The Second Part OF THE TRAGEDY

ACT I

PLEASING LANDSCAPE

TWILIGHT

FAUST, reclining on flowery turf, weary, restless, trying to
sleep. SPIRITS, charming little figures forming a circle,
hovering about.

Ariel [song accompanied by Aeolian harps].
When in spring the rain of flowers
Hovering sinketh over all,
When the meadows, bright with showers,
Unto all the earth-born call,
Tiny elves with souls propitious
Haste to help where help they can;
Be he blameless, be he vicious,
They lament the luckless man.

Hovering around this head in circles airy,
Look that ye show the noble law of fairy:
Appease the furious conflict in his heart!
Draw out the burning arrows of remorse,
From suffered horrors cleanse his inmost part!
Four pauses makes the night upon its course:
Hasten to fill them with your kindly art!
His head upon a cooling pillow lay,
Then bathe him in the dew from Lethe's stream!
His limbs, cramp-stiffened, soon will freely play
When rest has made him strong for morn's new beam.
Perform the fairest elfin rite,
Restore him to the holy light!
Chorus [singly, or two or more, alternating and together].
When the breezes, warmth exhaling,
Fill the green-encircled plain,
Twilight sinks its mists enveiling,
Brings sweet fragrance in its train,
Softly whispers peace to mortals,
Rocks the heart to childlike rest,
Closes eyelids, daylight's portals,
Of the weary and oppressed.
Night already sinks and darkles,
Holy follows star on star,
Light now bright, now fainter sparkles,
Glitters near and gleams afar,
Glitters, in the lake reflecting,
Gleams in night's clear canopy;
Deepest slumber's bliss perfecting,
Reigns the moon's full majesty.
Now the hours are passed and over,
Pain and bliss have fled away.
Feel it now! Thou wilt recover!
Trust the gleam of new-born day!
Vales grow green and hills are swelling,
Lure to bowers of rest again;
Harvest's coming now foretelling,
Roll the silvery waves of grain.
If thou every wish wouldst gain thee,
Gaze at yonder glory wide!
Lightly do the bonds restrain thee;
Sleep's a shell, cast it aside!
Be the crowd faint-hearted, quailing,
Falter not, but be thou bold!
All is his who never-failing
Understands and swift lays hold.

A tremendous tumult announces the approach of the sun.

Ariel. Hark! The storm of hours is nearing!
Sounding loud to spirit-hearing,
Is the new-born day appearing.
Rocky portals grate and shatter,
Phoebus' wheels roll forth and clatter.
What a tumult Light brings near!
Trumpets, trombones are resounding,
Eyes are blinking, ears astounding;
The unheard ye shall not hear.
Slip into a flowery bell
Deeper, deeper; quiet dwell
Under the leaf, in the cliff,
If it strikes you, ye are deaf.
Faust. Refreshed anew life's pulses beat and waken
To greet the mild ethereal dawn of morning;
Earth, through this night thou too hast stood unshaken
And breath'st before me in thy new adorning,
Beginst to wrap me round with gladness thrilling,
A vigorous resolve in me forewarning,
Unceasing strife for life supreme instilling.-
Now lies the world revealed in twilight glimmer,
The wood resounds, a thousand voices trilling;
The vales where mist flows in and out lie dimmer,
But in the gorges sinks a light from heaven,
And boughs and twigs, refreshed, lift up their shimmer
From fragrant chasms where they slept at even;
Tint upon tint again emerges, clearing
Where trembling pearls from flower and leaf drip riven:
All round me is a Paradise appearing.
Look up!- The peaks, gigantic and supernal,
Proclaim the hour most solemn now is nearing.
They early may enjoy the light eternal
That later to us here below is wended.
Now on the alpine meadows, sloping, vernal,
A clear and lavish glory has descended
And step by step fulfils its journey's ending.
The sun steps forth!- Alas, already blinded,
I turn away, the pain my vision rending.
Thus is it ever when a hope long yearning
Has made a wish its own, supreme, transcending,
And finds Fulfillments portals outward turning;
From those eternal deeps bursts ever higher
Too great a flame, we stand, with wonder burning.
To kindle life's fair torch we did aspire
And seas of flame- and what a flame!- embrace us!
Is it Love? Is it Hate? that twine us with their fire,
In alternating joy and pain enlace us,
So that again toward earth we turn our gazing,
Baffled, to hide in youth's fond veils our faces.
Behind me therefore let the sun be blazing!
The cataract in gorges deeply riven
I view with rapture growing and amazing.
To plunge on plunge in a thousand streams it's given,
And yet a thousand, downward to the valleys,
While foam and mist high in the air are driven.
Yet how superb above this tumult sallies
The many-coloured rainbow's changeful being;
Now lost in air, now clearly drawn, it dallies,
Shedding sweet coolness round us even when fleeing!
The rainbow mirrors human aims and action.
Think, and more clearly wilt thou grasp it, seeing
Life is but light in many-hued reflection.
THE EMPEROR'S PALACE
THE THRONE-ROOM

The State Council awaiting the EMPEROR. Trumpets. Courtiers
of all kinds enter, splendidly dressed. The EMPEROR
ascends the throne, at his right hand the ASTROLOGER.

Emperor. I greet you, faithful friends and dear,
Assembled here from far and wide.
I see the wise man at my side,
But wherefore is the Fool not here?
A Squire. A pace behind your mantle's sweep
There on the stairs he fell in a heap;
They bore away that load of fat,
But dead or drunk? No one knows that.
A Second Squire. Now at a swift, amazing pace
Another's pushing to his place.
He's quaintly primped, in truth, and smart,
But such a fright that all men start.
The guards there at the doorway hold
Their halberds crosswise and athwart-
But here he is. The Fool is bold!
Mephistopheles [kneeling before the throne].
What is accursed and welcomed ever?
What's longed for, ever chased away?
What's always taken into favour?
What's harshly blamed, accused each day?
Whom don't you dare to summon here?
Whose name hears gladly every man?
What to your throne is drawing near?
What's placed itself beneath your ban?
Emperor. Your words you may present spare!
The place for riddles is not here;
They are these gentlemen's affair.
Solve them yourself! I'd like to hear.
My old fool's gone far, far away, I fear me;
Take you his place and come and stand here near me.

MEPHISTOPHELES mounts the steps and stations himself
on the left.

Murmurs of the Crowd.
A brand-new fool- new pains begin-
Whence did he come?- how came he in?-
The old one fell- he's spent and done-
A barrel he- a lath this one-
Emperor. And so, ye faithful whom I love,
Be welcome here from near and far.
Ye meet beneath a favouring star;
Fortune is written for us there above.
Yet wherefore in these days, oh, say,
When all our cares we'd thrust away
And wear the mummer's mask in play
And gaiety alone enjoy,
Why should we let state councils us annoy?
But since the task seems one we may not shun,
All is arranged, so be it done.
Chancellor. The highest virtue like an aureole
Circles the Emperor's head; alone and sole,
He validly can exercise it:
'Tis justice!- All men love and prize it;
'Tis what all wish, scarce do without, and ask;
To grant it to his people is his task.
But ah! what good to mortal mind is sense,
What good to hearts is kindness, hands benevolence,
When through the state a fever runs and revels,
And evil hatches more and more of evils?
Who views the wide realm from this height supreme,
To him all seems like an oppressive dream,
Where in confusion is confusion reigning
And lawlessness by law itself maintaining,
A world of error evermore obtaining.
This man steals herds, a woman that,
Cross, chalice, candlestick from altar;
For many years his boastings never falter,
His skin intact, his body sound and fat.
Now plaintiffs crowd into the hall,
The judge, encushioned, lords it over all.
Meanwhile in billows, angry, urging,
A growing tumult of revolt is surging.
Great crimes and shame may be the braggart's token,
On worst accomplices he oft depends;
And "Guilty!" is the verdict often spoken
Where Innocence only itself defends.
To pieces is our world now going,
What's fitting loses all its might;
How ever shall that sense be growing
Which, only, leads us to the Right?
At last will men of good intent
To briber, flatterer incline;
A judge who can impose no punishment,
At last with culprits will combine.
I've painted black, and yet a denser screen
I'd rather draw before the scene.

Pause.

Decisions cannot be evaded;
When all do harm and none are aided,
Majesty too becomes a prey.
Commander-in-Chief. In these wild days what riots quicken!
Each strikes and he in turn is stricken,
And no command will men obey.
The citizen behind his wall,
The knight upon his rocky nest,
Have sworn to last us out, and all
Maintain their power with stubborn zest.
The mercenaries, restless growing,
Blusteringly demand their pay,
And if to them no more were owing,
They would be quick to run away.
Let one forbid what all men fain expect,
He's put his hand into a hornet's nest;
The empire which they should protect
Lies plundered, desolate, and waste.
This furious riot no one is restraining,
Already half the world's undone;
Outside the realm kings still are reigning,
But no one thinks it his concern- not one.
Treasurer. Who will depend upon allies!
The funds they pledged as subsidies,
Like leaking pipe-borne water, do not flow.
Then, Sire, of these wide states- yours by succession-
Who now has come into possession?
A new lord rules wherever one may go,
Insist on living independently;
How he keeps house, we must look on and see.
Of rights we've given up so many,
We're left without a claim to any.
And as to parties, of whatever name,
There's been no trust in them of late;
They may give praise or they may blame,
Indifferent are their love and hate.
To rest them well from all their labour
Lie hidden Ghibelline and Guelph.
Who is there now who'll help his neighbour?
Each has enough to help himself.
Barred are the gates where gold is stored,
And all men scratch and scrape and hoard,
And empty all our coffers stay.
Steward. What ills I too must learn to bear!
We want each day to save and spare,
And more we're needing every day,
And daily do I see new trouble growing.
The cooks lack nothing, they've no woes;
For boars and stags and hares and roes
And fowls, geese, ducks, and turkeys too,
Allowances-in-kind, sure revenue,
They still are not so badly flowing.
The flow of wine? That, to be sure, is slowing.
Where once in cellars cask on cask was nuzzling,
The best of brands and vintages befuzzling,
Our noble lords' eternal guzzling
Is draining every last drop out.
The City Council's store must now be opened up.
A basin, bowl, is seized as drinking-cup
And under the table ends the drinking-bout.
Now I'm to pay, give each his wages.
The Jew will spare me no outrages,
He'll make advances which for ages
Will put our revenues to rout.
The swine are no more fatten fed,
Pawned is the pillow on the bed,
At table we eat bread for which we owe.
Emperor [after some reflection, to MEPHISTOPHELES].
Say, Fool, can you not add a tale of woe?
Mephistopheles. Indeed, not I! I see this ambient splendour,
Yourself and yours!- Should one his trust surrender
Where Majesty holds undisputed sway
And ready might sweeps hostile force away?
Where honest purpose holds command
And wisdom guides the active hand?
What can the powers of evil do, combining
To make a darkness where such stars are shining?
Murmurs.
That is a rogue- full well he knows-
Sneaks in by lying- while it goes-
I know for sure- what lurks behind-
What then?- he has some scheme in mind-

Mephistopheles. Where in this world does not some lack appear?
Here this, there that, but money's lacking here.
One can not pick it off the floor, that's sure,
But what lies deepest, wisdom can procure.
In veins of mountains, walls far underground,
Gold coined and uncoined can be found;
And do you ask me who'll bring it to light?
A man endowed with Mind's and Nature's might!
Chancellor. Nature and Mind- don't talk to Christians thus!
Men burn up atheists, fittingly,
Because such speeches are most dangerous.
Nature is sin, and Mind is devil,
They nurture doubt, in doubt they revel,
Their hybrid, monstrous progeny.
That's not for us!- Our Emperor's ancient land
Has seen arise two castes alone
Who worthily uphold his throne:
The saints and knights. Firm do they stand,
Defying every tempest day by day
And taking church and state in pay.
In rabble minds that breed confusion
Revolt arises like a tide.
Heretics, wizards! Imps of delusion!
They ruin town and country-side.
Them will you now with brazen juggle
Into this lofty circle smuggle,
While in a heart depraved you snuggle.
Fools, wizards, heretics are near allied.
Mephistopheles. I see the learned man in what you say!
What you don't touch, for you lies miles away;
What you don't grasp, is wholly lost to you;
What you don't reckon, you believe not true;
What you don't weigh, that has for you no weight;
What you don't coin, you're sure is counterfeit.
Emperor. That's not the way to help or aught determine.
What do you mean now with this Lenten sermon?
I'm sated of this endless "If" and "How."
There is no money. Well, then, get it now!
Mephistopheles. I'll furnish what you wish and more. It's true,
It is a light task, yet the light's a burden too.
The gold lies there and yet to win it,
That is the art- who knows how to begin it?
Recall those fearful times when roving bands
Poured like a deluge drowning men and lands,
How many men, so greatly did they fear,
Concealed their dearest treasure there and here.
So it was of old when mighty Rome held sway,
So it was till yesterday, aye, till today.
It all lies buried in the earth, to save it;
The earth's the Emperor's, and he should have it.
Treasurer. Now for a fool, his words are noways trite.
That is, in truth, the old Imperial Right.
Chancellor. Satan is laying his golden nooses;
We're dealing with no right and pious uses.
Steward. If he brings welcome gifts to court, I'm sure,
A little wrong with them I can endure.
Commander-in-Chief. Shrewd fool to promise each what will befit;
Whence it may come, no soldier cares a whit.
Mephistopheles. Perhaps you think I'm trying to betray you;
Well, here's the astrologer; ask him, I pray you.
Circle on circle, hour and house he knows.
Tell us then what the heavenly aspect shows.
Murmurs.
Two rogues- each to the other known-
Dreamer and Fool- so near the throne-
An ancient ditty- worn and weak-
The Fool will prompt- the Sage will speak-

Astrologer [MEPHISTOPHELES prompting him].
The Sun himself is gold of purest ray,
The herald Mercury serves for love and pay;
Dame Venus has bewitched you all, for she,
In youth and age, looks on you lovingly.
Chaste Luna has her humours whimsical;
The strength of Mars, though striking not, threats all;
And Jupiter is still the fairest star.
Saturn is great, small to our eyes and far;
Him as a metal we don't venerate,
Little in worth but heavy in his weight.
Ah, when with Sol chaste Luna doth unite,
Silver with gold, the world is glad and bright.
It's easy then to get all that one seeks:
Parks, palaces, and breasts and rosy cheeks.
All these procures the highly learned man
Who can perform what one of us never can.
Emperor. All that he says I hear twice o'er,
And yet I'm not convinced the more.
Murmurs.
What's all this smoke- a worn-out joke-
Astrology- or alchemy-
An oft-heard strain- hope stirred in vain-
If he appear- a rogue is here-

Mephistopheles. They stand around and gape in wonder;
They won't believe that a great prize is found.
Of mandrakes one appears to maunder,
Another of the sable hound.
What though one's wit make others prickle,
Another cry out: "Sorcery!"-
If still he sometimes feels his sole a-tickle
And his stride is not what it used to be!
You feel the secret operation
Of Nature's endless ruling might,
And from earth's undermost foundation
A living trace steals up to light.
When in your limbs you're feeling twitches,
When something lays uncanny hold,
Be swift to delve, dig up the riches,
There lies the fiddler, lies the gold!
Murmurs.
My foot's like lead, can't move about-
Cramp's in my arm- that's only gout-
A tickle's jerking my big toe-
All down my back it hurts me so-
From signs like these it should be clear
The richest gold-preserve is here.

Emperor. Make haste! You shan't escape today.
Prove now your scummy, lying phrases
And show at once those noble spaces.
My sword and sceptre I will put away;
If you're not lying, I will lend
My own exalted hands, this work to end,
But if you're lying, I'll send you to hell!
Mephistopheles. That pathway I could find full well!
But I've not words enough to tell
What, ownerless, is waiting everywhere.
The farmer, ploughing furrows with his share,
Turns with the clods a pot of gold;
He seeks saltpetre in a clay wall, and
He finds a golden, golden roll to hold,
Scared and rejoiced, in his own wretched hand.
Who would explore the earth-hid wonder,
What vaultings must he burst asunder,
What dark ways burrow through and under
Near neighbouring on the world below!
In cellars vast, preserved of old,
Plates, dishes, beakers too, of gold
He sees displayed there, row on row.
There goblets, made of rubies, stand,
And if he'll put them to a use,
Beside them is an ancient juice.
Yet- you'll believe my master-hand-
The wooden staves are long since rotten;
A cask of tartar has the wine begotten.
Not only gold and jewels rare,
Proud wines of noble essences are there,
Enveiled in horror and in gloom.
The wise seek here without dismay.
A fool can recognize a thing by day;
In darkness mysteries are at home.
Emperor. What is the gain of dark? You can have that!
If aught has value, it must come to light.
Who can detect a rogue in dead of night?
All cows are black, and grey is every cat.
The pots down there, heavy with golden freight-
Drive your plough on, unearth them straight.
Mephistopheles. Take hoe and spade yourself, dig on!
You'll grow great, through this peasant-toil.
A herd of golden calves anon
Will wrench their way out of the soil.
Then with delight, without delay,
Yourself you can, you will your love array.
A jewel in which light and colour dance
Both Majesty and Beauty can enhance.
Emperor. Be quick, be quick! How long are we to wait?
Astrologer [as above]. Such urgent longing, Sire, pray moderate!
Let first the motley, joyous play proceed,
To no fair goal can minds distracted lead.
First, penance in a calm mood doth behoove us,
Earn what's beneath us by what is above us.
Who wishes good, should first be good,
Who wishes joy, should mollify his blood,
Who asks for wine, the ripe grape should he press,
Who hopes for miracles, more faith possess.
Emperor. So let the time in merriment be spent!
Ash-Wednesday's coming to our heart's content.
Meanwhile we'll celebrate, whate'er befall,
All the more merrily mad Carnival.

Trumpets, exeunt.

Mephistopheles. How closely linked are Luck and Merit,
Is something fools have never known.
Had they the Wise Man's Stone, I swear it,
There'd be no Wise Man for the Stone.
A SPACIOUS HALL

With adjoining apartments decorated and adorned, for a
masquerade.

Herald. Don't think ye'll here see German revels,
A Dance of Death, of Fools and Devils!
A cheerful festival awaits you here.
Our ruler, when to Rome he went campaigning,
His profit and your pleasure gaining,
The perils of the Alps disdaining,
Won for himself a realm of cheer.
First, at the holy feet bowed down,
A grant of power he besought,
And when he went to fetch his crown,
The fool's-cap too for us he brought.
Now we are all new-born in years,
And every well-sophisticated man
Happily draws it over head and ears.
Akin to crazy fools he now appears,
Under it acting wisely as he can.
I see the crowds are coming yonder,
Some pair in love, some swing asunder,
Crowd presses crowd, like youth let of school.
Come in or out, let naught be daunting!
Now too as ever holds the rule:
A hundred thousand follies vaunting,
The world remains one great, big fool!
Flower Girls [song accompanied by mandolins].
That ye may approval tender
We're adorned tonight in sport;
Florentines, we joined the splendour
Of this festive German court.
Flowers in our chestnut tresses
We are wearing gay and bright,
Silken threads and silken jesses
Also play their part tonight;
For we think we are deserving
All your praises full and clear.
See the flowers we made, preserving
All their bloom throughout the year.
Scraps of every tint we've taken,
Each with due symmetric form;
Though each may your wit awaken,
See the whole and feel its charm.
Fair are we in every feature,
Flower maidens gay of heart;
For the ways of women's nature
Are so near akin to art.

Herald.
Let us see your baskets' riches;
Head and arms bear lovely treasure,
Bear gay beauty that bewitches.
Let each choose what gives him pleasure.
Hasten till we see appearing
Gardens in each nook and alley.
Pedlars, wares, such beauty bearing,
Well the throng may round them rally.
Flower Girls.
Barter in these cheery places,
But don't haggle as ye go!
And in brief and pithy phrases,
What he has, let each one know.
An Olive Branch with Fruits.
Flowery sprays I do not covet,
Strife I shun, I am above it;
To my nature it is strange.
Yet I am the nation's marrow,
Pledge secure 'gainst spear and arrow,
Sign of peace where men may range.
And today I'm hoping, fleetly
To adorn a fair head meetly.
A Wreath of Golden Ears.
To bedeck you, gifts of Ceres
Will be lovely, sweet, and rare;
What for us most wished and dear is
Be for your adornment fair.
A Fancy Wreath.
Mallow-like, these gay-hued flowers,
From the moss, a wondrous bloom!
They are rare, in Nature's bowers,
But Dame Fashion gives them room.
A Fancy Nosegay.
Name me? Theophrastus never
Would a name for me assever!
If to some scarce worth a penny,
Still I hope I may please many
If she'll take whom she possesses,
If she'll twine me in her tresses,
Or the fairest fate deciding,
On her heart grant me abiding.
Rosebuds, a Challenge.
Let fantastic gaudy flowers
Bloom as Fashion oft empowers
Wondrous- strange and finely moulded,
Such as Nature ne'er unfolded.
Green stalks, gold bells, look entrancing
From rich locks, their charm enhancing!
But we hide from mortal eyes.
Happy he who us espies?
When anew the summer beameth
As the rosebud, kindling, gleameth,
From such bliss who'd be abstaining?
Sweet the promise and attaining
Which in Flora's fair domain
Rule over vision, heart, and brain.

Under green, leafy arcades the FLOWER GIRLS adorn their wares
daintily.

Gardeners [song accompanied by theorbos].
See the flowers sprout unhasting,
Charms around your head they're weaving?
Fruits lead not astray, deceiving;
One enjoys them in the tasting.
Sun-burnt faces offer gladly
Cherries, royal plums, and peaches.
Buy! The tongue, the palate, teaches
That your eye can judge but badly.
Come! The ripest fruit entices,
Eat it, with glad relish smitten;
Over a rose one poetizes,
But an apple must be bitten.
Grant us, prithee, to be mated
With your youth so flowery-fair!
Neighbourly so decorated
Be our plenteous ripe ware.
Under garlands gay that wind them
In adorned and leafy bowers,
All are here for you to find them:
Buds and leaves and fruit and flowers.

Midst alternating songs, accompanied by guitars and theorbos,
both choruses continue to set their wares out attractively in
tiers and to offer them for sale.

MOTHER AND DAUGHTER.

Mother.
Maiden, when thou cam'st to light,
Little caps I wove thee:
Body tender, face so bright,
How they made me love thee!
Thought of thee as quickly won,
Wedded to the richest son,
Thought as wife wouldst prove thee.
Ah, already many a year
Hence, unused, has fleeted;
Motley host of wooers here
Swiftly past has speeded.
With the one didst nimbly dance,
Gav'st the other nudge and glance
Which he might have heeded.
Every fete that we might plan,
Vain it was to match one;
Forfeit games and "Hindmost Man,"
Naught availed to snatch one.
Each fool wears today his cap;
Darling, open now thy lap,
Haply wilt thou catch one.

Girl playmates, young and fair, join the group; a confidential
chatter is heard. Fishers and fowlers with nets, fishing-rods,
limed twigs, and other gear enter and mingle with the pretty
girls. Reciprocal attempts to win, catch, escape, and hold
fast give opportunity for the most agreeable dialogues.

Woodcutters [enter boisterously and boorishly].
Make room! A clearing!
Spaces for revel!
Trees that we level
Crash in their falling;
And when we're hauling,
We hit what's nearing.
Our praises grudge not,
This truth pray nourish:
Did rough folk drudge not
In every county,
Could fine folk flourish,
Come by their bounty,
However they fretted?
Learn this in season!
For ye'd be freezing,
Had we not sweated.
Pulcinelli [awkward, almost silly].
Oh, fools that ye are,
Born bent, and we are
The really clever,
Loads bearing never.
Our caps and jackets
And rags are packets
Quite light to carry.
And we are merry,
Forever lazy,
In slippers easy,
In them to shuffle
Through market and scuffle,
To gape at the pother,
Croak at each other.
Heeding the racket,
Through crowds that pack it,
Like eels we're slipping,
Together tripping,
All mad together.
We care not whether
Ye blame or praise us,
Nothing can faze us.
Parasites [fawningly lustful].
Of you, stout porters,
And your supporters,
The charcoal-burners,
We are not spurners.
For all the bending
And nods assenting,
Phrases too flowing,
And two-ways blowing,
They're warming and chilling
Just as one's feeling,
Yet what the profit?
Heaven might send fire,
Enormous, dire,
But, then, what of it,
Were there no billets
Or coal in barrows
To grill your skillets
Through to their marrows?
There's sizzling, broiling,
There's bubbling, boiling.
True taster, picker,
The platter-licker,
He smells the roasting,
He sniffs the fishes,
With gusto accosting
His patron's dishes.
A Drunken Man [maudlin].
'Sdeath today to all my worry!
For I feel so frank and free;
Fresh delight and ditties merry,
These I brought along with me.
So I'm drinking, drink ye, drink ye!
Clink your glasses, clink ye, clink ye!
Ye behind there, now come on!
Clink your glasses, so it's done.
Angrily my wife shrieked loudly,
Sneering at my piebald suit,
And although I swaggered proudly,
"Scarecrow, scarecrow!" did she hoot.
Yet I'm drinking, drink ye, drink ye!
Clink your glasses, cling ye, clink ye!
Clink them, scarecrows, every one!
Clinking, clinking, so it's done.
Say not that my way I'm losing,
I am where my worries fade.
If mine host lend not, refusing,
Hostess lends, or eke the maid.
Still I drink on! Drink ye, drink ye!
Up, ye others! Clink ye, clink ye!
Each to each! Thus on and on!
Now methinks that it is done.
How and where I'm pleasure plying,
Still may it always be at hand.
Let me lie where I am lying,
For I can no longer stand.
Chorus.
Brothers all, now drink ye, drink ye!
Toast ye gaily, clink ye, clink ye!
Sit ye firm on bench and board!
Under the table lies one floored.

The HERALD announces various poets, poets by nature, courtly and
knightly minstrels, sentimentalists as well as enthusiasts. In
the throng of competitors of all kinds no one allows another
to begin a speech. One slips past with a few words.

Satirist.
Know ye what my soul as poet
Chiefly would delight and cheer?
Sing and say, if I dared do it,
That which none would like to hear.

The poets of night and churchyards excuse themselves, because
they are just engaged in a most interesting conversation with
newly-arisen vampire, and from it a new school of poetry may
perhaps arise; the HERALD is obliged to accept their apologies
and meanwhile he calls forth Greek mythology which, in modern
masks, loses neither its character nor its charm.

THE GRACES.

Aglaia.
Charm we're bringing into living,
So be charming in your giving!

Hegemone.
Charming be ye in receiving!
Lovely is desire's achieving.

Euphrosyne.
And when peacefully ye're living,
Be most charming your thanksgiving!

THE FATES.

Atropos.
I, the eldest Fate, from yonder
For the while to spin am bidden.
Much to think of, much to ponder,
In life's tender thread is hidden.
Finest flax I winnow featly
That your thread be supple, tender;
Fingers shrewd will twirl it neatly,
Make it even, smooth, and slender.
Ye who, warm with dance and pleasure,
All too wanton, snatch a token,
Think that this thread has a measure,
Have a care! It might be broken.
Clotho.
Know ye that the shears were lately
Given to my care to ply;
For our Ancient's conduct greatly
Did, in truth, none edify.
She drags on most useless spinnings
On and on in air and light,
Promise of most glorious winnings
Clips and drags to realms of night.
Yet when I was young and reigning,
I, too, erred oft in those years;
Now I yield to curb restraining,
In their case I keep the shears.
So I gladly wear a bridle,
And this scene with joy survey.
In these hours so gay and idle,
Revel, riot, sport, and play!
Lachesis.
Unto me, alone discerning,
Was the thread's control decreed;
For my reel, forever turning,
Never erred through too great speed.
Threads are coming, threads are reeling,
Each one in its course I guide;
None may slip from spindle wheeling,
Each must in its orbit glide.
Could I once forget in leisure,
For the world I'd fear with pain;
Hours, they count, and years, they measure,
And the Weaver takes the skein.
Herald. Those coming now, ye'd never recognize them,
However learned ye were in ancient letters.
To look at them- the world's worst ill-abettors-
Ye'd call them welcome guests and prize them.
They are the Furies, no one will believe us.
Fair are they, well-made, friendly, young moreover;
But if ye lend them ear, ye will discover
How serpent-like such doves can wound and grieve us.
Malicious are they- true!- and with effront'ry,
But now when each fool boasts his reputation,
They too ask not angelic exaltation;
They know they are the pests of town and country.

THE FURIES.

Alecto. What boots it? For to trust us ye'll not stickle,
For each is young and fair, a coaxing kitten.
If one among you by a girl is smitten,
We shall not cease, his ears to scratch and tickle,
Until we dare to tell him, to his loathing,
That for this man and that one she is primping,
Crooked in her back, all wit doth lack, and limping,
And if betrothed to him, she's good-for-nothing!
And the betrothed- we know the way to sting her.
Why scarce a week ago her precious lover
To such-and-such a girl spoke basely of her;
Though they be reconciled, a sting will linger.
Megaera. That's but a jest! For when they once are married,
I go to work in every case to fritter
The fairest bliss away with fancies bitter.
The moods of men are varied, hours are varied.
None holds embraced what his desire has chosen,
But seeks a More-desired with foolish yearning
And from long-wonted, highest blessings turning,
Flees a warm love and tries to warm a frozen.
I'm skilled in managing such household troubles,
And Asmodeus, comrade true, I summon
To scatter strife betimes twixt man and woman;
Thus I destroy the human race in couples.
Tisiphone.
Poison, steel- not words malicious-
Mix I, whet I, for the traitor.
Lov'st thou others? Sooner, later,
Overwhelms thee ruin vicious.
What the sweetest moment offers,
Turns perforce to wormwood galling!
Here no haggling, pulling, hauling;
As one sins, one always suffers.
None shall sing about forgiving!
To the rocks my cause I'm crying.
Echo, hark! "Revenge!" replying.
For the unstable, death! not living!

Herald. Now, if it please you, stand aside a pace,
For what comes now is not your kind or race.
Ye see a mountain pressing through the throng,
Its flanks with brilliant housings proudly hung,
A head with long tusks, snake-like snout below.
A mystery! but soon the key I'll show.
A dainty woman on his neck is sitting
And with her wand subjects him to her bidding;
Another stands aloft, sublime to see,
Girt by a radiance dazzling, blinding me.
Beside them chained, two noble women near,
Fearful the one, the other blithe of cheer.
One longs for freedom and one feels she's free.
Let each declare now who she be.
Fear.
Lamps and lights and torches smoking
Through this turmoil gleam around;
Midst these faces, shamming, joking,
I, alas, in chains am bound.
Hence, ye throngs absurdly merry!
I mistrust your grins with right;
Every single adversary
Presses nearer in this night.
Friend turned foe would here bewray me,
But his mask I know well. Stay,
Yonder's one who wished to slay me;
Now revealed, he slinks away.
Through the wide world I would wander,
Following every path that led,
But destruction threatens yonder,
Holds me fast twixt gloom and dread.
Hope. Hail, beloved sisters, hail!
Though today and yesterday
Ye have loved this maskers' play,
Yet tomorrow ye'll unveil.
This I know of you quite surely.
If beneath the torches' flaring
We can't find our special pleasure,
Yet in days of cheerful leisure,
As our will doth bid us purely,
Now in groups, now singly faring,
We'll roam over lovely leas,
Resting, doing, as we please,
In a life no cares assailing,
Naught forgoing, never failing.
Everywhere as welcome guest
Let us enter, calm in mind,
Confident that we shall find
Somewhere, certainly, the best.
Prudence.
Two of man's chief foes, behold them,
Fear and Hope, in fetters mated;
From this crowd I'll keep and hold them.
Room, make room! Ye're liberated.
I conduct the live colossus,
See the burden that it carries,
And the steepest pass it crosses,
Step by step, and never wearies.
But upon the summit of it
Yonder goddess with her pinions
Broad and agile, seeking profit,
Turns to spy all man's dominions.
Girt is she by splendour glorious
Shining far along all courses,
Victory her name! Victorious
Goddess of all active forces.
Zoilo-Thersites. Ho, ho! Just right I've reached this spot,
We're one and all a wretched lot!
And yet the goal I've chosen me
Is she up there, Dame Victory.
She with her snowy wings spread out
Thinks she's an eagle, past all doubt,
And wheresoever she may stir,
Thinks men and lands belong to her.
But when some glorious deed is done,
At once I put my armour on.
Up with the low, down with the high,
The crooked straight, the straight awry-
That, only, makes me feel aglow,
And on this earth I'll have it so.
Herald. Then take thou that, a master-blow
From my good staff, thou wretched hound,
Then straightway writhe and twist around!-
How swift the two-fold dwarfish clump
Balls up into a loathsome lump!-
But see! lump turns to egg- a wonder!
Puffs itself up and bursts asunder.
Thence comes a pair of twins to earth,
Adder and bat- a wondrous birth!
On in the dust one crawls and creeps,
The black one round the ceiling sweeps,
And where they haste to join again,
To be the third I am not fain.

Murmuring.
Come! they're dancing now back there!-
No! I want to flee from here-
Feel ye not the ghost-like breed
Creeping, wheeling, round us speed?-
Something whizzes past my hair-
My foot felt a something there-
Still not one of us is harmed-
But we all have been alarmed-
Now all ruined is our fun-
This, the beasts! they wanted done.

Herald. Since on me, when masquerading,
Herald's duties ye've been lading,
Stern I guard the portal, wary
Lest into your revels merry
Aught may slink of harmful savour;
Neither do I shrink nor waver.
Yet I fear lest spectres erring
Through the windows may be faring;
If black arts and spooks beset you,
From them I could never get you.
Of the dwarf we were suspicious.
Lo! Back there a pageant issues!
As a herald, it's my duty
To explain those forms of beauty,
But what's past all comprehending,
For that I've no explanation.
Help ye, all, my education!-
See what hitherward is tending!
Lo! a four-yoked chariot splendid
Through the crowd its way has wended,
Yet the crowd it does not sunder;
I can see no crushing yonder.
In the distance colours shimmer,
Stars gay-coloured beam and flimmer,
Magic-lantern-like they glimmer.
All storm on as to assault.
Clear the way! I shudder!
A Boy Charioteer. Halt!
Steeds, let now your wings fall idle,
Feel the well-accustomed bridle;
Master self as you I master;
When I thrill you, on! and faster!
Let us honour now these spaces!
Look around at all the faces;
More and more admirers cluster.
Herald, up! Take wonted muster!
Ere we flee, tell thou our stories,
Name us and describe and show us;
For we all are allegories,
Therefore thou shouldst surely know us.
Herald. There's no name I could ascribe thee,
But I rather might describe thee.
Boy Charioteer. Try it then!
Herald. I must avow,
Firstly, young and fair art thou.
A half-grown boy thou art; but women rather
Would see thee full-grown altogether.
It seems that thou wilt be a fickle wooer,
Right from the start a real undoer.
Boy Charioteer. That's well worth hearing! On with thee,
Discover now the riddle's happy key.
Herald. Thy flashing ebony eyes, locks black and glowing,
More radiant from the jewelled diadem!
And what a graceful robe doth stream
From shoulder down to buskin flowing,
With glittering gaud and purple hem!
Now might we flouting "Maiden!" deem thee,
Yet, good or ill as it might be,
Already maidens would esteem thee.
They'd teach thee soon thine A B C.
Boy Charioteer. And yonder one, in splendour glowing,
Who proudly sits on chariot throne?
Herald. A king he seems, of wealth o'erflowing;
Happy the man who has his favour won!
He has naught more to earn and capture,
He swift espies where aught's amiss,
And has in giving more pure rapture
Than in possessing and in bliss.
Boy Charioteer. To stop with this will not avail;
Thou must describe him in far more detail.
Herald. There's no describing Dignity.
The healthy, full-moon face I see,
The lips so full, the cheeks so blooming
Beneath the turban's beauty looming,
The flowing robe he's richly wearing-
What shall I say of such a bearing?
He seems a ruler known to me.
Boy Charioteer. Plutus, the god of wealth, is he.
Hither he comes in gorgeous trim;
Sorely the Emperor longs for him.
Herald. Now thine own What and How relate to me!
Boy Charioteer. I am Profusion, I am Poesy!
The poet who's attained his goal
When he's poured out his inmost soul.
I too am rich with untold pelf
And value me the peer of Plutus' self,
Adorn, enliven, make his revels glow;
And what he lacks, that I bestow.
Herald. Bragging becomes thee charmingly,
But now thine arts, pray, let us see.
Boy Charioteer. Here see me snap my fingers. Lo!
Around the chariot gleam and glow!
And now a necklace of pearls appears!

Continuing to snap his fingers in every direction.

Here spangled gold for neck and ears
And flawless comb and coronet
And rings with precious jewels set.
Flamelets I scatter too in turn,
Waiting to see where they may burn.
Herald. How the dear mob is snatching, seizing,
Even the giver almost squeezing!
Dream-like he's scatt'ring gems where all
Are snatching in the spacious hall.
But what is this? A brand-new juggle!
However busily one snatch and struggle,
His trouble really does not pay;
The gifts take wing and fly away.
The pearls are loosened from their band
And beetles scrabble in his hand;
He shakes them off, the poor biped,
And then they hum around his head.
Others, instead of solid things,
Catch butterflies with flimsy wings.
How much he promises, the knave!
Glitter of gold was all he gave.
Boy Charioteer.
Of masks, I note, thou canst proclaim each feature.
Beneath the shell to fathom out the nature
Is not the herald's courtly task;
A keener eye for that we ask.
But feuds I shun, if only in suggestion;
To thee, lord, I address my speech and question.

Turning to PLUTUS.

Didst thou not give me charge supreme
Over the four-yoked, whirlwind team?
Guide I not happily as thou leadest?
Am I not everywhere thou biddest?
And on bold pinions did I not for thee
Bear off the palm of victory?
However oft for thee as I've contended,
Success was ever my portion; and when now
The laurel decorates thy brow,
Did not my hand and art entwine and blend it?
Plutus. If need be that I testify, then hear it!
I say with joy: Thou art spirit of my spirit!
Thy deeds are ever after my own will;
Rich as I am, thou art richer still.
Thy service to reward in fitting measure,
The laurel more than all my crowns I treasure.
This truth in all men's hearts I would instill:
In thee, dear son, I have much pleasure.
Boy Charioteer [to the crowd].
The greatest gifts my hand deals out,
Lo! I have scattered roundabout.
On this head and on that one too
There glows a flamelet that I threw.
From one to other head it skips,
To this one cleaves, from that one slips;
It seldom flares up like a plume,
And swiftly beams in transient bloom.
Ere many its worth recognize,
It burns out mournfully and dies.
Women's Chatter.
There on the chariot sits a man
Who surely is a charlatan,
Hunched up behind, a perfect clown,
By thirst and hunger so worn down
As naught before, and if ye'd pinch,
He has no flesh to feel and flinch.

Starveling. Away from me, ye odious crew!
Welcome, I know, I never am to you.
When hearth and home were women's zone,
As Avaritia I was known.
Then did our household thrive throughout,
For much came in and naught went out!
Zealous was I for chest and bin;
'Twas even said my zeal was sin.
But since in years most recent and depraving
Woman is wont no longer to be saving
And, like each tardy payer, collars
Far more desires than she has dollars,
The husband now has much to bore him;
Wherever he looks, debts loom before him.
Her spinning-money is turned over
To grace her body or her lover;
Better she feasts and drinks still more
With all her wretched lover-corps.
Gold charms me all the more for this:
Male's now my gender, I am Avarice!
Leader of the Women.
With dragons be the dragon avaricious,
It's naught but lies, deceiving stuff!
To stir up men he comes, malicious,
Whereas men now are troublesome enough.
Women [en masse].
The scarecrow! Box his ears, the japer!
Why does the wooden cross threat here?
As if his ugly face we'd fear!
Dragons are made of wood and paper.
Have at him, crowd him, scoff and jeer!

Herald. Peace! By my staff! Peace or begone!
And yet my aid's scarce needed here.
In yonder space so quickly won
See the grim monsters moving on,
Swift to unfold their pinions' double pair.
The dragons shake themselves in ire;
Their scaly jaws spew smoke and fire.
The crowd has fled, the place is clear.

PLUTUS descends from his chariot.

Herald. He's stepping down, what royal grace!
He becks, the dragons move apace;
Down from the chariot they've borne the chest
With all its gold, and Avarice thereon.
There at his feet it stands at rest;
A marvel how it was ever done.
Plutus [to the CHARIOTEER].
Now art thou rid of thy too heavy burden,
Free art thou! Off to thine own sphere and guerdon!
Thy sphere's not here! Here shapes most hideous,
Distorted, motley, wild, press in on us.
Where thou see'st naught but lovely clarity,
Where thine own vision is enough for thee,
Thither where only Good and Beauty please and wait,
Away to Solitude! there thine own world create!
Boy Charioteer. Thus I esteem myself a worthy envoy of thee,
And as my nearest kinsman do I love thee.
Where thou art, Plenty is; where I remain,
Each feels himself enriched by glorious gain.
Oft in the clash of life a man doth waver:
Shall he in thee or me seek favour?
Thy followers can idly rest, it's true;
Who follows me always has work to do.
My deeds in darkness never are concealed;
If I but breathe, I am at once revealed.
And so, farewell My bliss thou grantest me,
But whisper low and I am back with thee.

Exit as he came.

Plutus. It's time now to unloose the precious metals.
I strike the padlocks with the herald's rod.
The chest flies open! See in brazen kettles
A boiling, bubbling up of golden blood.
First, ornaments of crowns, chains, rings will follow!
Seething, it threatens all to melt and swallow.

Alternating Cries from the crowd.
See here! and there! how treasures brim!
The chest is filling to the rim-
Vessels of gold are grilling there,
And coins in rolls are milling there.-
As if just minted, ducats jump,
Oh, how my heart begins to thump!-
All that I want I see and more!
They're rolling there along the floor.-
It's yours, they say- appease your itch,
Just stoop a bit and rise up rich.-
Swift as the lightning, we, the rest,
Will take possession of the chest.

Herald. What does this mean? Ye silly folk!
It's but a masquerading joke.
Naught more can be desired tonight;
Think ye we give you gold outright?
Verily in this game for such
As ye, yes, vouchers were too much.
Blockheads! A pleasant show, forsooth,
Ye take at once as solid truth.
What's truth to you?- Delusion vain,
Catch where ye can, ye clutch amain.
Plutus, chief mummer, hero of the masque,
Drive from the field this folk, I ask.
Plutus. Thy staff is apt for it, I see;
Lend it a little while to me.
I'll dip it swift in seething glare.
Now, on your guard, ye masks, beware!
Snaps, sparks, and flashes, see it throw!
Thy staff already is aglow.
Whoever crowds too close to me
I'll straightway singe relentlessly.
And now upon my rounds I'll go.

Cries and Crowding.
Alas! it's up with us, oh woe!-
Away, escape! Escape who can!-
Fall back, fall back, thou hindmost man!
Hot sparks are flying in my face.-
I stagger from the glowing mace!-
Lost are we all, we all are lost!-
Back, back, ye masquerading host!
Back, senseless mob, don't come so nigh!
Had I but wings, away I'd fly!-

Plutus. Backward the circle round us shrinks,
And no one has been scorched, methinks.
Scattered by fright,
The crowd takes flight.
Yet, symbol of the reign of law,
A ring invisible I'll draw.
Herald. A glorious deed hast done tonight.
How can I thank thy sapient might?
Plutus. My noble friend, be patient yet;
Many a tumult still doth threat.
Avaritia. Here, if we like, we can look on
And view this circle at our leisure;
To stand in front always gives women pleasure
Where gaping or where nibbling's to be done.
Not yet so wholly rusty are my senses
But that a woman fair is always fair;
And since today it costs me no expenses,
We'll go a-courting with an easy air.
Because, though, in such over-crowded places
Not every ear distinctly hears all phrases,
I'll wisely try- I hope not vainly-
In pantomime to show my meaning plainly.
Hand, foot, and gesture will not now suffice,
So I must use a farcical device.
I'll treat the gold as were it mere wet clay;
This metal I can turn in any way.
Herald. The skinny fool! What is that he began?
Can he have humour, such a starveling man?
He's kneading all the gold to dough;
Beneath his hands it's soft, yet though
He squeeze it, roll it, as he will,
Misshapen is it even still.
He turns to the women there, and they
All scream and want to get away,
With gestures of disgust and loathing.
The mischievous rogue will stop at nothing.
I fear a joyous man is he
When he's offended decency.
Through silence I'll not lend my backing;
Give me my staff to send him packing.
Plutus. What threatens from without he does not see.
Let him go on with his tom-fooling;
There'll be no room soon for his drooling;
The Law is mighty, mightier Necessity.

Tumult and Song.
The wild host comes in all its might,
From woodland dell and mountain height.
They stride along- resist who can!
They celebrate their great god Pan.
They know indeed what none can guess;
Into the vacant ring they press.

Plutus. I know you well, you and your great god Pan!
Together ye've performed a daring plan.
I know right well what is not known to all
And ope the circle duly to their call.
Oh, may good fortune be decreed them!
The strangest thing may now befall,
They know not where their steps may lead them;
They have not looked ahead at all.

Savage Song.
Ye folk bedight, ye tinsel-stuff!
They're coming rude, they're coming rough;
In lofty leap, in speedy chase,
They come, a stout and sturdy race.

Fauns. The faun-host flocks
In merry round,
The oak-wreath bound
On curly locks;
A pair of finely pointed ears
Out from the curly head appears,
A stubby nose, face broad and flat.
With women no one's harmed by that;
And if the faun his paw advance,
The fairest will hardly refuse to dance.
A Satyr. The satyr now comes hopping in
With foot of goat and withered shin;
He needs to have them wiry-thin,
For chamois-like on mountain heights
To look around him he delights.
Braced by the air of freedom then,
He jeers at children, women, and men,
Who deep in the valley's smoke and stew
Fondly imagine they're living too,
While pure and undisturbed and lone
The world up there is all his own.
Gnomes. Tripping, a little crowd appears.
They do not like to go in pairs;
In mossy garb, with lamplet bright,
They move commingling, swift and light,
Where each his task can best perform,
Like firefly-ants, a crowding swarm.
They scurry, busy, here and there,
Bustling and working everywhere.
Kinship to kind "Good-men" we own,
As surgeons of the rocks are known,
The mountains high, go sapping them,
The swelling veins, go tapping them;
Metals we hurl on pile on pile,
With cheery hail- "Good Luck while,"- the while,
A greeting well-meant through and through.
We're friends of all good men and true.
Yet gold we bring and gold reveal
That men may pander and may steal,
That iron fail not his proud hand
Who ever wholesale murder planned.
He whom these three commandments fail to bother
Will pay no heed to any other.
For all that we are not to blame;
As we are patient, so be ye the same!
Giants. "The Wild Men of the Woods"- their name,
In the Hartz Mountains known to fame.
In nature's nakedness and might
They come, each one of giant height,
A fir tree's trunk in each right hand,
Around their loins a bulging band,
Apron of twigs and leaves uncouth;
Such guards the Pope has not, in truth.
Nymphs in chorus [surrounding GREAT PAN].
He's really here!-
Of this world-sphere
The All we fete
In Pan the Great.
Ye gayest ones, surround him here,
Dance madly, hov'ring round him here,
For since he's solemn and yet kind,
Man's happiness he has in mind.
Even beneath the azure, vaulted roof
He ever kept slumber far aloof;
Yet purling brooks seek him in quest
And soft airs cradle him to rest.
And when he sleeps at mid of day,
No leaflet stirs upon its spray;
Health-giving plants with balsam rare
Pervade the still and silent air.
Then may the nymph in joy not leap
And where she stood, she falls asleep.
But when at unexpected hour,
His voice is heard in all its power,
Like crack of lightning, roar of sea,
Then no one knows which way to flee.
Brave warriors into panic break,
And in the tumult heroes quake.
Hence honour to whom honour's due,
Hail him who led us here to you!

Deputation of Gnomes [to GREAT PAN].
When the treasure rich and shining,
Winds through clefts its thread-like way
And naught but the rod's divining
Can its labyrinths display,
Troglodytes in caverns spacious,
Under vaulted roofs we bide,
While in day's pure air thou, gracious,
All the treasures dost divide.
We discover here quite near us
Treasure rich, a fountain vein,
Aptly promising to bear us
More than one could hope to gain.
This thou mayst achieve at pleasure,
Take it, Sire, into thy care!
In thy hands doth every treasure
Yield the whole world blessings rare.
Plutus [to THE HERALD].
We must possess ourselves, serene in spirit,
And come what may must confidently bear it.
Still hast thou shown indeed a valiant soul,
But soon a thing most horrible will try it.
Stoutly men now and later will deny it.
Inscribe it truly in thy protocol.
Herald [grasping the staff which PLUTUS keeps in his hand].
The dwarfs lead Pan, the great god, nigher,
Quite gently, to the well of fire.
It seethes up from the deepest maw,
Then down again the flames withdraw,
And gloomy gapes the open jaw.
The foam and flame roll up again.
Complacent doth Great Pan remain,
Rejoicing in the wondrous sight,
While pearls of foam spurt left and right.
How can he in such wizardry confide?
He stoops down low to look inside.-
But now his beard is falling in!-
Whose can it be, that beardless chin?
His hand conceals it from our gaze.-
A great mishap is taking place.
The beard flies backward, all ablaze,
And kindles wreath and head and breast;
Turned into sorrow is the jest.-
To quench the fire they race and run,
But free from flames there is not one,
And as they slap and beat it too,
They only stir up flames anew;
In fiery flames entangled, caught,
A maskers' group is burned to naught.
But hark! what news is spreading here
From mouth to mouth, from ear to ear!
O evermore ill-fated Night,
How thou hast turned our bliss to blight!
Tomorrow morn will everywhere
Proclaim what no one likes to hear.
Yet everywhere I'll hear the cry:
"The Emperor suffers agony!"
Oh, would that something else were true!
The Emperor burns, his escort too.
Accursed who led him so astray,
Who bound about them resined spray,
Raging around with boisterous song,
Bringing to ruin all the throng.
O Youth, O Youth, and wilt thou never
Keep within proper bounds thy pleasure?
O Highness, Highness, wilt thou never
Use might and reason in due measure?
The mimic woods are catching fire,
The tongues of flame lick higher, higher,
Where netted rafters interlace;
A fiery doom threats all the place.
Now overflows our cup of woe,
And who shall save us I don't know.
The ashes of a night will be
All that was once rich majesty.
Plutus. Terror has enough been spread,
Let us now bring help instead!
Strike, thou hallowed staff, the ground
Till earth quiver and resound!
Fill thyself, O spacious air,
With cool fragrance everywhere.
Hither come, around us steaming,
Mist and clouds with moisture teeming,
Come and veil the rampant flame;
Cloudlets, whirl ye, drizzling, purl ye,
Hither glide ye, softly drenching,
Quelling everywhere and quenching;
Ye, who're moist, allaying, bright'ning,
Change to harmless summer lightning
All this empty fiery game!
And when spirits threat and lower,
Then let Magic show its power!
PLEASURE GARDEN
MORNING SUN

EMPEROR. COURTIERS.

FAUST and Mephistopheles, dressed becomingly, not
conspicuously, according to the mode; both kneel.

Faust. Pardon you, Sire, the flames and wizardry?
Emperor [beckoning him to rise].
Many such pleasantries I would like to see.
Presto! I stood within a glowing zone,
It seemed almost Pluto and I were one.
In coal-black night and yet with fires aglow
Lay an abyss. From many a vent below
Thousands of savage flames were upward whirling,
Into a single vault above me swirling,
Licking their tongues of flame against the dome's far height
Which now appeared and now was lost to sight.
Far, far away, through spiral shafts of flame
Peoples I saw, in moving files they came,
In a wide circle pressing on and on
And paying homage as they've always done.
Courtiers I recognized amid the splendour,
I seemed a prince over many a salamander.
Mephistopheles. That are you, Sire, since every element
Doth own you absolute to all intent.
Obedient have you now proved fire to be.
Where waves heave wildest, leap into the sea!
The pearl-strewn bottom you will scarcely tread
Ere a glorious billowing dome forms overhead.
You'll see there light-green rolling billows swelling,
Their edges purple, forming the fairest dwelling
Round you, the centre. Wander at your will,
The palaces attend you even still.
The very walls rejoice in life, in teeming,
Arrowy swarming, hither, thither streaming.
Sea-wonders push and dart along to win
The new soft glow but none may enter in.
The dragons, mottled, golden-scaled, are playing;
There gapes the shark but you laugh at his baying.
Though now the court surrounds you in delight,
Still such a throng has never met your sight.
Yet long you're not deprived of forms endearing;
The Nereids come curiously nearing
Your splendid palace in the cool of ocean,
The young with fish-like, shy, and wanton motion,
The old ones prudent. Thetis learns of this,
Gives her new Peleus hand and mouth to kiss.-
The seat, then, on Olympus' wide domain...
Emperor. Over the air I leave to you to reign;
Quite soon enough does one ascend that throne.
Mephistopheles. Earth, Lord Supreme, already is your own.
Emperor. What brought you here to ravish us with sights
Directly out of the Arabian Nights?
If like Scheherazade you are inventive,
Be sure of every favour and incentive.
Be near whenever- as is oft the case-
I grutch at this poor world of commonplace.
Steward [enters in haste]. Ah, Most Serene, in all my life I never
Thought I could give you news of such high favour
As this which richly blesses me
And drives me here almost in ecstasy.
Bill upon bill has now been squared,
The usurers' talons have been pared.
From hellish worry I am free!
In Heaven life can not happier be.
Commander-in-Chief [follows in haste].
Arrears are paid as they were due
And all the army's pledged anew;
The soldier feels his blood made over.
Landlords and wenches are in clover.
Emperor. How free you breathe, with breasts so lightened!
Your wrinkled foreheads, how they're brightened!
How you come in with eager speed!
Treasurer [appears]. Inquire of these who did the deed.
Faust. It's for the Chancellor to tell the story.
Chancellor [approaching slowly].
I'm blessed enough now when I'm old and hoary.
So hear and see the fateful, solemn leaf
Which into joy has transformed all our grief.

He reads.

"To all whom it concerns, let it be known:
Who hath this note, a thousand crowns doth own.
As certain pledge thereof shall stand
Vast buried treasure in the Emperor's land.
Provision has been made that ample treasure,
Raised straightway, shall redeem the notes at pleasure."
Emperor. I sense a crime, a monstrous, cheating lure!
Who dared to forge the Emperor's signature?
Is still unpunished such a breach of right?
Treasurer. Remember, Sire, yourself it was last night
That signed the note. You stood as mighty Pan,
The Chancellor came and spoke in words that ran:
"A lofty festal joy do for thyself attain:
Thy people's weal- a few strokes of the pen!"
These did you make, then thousand-fold last night
Conjurors multiplied what you did write;
And that straightway the good might come to all,
We stamped at once the series, large and small;
Tens, twenties, thirties, hundreds, all are there.
You can not think how glad the people were.
Behold your city, once half-dead, decaying,
Now full of life and joy, and swarming, playing!
Although your name has blessed the world of yore,
So gladly was it never seen before.
The alphabet is really now redundant;
In this sign each is saved to bliss abundant.
Emperor. My people take it for good gold, you say?
In camp, in court, sufficient as full pay?
Although amazed, still I must give assent.
Steward. The flight of notes we could nowise prevent;
Like lightning notes were scattered on the run.
The changers' shops open wide to everyone;
And there all notes are honoured, high and low,
With gold and silver- at a discount, though.
From there to butcher, baker, tavern hasting,
One-half the world seems thinking but of feasting,
The other in new raiment struts and crows;
The draper cuts the cloth, the tailor sews.
In cellars "Long live the Emperor!" is the toasting;
There platters clatter, there they're boiling, roasting.
Mephistopheles. Who all alone will down the terrace stray
Perceives the fairest in superb array;
With her proud peacock-fan she hides one eye
And looking for a note goes simpering by;
More swiftly than through eloquence and wit
Love's richest favour can be gained by it.
With purse and scrip one is no longer harried.
A notelet in one's breast is lightly carried;
With billets-doux quite snugly will it nestle.
The priest bears it devoutly in his missal.
The soldier, that he may the faster haste,
Lightens the girdle quickly round his waist.
Pardon, Your Majesty, if I may seem
To mete a lofty work but slight esteem.
Faust. Treasures in superfluity still sleep
Within your borders, buried deep,
And lie unused. Thought in its widest measure
Gives the most meagre bounds to such a treasure.
Imagination in its highest flight,
Strain as it may, can't soar to such a height.
Yet spirits, fit to fathom the unsounded,
Have boundless confidence in the unbounded.
Mephistopheles. Nor gold nor pearls are half as handy as
Such paper. Then a man knows what he has.
There is no need of higgling or exchanging;
In love and wine one can at will be ranging.
If you want metal, changers are at hand;
If lacking there, dig for a while the land.
Goblet and chain are auctioned off and sold;
Paper redeemed without delay in gold
Confounds the doubter who had scoffed and taunted.
This men demand, to metals they are wonted.
Ready at hand the Emperor's realm will hold
Henceforth enough of paper, jewels, gold.
Emperor. Our realm owes you this great prosperity;
As is the service, the reward should be.
Our empire's soil be trusted to your care,
The worthiest guardians of the treasures there.
You know the vast and well-preserved hoard,
And when men dig, it's you must give the word.
Become as one, ye masters of our treasure,
Fulfil your stations' dignities with pleasure
Here where in blest accord and unity
The upper and the lower world agree.
Treasurer. Twixt us no slightest strife shall cause division;
I love to have as colleague the magician.

Exit with FAUST.

Emperor. If now I shall endow each man of you,
Let each confess what use he'll put it to.
A Page [receiving]. I'll joy to live, be glad and gay.
Another Page [likewise]. My love shall have a chain and rings
today.
A Chamberlain [accepting].
Wine twice as good shall henceforth down me trickle.
Another Chamberlain [likewise]. I feel the dice inside my pocket
tickle.
A Banneret [thoughtfully]. From debt I'll make my land sand castle
free.
Another Banneret [likewise]. I'll add this treasure to my treasury.
Emperor. I hoped for joy and heart for new emprise,
But knowing you one can your course surmise.
Well do I see, with all this treasure-store
You still remain just as you were before.
Fool [approaching]. You're scattering favours, grant me some, I
pray.
Emperor. Alive again? You'd soon drink them away.
Fool. The magic leaves! I don't quite comprehend-
Emperor. Of course, for you'd put them to some bad end.
Fool. Still more drop there, I don't know what to do.
Emperor. Just pick them up, I let them fall for you.

Exit.

Fool. Five thousand crowns are mine? How unexpected!
Mephistopheles. Two-legged wineskin, are you resurrected?
Fool. That happens oft but like this never yet.
Mephistopheles. You are so glad you're breaking out in sweat.
Fool. Is that the same as cash? Look, are you sure?
Mephistopheles. What throat and belly want it will procure.
Fool. And cattle can I buy and house and land?
Mephistopheles. Of course! Just bid and they will be at hand.
Fool. Castle with wood, chase, fish-brook?
Mephistopheles. On my word!
I'd like to see you as a stern Milord!
Fool. Tonight a landed owner I shall sit!

Exit.

Mephistopheles [solus]. Who still will have a doubt of our fool's
wit?
A DARK GALLERY

FAUST. MEPHISTOPHELES.

Mephistopheles. Why draw me into this dark gallery?
Is not in there enough of sport,
Enough of fun and fraud and raillery
Amid the crowded motley of the court?
Faust. Don't speak of tricks! Your jests are old and hoary;
Down to the very soles you've worn that story;
But now you're going to and fro to flee
From having any talk with me.
I am tormented further things to do;
The Chamberlain is urging and the Steward too.
The Emperor orders- straightway must it be-
Both Helena and Paris will he see,
Of man and woman in their true ideal
Demands to see the forms distinct and real.
To work! I gave my word- I must not break it.
Mephistopheles. A foolish promise- fool you were to make it.
Faust. Whither your powers lead us, friend,
You have not well reflected;
We first have made him rich- no end!
Now to amuse him we're expected.
Mephistopheles. You fancy these things easy to arrange.
Here where we stand, the steps are steeper.
You grapple with a realm most strange,
And wantonly will plunge in debt still deeper.
You think that Helena is summoned here
As quickly as the paper spectres were.
With witches' witchery and ghostly ghost,
With changeling dwarfs I'm ready at my post;
But devils' darlings, though one may not flout them,
As heroines no one goes mad about them.
Faust. There you go harping on the same old chord!
Into uncertainty you always lead us,
Sire of all hindrances that can impede us;
For each new help you want a new reward.
Mutter a little and the deed is done;
She will be here ere I can turn me.
Mephistopheles. The heathen-folk do not concern me.
They occupy a hell that's all their own.
But help there is.
Faust. Quick! Tell its history!
Mephistopheles. Not glad do I reveal a loftier mystery-
Enthroned sublime in solitude are goddesses;
Around them is no place, a time still less;
To speak of them embarrasses.
They are the Mothers!
Faust [terrified]. Mothers!
Mephistopheles. Do you fear?
Faust. The Mothers! Mothers! Strange the word I hear.
Mephistopheles. Strange is it. Goddesses, to men unknown,
Whom we are loath to name or own.
Deep must you dig to reach their dwelling ever;
You are to blame that now we need their favour.
Faust. Whither the way?
Mephistopheles. No way! To the Unexplorable,
Never to be explored; to the Unimplorable,
Never to be implored. Are in the mood?
There are no locks, no bars are to be riven;
Through solitudes you will be whirled and driven.
Can you imagine wastes and solitude?
Faust. I think that you might save yourself such chatter;
It savours of the witch's-kitchen patter
After a long, long interlude.
Was I not forced to live with men?
Learn the inane teach the inane?
If I spoke wisely, true to my conviction,
Then doubly loud resounded contradiction.
Indeed, from mankind, so perversely given,
To solitude and deserts I was driven;
Till not to be too lone and all-forsaken,
At last to devil's company I've taken.
Mephistopheles. And had you swum to ocean's farthest verge
And utter boundlessness beheld,
Still yonder you'd have seen surge upon surge;
Although impending doom your fear compelled,
You'd have seen something. Dolphins you'd have seen
Cleaving the hushed ocean's emerald-green,
Have seen the moving clouds, sun, moon, and star.
Naught will you see in that vast Void afar,
Nor hear your footstep when it's pressed,
Nor find firm ground where you can rest.
Faust. You speak as of all mystagogues the chief,
Whoever brought trustful neophytes to grief;
Only reversed. Into the Void I'm sent,
That art and power I may there augment.
You treat me like the cat's-paw you desire
To snatch the chestnuts for you from the fire,
Come, let us fathom it, whatever may befall,
In this your Naught I hope to find my All.
Mephistopheles. I praise you, truly, ere you part from me,
Since that you understand the Devil I can see.
Here, take this key.
Faust. That tiny, little thing!
Mephistopheles. Seize and esteem it, see what it may bring!
Faust. It's growing in my hand! it flashes, glows!
Mephistopheles. Will you see now what blessing it bestows?
The key will scent the right place from all others;
Follow it down, 'twill lead you to the Mothers.
Faust [shuddering]. The Mothers! Like a blow it strikes my ear!
What is that word that I don't like to hear?
Mephistopheles. So narrow-minded, scared by each new word?
Will you but hear what you've already heard?
Let naught disturb you, though it strangely rings,
You! long since wonted to most wondrous things.
Faust. And yet in torpor there's no gain for me;
The thrill of awe is man's best quality.
Although the world may stifle every sense,
Enthralled, man deeply senses the Immense.
Mephistopheles. Descend, then! I might also tell you: Soar!
It's all the same. Escape from the Existent
To phantoms' unbound realms far distant!
Delight in what long since exists no more!
Like filmy clouds the phantoms glide along.
Brandish the key, hold off the shadowy throng.
Faust [inspired]. Good! Gripping it, I feel new strength arise,
My breast expands. On, to the great emprise!
Mephistopheles. When you at last a glowing tripod see,
Then in the deepest of all realms you'll be.
You'll see the Mothers in the tripod's glow,
Some of them sitting, others stand and go,
As it may chance. Formation, transformation,
Eternal Mind's eternal re-creation.
Images of all creatures hover free,
They will not see you, only wraiths they see.
So, then, take courage, for the danger's great.
Go to that tripod, do not hesitate,
And touch it with the key!

FAUST assumes a decidedly commanding attitude with the key.

Mephistopheles [observing him]. So- it is well
'Twill come and like a slave obey your spell.
Calmly you'll rise, upborne by fortune rare,
And have the tripod here ere they're aware.
And when you've brought it hither, you can cite
Hero and heroine from the realms of night,
The first to face that deed and venture on it.
It's done and you're the one who will have done it.
Then must the incense-cloud, by magic hand,
Turn into gods, as gods before you stand.
Faust. And now what?
Mephistopheles. Downward let your being strain!
Stamping, sink hence and, stamping, rise again!

FAUST stamps and sinks out of sight.

Mephistopheles. I only hope he'll profit from the key!
Will he come back? I'm curious to see.
BRIGHTLY LIGHTED HALLS

EMPEROR and PRINCES.

The Court moving about.

Chamberlain [to MEPHISTOPHELES].
The spirit-scene you promised still is owing.
To work! Impatient is our master growing.
Steward. A moment since His Grace inquired of me.
Delay not! Don't disgrace His Majesty!
Mephistopheles. Upon that errand has my comrade gone;
He surely knows what's to be done.
He works secludedly and still,
And all his powers he perforce engages.
Who'd raise that treasure, Beauty, at his will,
Requires the highest art, Magic of Sages!
Steward. The kind of arts you need, that is all one;
It is the Emperor's will that it be done.
A Blonde [to MEPHISTOPHELES].
One word, sir! See my face without a spot,
But thus in tiresome summer it is not!
Then brownish-red there sprout a hundred freckles
Which vex my lily skin with ugly speckles.
A cure!
Mephistopheles. You radiant darling, what a pity,
Spotted in May-time like a panther-kitty.
Take frog-spawn, toads' tongues, cohobate them,
And carefully, at full moon, distillate them.
When the moon's waning, spread the mixture on,
And when the spring has come, the spots are gone.
A Brunette. To fawn around you, see the crowd advancing!
I beg a remedy! A chilblained foot
Hinders me much in walking and in dancing
And makes me awkward even when I salute.
Mephistopheles. Pray let me tread upon it with my foot.
Brunette. Well, I suppose that happens between lovers.
Mephistopheles. In my tread, child, a greater meaning hovers.
Like unto like, whatever pain one undergo!
Foot healeth foot, so is it with each member.
Come here! Give heed! Don't you tread me, remember!
Brunette [Screaming]. Oh, how that stings! you did tread hard!
Oh! Oh!
'Twas like a horse's hoof.
Mephistopheles. With this cure you can go.
Dance to your heart's content, now you are able,
Or foot it with your sweetheart 'neath the table.
Lady [pressing forward]. Let me go through! Too painful are my
sorrows;
Deep in my heart this anguish burns and burrows.
Till yesterday his bliss hung on my glances
But now he turns his back; only her talk entrances.
Mephistopheles. That's serious, but listen carefully.
Press up to him quite softly, take
This bit of charcoal, and then on him make
A mark on sleeve or cloak or shoulder as may be;
Remorse will pierce him to the very core.
The coal, however, you must straightway swallow,
Nor let a drop of wine or water follow;
Tonight you'll have him sighing at your door.
Lady. It is not poison, is it?
Mephistopheles [indignant]. Respect where it is due!
For such a coal you'd travel many a mile;
It comes here from a funeral pile
Such as whose flames we once more fiercely blew.
Page. I am in love, they do not take me seriously.
Mephistopheles [aside]. Whom I am now to listen to, I do not see.

To the PAGE.

Let not the youngest maid your fancy fetter;
Those on in years know how to prize you better.

Others crowd up.

Still more and more? It is a brawl, in sooth!
I'll help myself at last with naked truth,
The worst of aids! Great is my misery.-
O Mothers, Mothers! Do let Faust go free!

Gazing around him.

The lights are burning dimly in the hall,
At once the Court starts forward, one and all.
I see them file according to their grades
Through distant galleries and long arcades.
Now they're assembling in that ample space,
The old Knight's Hall; yet hardly all find place.
The spacious walls with tapestries are rich,
While armour decorates each nook and niche.
Here is no need, methinks, of magic incantation,
Ghosts will come here without an invitation.
HALL OF THE KNIGHTS

Dim illumination. The EMPEROR and Court have entered.

Herald. Mine ancient office of announcing plays
Is marred by spirits' mystic interference;
In vain one dares in reasonable ways
To fathom their mysterious appearance.
The chairs are placed, the seats are ready all;
The Emperor is seated just before the wall;
Upon the arras there he may with ease behold
The glorious battles that men fought of old.
Now Emperor and Court are seated here;
The benches crowd together in the rear;
And lovers in this spirit-hour's uncanny gloom
Have found beside their loved ones lovely room.
And so, since all have duly taken places,
We're ready, let the spirits come and face us!

Trumpets.

Astrologer. Now let the drama start without delay.
Our Sire commands! Ye walls, give way!
Naught hinders now. Here magic doth conspire;
The arras rolls away as if by fire.
The wall is splitting, turning in the gloom,
A deep stage seems to be appearing,
A light mysterious to be nearing,
And I ascend to the proscenium.
Mephistopheles [rising to view in the prompter's box].
I hope for favour here from all and each,
For promptings are the Devil's art of speech.

To the ASTROLOGER.

You know the tempo of the stars on high;
You'll understand my whispering masterly.
Astrologer. By magic might before us doth appear,
Massive enough, an ancient temple here.
Like Atlas who upheld the sky of old,
Columns enough, in rows, you can behold.
Well for the weight of stone may they suffice,
Since two could bear a mighty edifice.
Architect. So that's antique! I can't say I would praise it;
Top-heavy, clumsy, is the way to phrase it.
Rude is called noble, awkward great; far more
I love slim shafts that boundless soar.
High pointed arches lift the soul on high,
Such edifices most do edify.
Astrologer. Receive with reverent awe star-granted hours
By magic's spells enthralled be Reason's powers,
And in its stead, arising far and free,
Reign glorious, daring Phantasy!
What you desired so boldly, be it now perceived;
It is impossible, therefore to be believed.

FAUST rises to view on the other side of the proscenium.

Astrologer. In priestly robe and wreathed, a wonder-man!
Who'll now fulfil what he in faith began,
A tripod with him from the depths below.
Now from the bowl the incense-perfumes flow.
He girds himself, the lofty work to bless;
Henceforth there can be nothing but success.
Faust [in the grand manner].
In your name, Mothers! ye who have your throne
In boundless space, eternally alone,
Yet not alone. Around your heads there waver
Life's images, astir, yet lifeless ever.
What once has been, in radiance supernal,
It's stirring there, for it would be eternal,
And ye allot it, Powers who all things sway,
To vaulted night, to canopy of day.
On some the lovely stream of life lays hold,
Others are sought by the magician bold;
Boldly in rich profusion he displays
The marvel whereon each would like to gaze.
Astrologer. The glowing key doth scarcely touch the bowl,
Over the prospect misty vapours roll;
They creep along, then cloud-like on they fare,
Spread out, round off, entwine, they part, they pair.
Now note a mystic masterpiece! For lo!
The vaporous clouds make music as they go.
Aerial tones bring forth- what can it be?
While they proceed, all turns to melody.
The columned shaft, the very triglyph, rings;
Yea, I believe that all the temple sings.
The mist is sinking; from the filmy haze
A handsome youth steps forth with measured pace.
Here ends my task, I do not need to name him;
As gentle Paris who would not proclaim him?

PARIS steps forth.

A Lady. What glorious, blooming youth and strength I see!
A Second Lady. Fresh as a peach, as full of juice, is he!
A Third Lady. The finely chiselled, sweetly swelling lip!
A Fourth Lady. From such a cup how would you like to sip?
A Fifth Lady. He's handsome, yes, and yet not quite refined.
A Sixth Lady. A bit more graceful might he be, I find.
A Knight. I think I see him when a shepherd boy. He's wearing
No traces of a prince and naught of courtly bearing.
Another Knight. Oh, well! Half nude the youth is fair to look upon,
But we must see him with his armour on.
A Lady. He seats him gently and with easy grace.
A Knight. You'd find his lap, perchance, a pleasant place?
Another Lady. He lays his arm so lightly over his head.
A Chamberlain. That's not allowed! How thoroughly ill-bred!
A Lady. You lords can always find some fault to cavil at.
Chamberlain. Before the very Emperor to stretch himself like that!
A Lady. He's only playing, thinks he's quite alone.
Chamberlain. A play too should be courteous near the throne.
A Lady. Sleep captures now the charming youth completely!
Chamberlain. And now he'll snore, quite properly and meetly!
A Young Lady [enraptured].
What fragrance with the incense-stream is blending,
Refreshment to my inmost bosom sending!
An Older Lady. A zephyr pierces deep into my soul, in truth!
It comes from him.
A Very Old Lady. It is the bloom of youth,
Ambrosia-like within the boy distilling
And all the atmosphere around us filling.

HELENA appears.

Mephistopheles. So that is she! She'd not disturb my rest;
Pretty indeed, but still I'm not impressed.
Astrologer. For me right now there's nothing more to do;
I see and honourably confess it true.
The Fair One comes, and had I tongues of fire!-
Always did Beauty many songs inspire.
Who sees her is enrapt! and far too blessed
For human lot the man who her possessed.
Faust. Have I still eyes? Is Beauty's spring, outpouring,
Revealed most richly to my inmost soul?
My dread path brought me to this loftiest goal!
Void was the world and barred to my exploring!
What is it now since this my priesthood's hour?
Worth wishing for, firm-based, a lasting dower!
Vanish from me my every vital power
If I forsake thee, treacherous to my duty!
The lovely form that once my fancy captured,
That in the magic glass enraptured,
Was but a foam-born phantom of such beauty!-
To thee alone I render up with gladness
The very essence of my passion,
Fancy, desire, love, worship, madness!
Mephistopheles [from the prompter's box).
Be calm! Don't drop your role in such a fashion!
An Elderly Lady. Tall, well-formed, but her head's too small for me.
A Fairly Young Lady. Just see her foot! How could it clumsier be?
A Diplomat. I have seen princesses of this same kind!
She's beautiful from head to foot, I find.
A Courtier. She nears the sleeper, cunningly demure.
A Lady. How hideous by that form so young and pure!
A Poet. By her rare beauty he is beamed upon.
A Lady. A picture! Luna and Endymion!
A Poet. Quite right! and now the goddess seems to sink,
Bends over him as if his breath to drink.
How enviable!- A kiss!- The cup is full.
A Duenna. Before the crowd! My word! That is too cool.
Faust. A fearful favour for the youth!
Mephistopheles. Be still
And let the phantom do all that it will.
A Courtier. She steals away, light-footed. He awakes.
A Lady. Just as I thought, another look she takes.
A Courtier. He is astounded, thinks a wonder doth occur.
A Lady. But what she sees, no wonder is to her.
A Courtier. She turns around to him with charming grace.
A Lady. I see, she'll take him now into her school;
Stupid is every man in such a case.
He thinks, I guess, that he's the first- the fool!
A Knight. She'll pass with me! A fine, majestic air!
A Lady. The courtesan! How vulgar, I declare!
A Page. Where he is now, oh, would that I were there!
A Courtier. In such a net who would not fain be caught?
A Lady. Through many hands has gone that jewel rare;
Even the gilding's rather worse for wear.
Another Lady. From her tenth year she has been good for naught.
A Knight. Each makes the best his own as chance obtains;
I'd be contented with these fair remains.
A Dryasdust Scholar. I see her plainly and yet, frankly, I can see
That one may doubt if she the right one be.
What's present always causes obfuscation;
I like to cling to written attestation.
And there I read that, soon as she was sighted,
The Trojan greybeards all were most delighted.
Methinks, that fits the case here perfectly.
I am not young and yet she pleases me.
Astrologer. A youth no more! A man, heroic, brave,
Embraces her who scarce herself can save.
Strong-armed, he lifts her high in air.
Will he, then, bear her off?
Faust. Rash fool, beware!
You dare? You hear not? Halt! It is too much!
Mephistopheles. Why, this mad phantom-play, you've made it such!
Astrologer. But one word more! From all we've seen today,
I call the piece The Rape of Helena.
Faust. What! "Rape?" Fellow, am I for naught here?
This key do I not hold it in my hand,
I whom through stormy solitudes it brought here,
Through waves of horror to this solid land?
Here do I plant my foot! Realities are here,
Here strife with spirits may the spirit dare
And for itself the great twin-realm prepare.
Though she was far, how can she nearer be?
I'll save her and then doubly mine is she.
I dare! Ye Mothers, Mothers! grant this favour!
Who once has known her can renounce her never!
Astrologer. What are you doing, Faustus, Faustus! With what might
He seizes her! The form is fading from our sight.
Toward the youth he turns the key, and lo!
He's touching him!- Now! it is done! Ah, woe on woe!

Explosion. FAUST lies on the ground. The phantoms dissolve in
vapour.

Mephistopheles [taking FAUST on his shoulder].
So there it is! To deal with fools is evil
And in the end it even harms the Devil.

Darkness, tumult.
ACT II

A HIGH-VAULTED, NARROW, GOTHIC CHAMBER
FORMERLY FAUST'S, UNALTERED

Mephistopheles [appears from behind a curtain. As he raises the
curtain and looks back, FAUST is seen stretched out on an
old-fashioned bed].

Lie there, poor wretch! seduced, unwise,
Scarce to be rescued from Love's chain!
Whom Helena doth paralyze,
His reason he'll not soon regain.

Looking around him.

I look around and through the glimmer
Unchanged, uninjured all appears;
Methinks the coloured window-panes are dimmer,
The cobwebs have increased with years.
The ink is dry, the paper brown and sere,
Yet all is in its place, in very fact;
Even the pen's still lying here
Which Faust used when he signed the pact.
Aye, deeper in the pen is lurking still
A trace of blood I lured him on to spill.
To find a relic so unique as this
Would be some great collector's highest bliss.
From its old hook the old fur coat's half falling,
Those merry jests of mine recalling
Which once I taught that lad as truth,
Which still may nourish his ingenuous youth.
Rough, fur-warm cloak, encased in you,
A great desire comes on me truly
To show off as a proud professor newly,
As men think they've a perfect right to do.
The learned know how to attain that level;
It is an art long since lost by the Devil.

He shakes the fur coat which he has taken down. Crickets,
beetles, and moths fly out.

Chorus of Insects.
Hail! welcome thy coming,
Thou patron of yore!
We're flying and humming
And know thee once more.
All singly, in quiet,
Didst plant us, and lo!
In thousands, O Father,
We dance to and fro.
The rogue in the bosom
Is deeply concealed;
The insects in fur coats
Are sooner revealed.
Mephistopheles. With what surprising joy this youthful brood I
view!
Aye, only sow, you'll harvest when the time is due.
I'll give the old fur coat a second clout;
Still here and there another flutters out.
Up and about, ye darlings, helter-skelter,
And quickly in a thousand nooks seek shelter:
Where ancient pasteboard boxes stand,
In yellowed parchment here at hand,
Where dusty shards of old pots lie,
In yonder death's-head's hollow eye.
Amid such trash and mouldering life
Crickets and crotchets must be rife.

He slips into the fur coat.

Come, cloak my shoulders as of yore,
Head of the house as heretofore.
Yet boots it little so to name me;
Where are the people to acclaim me?

He pulls the bell which gives out a shrill, penetrating sound,
making the halls tremble and the doors fly open.

Famulus [tottering down the long, dark corridor].
What a clanging! What a quaking!
Stairs are rocking, walls are shaking!
Through the windows' motley quiver
I see summer lightning shiver.
Over me cracks the ancient flooring,
Down come lime and rubbish pouring;
And the door, securely bolted,
Magic power has open jolted.
There! How terrible! A giant
Stands in Faust's old fur, defiant!
At his look, his beck, his winking,
On my knees I'm near to sinking.
Shall I stay? or shall I flee?
Oh, what will become of me?
Mephistopheles [beckoning].
Come here, my friend! Your name is Nicodemus.
Famulus. Most worthy sir! That is my name- Oremus.
Mephistopheles. That we'll omit!
Famulus. You know me! What a thrill!
Mephistopheles. I know you well, old and a student still,
Moss-covered sir! Also a learned man
Still studies on since there's naught else he can.
A moderate house of cards one builds him so;
The greatest mind does not complete it, though.
And yet your master! Great his gifts and fame;
Who does not know good Doctor Wagner's name?
First in the learned world! 'Tis he alone, they say,
Who holds the world together; every day
He proves that he is wisdom's multiplier.
Hearers and listeners who eagerly aspire
To universal knowledge, round him flock.
None from the rostrum can shine meeter;
He handles keys as doth St. Peter;
Lower and Upper, both he can unlock.
Like his- as Wagner glows and sparkles-
No other's fame can hold its ground.
The very name of Faustus darkles;
Wagner alone has sought and found.
Famulus. Pardon, good sir, for asking your attention
The while I make an humble intervention:
With what you've said there can be no dissension,
But modesty is his allotted part.
Since that great man's mysterious disappearing
He knows not where to turn in his despairing;
For Faust's return he prays with all his heart,
And thence for weal and solace. None may enter
The room which Doctor Faustus left. Forlorn,
Untouched, it waits its lord's return.
To enter it I scarcely dare to venture.
What aspect of the stars must now appear?
It seemed to me as if the stout walls quivered,
The door-posts trembled, bolts were shivered,
Else you yourself could not have come in here.
Mephistopheles. Where has the man gone? Where is he?
Lead me to him! Bring him to me!
Famulus. Ah, sir! Too strict his orders are a bit,
I know not if I dare to venture it.
Month after month to great work he's been giving,
In stillest stillness he's been living.
The daintiest of men of learning
Looks now as if he had been charcoal-burning,
His face all black from ears to nose,
His eyes all red from flames he blows.
Each moment for the next he longs;
His music is the clang of tongs.
Mephistopheles. And shall he entrance now deny me?
I'll speed his luck- just let him try me!

FAMULUS goes out, MEPHISTOPHELES Sits down gravely.

Scarce am I settled here at rest,
When yonder stirs a well-known guest.
But now most up-to-date is he;
He'll brag and swagger boundlessly.
Bachelor of Arts [storming along the corridor].
Gate and door I find are opeing!
Well, at least one can be hoping
That no more in mould unfitting
Men alive, yet dead, are sitting,
Pining, rotting, mortifying,
And of living still be dying.
Here each wall and each partition
Bends down, sinking to perdition.
If we hence don't soon betake us,
Ruin dire will overtake us.
I am bold, no one can match me,
Yet no farther will one catch me.
But today what am I learning!
Many years ago, a yearning
Freshman, I came hither, fluttering,
Anxious and abashed and stuttering.
Here I trusted long-beards' tattle,
Edified me on their prattle.
Into heavy, dry tomes reaching,
What they knew they lied in teaching,
Taught without themselves believing,
Me, themselves, of life bereaving.
What! there in the cell off yonder,
Dimly-lit, one sits asunder!
Stranger still, as I draw nearer,
Sits he there, the brown fur-wearer,
As I left him, piece for piece,
Still in that old shaggy fleece!
Subtle then he seemed to be,
Not yet understood by me,
But today 'twill not avail him.
Up and on now to assail him!

If, ancient sir, your bald head, sidewards bending,
Has into Lethe's dreary waters not been drawn,
Acknowledge now your pupil hither wending
Who academic rods has quite outgrown.
I find you still as then when I began;
But I am here again, another man!
Mephistopheles. I'm glad brought you with my tinkling.
The other time I valued you quite high;
Even in the worm, the chrysalis, an inkling
Is of the future, gaily-coloured butterfly.
Curls and a fine lace-collar wearing,
You showed a child-like pleasure in your bearing.
I guess you never wore a queue?
I see, today cropped like a Swede are you.
You look quite brave and resolute,
But pray don't go home absolute.
Bachelor of Arts.
Old sir! there on the same old desk you're leaning,
But think how time runs on today
And spare your words of double meaning;
We watch now in a very different way.
Then with an honest stripling you were toying,
Succeeded too, but little art employing.
Today no one will venture that, in sooth.
Mephistopheles. If, unadulterate, one says to youth
What does not please the callow brood- the truth!
And later after many a tide
They learn it painfully on their own hide,
Each fancies then it came from his own head;
"The Master was a fool!" is what is said.
Bachelor of Arts.
Or rogue perhaps! What teacher has the grace
To tell the truth directly to our face?
To simple children each knows what to say,
Add or subtract, now grave, now wise and gay.
Mephistopheles. There is, indeed, a time to learn;
You're ready now to teach, as I discern.
For many a moon and now and then a sun
A rich experience you have doubtless won.
Bachelor of Arts. Experience! Mere foam and fluff!
A peer of mind? No trace of that is showing.
Confess: what men have ever known is stuff
And absolutely not worth knowing...
Mephistopheles [after a pause].
I long have thought so, but I was a fool;
Now to myself I seem right flat and dull.
Bachelor of Arts. Good! That has a reasonable sound;
A greybeard talking sense at last is found!
Mephistopheles. I sought a hidden treasure, one of gold;
'Twas hideous coals when all my search was done.
Bachelor of Arts. Confess it then! Your skull, now bald and old,
Is worth no more than yonder hollow one.
Mephistopheles [good-humouredly].
You're ruder, friend, perhaps than you mean quite.
Bachelor of Arts. In German people lie when they're polite.
Mephistopheles [moving nearer and nearer toward the proscenium in
his wheeled-chair, to the spectators].
Here I'm deprived of light and air. I wonder
Could I find refuge with you people yonder?
Bachelor of Arts. It is presumption that men old and hoar
Seek to be something when they are no more.
Man's life lives in his blood and where, forsooth,
Does blood so stir as in the veins of youth?
Ah, that is living blood, with vigour rife,
Creating newer life from its own life.
There all is stirring, there is something done,
The weak fall out, the capable press on.
While half the world we've brought beneath our sway,
What have you done? Thought, nodded, dreamed away,
Considered plan on plan- and nothing won.
It's certain! Age is but an ague cold,
Chill with its fancies of distress and dread.
Once a man's thirty, he's already old,
He is indeed as good as dead.
'Twere best to kill him right away.
Mephistopheles. The Devil, here, has nothing more to say.
Bachelor of Arts. Unless I will it, no devil can there be.
Mephistopheles [aside]. The Devil, though, will trip you presently.
Bachelor of Arts. This is youth's noblest message and most fit!
The world was not till I created it.
'Twas I that led the sun up from the sea;
The moon began its changeful course with me.
The day put on rich garments, me to meet;
The earth grew green and blossomed, me to greet.
At my behest in that primeval night
The stars unveiled their splendour to my sight.
Who, if not I, your own deliverance wrought
From fetters of Philistine, cramping thought?
I, as my spirit bids me, with delight
I follow onward mine own inner light.
Swift I proceed with mine own raptured mind,
Glory before me, darkness far behind.

Exit.

Mephistopheles. Original, in all your glory take your way!
How would true insight make you grieve!
What wise or stupid thing can man conceive
That was not thought in ages passed away?
Danger from him will cause us little bother,
He will be changed when a few years have passed;
Though must within the cask may raise a pother,
It turns to wine no less at last.

To the younger portion of the audience who do not applaud.

I see my words have left you cold;
Good children, I'll not take it evil.
Remember that the Devil's old;
Grow old, to understand the Devil.
LABORATORY

In the style of the Middle Ages; scattered, clumsy apparatus
for fantastic purposes

Wagner [at the furnace]. The bell resounds with fearful clangour,
The sooty walls thrill its vibration.
No longer can remain uncertain
My great, most earnest expectation.
Darkness is lifting like a curtain.
Within the phial's inmost chamber
It's glowing like a living ember,
Yea, like a glorious carbuncle, gleaming
And flashing, through the darkness streaming.
A clear white light comes into view!
Oh, may it not escape once more!-
Ah, God! what's rattling at the door?
Mephistopheles [entering]. Welcome! I mean it well with you.
Wagner [anxiously]. Welcome in this auspicious hour!

Softly.

Don't speak or even breathe, though, I implore!
Achieved is soon a glorious undertaking.
Mephistopheles [more softly]. What is it, then?
Wagner [more softly]. A man is in the making!
Mephistopheles. A man? And, pray, what lovesick pair
Have you shut in the chimney-flue?
Wagner. May God forbid! Begetting, as men used to do,
Both vain and senseless we declare.
The tender point whence life used to begin,
The gracious outward urgence from within,
To take and give, to have its likeness known,
Near and remote alike to make its own-
All that has lost its former dignity.
Whereas delighted with it still the beast may be,
A man with his great gifts must henceforth win
A higher, even higher origin.

Turning toward the furnace.

It flashes, see! Now truly we may hold
That if from substances a hundredfold,
Through mixture- for on mixture all depends-
Man's substance gently be consolidated,
In an alembic sealed and segregated,
And properly be cohobated,
In quiet and success the labour ends.

Turning toward the furnace again.

'Twill be! The mass is working clearer,
Conviction gathers, truer, nearer.
What men as Nature's mysteries would hold,
All that to test by reason we make bold,
And what she once was wont to organize,
That we bid now to crystallize.
Mephistopheles. Whoever lives long learns full many things;
By naught in this world can he ever be surprised.
I've seen already in my wanderings
Many a mortal who was crystallized.
Wagner [hitherto constantly attentive to the phial].
It rises, flashes, gathers on;
A moment, and the deed is done.
A great design at first seems mad; but we
Henceforth will laugh at chance in procreation,
And such a brain that is to think transcendently
Will be a thinker's own creation.

Looking at the phial rapturously.

The glass resounds with lovely might;
It dims, it clears; life must begin to be.
A dainty figure greets my sight;
A pretty manikin I see.
What more do we or does the world want now?
The mystery's within our reach.
Come, hearken to this sound, and listen how
It turns to voice, it turns to speech.
Homunculus [in the phial, to WAGNER].
Well, Daddy! how are you? It was no jest.
Come, press me tenderly upon your breast,
But not too hard, for fear the glass might shatter.
That is the property of matter:
For what is natural the All has place;
What's artificial needs restricted space.

To MEPHISTOPHELES.

How now, Sir Cousin, rogue, are you here too?
And at the proper moment? Many thanks to you!
You've been led here by some good destiny.
The while I'm living, active must I be.
Fain would I gird me for the work straightway;
You are adroit and can curtail my way.
Wagner. But one word more! I'm shamed that answers fail me,
When with their problems young and old assail me.
For instance: no one's grasped how, each with either,
Body and soul can fit so well together,
Hold fast as if not to be separated,
Yet each by other daily vexed and hated.
And then-
Mephistopheles. Stop? I would rather ask if he
Can say why man and wife so ill agree?
This point, my friend, will nevermore be clear.
The little chap wants work to do and it is here.
Homunculus. What's to be done?
Mephistopheles [pointing to a side door].
Your talents here you're to employ!
Wagner [looking steadfastly into the phial].
In truth you are the very loveliest boy!

The side door opens and FAUST is seen stretched out
on the couch.

Homunculus [astonished].
Significant!

The phial slips out of WAGNER'S hands, hovers above FAUST and
illumines him.

'With beauty girt!- Clear waters moving
In a dense grove and women who undress;
Fairest of forms!- The picture is improving.
But one outshines the rest in loveliness,
From noblest heroes, nay, from gods, descended.
In the translucent pool her foot she laves;
The living flame of her sweet form is blended
With th' cooling, clinging crystal of the waves.
But what a noise of pinions swiftly dashing,
And in the pool what swishing, splashing!
The maidens flee abashed, but she, the queen,
With calm composure gazes on the scene.
With pleasure proud and womanly she sees
The swan-prince nestle fondly at her knees,
Importunate, yet tame. He grows more daring.
But swiftly upward floats a vapour pale
And covers with its closely woven veil
A scene most lovely and beyond comparing.
Mephistopheles. How many tales you can relate!
Small as you are, in fancies you are great.
I can see naught-
Homunculus. Of course. You from the North,
In ages dark and drear brought forth,
In all the murk of knighthood and of papistry,
How could your vision, then, be clear and free?
Only in gloom are you at home.

Looking around.

Bemouldered stone-work, dingy, horrid,
With pointed arches low and florid!
If this man wakes, there'll be new things to dread;
At once upon the spot he will lie dead.
Prophetic dreams of wood and springs beguile him,
Of swans and naked beauties. Here,
In such a place, how could he reconcile him,
Which I, the most adaptable, scarce bear?
Now off with him!
Mephistopheles. Whither I'll hear with pleasure.
Homunculus. Command the warrior to the fight,
Lead forth the maid to tread a measure;
Then all is fitting, all is right.
Just now- my memory brings to light-
Is Classical Walpurgis Night.
For him could be no happier event
Than to be taken to his element.
Mephistopheles. Of that I've never chanced to hear.
Homunculus. How would it come, pray, to your ear?
Only romantic ghosts are known to you;
A ghost that's genuine must be classic too.
Mephistopheles. But whither, then, are we to travel? Tell me!
Your antique cronies now repel me.
Homunculus. Satan, northwest is where you're wont to play,
But to the southeast we will sail today.
Along a great plain is Peneus flowing free,
Its silent bays shadowed by bush and tree.
To mountain gorges sweeps the level view,
Above it stands Pharsalus old and new.
Mephistopheles. Alack! have done! and call not old dissension
'Twixt tyranny and slavery to my attention.
It wearies me, no sooner is it done.
When once more is the same old fight begun.
And no one notes that he is but the game
Of Asmodeus who still fans the flame.
They're fighters, so they say, for freedom's rights;
More closely scanned, it's slave with slave that fights.
Homunculus. Oh, leave to men their fractious being.
Each must defend himself as best he can,
From boyhood up; thus he becomes a man.
To this man's cure we must be seeing.
Come, prove it here if you've a remedy;
If you have not, then leave the cure to me.
Mephistopheles. Many a Brocken-game I might essay,
But heathen bolts, I'll find, will block my way.
The Greeks were never worth much, it is true,
Yet their free play of senses dazzles you,
The heart of man to happy vices winning.
Gloomy will always seem our ways of sinning.
What now?
Homunculus. I know you're free of squeamish twitches!
And if I touch upon Thessalian witches,
I think I have not talked for naught.
Mephistopheles [lustfully]. Thessalian witches! They are persons-
well,
For them I long have asked and sought.
Night after night with them to dwell
Is not, I'd say, a pleasant thought;
Let's spy them, try them, though-
Homunculus. The mantle there!
Come, wrap it straightway round the knight!
As heretofore the rag will bear
You both upon your novel flight.
I'll light the way.
Wagner [anxiously]. And I?
Homunculus. Well, you
Will stay at home, most weighty work to do.
Open the parchment-sheets, collect
Life-elements as the recipes direct,
With caution fitting each to other. Ponder
The What- to solve the How still harder try,
While through a little piece of world I wander
To find the dot to put upon the i.
Accomplished then will the great purpose be.
Striving earns high requital: wealth,
Honour and fame, long life and perfect health,
Knowledge and virtue too- well, possibly.
Farewell!
Wagner [sorrowfully]. Farewell! My heart is wrung with pain.
I fear that I will see you never again.
Mephistopheles. Now to Peneus, quick, descend!
Sir Coz shall not be meanly rated.

To the spectators.

It's true, at last we all depend
On creatures we ourselves created.
CLASSICAL WALPURGIS NIGHT
PHARSALIAN FIELDS

Darkness.

Erichtho. To this night's awful festival, as oft before,
I stride in view, Erichtho, I the gloomy one,
Not so atrocious as the tiresome poet-crew
Calumniate me to excess... They never end
In praise and censure... Even now the vale appears
Far, over-whitened with the billows of gray tents,
Spectres of that most dire and most appalling night.
How oft it has recurred already! Evermore
It will recur forever... No one grants the realm
Unto another, none to him who through his might
Has won and rules it. For each one who knows not how
To rule his own, his inborn self, is all too fain
To rule his neighbour's will, as prompts his own proud mind...
Here was a great example fought even to the end:
How violence opposes greater violence,
How freedom's lovely, thousand-blossomed wreath is rent,
And the stiff laurel bends around the ruler's head.
Here of an early budding greatness Pompey dreamed,
There Caesar by the wavering balance watchful lay!
Strength will they measure. And the world knows now who won.
The watch-fires glow and flash, diffusing ruddy flames;
The ground where blood was shed exhales reflected light;
And by the night's most rare and wondrous splendour lured,
The legion of Hellenic myths assembles here.
Round all the watch-fires fabled forms of ancient days
Hover uncertain to and fro or sit at ease...
In truth, not fully orbed, yet radiant bright, the moon
Is rising, spreading gentle splendour everywhere;
The tents' illusion vanishes, the lights burn blue.
But lo! above my head what sudden meteor!
It beams and it illumines a corporeal ball.
'Tis life I scent. Becoming is it not for me
That I approach the living, doing harm to them.
That brings me evil fame and benefits me not.
Already it sinks down. Discreetly I withdraw.

Moves away.
The AERONAUTS overhead.

Homunculus.
Once again around I hover,
Flames and horrors dire I follow;
Spectral all that I discover
In the vale and in the hollow.
Mephistopheles.
As through my old window looking
Midst far northern waste and gloom,
Ghosts revolting I see spooking,
Here as there I am at home.
Homunculus.
See! a woman tall is stalking
In long strides before us there.
Mephistopheles.
As if scared, it seems, she's walking,
Saw us coming through the air.
Homunculus.
Let her stalk! Set down the burden
Of your knight, for near at hand
Are the new life and the guerdon
That he