, follow me.

Clown. But, do you hear ? if I should serve you, would you teach me to raise up Banios and Belcheos ?

Wag. I will teach thee to turn thyself to anything, to a dog, or a cat, or a mouse, or a rat, or anything.

Clown. How ! a Christian fellow to a dog, or a cat, a mouse, or a rat ! No. no, sir ; if you turn me into anything, let it be in the likeness of a little pretty frisking flea, that I maybe here and there and everywhere : I'll tickle the pretty wenches ! Til be amongst them, i' faith !

Wag. Well, sirrah, come.

Clown. But, do you hear, Wagner ?

Wag. How i — Baliol and Belcher \

2,6 FAUSTUS, [act II.

Cloivn. O Lord ! I pray, sir, let Baliol and Belcher go sleep.

IVag. Villain, call me Master Wagner, and let thy left eye be diametarily fixed upon my right heel, with quasi Tdesiigiis nostris insisiere. \Exif.

Clown. God forgive me, he speaks Dutch fustian. V/ell, I'll follow him ; I'll serve him, that's flat. \Exit,

ACT IL

Scene I.

Faustus discovered in his Study.

iFcAist. Nov/, Faustus, must thou needs be damn'd: And canst thou not be sav'd ? What boots it, then, to think of God or heaven ? Away with such vain fancies, and despair; Despair in God, and trust in Belzebub : Now go not backward ; no, Faustus, be resolute : Why waver'st thou ? O, something soundeth in mine ears, '' Abjure this magic, turn to God again !" Ay, and Faustus will turn to God again. To God ? He loves thee not ; The god thou serv'st is thine own appetite, Wherein is fix'd the love of Belzebub : To him I'll build an altar and a church, And offer lukewarm blood of new-born babes.

SCENE I.] FAUSTUS. 27

Enter Good Angel and Evil Angel.

Good Afig. Sweet Faustus, leave that execrable art.

Fcmst. Contrition, prayer, repentance — what of them?

Good Ang. O, they are means to bring thee unto heaven !

Evil Ang. Rather illusions, fruits of lunacy, That make men foolish that do trust them most.

Good Ang. Sweet Faustus, think of heaven and heavenly things.

Evil Ang. No^ Faustus ; think of honour and of v/ealth.

\Exetint Angels.

Faust. Of wealth! Why, the signiory of Embden shall be mine. When Mephistophilis shall stand by me, What God can hurt thee, Faustus ? Thou art safe : Cast no more doubts. — Come, Mephistophilis, And bring glad tidings from great Lucifer ; — Is't not midnight ? — Come, Mephistophilis, Veni^ vent, Mephistophile.

Enter Mephistophilis,

Now tell me what sayeth Lucifer, thy lord ?

Meph. That I shall wait on Faustus whilst he lives. So he will buy my service with his soul.

Faust. Already Faustus hath hazarded that or thee.

Meph. But, Faustus^ thou must bequeath it solemnly,

28 FAUSTUS. [act 11.

And write a deed of gift with thine own blood j For that security craves great Lucifer. If thou deny it, I will back to hell.

Fa2(st. Stay, Mephistophilis, and tell me, what good Will my soul do thy lord ?

Meph. Enlarge his kingdom.

Faust. Is that the reason why he tempts us thus ? "

Meph. Solanien miseris socios hahdsse doloris.

Faust. Why, have you any pain that torture others?

Meph. As great as have the human souls of men. But, tell me, Faustus, shall I have thy soul ? And I will be thy slave, and wait on thee, And give thee more than thou hast wit to ask.

Faust. Ay, Mephistophilis, I give it thee.

Meph. Then, Faustus, stab thine arm courageously, And bind thy soul, that at some certain day Great Lucifer may claim it as his own ; And then be thou as great as Lucifer.

Faust. [^Stabbing his arm.] Lo, Mephistophilis, for love of thee, I cut mine arm, and with my proper blood Assure my soul to be great Lucifer's, Chief lord and regent of perpetual night ! View here the blood that trickles from mine arm, And let it be propitious for my wish.

Meph. But, Faustus, thou must Write it in manner of a deed of gift.

SCENE i.l FAUSTUS. 29

Faust. Ay, so I will. [ IVrtles.] But, Mephistophilis, My blood congeals, and I can write no more.

Meph. I'll fetch thee fire to dissolve it straight. [Exit.

Faust. What might the staying of my blood portend ^ Is it unwilling I should write this bill ? Why streams it not, that I may write afresh ? -^

Fatistus gives to thee his soul : ah, there it stay'd ! Why should'st thou not ? is not thy soul thine own ? Then write again, Faust us gives to tJiee his soul.

Re-enier Mephistophilis with a cJiafer of coals,

Meph. Here's fire ; come, Faustus, set it on.

Faust. So, now the blood begins to clear again ; Now will I make an end immediately. [ Writes.

Meph. O, what will not I do to obtain his soul ? [Aside.

Faust. Co?isummatuni est, this bill is ended, i^nd Faustus hath bequeathed his soul to Lucifer. But what is this inscription on mine arm ? Homofuge : whither should I flv ? If unto God, he'll throw me down to hell. My senses are deceiv'd, here's nothing writ 3 — I see it plain ; here in this place is writ, Homo fuge : yet shall not Faustus fly.

Meph. I'll fetch him som.ewhat to delight his mind.

[Aside, a?id then exit.

so FAUSTUS, [act II.

Re-enter Mephistophilis ivith Devils, 7v ho give crowns and rich apparel to Faustus, dance^ and then depart.

Faust. Speak, Mephistophilis, what means this show?

Mepk, Nothing, Faustus, but to deHght thy mind withal, And to shew thee what magic can perform.

Faust. But may I raise up spirits when I please ?

Meph. Ay, Faustus, and do greater things than these.

Faust. Then there's enough for a thousand souls. Here, Mephistophilis, receive this scroll, A deed of gift of body and of soul : But yet conditionally that thou perform All articles prescrib'd between us both !

Meph. Faustus, I swear by hell and Lucifer To eftect all promises between us made.

Faust. Then hear me read them. \Reads^ On these co7iditions following. First, that Faustus may be a spirit in form and substance. Secofidly, that Mephis- tophilis shall be his serva?it, and at his command. Thirdly^ that Mephistophilis shall do for him, aiid bring him whatsoever he desires. Fourthly, that he shall be in his chamber or house i?ivisible. Lastly, that he shall appear to the said John Faustus, at all times, in what form or shape soever he please. I, yohn Faustus of Wertenberg, Doctor, by these presents, do give both body and soul to Lucifer, prince of the East, and his minister Mephistophilis; and furthermore grant imto them, that, twenty four yeais being expired, the

SCENE I.] FAUSTUS. 31

articles above written inviolate, full power to fetch or carry the said yoh7i Faiisttis, body and soid^fcsh, blood, or goods, into their habitation wheresoever. By me, J^ohn Faustus.

Meph. Speak, Faustus, do you deliver this as your deed?

Faust. Ay, take it, and the devil give thee good on't.

Meph. Now, Faustus, ask what thou wilt.

Faust. First will I question with thee about hell. Tell me, v/here is the place that men call hell ?

Meph. Under the heavens.

Faust. Ay, but whereabout ?

Meph. Within the bowels of these elements, Where we are tortur'd and remain for ever : Hell hath no limits, nor is circumscrib'd In one self place ; for v/here we are is hell, And where hell is, must v/e ever be : And, to conclude, when all the vv'orld dissolves, And every creature shall be purified. All places shall be hell that are not heaven.

Faust. Come, I think, hell's a fable.

Meph. Ay, think so still, till experience change thy mind.

Faust. Why, think'st thou, then, that Faustus shall be damned ?

Meph. Ay, of necessity, for here's the scroll Wherein thou hast given thy soul to Lucifer.

Faust. Ay, and body too : but what of that ? Think'st thou that Faustus is so fond to imagine

32 FAUSTUS. [act II.

That, after this life, there is any pain ?

Tush, these are trifles and mere old wives' tales.

Mep/i. But, Faustus, I am an instance to prove the contrary, Tor I am damned, and am now in hell.

Faust. How ! Now in hell ! Nay, an' this be hell, I'll willingly be damn'd here ; What ! v/alking, disputing ! etc. But, leaving off this, let me have a wife, The fairest maid in Germany ; For I am wanton and lascivious, And cannot live without a wife.

Meph. How ! a v*'ife !

I priihec, Faustus, talk not of a wife.

Faust. Nay, sweet Mephistophilis, fetch me one ; For I will have one.

Aleph. Well, thou wilt have one ? Sit there till I come : ril fetch thee a wife in the devil's name. \^Exit,

Re-enter Mephistophilis with a Devil drest like a womaji^ witJi fireivorks.

Meph. Tell me, Faustus, how dost thou like thy wife ?

Faust. A plague on her ....

Meph. Tut, Faustus, Marriage is but a ceremonial toy ; If thou lovest me, think no more of it.

SCENE 1.] FAUSTUS, , ss

She whom thine eye shall like, thy heart shall have,

Be she as cha steas was Penelope,

As wise as Saba, or as beautiful

As was bright Lucifer before his fall.

Hold, take this book, peruse it thorouglily : [Gives hook.

The iterating of these lines brings gold ;

The framing of this circle on the ground

Brings whirlwinds, tempests, thunder, and lightning.

Pronounce this thrice devoutly to thyself,

And men in armour shall appear to thee,

Ready to execute what thou desir'st.

Faust. Thanks, Mephistophilis : yet fain would I have a book wherein I might behold all spells and incantations, that I might raise up spirits when I please.

Meph. Here they are in this book. [7>;;7w to them.

Paicst. Now would I have a book where I might see all characters and planets of the heavens, that I might know their motions and dispositions.

Mep/i. Here they are too. [Turns ^o them.

Faust. Nay, let me have one book more, — and then I have done, — wherein I might see all plants, herbs, and trees, that grow upon the earth.

Meph. Here they be. ^

Faust. O, thou art deceived.

Meph, Tut, I warrant thee, [Turns to them.

34 FAUSTUS. [act ii.

Scene II. E7iter Faustus and Mephistophilis.

Faust. When I behold the heavens, then I repent, And curse thee, wicked Mephistophilis, Because thou hast depriv'd me of those joys.

Meph. Why, Faustus^ Thinkest thou heaven is such a glorious thing ? I tell thee, 'tis not half so fair as thou, Or any man that breathes on earth.

Faust. Hova^ prov'st thou that ?

Meph. 'Twas made for man, therefore is man more ex- cellent.

Faust. If it were made for man, 'twas made for me ; 1 will renounce this magic, and repent.

Enttr Good Angel and Evil Angel.

Good Ang. Faustus, repent ; yet God will pity thee* Evil Ang. Thou art a spirit ; God cannot pity thee* Faust. Who buzzeth iii mine ears I am a spirit ?

Be I a devil, yet God may pity me ;

Ay, God will pity me, if I repent.

Evil Ang. Ay, but Faustus never shall repent.

\Exeunt Angels, Faust. My heart's so hardened I cannot repent ;

Scarce can I name salvation, faith, or heaven,

But fearful echoes thunder in mine ears

SCENE II.] FAUSTUS. ' 35

" Faustus, thou art damn'd ! " then swords, and knives,

Poison, guns, halters, and envenom'd steel

Are laid before me to despatch myself;

And long ere this I should have slain rqyself,

Had not sweet pleasure conquered deep despair.

Have not I made blind Homer sing to me

Of Alexander's love, and CEnon's death ?

And hath not he, that built the walls of Thebes,

With ravishing sound of his melodious harp,

Made music with my MephistophiUs ?

Why should I die, then, or basely despair?

I am resolv'd ; Faustus shall ne'er repent. —

Come, Mephistophilis, let us dispute again.

And argue of divine .astrology.

Tell me, are there many heavens above the moon ?

Are all celestial bodies but one globe,

As is the substance of this centric earth ?

Meph. As are the elements, such are the spheres, Mutually folded in each other's orb, And, Faustus,

All jointly move upon one axletree, Whose terminine is termed the world's wide pole : Nor are the names of Saturn, Mars, or Jupiter Feign'd, but are erring stars.

Faust. But, tell me, have they all one motion, both situ et fefnpore ?

Meph. All jointly move from east to west in twenty-four

B2

6 FA USTUS. [act [i.

hours upon the poles of the world ; but differ in their motion upon the poles of the zodiac.

Faust. Tush, these slender trifles Wagner can decide : Hath Mephistophilis no greater skill ? Who knows not the double motion of the planets ? The first is finish'd in a natural day \

The second thus ; as Saturn in thirty years, Jupiter in twelve; Mars in four ; the Sun, Venus, and Mercury in a year ; the Moon in twenty-eight days. Tush, these are freshmen's suppositions. But, tell me, hath every sphere a dominion or inielligeniia ?

MepJu Ay.

Faust. How many heavens or spheres are there ?

Meph. Nine ; the seven planets, the firmament, and the empyreal heaven.

Faust. Well, resolve me in this question ; why have we not conjunctions, oppositions, aspects, eclipses, all at one time, but in some years we have more, in some less ?

Meph. Per incEqiialem uwtipn respeciit iotius.

Faust. Well, I am answered. Tell me who made the world ?

Meph. I will not.

Faust. Sweet Mephistophilis, tell me.

Meph. Move me not, for I will not tell thee.

Faust. Villain, have not I bound thee to tell me anything ?

Meph. Ay, that is not against our kingdom ; but this is. Thmk thou on hell, Faustus, for thou art damned.

SCENE il] FAUSTUS. 37

Faust. Think, Faustus, upon God that made the v/orld.

Meph. Remember this. [ZT.wV.

Faust. Ay ! go, accursed spirit, to ugly hell ! 'Tis thou hast damn'd distressed Faustus' soul ! Is't not too late ?

Re-entei' Good Angel and Evil Angel. Evil Aug. Too late.

Good Aug. Never too late, if Faustus can repent. Evil Aug. If thou repent, devils shall tear thee in pieces. Good' Aug. Repent, and they shall never raze thy skin,

\Exeiint Angels. Faust. Ah, Christ, my Saviour, Seek to save distressed Faustus' soul !

Enter Lucifer, Belzebub, ^;z// Mephistophilis.

Luc. Christ cannot save thy soul, for he is just : There's none but I have interest in the same.

Faust. O, who art thou that look'st so terrible .?

Luc. I am Lucifer ; And this is my companion-prince in Hell.

Faust. O, Faustus, they are come to fetch away thy soul !

Luc. We come to tell thee thou dost injure us ; Thou talk'st of Christ, contrary to thy promise : Thou shouldst not think of God : think of the devil, And of his dam too.

Faust. Nor will I henceforth : pardon me in this.

38 FAUSTUS. [act ii.

And Faiistus vows never to look to heaven, Never to name God, or to pray to him, To burn his Scriptures, slay his ministers, And make my spirits pull his churches down.

Luc. Do so, and we will highly gratify thee. Faustus, we are come from hell, to shew thee some pastime : sit down, . and thou shalt see all the Seven Deadly Sins appear in their proper shapes.

Faust, That sight will be as pleasing unto me, As Paradise was to Adam, the first day Of his creation.

Ltic. Talk not of Paradise nor creation ; but mark this show : talk of the devil and nothing else. — Come away !

Enter the Seven Deadly Sins.

Now, Faustus, examine them of their several names and dispositions.

Faust. What art thou, the first ?

Pride. I am Pride : I disdain to have any parents. Some- times, like a perriwig, I sit upon a wench's brow; or, like a fan of feathers, I kiss her lips ; indeed, I do — what do I not ? But, fie, what a scent is here ? I'll not speak another word except the ground were perfumed, and covered with cloth of arras.

Faust. What art thou, the second ?

Covet. I am Covetousness, begotten of an old churl, in an old leathern bag : and, might I have my wish, I would desire

SCENE II.] FAUSTUS, 39

that this house and all the people in it were turned to gold, that I might lock you up in my good chest. O, my sweet gold!

Faust. What art thou, the third ?

Wrath. I am Wrath j I had neither father nor mother : I leapt out of a lion's mouth when I was scarce half-an-hour old ; and ever since I have run up and down the world with this case of rapiers, wounding myself when I had nobody to fight withal. I was born in hell ; and look to it, for some of you shall be my father.

Faust. What art thou, the fourth?

Envy. I am Envy, begotten of a chimney-sweeper and an oyster-wife. I cannot read, and therefore wish all books were burnt. I am lean with seeing others eat. O, that there would come a famine through all the world, that all might die, and I live alone ! Then thou shouldst see how fat I would be. But must thou sit, and I stand ? come down, with a vengeance I

Faust. Away, envious rascal!— What art thou, the fifth?

Glut. Who, I5 sir? I am Gluttony. My parents are all dead, and the devil a penny they have left me ; but a bare pension, and that is thirty meals a day and ten bevers, — a small trifle to suffice nature. O, I come of a royal parent- age ! my grandfather was a Gammon of Bacon, my grand- mother a Hogshead of Claret-wine; my godfathers were these, Peter Pickle-herring and Martin Martlemas-beef ; O, but my godmother, she was a jolly gentlewoman, and well-

40 FAUSTUS. [act II.

beloved in every good town and city ; her name was Mistress Margery March-beer. Now, Faustus, thou hast heard all my progeny; wilt thou bid me to supper?

Faust. No, ril see thee hanged ; thou wilt eat up all my victuals.

Glut. Then the devil choke thee !

Faust. Choke thyself, glutton ! — What art thou^ the sixth?

Sloth. I am Sloth. I was begotten on a sunny bank, where I have lain ever since ; and you have done me great injury to bring me from thence : let me be carried thither again by Gluttony and Lechery. I'll not speak another vrord for a king's ransom.

- Faust. V/hat are you. Mistress Minx, the seventh and last?

Lechery. Who, I, sir? The first letter of my name begins with L.

Luc. Away, to hell, to hell ! \_Exe2mt the Sins*

Luc. Now, Faustus, how dost thou like this?

Faust. O, this feeds my soul !

Luc. Tut, Faustus, in hell is all manner of delight.

Faust. O, might I see hell, and return again. How happy were I then !

LiLc. Thou shalt; I will send for thee at midnight. In meantime take this book ; peruse it thoroughly, And thou shalt turn thyself into what shape thou wilt

Faust. Great thanks, mighty Lucifer ! This will I keep as chary as my life.

SCENE 1.] FAUSTUS. 41

Luc. Farewell, Faustus, and think on the devil. Faust. Farewell, great Lucifer.

\Exeunt Lucifer and Belzebup,. Come, Mephistophilis. \Exeunt.

ACT IIL

Efifcr Chorus.

C/ior. Learned Faustus, To know the secrets of astronomy, Graven in the book of Jove's high firmament, Did mount himself to scale Olympus' top. Being seated in a chariot burning bright, Drawn by the strength of yoked dragons' necks. He now is gone to prove cosmography, And, as I guess, will first arrive at Rome, To see the Pope and manner of his court, And take some part of Holy Peter's feast, That to this day is highly solemniz'd. [Exit.

Scene L Enter Faustus a?id Mephistophilis. i^aust. Having now, my good Mephistophilis, Pass'd with delight the stately town of Trier, Environ'd round with airy mountain-tops. With walls of flint, and deep-entrenched lakes, Not to be won by any conquering Prince ; From Paris next, coasting the realm of France,

42 ^ FAUSTUS. . [act III.

We saw the river Maine fall into Rhine,

Whose banks are set with groves of fruitful vines ;

Then up to Naples, rich Campania,

Whose buildings fair and gorgeous to the eye,

The streets straight forth, and pav'd with finest brick,

Quarter the town in four equivalents :

There saw we learned Maro's golden tomb,

The way he cut, an English mile in length,

Through a rock of stone, in one night's space.

From thence to Venice, Padua, and the rest.

In one of which a sumptuous temple stands,

That threats the stars with her aspiring top.

Thus hitherto hath Faustus spent his time :

But tell me now, what resting-place is this ?

Hast thou, as erst I did command,

Conducted me within the walls of Rome ?

Meph. Faustus, I have; and because we will not be unprovided, I have taken up his Holiness' privy-chamber for our use.

Faust. I hope his Holiness will bid us welcom.e. Meph. Tut, 'tis no matter, man ; we'll be bold with his good cheer. And now, my Faustus, that thou mayst perceive What Rome containeth to delight thee with, Know that this city stands upon seven hills, That underprop the groundwork of the same : Just through the midst runs flowing Tiber's stream,

SCENE I.] FAUSTUS. 43

With winding banks that cut it in two parts ; Over the which four stately bridges lean, That make safe passage to each part of Rome. Upon the bridge, call'd Ponte Angelo, Erected is a castle passing strong, Within whose walls such store ot ordnance are, And double cannons fram'd of carved brass, As match the days within one complete year j Besides the gates, and high pyramides, Which Julius Caesar brought from Africa.

Faust, Now, by the kingdoms of infernal rule, Of Styx, of Acheron, and the fiery lake Of ever-burning Phlegethon, I swear That I do long to see the monuments And situation of bright-splendent Rome ; Come, therefore, let's away.

Meph. Nay, Faustus, stay : I know you'd fain see the Pope, And take some part of holy Peter's feast, Where thou shalt see a troop of bald-pate friars, Whose sumimun honwn is in belly-cheer.

Faust. Well, I'm content to compass them some sport, And by their folly make us merriment ; Then charm me, that I may be invisible To do what I please, Unseen of any whilst I stay in Rome.

[Mephistophilis charms him.

44 FAUST US. [act iii.

Meph. So, Fauslus ; now Uo what thou wilt, thou shalt not be discern'd.

Sound a Sotuiet. Enter the Pope and the Cardinal of LoRRAiN to the l?anquet^ with Friars attending.

Pope. My Lord of Lorrain, will't please you draw near ?

Faust. Fall to, and tlie devil choke you, an' you spare.

Pope. How now ! who's that which spake ? Friars, look about.

First Friar. Here's nobody, if it like your Holiness.

Pope. My lord, here is a dainty dish was sent me from the Bishop of Milan.

Faust. I thank you, sir. [Snatches the dish.

Pope. How now ! who's that which snatched the meat from me? will no man look? — My lord, this dish was sent me from the Cardinal of Florence.

Faust. You say true ; I'll hat. \Snatches the dish.

Pope. What, again ! — My lord, FU drink to your Grace.

Faust. I'll pledge your Grace. \Snatches the cup.

C. of Lor. My lord, it may be some ghost, newly crept out of Purgatory, come to beg a pardon of your Holiness.

Fope. It may be so. — Friars, prepare a dirge to lay the fury of this ghost. — Once again, my lord, fall to.

\_The Pope crosses himself.

Faust. What, are you crossing of yourself? Well, use that trick no more, I would advise you.

\2he Pope crosses himself again.

SCENE I.] FAUSTUS. 45

Well, there's the second time. Aware the third ; I give you fair warning.

[The Pope crosses himself agaifi, and Faustus hits him a box of the ear ; and they all run away. Come on, Mephistophilis ; what shall we do ?

Meph. Nay, I know not : we shall be cursed with bell, book, and candle. [bell, —

Faust. How! bell, book, and candle, — candle, book, and Forward and backward, to curse Faustus to hell ! Anon you shall hear a hog grunt, a calf bleat, and an ass bray, Because it is Saint Peter's holiday.

Re-enter all the Friars to sing the Dirge.

First Friar. Come, brethren, let's about our business with good devotion. \_They sing.

Cursed be he that stole away his Holiness' meat from the table !'

maledicat Dominus ! Cursed be he that struck his Holiness a blow on the face !

maledicat Dominus !

Cursed be he that took Friar Sandelo a blow on the pate I

maledicat Dominus ! [Dominus 1

Cursed be he that disturbeth our holy dirge I maledicat

Cursed be he that took aivay his Holiness' ivine f maledicat

Dominus !

Et omnes Sancti 1 Amen ! [Mephistophilis a^id Falstus beat the Friars, and fing fire-works among them ; and so exeunt.

46 FAUSTUS. [act IV.

ACT IV.

Enter Chorus.

Chor. When Faustus had with pleasure ta'en^ the view Of rarest things, and royal courts of kings, He stay'd his course, and so returned home ; Where such as bear his absence but with grief, I mean his friends and near'st companions, Did gratulate his safety with kind words, And in their conference of what befell, Touching his journey through the world and air, They put forth questions of astrology. Which Faustus answer'd with such learned skill . As they admir'd and wonder'd at his wit. Now is his fame spread forth in every land; Amongst the rest the Emperor is one, Carolus the Fifth, at whose palace now Faustus is feasted 'mongst his noblemen. What there he did, in trial of his art, I leave untold ; your eyes shall see['t] perform'd.

[Exit Scene I.

E?tier Robin, the Ostler, with a hook in his hand.

Rohin. O, this is admirable ! here I ha' stolen one of

SCENE I.] FAVSTUS. 47

Doctor Faustus' conjuring books, and, iTaitli, I mean to search some circles for my own use.

Enter Ralph, calling Robin.

Ralph. Robin, prithee, come away ; there's a gentleman tarries to have his horse, and he would have his things rubbed and made clean : he keeps such a chafing with my mistress about it ; and she has sent me to look thee out ; prithee, come away.

Robin. Keep out, keep out, or else you are blown up, you are dismembered, Ralph : keep out, for I am about a roaring piece of work.

Ralph. Come, what doest thou with that same book? thou canst not read ?

Robin. Yes, my master and mistress shall find that I can read.

Ralph. Why, Robin, what book is that ?

Robin. What book ! why, the most intolerable book for conjuring that e'er was invented by any brimstone devil.

Ralph. Canst thou conjure with it ?

Robin. I can do all these things easily with it ; first, I can make thee drunk with ippocras at any tabern in Europe for nothing ; that's one of my conjuring works.

Ralph. Our Master Parson says that's nothing.

Robin. True, Ralph : and more, Ralph, if thou hast any mind to Nan Spit, our kitchen-maid^ thou shalt have her.

48 FAUSTUS. [act iv.

Ralph. O, brave, Robin ! shall I have Nan Spit ? On that condition I'll feed thy devil with horse-bread as long as he lives, of free cost.

Kobin. No more, sweet Ralph : let's go and make clean our boots, which lie foul upon our hands, and then to our conjuring in the devil's name. [ Examt-

Scene II.

^;//<?/" Robin and Ralph with a silver goblet.

Robin. Come, Ralph ! did not I tell thee, we were for ever made by this Doctor Faustus' book ? ecce^ sigmunl here's a simple purchase for horse-keepers; our horses shall eat no hay as long as this lasts.

Ralph. But, Robin, here comes the Vintner.

Robin. Hush ! I'll gull him supernaturally.

Enter Vintner.

Drawer, I hope all is paid ; God be with you ! — Come, Ralph.

Vint. Soft, sir ; a word with you. I must yet have a goblet paid from you, ere you go.

Robin. I a goblet, Ralph, I a goblet ! — I scorn you ; and you are but a, &c. I a goblet ! search me.

Vint. I mean so, sir, with your favour.

\^SearcJies Robin.

SCENE 1 1. 1 FAUsrus.

49

Rohi7i. How say you now ?

Vini. I must say somewhat to your fellow. — You, sir!

Ralph. Me, sir ! me, sir ! search your fill. [Vintner searches Jiim.\ Now, sir, you may be ashamed to burden honest men with a ma4;ter of truth.

Vint. Well, tone of you hath this goblet about you.

Rohiii. You lie, drawer, 'tis afore me [Aside]. — Sirrah you, I'll teach you to impeach honest men ; — stand by ; — I'll scour you for a goblet ; — stand aside you had best, I charge you in the name of Eelzebub. — Look to the goblet, Ralph [Aside to Ralph].

Vint. What mean you, sirrah ?

Robin. I'll tell you v/hat I mean. [Reads from a book.] Saridobulorum FeripJirasticon — nay, I'll tickle you. Vintner. — Look to the goblet, Ralph [Aside to Ralph]. — [Reads] Polypragmos Belseborains framanto pacostiphos tostu, MepJiis- tophilis, &c.

Enter Mephistophilis, sets squibs at their backs, and then exit. TJiey run about.

Vint. O, nomine Domini ! what meanest thou, Robin ? thou hast no goblet,

Ralph. Peccatum peccatorum I — Here's thy goblet, good Vintner. [Gives the goblet to Vintner, laho exit.

Robin. Misericordia pro 7iobis I what shall I do ? Good devil, forgive me now, and I'll never rob thy library more.

50 FAUSTUS, [act IV

He-enter Mephistophilis.

Meph. Monarch of hell, under whose black survey Great potentates do kneel with awful fear, Upon whose altars thousand souls do lie, How am I vexed with these villains' charms ? From Constantinople am I hither come, Only for pleasure of these damned slaves.

Rohi7i. How, from Constantinople ! you have had a great journey : will you take sixpence in your purse to pay for your supper, and be gone ?

Meph. Well, villains, for your presumption, I transform thee into an ape, and thee into a dog ; and so begone.

\Exit,

Robin. How, into an ape ! that's brave : I'll have fine sport with the boys ; I'll get nuts and apples enow.

Ralph. And I must be a dog.

Robin. I'faith, thy head will never be out of the pottage- pot. [Exeunt.

Scene III. Enter Emperor, Faustus, a?id a Knight, tvith Attendants. Enip. Master Doctor Faustus, I have heard strange re- port of thy knowledge in the black art, how that none in my empire nor in the whole world can compare with thee for the rare effects of magic : they say thou hast a familiar spirit, by whom thou canst accomplish what thou list. This

■ SCENE III.] FA US TC/S, 5 1

therefore, is my request, that thou let me see some proof of thy skill, that mine eyes may be witnesses to confirm what mine ears have heard reported : and here I swear to thee, by the honour of mine imperial crown, that, whatever thou doest, thou shalt be no ways prejudiced or endamaged.

Ktiight^ Tfaith he looks much like a conjuror. \Aside.

Faust. My gracious sovereign, though I must confess myself far inferior to the report men have published, and nothing answerable to the honour of your imperial majesty, yet, for that love and duty binds me thereunto, I am content to do whatsoever your majesty shall command me.

Emp. Then, Doctor Faustus, mark what I shall say. As I was sometime solitary set Within my closet, sundry thoughts arose About the honour of mine ancestors, How they had won by prowess such exploits, Got such riches, subdu'd so many kingdoms, As we that do succeed, or they that shall Hereafter possess our throne, shall (I fear me) ne'er attain to that degree Of high renown and great authority : Amongst which kings is Alexander the Great, Chief spectacle of the world's pre-eminence. The bright shining of whose glorious acts Lightens the world with his reflecting beams, As when I hear but motion made of him, It grieves my soul I never saw the man.

52 FAUSTUS, [act IV.

If, therefore, thou, by cunning of thine art, Canst raise this man from hollow vaults below, Where lies entomb'd this famous conqueror, And bring with him his beauteous paramour, Both in their right shapes, gesture, and attire They us'd to wear during their time of life, Thou shalt both satisfy my just desire, And give me cause to praise thee whilst I live.

Fausi. My gracious lord, I am ready to accomplish your request, so far forth as by art and power of my spirit I am able to perform.

Knight. I'faith, thafs just nothing at all. ' \Aside.

Faust. But, if it like your Grace, it is not in my ability to present before your eyes the true substantial bodies of those two deceased princes,' which long since a-re consumed to dust.

Knight. Ay, marry, Master Doctor, now there's a sign of grace in you, when you will confess the truth. \Aside.

FiVist. But such spirits as can lively resemble Alexander and his paramour shall appear before your Grace, in that manner that they both Hved in, in their -most flourishing estate; which I doubt not shall sufficiently content your imperial majesty.

Evip. Go to. Master Doctor ; let me see tliem presently.

Knight. Do you hear, Master Doctor? you bring Alex- ander and his paramour before the Emperor!

Faust. Hov\^>then, sir?

SCENE ni.] FAUSTUS. ■ 53

lOiig/if. I'faith, that's as true as Diana turned me to a stag.

Fausf. No, sir; but, when Actxon died, he left the horns for you. — MephistophiUs, begone.

\Exit Mephistophilis. Knight. Nay, an' you go to conjuring, I'll begone.

{Exit. Faust. I'll meet with you anon for interrupting me so. — Here they are, my gracious lord. /

! Re-enter Mephistophilis, with Spirits in the shapes of

Alexander and his Paramour. j

Emp. "Master Doctor, T heard this lady, Avhile she lived, had a wart or mole in her neck : how shall I know whether it be so or no ? «

Faust. Your highness may boldly go and see.

Evip. Sure these are no spirits, but the true substantial bodies of those two deceased princes. \_Exeunt Spirits.

Faust. Wilt please your highness now to send for the knight that was so pleasant with me here of late ?

Emp. One of you call him forth. \Exit Attendant.

Re-enter the Knight, ivith a pair of horns on his head.

How now, sir knight ! Feel on thy head.

Knight. Thou damned wretch and cxecral Bred in the concave of some monstrous rock

54 FAUSTUS. [act IV.

How dar'st thou thus abuse a gentleman ? Villain, I say, undo what thou hast done !

Fatist. O, not so fast, sir ! there's no haste : but, good, are you remembered how you crossed me in my conference with the Emperor ? I think I have met with you for it.

Fvip. Good Master Doctor, at my entreaty release him : he hath done penance sufficient.

Faust My gracious lord, not so much for the injury he offered me here in your presence, as to dehght you with some mirth, hath Faustus worthily requited this injurious knight ; which being all I desire, I am content to release him of his horns :^and, sir knight, hereafter speak well of scholars. — Mephistophilis, transform him straight. [Mephis- TOPHiLis refHoves the horns.'] Now, my good lord, having done my duty, I humbly take my leave.

F7np. Farewell, master Doctor ; yet, ere you go, expect from me a bounteous reward.

[Exetmi Emperor, Knight, a?id Attendants.

Scene IV.

Faustus ajid Mephistophilis.

Faust. Now, Mephistophilis, the restless course That time doth run with calm and silent foot, Shortening my days and thread of vital life, Calls for the payment of my latest years ;

SCENE IV.] FAUSTUS. 55

Therefore, sweet Mephistophilis, let us Make haste to Wertenberg.

Meph. What, will you go on horseback or on foot ?

Fiwst. Nay, till I'm past this fair and pleasant green, I'll walk on foot.

Enhr a Horse-courser.

Horse-courser. I have been all this day seeking one Master Fustian : mass, see where he is !— God save you> Master Doctor !

Faust. What, horse-courser! you are well met.

Horse-c. Do you hear, sir? I have brought you forty dollars for your horse.

Faust. I cannot sell him so ; if thou likest him for fifty, take him.

Horse-c. Alas, sir, I have no more ! — I pray you, speak for me.

Meph. I pray you, let him have him : he is an honest fellow, and he has a great charge, neither wife nor child.

Faust. Well, come, give me your money [Horse-courser gives Faustus the money\ : my boy will deliver him to you. But I must tell you one thing before you have him ; ride him not into the water, at any hand.

Horse-c. Why, sir, will he not drink of all waters ?

Faust. O, yes, he will drink of all waters ; but ride him not

56 FAUSTUS. [act iv.

into the water : ride him over hedge or ditch, or \vhere thou wilt, but not into the water.

Horse-c. Well, sir. — Now I am a made man for ever ; Til not leave my horse for forty. Well, God b'wi'ye, sir : your boy will deliver him me : but, hark you, sir ; if my horse be sick or ill at ease, you'll tell me what it is?

Faust. Away, you villain ! what, dost think I am a horse- doctor? [^j\:// Horse-courser, What art thou, Faustus, but a man condemn'd to die ? Thy fatal time doth draw to final end ; Despair doth drive distrust into my thoughts : Confound these passions with a quiet sleep : Tush, Christ did call the thief upon the Cross ; Then rest thee, Faustus^ quiet in conceit.

\Sleeps ifi /lis chair.

Reenter Horse-courser, all wet, crying.

Horse- courser. AlaS; alas. Doctor Fustian, quotha? mass, Dr. Lopus was never such a doctor : has given me a purgation, has purged me of forty dollars ; I shall never see them more. But yet, like an ass as I was, I would not be ruled by him, for he bade me I should ride him into no water : now I, thinking my horse had had some rare quality that he would not have had me know of, I, like a venturous youth, rid him mto the deep pond at the town's end. I was no sooner in

SCENE IV.] FAUSTUS. S7

the middle of the pond, but my horse vanished away, and I sat upon a bottle of hay, never so near drowning in my Ufe. But I'll seek out my doctor, and have my forty dollars again, or I'll make it the dearest horse !— O, yonder is his snipper-snapper. — Do you hear? you, heypass, where's your master?

Mep/i. Why, sir, what would you ? you cannot speak with him.

Horse-c. But I will speak with him. Meph. Why, he's fast asleep : come so.me other time. Horse-c. I'll speak with him now, or I'll break his glass- windows about his ears.

Meph. I tell thee, he has not slept these eight nights. Horse-c. An' he have not slept these eight weeks, I'll speak with him.

Meph. See, where he is, fast asleep. Horse-c. Ay, this is he. — God save ye. Master Doctor^ Master Doctor, Master Doctor Fustian ! forty dollars, forty dollars for a bottle of hay !

Meph. Why, thou seest he hears thee not. Horse-c. So-ho, ho ! so-ho, ho ! \Holloivs hi his ear."] No, will you not wake? I'll make you wake ere I go. [Pulls Faustus by the leg, and pulls it a7aay.] Alas, I am undone ! what shall I do ?

Faust. O, my leg, my leg ! — Help, Mephistophilis ! call the officers. — My leg, my leg !

Meph. Come, villain, to the constable.

SB FAUSTUS. [act IV.

Horse-c, O Lord, sir, let me go, and I'll give you forty dollars more 1

Meph. Where be they ?

Horse-c. 1 have none about me : come to my ostry, and I'll give them you.

Meph. Begone quickly. [Horse-courser runs away.

Faust. What, is he gone ? farewell he ! Faustus has hi leg again, and the Horse-courser, I take it, a bottle of ha for his labour : well, this trick shall cost him forty dollars more.

Enter Wagner.

How now, W'agner ! what's the news with thee ?

Wag. Sir, the Duke of Vanholt doth earnestly entreat your company.

Faust. The Duke of Vanholt ! an honourable gentleman, to whom I must be no niggard of my cunning. — Come, Mephistophilis, let's away to him. \Excu?it.

Scene V. Enter the Duke of Vanholt, the Duchess and Faustus.

Duke. Believe me, Master Doctor, this merriment hath much pleased me.

Faust. My gracious lord, I am glad it contents you so well. — But it may, be, madam, you take no delight in this. I have heard that at times women do loner fo/ some

SCENE v.] FAUSTUS. 59

dainties or other : what is it, madam ? Tell me, and you shall have it.

Duchess. Thanks, good Master Doctor; and, for I see your courteous intent to pleasure me, I will not hide from you the thing my heart desires ; and, were it now summer, as it is January and the dead time of the winter, I would desire no better meat than a dish of ripe grapes.

Fatisi. Alas, madam, that's nothing ! — Mephistophilis, be gone! \Exit Mephistophilis.] Were it a greater thing than this, so it would content you, you should have it.

Re-enter Mephistophilis with grapes.

Here they be, madam : wilt please you taste on them ?

Diike. Believe me, Master Doctor, this makes me wonder above the rest, that being in the dead time of winter, and in the month of January, how you should come by these grapes.

Faust. If it like your Grace, the year is divided into two circles over the whole world, that, when it is here winter with us, in the contrary circle it is summer with them, as in India, Saba, and farther countries in the east ; and by means of a swift spirit that I have, I had them brought hither, as you see. — How do you like them, madam ? Be they good?

Duchess. Believe me. Master Doctor, they be the best grapes that e'er I tasted in my life before.

Faust. I am glad they content you so, madam.

6o FAUSTUS. [actv.

Dtike. Come, madam, let us in, where you must well reward this learned man for the great kindness he hath shewed to you.

Duchess. And so I will, my lord ; and, whilst I live, rest beholding for this courtesy. .

Faust. I humbly thank your Grace.

Duke. Come, Master Doctor, follow us, and receive your reward. , {Exeunt.

ACT V.

Scene I.

Enter Wagner.

Wag. I think my master means to die shortly, For he hath given to me all his goods : And yet, methinks, if that death were near, He would not banquet, and carouse, and swill Amongst the students, as even now he doth, Who are at supper with such belly-cheer As Wagner ne'er beheld in all his life. See, where they come ! belike the feast is ended. \Exit,

Enter Faustus tvith two or three Scholars, and Mephistophilis.

First Schol. Master Doctor Faustus, since our conference about fair ladies, which was the beautifulest in all the world, we have determined with ourselves that Helen of Greece

SCENE I.] FAUSTUS. 6i

was the admirablest lady that ever lived ; therefore, Master Doctor, if you will do us that favour, as to let us see that peerless dame of Greece, whom all the world admires for majesty, we should think ourselves much beholding unto you.

Faust, Gentlemen, For that I know your friendship is unfeign'd, And Faustus's custom is not to deny The just request of those that wish him well, You shall behold that peerless dame of Greece, No otherways for pomp and majesty Than when Sir Paris cross'd the seas with her, And brought the spoils to rich Dardania. Be silent, then, for danger is in words.

[^Micsic sounds, and Helen /^j-.f,?/// over the stage.

Sec. Schol. Too simple is my wit to tell her praise, Whom all the world admires for majesty.

Third Schol. No marvel though the angry Greeks pursu'd With ten years' war the rape of such a queen. Whose heavenly beauty passeth all compare.

First Schol. Since we have seen the pride of Nature's works, And only paragon of excellence, Let us depart ; and for this glorious deed Happy and blest be Faustus evermore.

Faust. Gentlemen, farewell : the same I wish to you.

\Exeuni Scholars.

62 FAUSTUS. [actv.

Enter an Old Man.

Old Man. Ah, Doctor Faustus, that I might prevail To guide thy steps unto the way of life, By which sweet path thou mayst attain the goal That shall conduct thee to celestial rest ! Break heart, drop blood, and mingle it with tears, Tears falling from repentant heaviness Of thy most vile and loathsome filthiness. The stench whereof corrupts the inward soul With such flagitious crimes of heinous sin As no commiseration may expel, But mercy, Faustus, of thy Saviour sweet, Whose blood alone must wash away thy guilt.

Faust. Where art thou, Faustus ? wretch, what hast thou done? Damn'd art thou, Faustus, damn'd ; despair and die ! Hell calls for right, and with a roaring voice Says, " Faustus, come ; thine hour is almost come i^ And Faustus now will come to do thee right.

[Mephistophilis gives him a dagger.

Old Ma?i. Ah, stay, good Faustus, stay thy desperate stabs ! I see an angel hovers o'er thy head, And, with a vial full of precious grace, Offers to pour the same into thy soul : Then call for mercy, and avoid despair.

Faust, Ah, my sweet friend, I feel ;,

SCENE I.] FAUSTUS. 63

Thy words to comfort my distressed soul ! Leave me awhile to ponder on my sins.

Old Mail. I go, sweet Faustus ; but with heavy cheer, Fearing the ruin of thy hapless soul. \Exit,

Faust. Accursed Faustus, where is mercy now ? I do repent ; and yet I do despair : Hell strives with grace for conquest in my breast : What shall I do to shun the snares of death ?

Meph. Thou traitor, Faustus, I arrest thy soul For disobedience to my sovereign lord : Revolt, or I'll in piece-meal tear thy flesh.

Faust. Sweet Mephistophilis, entreat thy lord To pardon my unjust presumption. And with my blood again I will confirm My former vow I made to Lucifer.

Meph. Do it, then, quickly, with unfeigned heart, Lest greater danger do attend thy drift.

Faust. Torment, sweet friend, that base and crooked age, That durst dissuade me from thy Lucifer, With greatest torments that our hell affords.

Me;ph. His faith is great ; I cannot touch his soul ; But what I may afflict his body with I will attempt, which is but little worth.

Faust. One thing, good servant, let me crave of thee^ To glut the longing of my heart's desire, — That I might have unto my paramour That heavenly Helen which I saw of late,

64 ^^ USTUS. [act v.

Whose sweet embracings may extinguish clean Those thoughts that do dissuade me from my vow, And keep mine oath I made to Lucifer.

Mepk. Faustus, this, or what else thou shalt desire, Shall be perform'd in twinkling of an eye.

Re-enter Helen.

Faust. Was this the face that launcli'd a thousand ships^ And burnt the topless towers of Ilium ? — Sweet Helen, make me immortal with a kiss. — {^Kisses her. Her lips suck forth my soul : see, where it flies 1 — Come, Helen, come, give me my soul again. Here wi 11 I dwell, for heaven is in these lips, And all is dross that is not Helena. I will be Paris, and for love of thee, Instead of Troy, shall Wertenberg be sacked 5 And I will combat with weak Menelaus, And wear thy colours on my plumed crest ; Yea, I will wound Achilles in the heel, And then return to Helen for a kiss. O, thou art fairer than the evening air Clad in the beauty of a thousand stars ; Brighter art thou than flaming Jupiter When he appeared to hapless Semele ; More lovely than the monarch cf the sky In wanton Arethusa's azur'd arms ; And none but thou shalt be my paramour / \Exeuni,

SCENE III.] FAUSTUS, 65

Scene II. E7iter the Old Man. Old Man. Accursed Faiistus, miserable man, That from thy soul exclud'st the grace of heaven, And fly'st the throne of his tribunal seat !

Enter Devils. '

Satan begins to sift me with his pride : As in this furnace God shall try my faith, My faith, vile hell, shall triumph over thee. Ambitious fiends, see how the heavens smile At your repulse, and laugh your state to scorn ! Hence, hell ! for hence I fly unto my God.

[Exeunt — on one side Devils, o?i the other, Old Man,

Scene III. Enter Faustus, with Scholars. Faust. Ah, gentlemen ! First Schol. What ails Faustus?

Faust. Ah, my sweet chamber-fellow, had I lived with thee, then had I lived still ! but now I die eternally. Look, comes he not ? comes he not ? Sec. Schol. What means Faustus ?

Third Schol. Belike he is grown into some sicknes3 by being over-solitary.

First Schol. If it be so, we'll have physicians lO cure him. — 'Tis but a surfeit ; never fear, man.

C

66 FA US TV'S. [act v. .

Faust. A surfeit of deadly sin, that hath damned both body and soul.

Sec. Schol. Yet, Faustus, look up to heaven ; remember God's mercies are infinite.

Faust. But Faustus's oftence can ne'er be pardoned : the serpent that tempted Eve may be saved, but not Faustus. Ah, gentlemen, hear me with patience, and tremble not at my speeches ! Though my heart pants and quivers to remember that I have been a student here these thirty years, O, would I had never seen Wertenberg, never read book ! and what wonders I have done, all Germany can witness, yea, all the world ; for which Faustus hath lost both Germany and the world, yea, heaven itself, heaven, the seat, of God, the throne of the blessed, the kingdom of joy; and must remain in hell for ever, hell, ah, hell, for ever ! Sweet friends, what shall become of Faustus, being in hell for ever ?

Third Schol. Yet, Faustus, call on God.

Faust. On God, whom Faustus hath abjured ! on God, whom Faustus hath blasphemed ! Ah, my God, I would weep ! but the devil draws in my tears. Gush forth blood, instead of tears ! yea, life and soul ! O, he stays my tongue ! I would lift up my hands ; but see, they hold them, they hold them !

AIL Who, Faustus ?

Faust. Lucifer and Mephistophilis. Ah, gentlemen, I gave them my soul for my cunning !

SCENE III.] FAUSTUS. 67

AIL God forbid !

Faiisf. God forbade it, indeed ; but Faustus hath done it : for vain pleasure of twenty-four years hath Faustus lost eternal joy and felicity. I writ them a bill with mine own blood : the date is expired ; the time will come, and he will fetch me.

First SchoL Why did not Faustus tell us of this before, that divines might have prayed for thee ?

Fatist Oft have I thought to have done so ; but the devil threatened to tear me in pieces, if I named God, to fetch both body and soul, if I once gave ear to divinity : and now 'tis too late. Gentlemen, away, lest you perish with me.

Sec. SchoL O, what shall we do to save Faustus ?

FausL Talk not of m.e, but save yourselves, and depart.

Third SchoL God will strengthen me; I will stay with Faustus.

First SchoL Tempt not God, sweet friend ; but let us into the next room, and there pray for him.

Faust. Ay, pray for me, pray for me ; and what noise soever ye hear, come not unto me, for nothing can rescue me.

Sec. SchoL Pray thou, and we will pray that God may have mercy upon thee.

Faust. Gentlemen, farewell : if I live till morning, I'll visit you ; if not^ Faustus is gone to hell.

AIL Faustus, farev/elL

{Exeunt Scholars. — The clock strikes eleven.

0 2

68 FAUSTUS. [act V.

FausT. Ah, Faustus, Now hast thou but one bare hour to live, And then thou must be damn'd perpetually \ Stand still j you ever-moving spheres of heaven, That time may cease, and midnight never come; Fair Nature's eye, rise, rise again, and make Perpetual day ; or let this hour be but A year, a month, a week, a natural day. That Faustus may repent and save his soul ! O lente^ lenie currite^ fioctis equi ! The stars move still, time runs, the clock will strike, The devil will come, and Faustus must be damn'd. O, I'll leap up to my God ! — Who pulls me down ? — See, see, where Christ's blood streams in the firmament ! One drop would save my soul, half a drop : ah, my

Christ !— Ah, rend not my heart for naming of my Christ ! Yet will I call on him : O, spare me, Lucifer ! -^ Where is it now ? 'tis gone : and see, where God Stretcheth out his arm, and bends his ireful brows \ Mountains and hills, come, come, and fall on me, And hide me from the heavy wrath of God ! No, no !

Then will I headlong run into the earth : Earth, gape ! O, no, it will not harbour me ! You stars that reign'd at my nativity, Whose influence hath allotted death and hell,

SCENE III.] FAUSTUS, 69

Now draw up Faustus, like a foggy mist, Into the entrails of yon labouring cloud[s], That, when you vomit forth into the air, ]\Iy limbs may issue from your smoky mouths, So that my soul may but ascend to heaven !

[The clock strikes the Jia'lf-hour. Ah^ half the hour is past ! 'twill all be past anon. OGod,

If thou wilt not have mercy on my soul, Yet for Christ's sake^ whose blood hath ransom'd me, Impose some end to my incessant pain ; Let Faustus live in hell a thousand years, A hundred thousand, and at last be sav'd ! O, no end is limited to damned souls ! Why wert thou not a creature wanting soul ? Or why is this immortal that thou hast ? Ah, Pythagoras' metempsychosis, were that true, This soul should fly from me, and I be chang'd Unto some brutish beast ! all beasts are happy, For, when they die,

Their souls are soon dissolv'd in elements ; But mine must live still to be plagu'd in hell. Curs'd be the parents that engender'd me ! No, Faustus, curse thyself, curse Lucifer That hath depriv'd thee of the joys of heaven.

\The clock strikes tivelve. O, it strikes, it strikes 1 Now, body, turn to air,

70 FAUSTUS. [actv.

Or Lucifer will bear thee quick to hell !

\Thunder and lightning, O soul, be chaiig'd into little water-drops, And fail into the ocean, ne'er be found !

Enter Devils.

My God, my God, look not so fierce on me ! Adders and serpents, let me breathe a while ! Ugly hell, gape not ! come not, Lucifer ! I'll burn my books ! — Ah, Mephistophilis !

\Exeiint Devils with Faustus.

Enter Choru§.

Chor. Cut is the branch that might have grown full straight. And burned is Apollo's laurel-bough, That sometime grew within this learned man. Faustus is gone : regard his hellish fall. Whose fiendful fortune may exhort the wise, Only to wonder at unlawful things^ Whose deepness doth entice such forward wits To practise more than heavenly power permits. {Exit.

T^rminat hcra diem ; terminat auctor opis.

Fa u s t.

PRELUDE AT THE THEATRE.

Manager. Dramatic Poet. Mr. Merryman.

Manager. My two good friends, on whom I have depended, At all times to assist me and advise ; Aid your old friend once more — to-night he tries (And greatly fears the fate that may attend it) For German lands a novel enterprise. To please the public I am most desirous ; *' Live and let live," has ever been their maxim, Gladly they pay the trifle that we tax 'em, And gratitude should with new zeal inspire us. Our temporary theatre's erected. Planks laid, posts raised, and something is expected. Already have the audience ta'en their station, With eye-brows lifted up in expectation ; Thoughtful and tranquil all — with hopes excited, Disposed to be amused — amazed — delighted ! I know the people's taste — their whims—caprices, Could always get up popular new pieces ; But never have I been before so harassed As now — so thoroughly perplext, embarrassed !

72 FAUST.

Every one reads so much of every thing : The books they read are not the best, 'tis true : JBut then they are for ever reading — reading ! This being so, how can we hope to bring Any thing out, that shall be good and new ? What chance of now as formerly succeeding?

How I delight to see the people striving To force their way into our crowded booth, Pouring along, and fighting, nail and tooth, Digging with elbows, through the passage driving, As if it were St. Peter's gate, and leading To something more desirable than Eden ; Long before four, while daylight's strong as ever, All hurrying to the box of the receiver. Breaking their necks for tickets — thrusting — ^jamming, As at a baker's door in time of famine !

On men so various in their disposition, So different in manners — rank — condition ; How is a miracle like this effected ? The poet — he alone is the magician. On thee, my friend, we call — from thee expect it.

Poet. Oh, tell me not of the tumultuous crowd, My powers desert me in the noisy throng ; Hide, hide from me the multitude, whose loud And dizzy whirl would hurry me along AgaiiTist my will ; and lead me to some lone

FA UST.

And silent vale — some scene in fairy-land,

There only will the poet's heart expand,

Surrendered to the impulses of song,

Lost in delicious visions of its own,

Where Love and Friendship o'er the heart at rest

Watch through the flowing hours, and we are blest !

Thoughts by the soul conceived in silent joy, Sounds often muttered by the timid voice, Tried by the nice ear, delicate of choice, Till we at last are pleased, or self-deceived, The whole a rabble's madness may destroy ; And this, when, after toil of many years, Touched and retouched, the perfect piece appears To challenge praise, or win unconscious tears, As the vain heart too easily beHeved ; Some sparkling, showy thing, got up in haste. Brilliant and light, will catch the passing taste. The truly great, the genuine, the sublime Wins its slow way in silence ; and the bard, Unnoticed long, receives from after-time The imperishable wreath, his best, his sole reward !

Mr. Merry. Enough of this cold cant of future ages, And men hereafter doting on- your pages ; To prattle thus of other times is pleasant, And all the while neglect our own, the present. Why, what if I too — Mister Merryman —

n

74 FAUST.

In my vocation acted on your plan ?

If on the unborn we squander our exertion,

Who will supply the living with diversion ?

And, clamour as you, authors, may about it,

They want amusement — will not go without it ;

Just look at me, a fine young dashing fellow —

My very face works wonders, let me tell you ; —

Now my way, for your guidance I may mention —

Please but yourself, and feel no apprehension.

The crowd will share the feelings of the poet,

The praise he seeks they liberally bestow it :

The more that come, the better for the writer.

Each flash of wit is farther felt — seems brighter,

And every little point appreciated,

By some one in the circle over-rated.

All is above its value estimated : '

Take courage then, — come — now for a chef-d^oetivre —

To make a name — to live, and live for ever —

Call Fancy up, with her attendant troop,

Reason and Judgment, Passion, Melancholy,

Wit, Feeling, and among the choral group

Do not forget the little darling, Folly !

Manager. But above all, give them enough of action \ He who gives most, will give most satisfaction ; They come to see a shoiv — no work whatever, Unless it be a show, can win their favour ; Then, as they wish it, let them gape and stare ; —

FAUST. 75

Crowd scene on scene— enough and still to spare. A show is what they want ; they love and pay for it ; Spite of its serious parts, sit through a play for it \ And he who gives one is a certain favourite ; Would you please many, you must give good measure ; Then each finds something in't to yield him pleasure ; The more you give, the greater sure your chance is To please, by varying scenes, such various fancies. The interest of a piece, no doubt, increases Divided thus, and broken into pieces. We want a dish to hit the common taste; Then hash it up and serve it out in haste ! And, for my part, methinks it little matters : Though you may call your work a finished whole, The public soon will tear this whole to tatters, And but on piecemeal parts their praises dole.

Poet. You cannot think how very mean a task, How humbling to the genuine artist's mind, To furnish such a drama as you ask : The poor pretender's bungling tricks, I find, Are now established as the rules of trade, — Receipts — by which successful plays are made !

Manager. Such an objection is of little weight Against my reasoning. If a person chooses To work effectively, no doubt he uses The instrument that's most appropriate. Your play may — for your audience — be too good \ —

76 FAUST.

Coarse lumpish logs are they of clumsy wood— Blocks — with the hatchet only to be hewed ! — One comes to drive away ennui or spleen ; Another, with o'erloaded paunch from table ; A third, than all the rest less tolerable, From reading a review or magazine. Hither all haste, anticipate delight, As to a Masque, desire each face illuming, And each, some novel character assuming, Place for awhile their own half out of sight. The ladies, too, tricked out in brilliant gear, Themselves ambitious actresses appear, And, though unpaid, are still performers here. What do you dream in your poetic pride ? Think you a full house can be satisfied And every auditor an ardent cheerer ? Pray, only look at them a little nearer; One half are cold spectators, inattentive ; The other dead to every fine incentive ; One fellow's thinking of a game of cards ; One on a wild night of intoxication : Why court for such a set the kind regards Of the coy Muse — her highest fascination ? I tell thee only, give enough — enough ; Still more and more - no matter of what stuff; You cannot go astray ; let all your views Be only for the moment to amuse,

FAUST,

To keep them in aniazement or distraction ; Man is incapable cf satisfaction. Why, what affects you thus — is't inspiration ? A reverie ? — ah ! can it be vexation ?

Poet. Go, and elsewhere some fitter servant find ; What ! shall the poet squander then away, For thy poor purposes, himself, his mind. Profane the gift, which Nature, when she gave To him, to him entrusted for mankind, — Their birthright — thy poor bidding to obey. And sink into an humble trading slave ? Whence is his power all human hearts to win, And why can nothing his proud march oppose, As through all elements the conqueror goes ? Oh, is it not the harmony within, The music, that hath for its dwelling-place His own rich soul ? — the heart that can receive Again into itself, again embrace The world it clothed with beauty and bade live ? With unregarding hand when Nature throws Upon the spindle the dull length of thread, That on, still on, in weary sameness flows, When all things, that in unison agreeing, Should join to form the happy web of Being, Are tangled in inextricable strife : Who can awake the blank monotony To measured order? Who upon the dead

77

78 FAUST.

Unthinking chaos breathe the charm of life, Restore the dissonant to harmony, And bid the jarring individual be A chord, that, in the general consecration. Bears part with all in musical relation ? Who to the tempest's rage can give a voice Like human passion ? bid the serious mind Glow with the colouring of the sunset hours ? Who in the dear path scatter spring's first flowers, When wanders forth the ladye of his choice ? Who of the valueless green leaves can bind A wreath — the artist's proudest ornament — Or, round the conquering hero's brow entwined The best reward his country can present ? Whose voice is fame ? who gives us to inherit Olympus, and the loved Elysian field ? The soul of MAN subHmed — man's soaring spirit Seen in the poet, gloriously revealed.

Mr. Merry. A poet yet should regulate his fancies. Like that of life should get up his romances ; First a chance meeting — then the young folk tarry Together — toy and trifle, sigh and marry, Are link'd for ever, scarcely half intending it. Once met — 'tis fixed — no changing and no mending it. Thus a romance runs : fortune, then reverses ; Rapture, then coldness ; bridal dresses — hearses ; The lady dying — letters from the lover,

FA UST. 79

And, ere you think of it, the thing is over. Shift your scenes rapidly ', write fast and gaily, Give, in your play, the life we witness daily ; The life which all men live, yet few men notice. Yet which will please ('tis very strange, but so 'tis), Will please, when forced again on their attention, More than the wonders of remote invention ; Glimmerings of truth — calm sentiment— smart strictures- Actors in bustle — clouds of moving pictures — The young will crowd to see a work, revealing Their own hearts to themselves ; in solitude Will feast on the remembered visions — stealing For frenzied passion its voluptuous food : Unbidden smiles and tears unconscious start. For oh ! the secrets of the poet's art. What are they but the dreams of the young heart? Oh ! 'tis the young enjoy the poet's mood, Float with him on imagination's wing, Think all his thoughts, are his in everything. Are, while they dream not of it, all they see : Youth— youth is the true time for sympathy. This is the sort of drink to take the town ; Flavour it to their taste, they gulp it down. Your true admirer is the generous spirit, Unformed, unspoiled, he feels all kindred merit As if of his own being it were part, And growing with the growth of his own heart ]

8o FAUST.

Feels gratitude, because he feels that truth

Is taught hun by the poet — this is Youth ;

Nothing can please your grown ones, they're so knowing,

And no one thanks the poet but the growing.

Poet. Give me, oh ! give me back the days When I — I too — was young — And felt, as they now feel, each coming hour New consciousness of power. Oh happy, happy time, above all praise ! Then thoughts on thoughts and crowding fancies sprung, And found a language in unbidden lays ; Unintermitted streams from fountains ever flowing. Then, as I wander'd free, In every field, for me Its thousand flowers were blowing !

A veil through which I did not see, A thin veil o'er the world wa.s thrown

In every bud a mystery ;

Magic in everything unknown : —

The fields, the grove, the air was haunted,

And all that age has disenchanted. Yes ! give me — give me back the days of youth. Poor, yet how rich ! — my glad inheritance The inextinguishable love of truth, While life's realities w^ere all romance — Give me, oh ! give youth's passions unconfined, The rush of joy that felt almost like pain.-

FAUST, 8r

Its hate, its love, its own tumultuous mind , — Give me my youth again !

Mr. Merry. Why, my dear friend, for youth thus sigh and prattle, 'Twould be a very good thing in a battle ; Or on your arm if a fine girl were leaning, Then, T admit, the wish would have some meaning ; In running for a bet, to clear the distance, A young man's sinews would be som.e assistance j Or if, after a dance, a man was thinking Of reeling out the night in glorious drinking ; But you have only among chords, well known Of the familiar harp, with graceful finger Freely to stray at large, or fondly linger, Courting some wandering fancies of your own ; While, with capricious windings and delays. Loitering, or lost in an enchanted maze Of sweet sounds, the rich melody, at will Gliding, here rests, here indolently strays, Is ever free, yet evermore obeys The hidden guide, thar journeys with it still. This is, old gentleman, your occupation. Nor think that it makes less our veneration. " Age," says the song, " the faculties bewildering, Renders men childish " — no ! it finds them children.

Man. Come, come, no more of this absurd inventory' Of flattering phrases — courteous — complimentary.

Sz FAUST.

You both lose time in words unnecessary,

Playing with language thus at fetch and carry ;

Think not of tuning now or preparation,

Strike up, my boy — no fear — no hesitation,

Till you commence no chance of inspiration.

But once assume the poet — then the fire

From heaven will come to kindle and inspire.

Strong drink is what we want to gull the people,

A hearty, brisk, and animating tipple ;

Come, come, no more delay, no more excuses.

The stuff we ask you for, at once produce us.

Lose this day loitering — 'twill be the same story

To-morrow — and the next more dilatory;

Then indecision brings its own delays.

And days are lost lamenting o'er lost days.

Are you in earnest ? seize this very minute —

What you can do, or dream you can, begin it,

Boldness has genius, power, and magic in it.

Only engage, and then the mind grows heated —

Begin it, and the work will be completed !

You know our German bards, like bold adventurers,

Bring out whate'er they please, and laugh at censurers.

Then do not think to-day of sparing scenery —

Command enough of dresses and machinery ;

Use as yon please — fire, water, thunder, levin —

The greater and the lesser lights of heaven.

Squander away the stars at your free pleasure,

And build up rocks and mountains without measure.

FA UST. 83

Of birds and beasts we've plenty here to lavish,

Come, cast away all apprehensions slavish —

Strut, on our narrow stage, with lofty stature,

As moving through the circle of wide nature.

With swiftest speed, in calm thought weighing well

Each movement — move from heaven through earth to

HELL.

PROLOGUE IN HEAVEN,

Der Herr, the Heavenly Hosts, afterwards Mephistopheles.

The three Archangels come forward.

Raphael, The sun, as in the ancient days, ^Mong sister stars in rival song, His destined path observes, obeys. And still in thunder rolls along : New strength and full beatitude The angels gather from his sight. Mysterious all — yet all is good. All fair as at the birth of light !

Gabriel. Swift, unimaginably swift, Soft spins the earth, and glories bright Of mid-day Eden change and shift To shades of deep and spectral night. The vexed sea foams — waves leap and moan, And chide the rocks widi insult hoarse,

84 FAUST,

And wave and rock are hurried on, And suns and stars in endless course.

Michael. And winds with winds mad v/ar maintain, From sea to land, from land to sea ; And heave round earth, a living chain Of interwoven agency. — Guides of the bursting thunder-peal, Fast lightnings flash with deadly ray, While, Lord, with Thee thy servants feel Calm effluence of abiding day.

Al/. New strength and full beatitude The angels gather from thy sight ; Mysterious all, yet all is good, All fair as at the birth of light.

Meph. Since Thou, O Lord, dost visit us once more, To ask how things are going on, and since You have received me kindly heretofore, I venture to the levee of my prince. Pardon me, if I fail, after the sort Of bending courtiers here, to pay my court ; The company is far too fine for me, They smile with scorn such folk in heaven to see. High hymns and solemn words are not my forte. Pathos from me would look too like a joke ; Words, that from others had set angels weeping, To laughter would your very self provoke, If laughter were not wholly out of keeping.

FA [/ST. 85

Nothing of suns or worlds have I to say,

I only see how men fret on their day ;

The little god of earth is still the same

Strange thing he was, when first to life he came ;

That life were somewhat better, if the light

Of heaven had not been given to spoil him quite.

Reason he calls it — see its blessed fruit,

Than the brute beast man is a beastlier brute ;

He seems to me, if I may venture on

Such a comparison^ to be like one

Of those long lank-legged grasshoppers, whose song

The self-same creak, chirps, as they bound along,

Monotonous and restless in the grass,

'Twere well 'twas in grass always ; but, alas,

They thrust their snouts in every filth they pass.

Der Herr. Hast thou no more than this to say, Thou, who complainest every day ? Are all things evil in thy sight ? Does nothing on the earth move right?

Meph. Not anything, my lord — poor men so fervent And foolish are — I almost feel compassion.

Der Herr. Dost thou know Faust ?

Meph. The doctor ?

Der Herr. Yes; my servant.

Meph. Truly, he serves in a peculiar fashion; Child though he be of human birth, His food and drink are not of earth.

86 FAUST,

Foolish — even he at times will feel The folly in such hopes to deal :— His fancies hurry him afar ; Of heaven he asks its highest star ; Self-willed and spoiled, in mad pursuit^ Of earth demands its fairest fruit ; And all that both can give supplied, Behold him still unsatisfied !

Der Herr, Yes ; for he serves in a perplexing scene, That oft misleads him. Still his will is right; Soon comes the time to lead him into light. Now is the first prophetic green, The hopes and promises of spring. The unformed bud and blossoming ; And he who reared the tree and knows the clime Will seek and find fair fruit in fitting time.

Meph. What will you wager you don't lose him yet. With all his promise ? Had I only freedom On my own path with easy lure to lead him, I've not a doubt of it I win the bet.

Der Herr. As long as on the earth endures his life To deal with him have full and free permission ; JVEan's hour on earth is weakness, error, strife.

Meph. Cheerfully I agree to the condition ; I have no fancy for the dead : your youth, With full fresh cheeks^ tastes daintier to my tooth.

FAUST, 87

Should a corpse call, the answer at my house Is, " Not at home." My play is cat and mouse.

Be?' Herr. Be it permitted : from his source divert And draw this Spirit captive down with thee ; Till baffled and in shame thou dost admit, " A good man, clouded though his senses be By error, is no willing slave to it." His consciousness of good will it desert The good man ? — yea, even in his darkest hours Still doth he war with Darkness and the Povvers Of Darkness ; — for the light he cannot see Still round him feels ; — and, if he be not free, Struggles against this strange captivity.

Meph. Aye ! feelings that have no abiding- Short struggles — give him to my guiding— I cannot have a doubt about the bet. Oh ! in what triumph shall I crow at winning ! Dust he shall eat, and eat with pleasure yet. Like that first SNAKE in my poor heraldry, Who has been eating it from^ the beginning.

Der Herr. Here too take your own course— you are quite free In the concern, — with anything but loathing I look on folk like you. My work demands Such servants. Of the Spirits of Denial The pleasantest, that figures in Man's Trial^ Is Old Iniquity in his Fool's clothing \

88 FAUST,

The Vice is never heavy upon hands ; Without the Knave the Mystery were nothing. For Man's activity soon tires, (A lazy being at the best) And sting and spur requires. In indolent enjoyment Man would live, And this companion, whom I therefore give, Goads, urges, drives — is devil and cannot rest. But ye, pure sons of God, be yours the sight Of Beauty, each hour brighter and more bright ! The Life, in all around, below, above That ever lives and works — the rnfinite Enfold you in the happy bonds of love ! And all that flows unfixed and undefined In glimmering phantasy before the mind, Bid Thought's enduring chain for ever bind !

\Heaveii closes. The archangels disperse, Meph. \_alone\. I'm very glad to have it in m.y power To see him now and then ; he is so civil : I rather like our good old governor — Think only of his speaking to the devil !

Time, Night Scene, A hi^h-arched, narrow, Gothic chanihcr-^ Faust at his desk — restless. • Faust. Alas ! I have explored Philosophy, and Law, and Medicine ;

FAUST, Sg

And over deep Divinity have pored,

Studying with ardent and laborious zeal ;

And here I am at last, a very fool,

With useless learning curst,

No wiser than at first !

Here am I — boast and wonder of the school :

Magister, Doctor^ and I lead

These ten years past, my pupils' creed ;

Winding, by dexterous words, with ease,

Their opinions as I please.

And now to feel that nothing can be known !

This is a thought that burns into my heart.

I have been more acute than all these triflers,

Doctors and authors, priests, philosophers ;

Have sounded all the depths of every science.

Scruples, or the perplexity of doubt,

Torment me not, nor fears of hell or devih

But I have lost all peace of mind :

Whate'er I knew, or thought I knew,

Seen\s now unmeaning or untrue.

The fancy too has died away,

The hope, that I might, in my day,

Instruct, and elevate mankind.

Thus robbed of learning's only pleasure.

Without dominion, rank, or treasure,

Without one joy that earth can give,

Could dog — were I a dog — so live ?

90 FA UST,

Therefore to magic, with severe And patient toil, have I applied, Despairing of all other guide. That from some Spirit I might hear Deep truths, to others unrevealed^ And mysteries from mankind sealed -, And never more, with shame of heart, Teach things, of which I know no part. Oh, for a glance into the earth ! To see below its dark foundations, Life's embryo seeds before their birth And Nature's silent operations. Thus end at once this vexing fever Of words — mere words — repeated ever.

Beautiful Moon ! — Ah ! would that now, For the last time, thy lovely beams Shone on my troubled brow ! Oft by this desk, at middle night, I have sat gazing for thy light. Wearied with search, through volumes endless, I sate 'mong papers — crowded books, Alone — when thou, friend of the friendless, Camest smiling in, with soothing looks. Oh, that upon some headland height I now were wandering in thy light ! Floating with Spirits, like a shadow, Round mountain-cave, o'er twilight meadow;

FAUST, 91

And from the toil of thought relieved, No longer sickened and deceived, In thy soft dew could bathe, and find Tranquillity and health of mind.

Alas ! and am I in the gloom

Still of this cursed dungeon room ?

Where even heaven's light, so beautiful,

Through the stained glass comes thick and dull ;

'Mong volumes heaped from floor to ceiling,

Scrolls with book-worms through them stealing ;

Dreary walls, where dusty paper

Bears deep stains of smoky vapour;

Glasses^ instruments, all lumber

Of this kind the place encumber ;

All a man of learning gathers.

All bequeathed me by my fathers,

Crucibles from years undated,

Chairs of structure antiquated,

Are in strange confusion hurled !

Here, Faustus, is thy world — a world !

Btill dost thou ask, why in thy breast

The sick heart flutters ill at rest ?

Why a, dull Sense of suffering

Deadens life's current at the spring?

From living nature thou hast fled

To dwell 'mong fragments of the dead ;

And for the lovely scenes which Heaven

92 FAUST,

Hath made man for, to man hath given ; Hast chosen to pore o'er mouldering bones Of brute and human skeletons !

Away— away and far away !

This book, where secret spells are scanned,

Traced by Nostradam's own hand,

Will be thy strength and stay :

The courses of the stars to thee

No longer are a mystery;

The thoughts of Nature thou canst seek,-

As Spirits with their brothers speak.

It isj it is the planet hour

Of thy own being ; light, and power,

And fervour to the soul are given,

As proudly it ascends its heaven.

To ponder here, o'er spells and signs,

Symbohc letters, circles, lines ;

And from their actual use refrain,

Were time and labour lost in vain :

Then ye, whom I feel floating near me,

Spirits, answer, ye who hear me !

\He opens the book^ and lights upon the sign of Macrocosmus. Ha ! what new life divine, intense. Floods in a moment every sense ; I feel the dawn of youth again,

FAUST, 93

Visiting each glowing veiii !

Was it a god — a god who wrote these signs?

The tumults of my soul are stilled,

My withered heart with rapture filled ;

In virtue of the magic lines,

The secret powers that Nature mould,

Their essence and their acts unfold —

Am I a god ? — Can mortal sight

Enjoy, endure this burst of light?

How clear these silent characters !

All Nature present to my view,

And each creative act of hers —

And is the glorious vision true ?

The wise man's words at length are plain,

Whose sense so long I sought in vain :

" The Worlde of Spirits no Clouds conceale :

Man's Eye is dim, it cannot see.

Man's Heart is dead, it cannot feele.

Thou, who wouldst knowe the Things that be,

The Heart of Earth in the Sunrise red,

Bathe, till its Stains of Earth are fled."

\Hs looks over ike sign attentively.

Oh ! how the spell before my sight Brings nature's hidden ways to light : See ! all things with each other blending — Each to all its being lending—

94 FAUST,

All on each in turn depending — ,

Heavenly ministers descending —

And again to heaven up-tending —

Floating, mingUng, interweaving —

Rising, sinking, and receiving

Each from each, while each is giving

On to each, and each relieving

Each, the pails of gold, the living

Current through the air is heaving ;

Breathing blessings, see them bending,

Balanced worlds from change defending,

While every where diffused is harmony unending !

Oh ! what a vision— but a vision only !

Can heart of man embrace

Illimitable Nature ?

Fountain of life, forth-welling ;

The same in every place ;

That dost support and cheer

Wide heaven, and teeming earth, and every creature

That hath therein its dwelling,

Oh ! could the blighted soul but feel thee near !

To thee still turns the withered heart.

To thee the spirit, seared and lonely,

Childlike, would seek the sweet restorative ;

On thy maternal bosom feed and live.

I ask a solace thou dost not impart i

FAUST. 95

The food I hunger for thou dost not give !

\He tur?is over the leaves of the book impatiently, till his eye rests on the sign of the Spirit of the Earth. How differently this sign affects my frame ! Spirit of Earth ! my nature is the same, Or near akin to thine ! How fearlessly I read this sign ! And feel even now new powers are mine ; While my brain burns, as though with wine ; Give me the agitated strife, The madness of the world of life ; I feel within my soul the birth Of strength, enabhng me to bear, And thoughts, impelling me to share The fortunes, good or evil, of the Earth ; To battle with the Tempest's breath. Or plunge where Shipwreck grinds his teeth.

All around grows cold and cloudy,

The moon withdraws her ray ;

The lamp's loose flame is shivering,

It fades, it dies away.

Ha ! round my brow what sparkles ruddy

In trembling light are quivering ?

And, to and fro.

Stream sheets of flame, in fearful play,

Rolled and unrolled,

96 FAUST.

In crimson fold, They float and flow !

From the vaulted space above, \

A shuddering horror seems to move Down, — down upon me creeps and seizes The life's blood, in its grasp that freezes ; 'Tis thou — I feel thee. Spirit, near, Thou hast heard the spell, and thou Art hovering around me now ; Spirit ! to my sight appear, How my heart is torn in sunder — All my thoughts convulsed with wbnder — Every faculty and feeling Strained to welcome thy revealing. Spirit, my heart, my heart is given to thee, Though death may be the price, I cannot choose but see ! \He grasps the hook, and pronounces the sign of the Spirit mysteriously ; a red flame is seen playing about, and in the flame the Spirit.

Spirit. Who calls me ?

Faust, [averting his face.'] Form of horror, hence !

Spirit. Hither from my distant sphere. Thou hast compelled me to appear; Hast sucked me down, and dragged me thence. With importuning violence ; And now

Faust. I shudder, overpowered with fear.

Spirit. Panting, praying to look on me,

FAUST. 97

My voice to listen, my face to see,

Thy soul's strong mandate bends me down to thee.

Here am I — here and now, what fear

Seizes thee ? — thee — the more than Man ?

Where the strong soul, that could dare Summon Us, Spirits ? Where The soul, that could conceive, and plan, Yea, and create its world ; whose pride The bounds which Hmit Man defied; Heaved with high sense of inborn powers. Nor feared to mete its strength with ours. Where art thou, Faust ? and, were the accents thine, That rang to me ? the soul that pressed itself to mine ? Art thou the same, whose senses thus are shattered, Whose very being in my breath is scattered Shuddering thro' all life's depths — poor writhing worm !

Faust. Creature of flame, shall I grow pale before thee ? I am he, I called thee, I am Faust, thy Equal !

Spirit. In the currents of life, in the tempests of motion, In the fervour of act, in the fire, in the storm,

Hither and thither,

Over and under,

Wend I and wander.

Birth and the grave

Limitless ocean, I Where the restless wave

Undulates ever,

98 FAUST.

Under and over Their seething strife, Heaving and weaving The changes of Hfe. At the whirring loom of Time unawed, I work the living mantle of God. Fatist. Swift Spirit^ that ever round the v/ide world heavest ! How near I feel to thee !

Spirit. Man, thou art as the Spirit, whom thou con- ceivest, Not ME. [Vanishes,

Faust [overpowered with co9ifusion\ Not thee ! Whom then ? I ! image of the Deity ! And not even such as thee ! [A knock.

'Sdeath ! 'tis this pupil lad of mine — He comes my airy guests to banish. This elevating converse dread, These visions, dazzlingly outspread Before my senses, all will vanish At the formal fellow's tread !

Enter Wagner, in /us dressing-gown and ni'-^lit-cap — a lamp in his hand. Faust turns round, displeased.

Wag. Forgive me, but I thought you were declaiming; Been reciting some Greek tragedy, no doubt ; I wish to improve myself in this same art ;

FAUST, 99

'Tis a most useful one. I've heard it said,

An actor might give lessons to a priest,

Faust. Yes ! when your priest's an actor, as may happen. Wag. Oh ! if a man shuts himself up for ever

In his dull study ; if one sees the world

Never, unless on some chance holyday.

Looks at it from a distance, through a telescope,

How can we learn to sway the minds of men

By eloquence ? to rule them, or persuade ?

Faust. If feeling does not prompt, in vain you strive ;

If from the soul the language does not come,

By its own impulse, to impel the hearts

Of hearers, with communicated power,

In vain you strive — in vain you study earnestly.

Toil on for ever ; piece together fragments ;

Cook up your broken scraps of sentences,

And blow, with puffing breath, a struggling light,

GHmmering confusedly now, now cold in ashes ;

Startle the school-boys with your metaphors ;

And, if such food may suit your appetite.

Win the vain wonder of applauding children \

But never hope to stir the hea,rts of men.

And mould the souls of many into one.

By words which come not native from the heart ! Wag. Expression, graceful utterance, is the first

And best acquirement of the orator.

This do I feel, and feel my want of it !

ICO FAUST.

Faust Be honest, If you would bt eloquent; Be not a chiming fool with cap and bells ; Reason and genuine feeling want no arts Of utterance — ask no toil of elocution ; And when you are in earnest, do you need A search for words ? Oh ! these fine holyday phrases, In which you robe your worn-out common-places, These scraps of paper which you crimp and curl. And twist into a thousand idle shapes, These filigree ornaments are good for nothing, Cost time and pains, please few, impose on no one ; Are unrefreshing, as the wind that whistles, In autumn, 'mong the dry and wrinkled leaves.

Wag. The search of knowledge is a weary one, And life how short ! Ars longa, Vita brevis I How often have the heart and brain, o'er-tasked, Shrunk back despairing from enquiries vain \ Oh ! with what difficulty are the means Acquired, that lead us to the springs of knowledge ! And when the path is found, ere we have trod Half the long way — poor wretches ! we must die !

Faust. Are mouldy records, then, the holy springs, Whose healing waters still the thirst within ? Oh ! never yet hath mortal drunk A draught restorative. That welled not from the depths of his own soul !

Wa:::. Pardon me — but you will at least confess

FAUST, joi

That 'tis delightful to transfuse yourself

Into the spirit of the ages past ;

To see how wise men thought in olden time,

And how far we outstep their march in knowledge.

Faust. Oh yes ! as far as from the earth to heaven ! To us, my friend, the times that are gone by Are a mysterious book, sealed with seven seals : That which you call the spirit of ages past Is but, in truth, the spirit of some few authors In which those ages are beheld reflected. With what distortion strange heaven only knows. Oh ! often, what a toilsome thing it is This study of thine, at the first glance we fly it. A mass of things confusedly heaped together ; A lumber-room of dusty documents, Furnished with all-approved court-precedents^ And old traditional maxims ! History ! Facts dramatized say rather — action — plot — Sentiment, every thing the writer's own. As it best fits the web-work of his story. With here and there a solitary fact Of consequence, by those grave chroniclers, Pointed with many a moral apophthegm, And wise old saws, learned at the puppet-shows.

Wag. But then the world, man's heart and mind, are things Of which 'twere well that each man had some knowledge.

103 FAUST.

Faust Why yes ! — they call it knowledge. Who may dare To name things by their real names ? The few Who did know something, and were weak enough To expose their hearts unguarded — to expose Their views and feelings to the eyes of men, They have been nailed to crosses — thrown to flames. Pardon me ; but 'tis very late, my friend ; Too late to hold this conversation longer.

Wagner. How willingly would I sit up for ever, Thus to converse with you so learnedly. To-morrow, as a boon on Easter-day, You must permit me a few questions more : I have been diligent in all my studies ; Given my whole heart and time to the pursuit ; And I know much^ but would know every thing. \Exif.

Faust \alone\. How hope abandons not the humblest mind ! Poor lad ! he clings to learning's poorest forms, Delves eagerly for fancied gold to find Worms — dust j is happy among dust and v/orms !

Man's voice, and such a man's, and did it dare Breathe round me here, where Spirits thronged the air ? And yet, poor humble creature that thou art, How do I thank thee from my very heart ! When my senses sank beneath Despair, and sought relief in death ;

FAUST, 103

When life within me dying shivered, Thy presence from the trance deUvered. Oh, while I stood before that giant stature. How dwarfed I felt beneath its nobler nature !

Image of God ! I thought that I had been Sublimed from earth, no more a child of clay, That, shining gloriously with Heaven's own day, I had beheld Truth's countenance serene. High above cherubs — above all that serve. Raised up immeasurably- -every nerve Of Nature's life seemed animate with mine ; Her very veins with blood from my veins filled — Her spirit moving as my spirit willed ; Then did I in creations of my own (Oh, is not man in every thing divine !) Build worlds — or bidding them no longer be — Exert, enjoy a sense of deity — • Doomed for such dreams presumptuous to alone i All by one vs^ord of thunder overthrown !

Spirit, I may not nlete myself with thee ! True, I compelled thee to appear. But had no power to hold thee here. Oh 1 in that rapturous moment how I felt— « How little and how great ! and thus to be With savage scorn fiercely flung back upon I'he lot to mortals dealt.

104 FAUST.

And its uncertainties ! again the prey

Of deep disquietude ! with none

To guide me on my way,

Or shew me what to shun !

That impulse goads me on — shall I obey ?

Alas ! 'tis not our sufferings alone,

But even our acts obstruct us and delay

Our life's free flow.

To what man's spirit conceives Of purest, best, some foreign growth still cleaves, We seize what this world gives of good, and deem All Better a deception and a dream. High feelings, that in us to life gave birth, Are numbed and wither in the coil of earth.

How boldly, in the days of youthful Hope, Imagination spreads her wing unchecked. Deeming all things within her ample scope, To the Eternal ! and how small a space Suffices her when Fortune flees apace. And all we loved in life's strange whirl is wrecked ! Deep in the breast Care builds her nest, Rocks restlessly and scares away all rest. Some secret sorrow still the envious one Keeps stirring at till peace and joy are gone. Each day she masks her in some new disguise, Each day with some new trick the temper tries,

FAUST,

Is House and Homestead, Child and Wife, Fire, Water, Poison, Dagger-knife. ^

Evils that never come disquiet thee Evermore mourning losses not to be !

I am not like the gods. No ! no ! I tremble, Feeling impressed upon my mind the thought, Of the mean worm whose nature I resemble. 'Tis dust, and lives in dust, and the chance tread Crushes the wretched reptile into nought.

Is this not dust in which I live ? This prison- place, what can it give Of life or comfort ? wheresoe'er The sick eye turns, it sees one tier — Along the blank high wall — of shelves And gloomy volumes, which themselves Are dust and lumber ; and the scrolls That crowd the hundred pigeon-holes And crevices of that old case — That darkens and confines the space Already but too small — 'mong these What can life be but a disease? Here housed in dust, with grub and motli, I sicken — mind and body both. — Shall I find here the cure I ask, Resume the edifying task ■ j

Of reading, in a thousand pages,

105

io6 FAUST,

That care-worn man has, in all ages, Sowed Vanity to reap Despair ? That one, mayhap, has here and there Been less unhappy ?

Hollow Skull, I almost fancy I divine A meaning in thy spectral smile. Saith it not that thy brain, like mine, Still loved, and sought the Beautiful ; Loved Truth for Truth's own sake \ and sought, Regardless of aught else the while. Like- mine, the light of cloudless day — And, in unsatisfying thought By twilight glimmers led astray. Like mine at' length sank over- wrought?

Every thing fails me — every thing — These instruments, do they not all Mock me ? lathe, cylinder, and ring, And cog and wlieel — in vain I call On you for aid, ye keys of Science, I stand before the guarded door Of Nature ; but it bids defiance To latch or ward : in vain I prove ^^our powers — the strong bolts will not move. Mysterious, in the blaze of day. Nature pursues her tranquil v/ay :

FAUST,

The veil she v/ears, if hand profane Should seek to raise, it seeks in vain, Though from her spirit thine receives, When hushed it listens and believes, Secrets — revealed, else vainly sought, Her free gift when man questions not,— Think not with levers or v/ith screws To wring them out if she refuse.

Old Furniture — cumbrous and mean !

It is not, has not ever been

Of use to me — why here ? because

My father's furniture it v/as !

— Old Roll ; and here it still remains,

And soiled with smoke, its very stains

Might count how many a year the light

Hath, from this desk, through the dead night,

Burn'd in its sad lamp, nothing bright !

— 'Twere better did I dissipate.

Long since, my little means, than be

Crushed, down and cumbered with its weight :

All that thy fathers leave to thee,

At once enjoy it — thus alone

Can man make any thing his own ;

A hindrance all that we employ not—

A burden all that we enjoy not.

He knows, who rightly estimates,

107

io8 FAUST,

That what the moment can employ, What it requires and can enjoy, The MOMENT for itself creates.

What can it be, that thither draws The eye, and holds it there, as though The flask a very magnet were ? And whence, oh, whence this lavish glow, This lustre of enchanted light, Pour'd down at once, and every where — Birth of the moment — like the flood Of splendour round us, when at night Breathes moonlight over a wide wood?

Oh phial ! — happy phial ! — here

Hope is, — I greet thee, — I revere

Thee as Art's best result — in Thee

Science and Mind triumphant see, —

Essence of all sweet slumber-dews !

Spirit of all most delicate

Yet deadliest powers ! — be thou my friend-

A true friend — thou wilt not refuse

Thine own old master this ! — I gaze

On thee — the pain subsides — the weight

That pressed me down less heavy Aveighs.

I grasp thee — faithful friend art thou : — ■ Already do I feel the strife

FAUST. 109

That preyed upon my powers of life

Calmed into peace ; and now — and now

The swell, that troubled the clear spring

Of my vext spirit, ebbs away ;

Outspread, like ocean, Life and Day

Shine with a glow of welcoming ; —

Calm at my feet the glorious mirror lies,

And tempts to far-off shores, with smiles from other skies I

And, lo ! a car of fire to me GHdes softly hither ; from within Come winged impulses, to bear The child of earth to freer air : Already do I seem to win My happy course, from bondage free, On paths unknown, to climes unknown, Glad spheres of pure activity ! Powers yet unfelt — worlds yet untrod-— And life, poured every where abroad, And rapture worthy of a God ! — Worm that thou art, and can it be Such joy is thine, is given to thee ? Determine only, — 'tis thy own ; Say thy firm farewell to the sun. The kindly sun — its smiling earth — One moment, one,— and all is done, — One pang — then comes the second birth !

no FAUST,

— Find life where others fear to die ; Take measure of thy strength, and burst — Burst wide the gate of Hberty ; — Show, by man's acts man's spirit durst Meet God's own eye, and wax not dim ; Stand fearless, face to face with Him !

Shudder not now at that blank cave Where, in self-torturing disease. Pale Fancy hears sad Spirits rave. And is herself the hell she sees. — Press through the strait, where stands Despair Guarding it, and the fiery wave Boils up, — and know no terror there ! Determine ;— be of happy cheer In this high hour — be thy advance The proud step of a triumph-day ; — Be firm, and cast away all fear ; — And freely^ — if such be the chance — Flow into nothingness away !

And thou, clear crystal goblet, welcome thou ! Old friend and faithful, from thy antique case Come forth with gay smile now, As gently I displace

The time-stain'd velvet ; years unnumbered, Forgotten hast thou slumbered ; Once bright at many a festival, When, in the old man's liall,

FAUST, II J

Old friends were gathered all,

And thou with mirth didst light grave features up,

On days of high festivity,

And family solemnity,

As each to each passed on the happy cup ;

Its massy pride, the figures rich and old,

Of curious carving, and the merry task

Of each (thus did our pleasant customs ask)

Who drank, the quaint old symbols to unfold,

In rhymes made at the moment ; then the mask

Of serious seeming^ as at one long draught

Each guest the full deep goblet duly quaffed ;

The old cup, the old customs, the old rhymes,

All now are with me : all, that of old times

Can speak, are speaking to my heart ] the nights

Of boyhood, and their manifold dehghts ;

Oh ! never more to gay friend sitting next

Shall my hand reach thee ; never more from me

Shall merry rhyme illustrate the old text.

And into meaning read each mystery ;

This is a draught that, if the brain still think,

Will set it thinking in another mood ;

Old cup, now fill thee with the dark brov/n flood ;

It is my choice ; I mixed it, and will drink :

My last draught this on earth I dedicate,

(And with it be my heart and spirit borne !)

A festal offering to the rising morn.

\^IIe places the goblet to his vtoitth

H2 FAUST.

Bells heard^ and voices i?i chorw:,

Easter Hymn.— C/^^z-z/j ^Angels.

Christ is from the grave arisen, Joy is His. For Him the weary Earth hath ceased its thraldom dreary, And the cares that prey on mortals : He hath burst the grave's stern portals ;

The grave is no prison :

The Lord hath arisen !

Faust. Oh, those deep sounds, those voices rich and heavenly ! How powerfully they sway the soul, and force The cup uplifted from the eager lips ! Proud bells, and do your peals already ring, To greet the joyous dawn of Easter-morn ? And ye, rejoicing choristers, already Flows forth your solemn song of consolation ? That song, which once, from angel lips resounding Around the midnight of the grave, was heard, The pledge and proof of a new covenant !

Hymn continiied. — Chorus of Women*

We laid Him for burial

'Mong aloes and myrrh ; His children and friends

Laid their dead Master here I

F/IUST, 11 z

Ail wrapt in His grave-dresS;

We left Him in fear — Ah ! where shall we seek Him ?

The Lord is not here !

Chorus ^Angels.

The Lord hath arisen,

Sorrow no longer ; Temptation hath tried Him,

But He was the stronger. Happy, happy victory !

Love, submission, self-denial Marked the strengthening agony,

Marked the purifying trial ; The grave is no prison : The Lord hath arisen.

Faiist. Soft sounds, that breathe of Heaven, most mild, most powerful, What seek ye here ? — Why will ye come to me In dusty gloom immersed ?— Oh ! rather speak To hearts of soft and. penetrable mould ! I hear your message, but I have not faith — And Miracle is fond Faith's favourite child ! I cannot force myself into the spheres, Where these good tidings of great joy are heard; And yet, from youth familiar with the sounds.

114 FAUST,

Even now they call me back again to life ;

Oh ! once, in boyhood's happy time, Heaven's love

Showered down upon me, with mysterious kiss

Hallowipg the stillness of the Sabbath-day !

Feelings resistless, incommunicable,

Yearnings for something that I knew not of.

Deep meanings in the full tones of the bells

Mingled — a prayer was burning ecstasy —

Drove me, a wanderer through lone fields and woods;

Then tears rushed hot! and fast — then was the birth

Of a new life and a new world for me ;

These bells announced the merry sports of youth,

This music welcomed in the happy spring ;

And now am I once more a little child,

And old Remembrance, twining round my heart,

Forbids this act, and checks my daring steps —

Then sing ye on — sweet songs that are of Heaven !

Tears come, and Earth hath won her child again.

Hymn continued. — Chorus ^Disciples.

He, who was buried,

Hath burst from the grave !

From death re-assuming The life that He gave,

Is risen in glory, Is mighty to save !

FAUST.

And onward — still onward

Arising, ascend ing^ To the right hand of Power

And Joy never-ending.

Enthroned in brightness, His labours are over ;

On earth His disciples Still struggle and suffer !

His children deserted Disconsolate languish—

Thou art gone, and to glory- Hast left us in anguish !

Chorus of Angels.

Christ is arisen,

The Lord hath ascended ^ The dominion of death

And corruption is ended.

Your work of obedience Haste to begin ;

Break from the bondage Of Satan and Sin.

In your lives his laws obey Let love your governed bosoms sway- Blessings to the poor convey,

ii6 FAUST.

To God with humble spirit pray, To Man His benefits display : Act thus, and He, your Master dear, Though unseen, is ever near 1

BEFORE THE GATE.

Perso7is of all descriptions strolling out

A Party of Tradesmen. What are you going for in thi-.t direction ?

Second Party. We are going to the Jagerhaus.

First Party. And we

Are strolling down to the Mill.

A Tradesman. I would advise you

Rather to take a walk to the Wasserhof.

A Second. The road to it is not a pleasant one.

Second Party. What are you for ?

A Third, I go with the other party.

A Fourth, Take my advice, and let us come to Burgdorf : There, any way, we shall be sure of finding The prettiest girls, and the brownest beer. And lots of rows in the primest style.

A Fifth. What, boy,

Art at it still ? two drubbings, one would think, Might satisfy a reasonable man. I won't go there with you — I hate the place !

Servant ATaid. No ! no ! — not I — I'll go back to the town

FAUST. 117

Another. We'll find him surely waiting at the poplars.

The First. Great good is that to me, — he'll give his arm To you — and dance with you — and wliy should I go For nothing in the world but your amusement ?

The Second. To-day he'll certainly not be alone, His curly-headed friend will be with him.

Student. Look there— look there — how well those girls step out — Come, brother, come let's keep them company. Stiff beer^ biting tobacco, and a girl In her smart dress, are the best things I know.

Citizen^ s Daiigh. Only look there — what pretty fellows these are I 'Tis quite a shame, when they might have the best Of company, to see them running after A pair of vulgar minxes — servant girls.

Second Stii. \to the first\ Stay, easy — here are two fine girls behind us, Showily dressed. I know one of them well — And, I may say, am half in love with her. Innocent things ! with what a modest gait And shy step they affect to pace ; and yet, For all their bashfulness, they'll take us with them.

First Stii. Join them, yourseh — not I — I hate restraint. Let us not lose time with them, or the game escapes, Give me the girl that gives a man no trouble,

ii8 FAUST.

That on the week-days does her week-day work, And, the day after, work that she loves better.

Citizen. Well, I do not like this new burgomaster. Not a day passes but he grows more insolent, Forsooth 1 presuming on his dignity. And what good is he to us after all ? The town is growing worse from day to day, They are more strict upon us now than ever, And raise continually the rates and taxes. Beggar \si?igs\

Masters good, and ladies bnght^

Rosy-cheeked., and richly dressed^ Look upon a wretched sight,

And relieve the poor distressed: Let me not in vain implore !

Fity me I — with chime and voice Would I cheer you — let the poor

When all else are glad, rejoice ! L must beg, J or I must live.

Help me I blessed they who give I When all other men ai'e gay Is the beggar's harvest day. Second Cit. Well ! give me, on a saint's day, or a Sunday, When we have time for it, a tale of war And warlike doings far away in Turkey — How they are busy killing one another. 'Tis pleasant to stand gazing from the window,

FAUST. 119

Draining your glass at times, and looking on The painted barges calmly gliding down The easy river. Then the homeward walk In the cool evening hour ; tliis makes the heart •Glad, and at peace with all things and itself. Yes ! give me peace at home, and peaceful times !

Third Cit. Ay, so say I — break every head abroad — Turn all things topsy-turvy, so they leave us Quiet at home.

Old Woman \io the Citizen's Daughters]. Ha ! but you are nicely dressed, And very pretty creatures— you'll win hearts To-day — ay, that you will — only don't look So very proud — yes ! that is something better — I know ^vhat my young pets are wishing for, And thinking of, and they shall have it too !

Citizen's Dan. Come, Agatha, come on — I'd not be seen With the old witch in public ; yet she showed me, On last St. Andrew's night, in flesh and blood, My future lover.

The Other. In the glass she showed Me mine. The figure was a soldier's, and With him a band of gay bold fellows. Since, I have been looking round, and seeking for him. But all in vain — 'tis folly — he woii't come.

Soldier. Toivns with turrets^ avails, arid fences^

I20 FAUST.

Maidens with their haughty glances. These the soldiei' seeks with ardour, Say to conquer ivJiicJi is harder? Death and danger he despises, When he looks upon the prizes. Danger is the soldier's duty, And his prize is fame and beauty. •

Rush we, at the truiupefs measure, With blithe hearts to death and pleasure ;

How the soldier's blood is warming When we think of cities storming !

Fortress strong, and maiden te?ider,

Must alike to us surrender.

Danger is the soldier's duty,

But his prize is fame and beauty.

Faust. River and rivulet are freed from ice In Spring's affectionate inspiring smile — Green are the fields with promise — far away To the rough hills old Winter hath withdrawn Strengthless — but still at intervals will send Light feeble frosts, with drops of diamond wliitc Mocking a little while the coming bloom— Still soils with showers of sharp and bitter sleet. In anger impotent, the earth's green robe; But the sun suffers not the lingering snow — Every where life — every where vegetation

FAUST. 121

All nature animate with glowing hues —

Or, if one spot be touched not by the spirit

Of the sweet season, there, in colours rich .

As trees or flowers, are sparkling human dresses !

Turn round, and from this height look back upon

The town : from its black dungeon gate forth pours,

In thousand parties, the gay multitude.

All happy, all indulging in the sunshine !

All celebrating the Lord's resurrection,

And in themselves exhibiting as 'twere

A resurrection too— so changed are they,

So raised above themselves. From chambers damp

Of poor mean houses — from consuming toil

Laborious — from the work-yard and the shop—

From the imprisonment of walls and roofs,

And the oppression of confining streets,

And from the solemn twilight of dim churches —

All are abroad — all happy in the sun.

Look, only look, with gaiety how acdve.

Through fields and gardens they disperse themselves !

How the wide water, far as we can see.

Is joyous with innumerable boats !

See, there, one almost sinking with its load,

Parts from the shore ; yonder the hill-top paths

Are sparkling in the distance with gay dresses !

And, hark! the sounds of joy from the far village!

This is the people's very heaven on earth I

122 FAUST,

The high, the low, in pleasure all uniting — Here may I feel that I too am a man !

Wag. Doctor, 'to steal about with you. 'tis plain Is creditable, brings its own great gain. But otherwise, I'd never throw away My time in such a place. I so detest Everything vulgar — hear them ! how they play Their creaking fiddles — hark the kettle-drums ; And their damned screaming to the ear that comes Worse, if 'twere possible, than all the rest. They rave like very devils let loose on earth— This they call singing ! — this, they say, is mirth !

Peasants, \dancing and suiging?^ The sheplierd for the dance is drest In ribands, wreath, and flashy vest ; Round and round like mad they spin To the fiddle's lively din. All are dancing full of glee, All beneath the linden tree.

'Tis merry and merry — heigh-hO; heigh-ho, Blithe goes the fiddle-bow !

Soon he runs to join the rest ; Up to a pretty girl he prest ; With elbow raised and pointed toe, Bent to her with his best bow — Pressed her hand : with feigned surprise,

FAUST. 12;

Up she raised her timid eyes !

"'Tis strange that you should use me so,

So, so — heigh-ho —

'Tis rude of you to use me so." :

All into the set advance,

Right they dance, and left they dance —

Gowns and ribands how they fling,

Flying with the flying ring ;

They grew red, and faint, and warm,

And rested, sinking, arm in arm.

Slow, slow, heigh-ho,

Tired in elbow, foot, and toe !

" And do not make so free," she said ; " I fear that you may never wed ; Men are cruel " — and he prest The maiden to his beating breast. Hark ! again, the sounds of glee Swelling from the linden tree,

'Tis merry, 'tis merry — heigh-ho, heigh-ho,

BHthe goes the iiddle-bow ! Old Peas. This, doctor, is so kind of you, A man of rank and learning too ; Who, but yourself, would condescend Thus with the poor, the poor man's friend,

124

FA UST.

To join our sports ? In this brown cheer

Accept the pledge we tender here,

A draught of Hfe may it become

And years on years, oh ! may you reach,

As cheerful as these beads of foam,

As countless, too, a year for each !

Faust. Blest be the draught restorative ! I pledge you — happy may you live !

\TJie people collect in a circle roimd him.

Old Peas. Yes ! witness thou the poor man's glee, And share in his festivity : In this hath fortune fairly dealt With him who, in the evil day Of the black sickness, with us dwelt, When Plague was numbering his prey — In strength and health how many gather To this day's pastimes, whom thy father Rescued from death in that last stage, When the disease, tired out at length Is followed by the fever's rage, And prostrate sinks the vital strength ; And you^ too, in that time of dread And death, a young man, visited Each house of sickness : — evermore, Day after day, tlie black hearse bore Corse after corse — still, day by day, The good man held his fearless way •

FAUST, 125

Unscathed; for God 3. blessing gave, And saved the man who sought to save.

All. For thee, tried friend, our prayers we raise, And, when we wish thee length of days, 'Tis for himself that each man prays.

Faust. In thanks to the great Father bend, We are but servants to extend Blessings, that flow from man's one Friend.

\Goes on with Wagner.

Wag. With what a sense of pure delight, Master, must thou enjoy the sight Of this vast crowd, and the unchecked Expression of their deep respect ! Oh, happy he, who thus to Heaven Can render back the talents given ! The pious father points thee out To his young folk— they gaze, and ask, And gaze again — and crowd about. The blithe musician in his task Pauses — the dancers turn to thee. And gather into rows to see The man they honour passing by— And then the gratulating shout — And then the caps flung up on high : They almost worship thee — almost Would bend the knee as to the Host.

Faust. To yonder rock is but a few steps on —

126 FAUST.

After our long walk we may rest us there.

Here oft I've sate to muse ; here all alone By vigil, fast, and agonies of prayer — In Hope then rich, in Faith unwavering. With tears and sighs, here was I wont to pray, — And supplicating hands, as though to wring From Him in heaven that He the plague would stay. To me the praise I hear is mockery. Oh ! that you could into my bosom gaze, Read written there how little worthy we, Father or son, of these poor people's praise. My father, a reserved and moody man On Nature's holy circles still would pore, With honest ardour, after some strange plan That pleased his fancy, toiling evermore. And he would shut himself in secret cell, One or two adepts always at his side. Quaint recipes with fire and crucible, In tliis dark kitchen evermore he tried. Watching for the great moment's birth that might Antagonistic elements unite. There in the gentle bath a Lion Red, Bold wooer he — was to the Lily wed ; And both were, while the furnace fire raged bright ; Hurried in torture on from bed to bed. If in the glass was given us to behold

FAUST. 127

The YouDg Queen rise in colours manifold, Here was the medicine — the patients died. None asked " Who took it and remained alive ?" — Thus in these mountains — in these valleys wide, Our cure was than the plague a plague more fierce. To thousands have I given the poison — they Have withered — they are dead — and I survive To hear praise lavished on their murderers.

Wag. How can this be so painful? What can men Do more than in their practice still obey The precepts of the science of their day ? What you have from your father heard was then Heard in the docile spirit of belief. You in your day extend the limit-line Of science 5 in due time your son will tajkc His place—and for himself discoveries make Greater than thine, perhaps — yet but for thine Impossible. If so then, why this grief .^

Faust. Happy who still hath hope to rise above This sea of error; strange that we in vain Seek knowledge each day needs : the knowledge of What never can avail us we attain. But with such musings let us sadden not This sweet hour ! see, where, in the sunset, gleam The village huts with green trees smiling round Each cottage in its own small garden plot. But the Sun sinks— day dies, and it would seem

128 FAUST.

With day the Sun. But still doth he survive, Still speeds he on with life-diffusing beam — Oh, that no wing uplifts me from the ground, Nearer and nearer after him to strive ! Then should I the reposing world behold Still in this everlasting evening glow. The hill-tops kindling all — the vales at rest — The silver brooklet in its silent flow To where the yellow splendour of the West On the far river lies in trembling gold. In vain the rugged mountain rears his breast, AVith darkening cliff and cave to bar my way, Onward in heaven, still onward is my flight, And now wide ocean, with each fervid bay, In sudden brightness breaks upon my sight, Till sinking seems at last the god of day. Then the new instinct wakens, and I breathe Heaven still — still drink of his undying light. Before me day — behind m.e is the night- Above me heaven — ^and the wide wave beneath, A glorious dream — illusion brief and bright — For while I yet am dreaming he is gone. Alas ! from its captivity of earth, The body hath no wing whereon to rise, And with the winged spirit voyage on : And yet will every one of hum.an birth The feelinf![ in our nature recognize,

FAUST, 129

That for a moment with a sense of wings Uplifts us, bears us onward and away, When high above, in blue space lost, his lay Thrilling the skylark sings. When over piny headlands, savage steeps, Outspread the eagle' sweeps. And over moorlands, over main, Homeward, homeward strives the crane.

Wag. I, too, of reverie oft have had my moods, But impulse such as this they never bring. The eye soon has enough of fields and woods ; I never had a wish for a bird's wing — Far other are the thinking man's delights. From book to book, from leaf to leaf they lead, And bright and cheerful are his winter nights. Life, happy life, warms every limb — Unroll, At such charmed hour, some precious parchment scroll. All heaven descends upon you as you read.

Faust. You feel but the one impulse now — oh learn Never to know the other ! in my breast Alas ! two souls dwell — all there is unrest ; Each with the other strives for mastery, Each from the other struggles to be free. One to the fleshly joys the coarse earth yields, With clumsy tendrils clings, and one would rise In native pov/er and vindicate the fields. Its own by birthright — its ancestral skies.

T30 FAUST.

Oh ! if indeed Spirits be in the air,

Moving 'twixt heaven and earth with lordly wings,

Come from your golden ''incense-breathing" sphere.

Waft me to new and varied life away.

Oh ! had I but a magic cloak to bear

At will to far off lands the wanderer,

How little would I prize the rich array •

Of princes, and the purple pomp of kings !

Wag, Call not the v;ell-known army. Of dusk air, A living stream, the middle space they fill, And danger manifold for man prepare, For ever active in the work of ill. From all sides pour they on us — from the north, With piercing fangs, with arrow-pointed tongues, And from the sunrise region speed they forth, In the dry wind to feast upon the lungs. If from the desolate parched wilderness The midday send them out with fervid glow, To heap fresh fire upon the burning brain, A cloudy vapour from the west they flow. Descend in what would seem refreshing rain, Then in fierce torrents down on thee they press, And deluge garden, meadow-field, and plain. Ready for evil with delight they hear, They lurk and listen — gladly they obey Man's invitation — gladly they betray Such summoner — in mischief they rejoice,

FAUST. 131

Ambassadors from heaven itself appear, And utter falsehoods with an angel's voice. But let's away — the air grows chill — the dew Is falling — and the dusk of night has come. Towards night we first have the true feel of home. What keeps you standing there ? — Why that intent Stare — why that look of such astonishment ? What do you see that fastens thus on you ?

Faust. Do you see that black dog, where through the green blades Of the soft springing corn, and the old stubble, He runs, just glancing by them for a moment?

Wag. I've seen him this while past, but thought not of him As any way strange.

Faust. Look at him carefully,

What do you take the brute to be ?

Wag. Why, nothing

But a poor fool of a poodle, puzzling out His master's track whom I suppose he has lost.

Faust. Do you observe how in wide serpent circles He courses round us ? nearer and yet nearer Each turn,— and if my eyes do not deceive me, Sparkles of lire whirl where his foot hath touched.

Wag. I can see nothing more than a black dog ; It may be some deception of your eyeSo

Faust. Methinks he draws light magic threads around us, Hereafter to entangle and ensnare I

E2

132

FAUST]

Wag. In doubt and fear the poodle's leaping round us, Seeing two strangers in his master's stead.

Faust. The circle, see, how much more narrow 'tis, — He's very near us !

Wag. 'Tis a dog, you see,

And not a spirit ; see, he snarls at strangers, Shies, lies upon his belly, wags his tail, As all dogs do.

Faust, We'll bring him home with us. —

Come, pretty fellow !

Wag. He's a merry dog,—

If you stand, he stands up and waits for you, — Speak to him, and he straight leaps up upon you, — Leave something after you, no doubt he'll bring it, Or plunge into the water for your stick.

Faust. You're right. I see no traces of the Spirit In him —

Wag. A dog, well tutored, learns the art To win upon a good man's heart ; — Wise men grow fond of them — and see, Our friend already follows thee — Soon shall we see the happy creature, Prime favourite, round the doctor skip : '

With every student for his teacher, How can we doubt his scholarship ?

\They enter the town gate

FAUST, 133

Scene. — Faust's Study.

E?iter Faust, with the Dog.

Faust. The fields we roamed through with delight, Are hidden now in the deep night ; Within us felt the thrilling hour, Awakes man's better soul to power : Hushed the desires of the wild will, And action's stormy breath is still — Love stirs around us and abroad. The love of Man, the love of God.

Rest, poodle, rest — lie down in quiet ! Why runs he up and down the floor ? What can it be he looks so shy at, Smelling and snuffling at the door ? Pleasant wert thou in our mountain ramble, Didst make us merry with trick and gambol, Go to sleep on the cushion — a soft snug nest — Take thy ease, in thine inn, like a welcome guest

When in our narrow cell each night, The lone lamp sheds its friendly light, Then from the bosom doubt and fear Pass off Hke clouds, and leave it clear — Then reason re-assumes her reign.

And hope begins to bloom again, - ■

And in the hush of outward strife,

134 FAUST.

We seem to hear the streams of life, And seek, alas ! — in vain essay — Its hidden fountain far away.

Cease dog, to growl ! the beastly howl of the hound But ill accords with the pure breathing of Heaven — with the holy tones — all peace and love That to the heart unbidden way have found. With men 'tis common to contemn, Whatever is too good, too fair. Too high to be conceived by them, And is't that like those wretched carles, This dog, at what he understands not, snarls ?

These withering thoughts, do what I will, They come — the fountain of the heart is chilL — How oft have I experienced change like this ! Yet is it not unblest in the event ; For, seeking to supply the natural dearth, We learn to prize things loftier than the earth. And the heart seeks support and light from heaven. And such support and light — oh^ is it given Any where but in the New Testament?" Strong impulse sways me now to look to the text On which all rests, and honestly translate The holy original into mine own Dear native tongue,

\lle opens a volume and prepares to write.

FAUST. r35

— 'Tfs written — " In the Beginning was the Word." — -

Already at a stand — and how proceed ?

Who helps me ? Is the Word to have such vahie,

Impossible — if by the spirit guided.

Once more — " In the Beginning was the Thought."—

Consider the first line attentively,

Lest hurrying on the pen outrun the meaning.

Is it Thought that works in all, and that makes all ?

— It should stand rather thus — " In the Beginning

Was the Power." — yet even as I am writing this

A something warns me we cannot rest there.

The Spirit aids me — all is clear — and boldly

I write, In the Beginning was the Act.

— Cease, teasing dog, this angry howl, These moans dissatisfied and dull, — Down, dog, or I must be rougher. Noise like this I cannot suffer, — • One of us must leave the closet, if You still keep growling — that is positive ; To use a guest so is not pleasant. But none could bear this whine incessant ! But can what I see be real, Or is all some trick ideal ? Tis surely something more than nature, — Form is changed, and size, and stature, Larger, loftier, erecter,

136 FAUST.

This seeming dog must be a spectre ;—

With fiery eyes, jaws grinding thus,

Like an hippopotamus,

— And here to bring this whelp of hell,

Oh, at last, I know thee well,

For such half-devilish, hellish spawn,

Nought's like the key of Solomon.

Spirits without. One is in prison : Listen to reason : Venture not on : Where he hath gone Follow him none : Watch we all ! watch we well ! The old lynx of hell Has fallen in the snare, Is trapped unaware, Like a fox in the gin ; He is in : he is in : Stay we without, Sweep we about. Backward and forward. Southward and norward, Our colleague assisting, His fetters untwisting, Lightening their pressure By mystical measure ;

FAUST. 137

At our motions and voices, Our brother rejoices, For us hath he offered^ His safety, and suffered ; We are his debtors. Let's loosen his fetters. Faust. To conquer him must I rehearse,

First that deep mysterious verse,

Which each elemental spirit.

Of the orders four, who hear it.

Trembling, will confess and fear it.

Scorching Salamander, burn, Nymph of Water, twist and turn, Vanish, Sylph, to thy far home, Labour vex thee, drudging Gnoime.

He is but a sorry scholar, To whom each elemental ruler, Their acts and attributes essential, And their influence potential, And their sympathies auxiliar, Are not matters quite familiar; Little knows he, little merits A dominion over Spirits.

Fiery Salamander, wither In the red flame's fiery glow !

138 FAUST.

Rushing, as waves rush together, Water-nymph, in water flow ! Gleamy Sylph of Air, glance, fleeter. And more bright, than midnight meteor ! Slave of homely drudgery, Lubber Incubus, flee, flee To the task that waits for thee ! Spirit, that within the beast Art imprisoned, be releast ! Kingly sway hath Solomon Over subject spirits won ; — Forth ! — obey the spell and seal Elemental natures feel !

By Spirits of a difl"erent kind. Is the brute possessed, I find ; Grinning he lies, and mocks the charm That has no power to work him harm.

Spectre ! by a stronger spell Thy obedience I compel —

If thou be a serf of Satan,

A follower of the fallen great one,

Deserter from hell,

i I conjure and charm thee,

\ By the sign and the speU,

To which bows the black army.

See how he swells— how the hair bristles there !

FAUST, 139

Outcast creature, see the sign Of the Human and Divine. Bow before the Uncreated, Whom the world has seen and hated : Canst thou read Him ? Canst thou see ? Dread to hear me name His name, Through all Heaven diffused is He, Died on earth a death of shame.

Ha ! with terror undissembled,

Methinks the brute at last has trembled ;

As behind the stove he Hes,

See him swell and see him pant ;

And his bristles how they rise

As he rouses, — and his size

Large as is the elephant —

Larger yet the room he crowds,—

He will vanish in the clouds.

— Spare the roof in thy retreat,

Lie down at the master's feet.

Thou shalt feel the scorching glow

(Mine is not an idle threat)

Of the heat divine — shalt know

Pangs of fiercer torment yet.

— Still resisting ? — Tarry not

For the three-times glowing light,

Blaze beyond endurance bright —

I40 FAUST,

Reluctantly must I at length Speak the spell of greatest strength.

[Mephistopheles comes forward^ as the mist sinks, in the dress of a travelling scholar, from behind tht stove.

Meph. Why all this uproar ? is there any thing In my poor power to serve you ?

Faust. This then was

The poodle's kernel — travelling scholar — psha ! — A most strange case of the kind — I cannot but Laugh when I think of it.

Meph. Most learned master,

Your humble servant — you've been broiling me After a pretty fashion — sweated me To the very vengeance. I'm in a fine stew.

Famt. Your name ?

Meph. A frivolous enquiry this from you — From one who rates the word so low ? AVlio, disregarding outward show, ^

Would look into the essence of the being —

Faust. With you oftentimes the name And essence is, I trow, the same, The name and nature of the being All one — in nothing disagreeing. Thus, one is called the god of flies — One the Seducer — one the Liar. Now, good, my friend, may I enquire Your name ?

FAUST. 141

Meph. Part of the power that would Still do evil — still does good.

Faust. What may this riddle mean ?

Meph. I am the spirit that evermore denies, And rightly so — for all that doth arise Deserves to perish — this, distinctly seeing — No ! say I, No ! to everything that tries To bubble into being. My proper element is what you name Sin, Dissolution, — in a word, the Bad.

Faust. You call yourself

A part^ yet stand before me whole.

Meph. I speak

The truth— the modest truth — though Man may call — Poor fool-world Man— in his aspirings high, Himself a Whole — the Whole — I am not — I Am part of a part which part at the first was All, Part of the Darkness that gave birth to Light ; Proud Light that now would from her rank displace Maternal Night — and wars with her for space, Yet is no gainer — for, strive as it will. Light clings — imprisoned slave — to Bodies still. It streams from Bodies — it makes Bodies bright — * A body intercepts it in its course ; This gives the hope that Light may too perforce When Bodies perish be extinguished quite.

Faust. A creditable line of business this;

142 FA UST.

Your Nothing nothing has unmade, I wis The great projector sees his projects fail, And would do business on a smaller scale,

Meph. And even in this way Httle do I gain, Against this Nothing the coarse Somewhat will Obtrude. The rude World contradicts me still. The clumsy lump of jfilth in proud resistance Asserting undeniable existence, I have been pounding at it all in vain. I have tried deluge, tempest, thunder, and Lightnings — at rest you see it still remain Inviolate — the self-same sea and land. On the damned stuff,— rank spawn of man and beast, I can make no impression— not the least. What crowds on crowds I've buried — little good — ■ It but sets circulating fresh young blood. On they go — on, replenishing, renewing, It drives me mad to see the work that's doing. From water, air, earth, germs of life unfold, '

Thousands in dry and damp, in warm and cold — Flame still is mine — I've kept that — Flame alone, Else were there nothing specially my own.

Fmist. Is it thou ? — thou standing there ? — thou to resist The healthful energy, the animation, The force that moves and moulds, and is creation — In vain spite clenching that cold devil's fist ? Strange son of Chaos this may well move laughter.

FAUST. 143

Meph. Well — this point we may talk about hereafter — But now, with your permission, I would go.

Faust. That you can, whether I permit or no, *Why ask me ? Now that you have found your way,

I hope to see you often here. Good day !

This is the window — that the door — and yonder The chimney. Why thus stare about and ponder ?

MepJu I. am not free : a little obstacle, I did not see, confines me to your cell,— The druid foot upon the threshold traced.

Faust. The pentagram ? — is it not to your taste ? But, son of hell, if this indeed be so, How came you in, I should be glad to know, — ■ How was it, that the charm no earlier wrought ?

Meph. The lines were not as perfect as they ought : The outer angle's incomplete.

Faust. Well — ^twas a pleasant evening's feat— A most unlooked-for accident — Strange prize, and yet more strangely sent.

Meph. The dog, without perceiving it, Leaped in — the devil has somehow Seen it — is in the house — and nov/ Can find no way of leaving it.

Faust. Why not the window ?

Meph. Why ?— because

It is enacted in the laws Which binds us devils and phantoms, '• that

144 FAUSTo

Whatever point we enter at, We at the same return:" — thus we In our first choice are ever free ; — Choose, and the right of choice is o'er, We, who were free, are free no more.

Faust. Hell has its codes of law then — well, I will think better now of hell. If laws be binding and obeyed, Then compacts with you may be made.

Aleph. Made and fulfilled, too — nowhere better — We keep our compacts to the letter ; But points of law like this require Some time and thought — are apt to tire, And I am hurried — we may treat On them at leisure when we meet Again — but now I ask permission To go.

Faust One moment — I am wishing

To question further one who brings Good news, and tells such pleasant things.

Meph. Let me go now — I come again, You may ask any question then.

Faust. Ay, old fox, ay, come catch me there — I laid no net — I set no snare, And if you walked into tlie trap — 'Twas your own act, and my good hap ; Luck like this can hardly last — Catch the devil and keep him fast —

FAUST, 145

Part with a prize, on which none could have reckoned ! The first chance gone, pray who will give a second?

Meph. If you insist on it — I stay ; And just to while the hours away, I would amuse you, as I may ; For I have pleasant arts and power, With shows to while the passing hour.

Faust. If it be pleasant, try your art — As audience I will play my part.

Meph. In one hour shall more intense Pleasure flow on every sense, Than the weary year could give. In such life as here you live — The songs soft spirits sing to thee, The images they bring to thee, Are no empty exhibition Of the skill of a magician ; Pictures fair and music's tone, Speak to eye and ear alone ; But odours sweet around thee sporting, Lingering tastes thy palate courting, Feelings gratified, enraptured. All thy senses shall be captured. Preparation need not we — Spirits, begin your melody.

Spirits \sin^. Vanish, dark arches, ' That over us bend, Let the blue sky in beauty

146 FAUST.

Look in like a friend. Oh , that the black clouds

Asunder were riven, That the small stars were brightenim

All through the wide heaven ! And look at them smiling

And sparkling in splendour, Suns, but with glory

More placid and tender ; Children of heaven,

In spiritual beauty.

Descending, and bending

With billowy motion,

Downward are thronging, Willing devotion

Flowing to meet them, Loving hearts longing,

Sighing to greet them. O'er field and o'er flower,

On bank and in bower. The folds of their bright robes

In breezy air streaming. Where loving ones living

In love's thoughtful dreaming, Their fond hearts are giving

For ever away.

FAUST. 1 47

Bower on bovver,

Tendril and flower ; ./

Clustering grapes,

The vine's purple treasure, Have fallen in the v/ine-vat, And bleed in its pressure — Foaming and steaming, the new wine is streaming, Over agate and amethyst, Rolls from its fountain, Leaving behind it

Meadow and mountain, And the hill-slopes smile greener, far down where it

breaks Into billowy streamlets, or lingers in lakes. And the winged throng, drinking deep of delight From the rivers of joy, are pursuing their flight. Onward and onward, Wings steering sun- ward, Where the bright islands, with magical motion^ Stir with the waves of the stirring ocean. Where we hear 'em shout in chorus, Or see 'em dance on lawns before us, As over land or over waters Chance the idle parties scatters; Some upon the far hills gleaming, Some along the bright lakes streaming, Some their forms in air suspending,

148 FAUST.

Float in circles never-ending. The one spirit of enjoyment, Aim, and impulse, and employment ; All would breathe in the far distance Life, free life of full existence With the gracious stars above them, Smiling down to say they love them. Meph. He sleeps, — thanks to my little favourites- Why ye have fairly sung away his wits, And so he thought the devil to catch and keep ! — Well, well, I am a concert in your debt — Still cloud with dreams his unsuspecting sleep, Antic and wild ! — still in illusion steep His fancy ! — hover round and round him yet, Haply dreaming, that I am Prisoner of the pentagram ! — Tooth of rat N . . gets rid of that . . . Gnawing, sawing, bit by bit, Till there be no trace of it ; — Little need of conjuring, Rats to such a place to bring ; One is rustling in the wall. He will hear my whispered call —

The master of the Mice and Rats, Flies and Frogs, and Bugs and Bats, Sends his summons to appear ; —

FAUST. 149

Forth ! and gnaw the threshold here ; —

He hath spilt the fragrant oil,

Till it vanish tooth must toil : —

— Sir Rat hath heard me — see him run

To the task that soon is done \

Yonder angle 'tis, confines

Your master — gnaw the meeting-lines : —

Now the corner, near the door,

All is done in one bite more.

The prisoner and the pentagram are gone, Dream, Faust, until we meet again, dream on !

Faust, [awaking]. Am I again deceived? — and must I deem These gorgeous images, but phantoms shaped In the delusion of a lying dream ? And so there was no devil at all, 'twould seem--' And it was but a poodle that escaped !

Faust's Sftidy. Faust, Mephistopheles.

Faust. A knock ! — Come in — who now comes to torment me?

Meph. 'Tis I.

Faiist. Come in.

Meph. You must command me thrice.

Faust. Come in, then.

I50 FAUST.

Meph. That will do— I'm satisfied— We soon shall be the best friends in the world. \_Enters, From your mind to scatter wholly The mists of peevish melancholy. Hither come I now, and bear Of a young lord the noble air, And mask me in his character ; My dress is splendid, you behold, Blazing with the ruddy gold, With my stiff silken mantle's pride. And the long sword hanging by my side, And o'er my cap the cock's proud feather — > I'm a fine fellow altogether. And now, my friend, without delay, Equip yourself in like array. That, light and free, you thus may see Life's many pleasures what they be !

Fmist. In every dress alike I can but feel Life the same torture, earth the self-same prison ; For your light pleasures I am all too old, Too young to have the sting of passion dead, The world — what can it give ? " Refrain, refrain !" This is the everlasting song— the chime Perpetually jingling in all ears. And with hoarse accents every hour repeats it. Each morn, with a dull sense of something dreadful^ I wake, and from my bitter heart could weep To see another day, which^ in its course,

FAUST. 151

Will not fulfil one wish of mine — not one !

I The teasing crowd of small anxieties,

That each day brings, have frittered into dust

All joy, until the very hope of joy

Is something, that the heart has ceased to feel ; —

And life's poor masquerade — vapid and wayward,

And worthless as it is — breaks in upon.

And dissipates, the world, which for itself

The lonely man's imagination builds ;

' — And, when the night is come, with heavy heart

Must I lie down upon my bed, where rest

Is never granted me, where wild dreams come,

Hideous and scaring. The in-dwelling spirit.

Whose temple is my heart, who rules its powers,

Can stir the bosom to its lowest depths.

But has no power to move external nature ;

And therefore is existence burdensome.

And death desirable, and life detested.

Meph. Yet Death's a guest not altogether welcome.

Faust. Oh, happy he for whom, in victory's hour Of splendour, Death around his temples binds The laurel dyed with blood, and happy he, Whom, after the fast whirl of the mad dance. Death in his true love's arms reposing finds. Would that I too had, in such rapturous trance, My individual being lost in his Dissolved before that lofty Spirit's might, Past, soul and sense absorbed, away for ever \

152 FAUST.

Meph. And yet that night I've seen a certain man Forbear to taste a certain dark brown liquid !

Faust. A spy too — peering — prying — is it not so ?

Meph. I know not all, but many things I know.

Faust. And if from harrowing thoughts the rich old chaunt Did win me ; and the old remembered words, And the old music, like a spell recalling Faded remembrances ;— if in the trance All that remained of my boy's heart was captive To the charmed echo of more happy days — Know I not — feel I not it was illusion ? We are but what the senses make of us, And this and all illusion do I curse, All that beguiles us, man or boy — that winds Over the heart its nets and chains us here In thraldom down or voluntary trance, This magic jugglery, that fools the soul — These obscure powers that cloud and flatter it ! Oh, cursed first of all be the high thoughts That man conceives of his own attributes ! And cursed be the shadowy appearances, The false delusive images of things That slave and mock the senses ! cursed be The hypocrite dreams that soothe us when we think Of me — of deathless and enduring names ! Cursed be all that, in self-flattery. We call our own, — wife, child, and slave, and plough ; —

FAUST, 153

Curse upon Mammon, when with luring gold

He stirs our souls to hardy deeds, or when

He smoothes the couch of indolent repose ;

A curse upon the sweet grape's balmy juice,

And the passionate joys of love, man's highest joys —

And cursed be all hope and all belief;

And cursed, more than all^ man's tame endurance.

Song of i?ivisibie Spirits.

Woe, woe ! thou hast destroyed it !

This beautiful world : Mighty his hand, who dealt

The blow thro' Nature felt.

Earth withers :

A demigod cursed it — A shock from the Spirit that shaped and enjoyed it; A blight from the bosom that nursed it ; The fragments we sweep down Night's desolate steep, ' The fading glitter we mourn and we weep !

Proud and powerful Son of earth, To second birth,

Call again the pageant splendid — Oh, restore what thou hast rended — Be no more the wreck thou art- Recommence, with clearer sense,

154 FAUST,

And build within thy secret heart ; Re-create, with better fate, Another world on firmer ground, And far and near, and all around. With songs of joy and triumphing, Heaven and the happy earth shall ring. Meph. Listen to the witching lay !

Wise and wily ones be they ;

Little ones of mine, and good

Children are they — sly and shrewd :

Childlike are their voices— age

Never uttered words more sage ;

Active life— the joys of sense

Counsels all experience, —

And my little ones do well,

Courting thee 'mong men to dwell,

Far from this monastic cell ;

Where passions and young blood together

In solitude grow dry and wither.

Oh^ listen, and let charms like these

Thy feelings and thy fancy seize.

Cease to indulge this misanthropic humour,

Which like a vulture preys upon thy life ;

The worst society will make thee feel

That thou, too, art a man, and among men —

Not that I mean to mix you with the rabble.

I'm not myself one of the higher orders ;

But if you will in company with me

FAUST, 155

See life, I will contrive to maiicage matters, And make arrangements to convenience you, Cheerfully — from this moment am your comrade ; Or, if you like me, am your servant — nay, Your slave.

Faust. And what must I give in return ?

Meph. Oh, time enough to think of that hereafter.

Faust, No, no ! the devil is selfish — very selfish — Does nothing for God's sake or from good nature : Come, out with your conditions, and speak plainly — There's little luck, I trow, with such a servant.

Meph. I bind myself to be thy servant here^ To ran and rest not at thy beck and bidding ; And when we meet again in yonder place, There^ in like manner thou shalt be my servant.

Faust. That yonder place gives me but small concern ; When thou hast first shattered this world to atoms, There may be others then, for aught I care. All joys, that I can feel, from this earth flow, And this sun shines upon my miseries ! And were I once divorced from them I care not What may hereafter happen — of these things I'll hear no more — I do not seek to know If man, in future life, still hates and loves ; If in those spheres there be^ as well as here, Like differences of suffering and enjoyment, Debasement and superiority.

Meph. With feelings such as these you well may venture.

156 FAUST,

Make only the engagement, and at once All will be pleasure — I have rare devices, And of my craft will show thee many marvels, Right strange and merry scenes will conjure up : Sights shalt thou see that man hath never seen.

Faust Thou — what hast thou — poor devil? The mind of man, Man's seeking — struggling spirit — hopes — aspirings Infinite — are they things to be conceived By natures su-ch as thou art ? Yet hast thou^ Poor devil, in thy degree a wherewithal To wile and win us ; deUcates uncloying Are — are they not ? — among those lures of thine ? Yea 1 hast thou the red gold that restlessly Like quicksilver slides from the hand — a game At which none wins, yet is it play ? — a girl That with her lavish arms around my breast, With willing eyes ogles and wooes another. —And splendour hast thou ? — rank — wilt give me these ? The starlight meteors of ambition's heav'n ? Aye ! let me see this pleasant fruit of thine That rots before we gather it — the trees That each day bud and bloom anew.*

Meph. Fine things to fancy ! — to be sure you shall Have this or any thing you wish to ask for, — Something less spiritual were something better ; ■^ " The w'orlde tlial iicwclli every daic.'' — GowER, Coufcssio Aniantis.

FAUST.

But by and by we'll find the Doctor's taste Improving, — we'll have our own pleasant places, And our tit bits — and our snug little parties, And — what will keep the Doctor's spirit quiet ; — — I promise you, you'll feel what comfort is.

Faust. Comfort and quiet ! — no, no ! none of these For me — I ask them not — I seek them not. If ever I upon the bed of sloth Lie down and rest, then be the hour, in which I so lie down and rest, my last of life. Canst thou by falsehood or by flattery Delude me into self-complacent smiles, ' Cheat me into tranquillity ? come, then, And welcome life's last day — be this our wager.

Me ph. Done.

Faust. Done, say I clench we at once the bargain. If ever time should flow so calmly on, Soothing my spirits into such oblivion. That in the pleasant trance I would arrest, And hail the happy moment in its course, Bidding it Hnger with me — " Oh, how fair Art thou, delicious moment !" — " Happy days, Why will ye flee ?" — " Fair visions ! yet a little Abide with me, and bless me — fly not yet," Or words like these — then throw me into fetters- Then willingly do I consent to perish ; Then may the death-bell peal its heavy sounds ;

157

158 FAUST.

Then is thy service at an end — and then

The clock may cease to strike — tlie hand to move —

For me be time then passed avv^ay for ever

Meph. Think well upon it — we will not forget.

Faust. Remember, or forget it, as you please ; I have resolved — and that not rashly : here^ While I remain, I needs must be a slave — AVhat matter, therefore, whether thine, or whose ?

Meph. I'll then, belike, at the Doctors' Feast to-day Attend, your humble friend and servitor. Just one thing more— as life and death's uncertain, I'd wish to have a line or two in writing,

Faust, And dost thou ask a writing, too, poor pedant? Know you not Man ? Man's nature ? or Man's word ? Is it not enough that I have spoken it ? My very life — all that I have and am, What is it but an echo of my word, Pledge of the will that gives it utterance ? If words be nothing, what is writing more ? Is the world's course one sea of stormy madness,-^ Its thousand streams, in conflict everlasting, Raving tegardlessly ? roll they not on? Must they not roll ? — and can it be that I, In this perpetual movement, shall not move- Held back, the slave and prisoner of a promise ? Yet in this fancy all believe alike : If a delusion, all men are deluded—

FAUST. 159

And is there one that would be undeceived? Truth and the feeling of integrity- Are of the heart's own essence — should they call For sufferings, none repents the sacrifice. Oh, happy he, whom Truth accompanies In all his walks — from outward cumbrance free — Pure of all soil — dwelling within the heart, Light to his steps and guidance : oracle To lead or to mislead, none doth he seek ; ^

Consults no casuist, but an honest conscience ; Of sacrifices recks not, and repents not. But a stamped parchment and a formal deed, With seal and signature, all shrink from this As something that offends and wounds our nature ; It robs, methinks, the words of all their life, The letter, and that only binds us now ; Such virtue, and no other can it have. As seal and stamp, as wax and parchment give — But why? — why argue for it or against it ? — Is writing more than the unwritten word ? — What, evil one, what is it you require ? Brass? marble? parchm.ent? paper?— do you wish Graver or chisel ? or plain pen and ink ? — Have which you please — any or all of them.

Meph. Why this excitement ? why this waste of oratory ? These frantic gestures ? — any scrap will do ; — Just scratch your name, there, in a drop of blood.

i6o FAUST.

Faust A silly farce — but if it gratifies you

Meph. Blood it must be — blood has peculiar virtues. Faust. Fear not that I will break this covenant : The only impulse now that sways my powers, My sole desire in life, is what I've promised ! I've been puffed up with fancies too aspiring, My rank is not more high than thine ; I am Degraded and despised by the Great Spirit ; Nature is sealed from me ; the web of thought Is shattered ; burst into a thousand threads ; I loathe, and sicken at the name of knowledge. Now in the depths of sensuality To still these burning passions ; to be wrapped In the impenetrable cloak of magic, With things miraculous to feast the senses ! Let's fling ourselves into the stream of time, Into the tumbling waves of accident, Let pain and pleasure, loathing and enjoyment. Mingle and alternate, as it may be ; Restlessness is man's best activity.

Meph. Nothing whatever is there to restrain you — If your desires be as you say, to taste Of every sweet — sip all things — setde nowhere — Catching each moment while upon the wing In random motion all that meets the eye, Rifling from every flower its bloom and fragrance, If any thing will do that is amusing—

FAUST. I6l

I wish you joy of this new life — come on —

Set to at once — come — come, no bashful loitering.

Fmist Hearken. I have not said one word of bliss — Henceforth do I devote and yield myself, Heart, soul, and life, to rapturous excitement — Such dizzy, such intoxicating joy, As, when we stand upon a precipice. Makes reel the giddy sense and the brain whirl 1 From this day forward am I dedicate To the indulgence of tempestuous passion — Love agonising — idolising hatred — Cheering vexation — all that animates And is our nature ; and the heart, serened And separated from the toil of knowledge, Cured of the fever that so long oppressed it, Shall cease to shut itself against the wounds Of pain : whate'er is portioned 'mong mankind In my own intimate self shall I enjoy, With my soul grasp all thoughts most high or deep, Heap on my heart all human joys and woes. Expand myself until mankind become A part as 'twere, of my identity, And they and I at last together perish.

Meph. A pretty passion for a man to cherish ! Believe me, who have for some thousand years, Day after day, been champing this hard food, Bitter bad diet is the same old leaven.

F

i63 FAUST.

Take a friend's word for it who ought to know, Never hath man from cradle to the bier Succeeded in digesting the tough dough ; To man the Universal is not given. The Whole is only for a God — in light He lives — eternal hght — Us hath he driven Into the darkness — yours is Day and Night,

Faust. This daunts not me !

Meph. Said boldly and said well !

To me there seems to be one obstacle ; Ars lo7tga, vita brevis — the old story — Take a few lessons more^and then determine. Call to your aid some builder up of verses, Let his mind wander in the fields of thought; Imagining high attributes to heap On you — the lion's magnanimity — The fleetness of the stag — the fiery blood That dances in the hearts of Italy — The constancy and firmness of the North- Let his invention gift you with the secret, With lofty thoughts low cunning to combine — To love with all a young heart's ardent impulses, Yet following closely some cold plan of reason — And thus to reconcile each contrariety. A pleasant person this Herr Microcosmos, I think IVe met him somewhere in society.

Faust, What cin7 I then — if here too all in vain

FAUST. 1G3

The passions and the senses pant and strahi, If this — the crown of onr humanity- Is placed on heights I never can attain?

Meph. You are just what you are — nay — never doubt it Heap lying curls in millions on your head ; On socks — a cubit high — plant your proud tread, You are just what you are — that's all about it.

Faust. Alas ! in vain poor I together scraped All that man's science till this day hath shown ; And all that his imagination shaped. I in ambition's dreams have made my own. A weary task it was — a sullen strife, And now I sit me down, helpless, alone, No nev/ power comes — no strength— no spring of life. Not by a hair's breadth higher is my height, Far — far as ever from the infinite.

Meph. Aye ! this is man's presumptuous view- Mine, less ambitious, is more true — Why to these moody fancies give The rein ? while living, why not live ? Why^ what the mischief ! you have got Your head-^hands^iaunch-paunch — and — what not — But all that