Faust Read Online

	You two who often stood by me
	in times of hardship and of gloom,
	what do you think our enterprise
	should bring to German lands and people?
	I want the crowd to be well satisfied,
	for, as you know, it lives and lets us live.
	The boards are nailed, the stage is set,
40	and all the world looks for a lavish feast.
	There they sit, with eyebrows raised,
	and calmly wait to be astounded.
	I have my ways to keep the people well disposed,
	but never was I in a fix like this.
	It’s true, they’re not accustomed to the best,
	yet they have read an awful lot of things.
	How shall we plot a new and fresh approach
	and make things pleasant and significant?
	I’ll grant, it pleases me to watch the crowds,
50	as they stream and hustle to our tent
	and with mighty and repeated labors
	press onward through the narrow gate of grace;
	while the sun still shines—it’s scarcely four o’clock—
	they fight and scramble for the ticket window,
	and as if in famine begging at the baker’s door,
	they almost break their necks to gain admission.
	The poet alone can work this miracle
	on such a diverse group. My friend, the time is now!

	Oh, speak no more of motley crowds to me,
60	their presence makes my spirit flee.
	Veil from my sight those waves and surges
	that suck us down into their raging pools.
	Take me rather to a quiet little cell
	where pure delight blooms only for the poet,
	where our inmost joy is blessed and fostered
	by love and friendship and the hand of God.
	Alas! What sprang from our deepest feelings,
	what our lips tried timidly to form,
	failing now and now perhaps succeeding,
70	is devoured by a single brutish moment.
	Often it must filter through the years
	before its final form appears perfected.
	What gleams like tinsel is but for the moment.
	What’s true remains intact for future days.

COMEDIAN.

	Oh, save me from such talk of future days!
	Suppose I were concerned with progeny,
	then who would cheer our present generation?
	It lusts for fun and should be gratified.
	A fine young fellow in the present tense
80	is worth a lot when all is said and done.
	If he can charm and make the public feel at ease,
	he will not mind its changing moods;
	he seeks the widest circle for himself,
	so that his act will thereby be more telling.
	And now be smart and show your finest qualities,
	let fantasy be heard with all its many voices,
	as well as mind and sensibility and passion,
	and then be sure to add a dose of folly.

	Above all, let there be sufficient action!
90	They come to gaze and wish to see a spectacle.
	If many things reel off before their eyes,
	so that the mob can gape and be astounded,
	then you will sway the great majority
	and be a very popular man.
	The mass can only be subdued by massiveness,
	so each can pick a morsel for himself.
	A large amount contains enough for everyone,
	and each will leave contented with his share.
	Give us the piece you write in pieces!
100	Try your fortune with a potpourri
	that’s quickly made and easily dished out.
	What good is it to sweat and to create a whole?
	The audience will yet pick the thing to pieces.

	You do not feel the baseness of such handiwork.
	How improper for an artist worth his salt!
	I see, the botchery of your neat companions
	has been the maxim of your enterprise.

	Such reproaches leave me unperturbed.
	A man who wants to make his mark
110	must try to wield the best of tools.
	You have coarse wood to split, remember that;
	consider those for whom you write!
	A customer may come because he’s bored,
	another may have had too much to eat;
	and what I most of all abhor:
	some have just put down their evening paper.
	They hurry here distracted, as to a masquerade,
	and seek us out from mere curiosity.
	The ladies come to treat the audience to their charms
120	and play their parts without a salary.
	Now are you still a dreamer on poetic heights?
	And yet content when our house is filled?
	Observe your benefactors at close range!
	Some are crude, the others cold as ice.
	And when it’s finished, this one wants a deck of cards
	and that one pleasure in a whore’s embrace.
	Why then invoke and plague the muses
	for such a goal as this, poor fools?
	I say to you, give more and more and always more,
130	and then you cannot miss by very much.
	You must attempt to mystify the people,
	they’re much too hard to satisfy—
	What’s got into you—are you anguished or ecstatic?

	Go find yourself another slave!
	The poet, I suppose, should wantonly give back,
	so you’d be pleased, the highest right
	that Nature granted him, the right of Man!
	How does the poet stir all hearts?
	How does he conquer every element?
140	Is it not the music welling from his heart
	that draws the world into his breast again?
	When Nature spins with unconcern
	the endless thread and winds it on the spindle,
	when the discordant mass of living things
	sounds its sullen dark cacophony,
	who divides the flowing changeless line,
	infusing life, and gives it pulse and rhythm?
	Who summons each to common consecration
	where each will sound in glorious harmony?
150	Who bids the storm accompany the passions,
	the sunset cast its glow on solemn thought?
	Who scatters every fairest April blossom
	along the path of his beloved?
	Who braids from undistinguished verdant leaves
	a wreath to honor merit?
	Who safeguards Mount Olympus, who unites the gods?
	Man’s power which in the poet stands revealed!

COMEDIAN.

	Very well, then put to use those handsome powers
	and carry on the poet’s trade,
160	as one would carry on a love affair.
	One meets by accident, emotes, and lingers,
	and by and by one is entangled,
	one’s bliss increases, then one is in trouble;
	one’s rapture grows, then follow grief and pain,
	before you know, your story is completed.
	We must present a drama of this type!
	Reach for the fullness of a human life!
	We live it all, but few live knowingly;
	if you but touch it, it will fascinate.
170	A complex picture without clarity,
	much error with a little spark of truth—
	that’s the recipe to brew the potion
	whence all the world is quenched and edified.
	The fairest bloom of youth will congregate
	to see the play and wait for revelation;
	then every tender soul will eagerly absorb
	some food for melancholy from your work.
	First one and then another thing is stirred,
	so each can find what’s in his heart.
180	They weep and laugh quite easily;
	they honor fancy and they like their make-believe.
	The finished man, you know, is difficult to please;
	a growing mind will ever show you gratitude.

	Then let me live those years again
	when I could still mature and grow,
	when songs gushed up as from a spring
	that ceaselessly renewed itself within,
	when all the world was veiled in mist
	and every bud concealed a miracle,
190	when I gathered up a thousand flowers
	that richly decked the slopes and fields—
	then I had nothing, yet I had enough:
	a yen for phantoms, and an urge for truth.
	Give me back my unconstrained desires,
	my deep and painful time of bliss,
	the strength of hate, the force of love,
	give me back my youth again!

COMEDIAN.

	You need your youth in any case, my friend,
	when pressed in battle by a surging foe,
200	when lovely girls with all their strength
	lock their arms about your neck,
	when far away the victor’s wreath
	lures the runner to a hard-won goal,
	when after frenzied whirling dances,
	you feast and drink throughout the night.
	But to pluck the lyre’s familiar strings
	with courage and with graceful mien,
	to sweep through charming aberrations
	to a self-appointed goal,
210	that, gentlemen, is where your duty lies,
	and we honor you no less for it.
	They say that age makes people childish;
	I say it merely finds us still true children.

	Sufficient words have been exchanged;
	now at last I want to see some action.
	While you are turning pretty compliments,
	some useful thing should be afoot.
	What good is it to speak of inspiration?
	To him who hesitates it never comes.
220	Since you are poets by profession,
	call out and commandeer some poetry.
	You are acquainted with our needs:
	We wish to swallow potent brew,
	so do not dally any longer!
	What you put off today will not be done tomorrow;
	you should never let a day slip by.
	Let resolution grasp what’s possible
	and seize it boldly by the hair;
	then you will never lose your grip,
230	but labor steadily, because you must.

	On our German stage, you know,
	we like to try out all we can;
	so don’t be stingy on this day
	with panoramas and machinery.
	Employ the great and small celestial light
	and scatter stars without constraint;
	nor are we short of water, fire, rocky crags,
	and birds and beasts we have galore.
	Within the narrow confines of our boards
240	you must traverse the circle of creation
	and move along in measured haste
	from Heaven through the world to Hell.

PROLOGUE IN HEAVEN 2

The Lord. The Heavenly Hosts.

Later, Mephistopheles.

Enter the three Archangels.

RAPHAEL.

	The sun intones his ancient song
	in contest with fraternal spheres,
	and with a roll of thunder
	rounds out his predetermined journey.
	His aspect strengthens angels,
	but none can fathom him.
	The inconceivable creations
250	are glorious as from the first.

GABRIEL.

	And swift beyond conception
	the earth’s full splendor wheels about.
	The light of paradise is followed
	by deep and baleful night;
	the ocean’s rivers churn and foam
	and lash the rocks’ foundations,
	and rocks and water hurtle onward
	in swift, perennial circles.

MICHAEL.

	The roaring storms race through the skies
260	from sea to land, from land to sea,
	and furiously they forge a chain
	of deep pervading energy.
	Then lightning wrecks the trail,
	then comes the crash of thunder;
	and yet, O Lord, your messengers revere
	the gentle movement of your day.

THE THREE.

	The spectacle gives strength to angels,
	but none can fathom you,
	and all your high creations
270	are glorious as from the first.

	Because, O Lord, you show yourself and ask
	about conditions here with us,
	and you were glad in former days to have me near,
	you see me now as one among your servants.
	Forgive me, but I can’t indulge in lofty words,
	although this crowd will hold me in contempt;
	my pathos certainly would make you laugh,
	had you not dispensed with laughter long ago.
	I waste no words on suns and planets,
280	I only see how men torment themselves.
	Earth’s little god remains the same
	and is as quaint as from the first.
	He would have an easier time of it
	had you not let him glimpse celestial light;
	he calls it reason and he only uses it
	to be more bestial than the beasts.
	To me he seems—I beg your gracious Lord’s indulgence—
	a kind of grasshopper, a long-legged bug
	that’s always in flight and flies as it leaps
290	and in the grass scrapes out its ancient litany;
	I wish that he had never left the grass
	to rub his nose in imbecility!

	Is this all you can report?
	Must you come forever to accuse?
	Is nothing ever right for you on earth?

	No, my Lord. I find it there, as always, thoroughly revolting.
	I pity men in all their misery
	and actually hate to plague the wretches.

Do you know Faust?

The doctor?

My servant!

300	Indeed! He serves you in peculiar ways.
	He eats and drinks no earthly nourishment, the fool.
	The ferment in him drives him on and on,
	and yet he half-knows that he’s mad.
	He demands the fairest stars from heaven
	and every deepest lust from earth.
	The nearest and the farthest
	leave his churning heart dissatisfied.

	If now he serves me only gropingly,
	I soon shall lead him into clarity.
310	The gardener knows that when his sapling greens
	the coming years will see it bloom and bear.

	What will you bet? You’ll lose him in the end,
	if you’ll just give me your permission
	to lead him gently down my street.

	So long as he walks the earth,
	so long may your wish be granted;
	man will stray so long as he strives.

	I thank you kindly; for I have never
	enjoyed involvement with the dead.
320	I prefer the full and rosy cheek,
	and I’m simply not at home to corpses.
	Cats like mice alive—and so do I.

	Very well. I leave this much to you.
	Draw this spirit from his primal source
	and—if you can hold him—
	lead him downward on your road;
	but stand ashamed when in the end you must confess:
	a good man in his dark and secret longings
	is well aware which path to go.

330	True enough! Except, it won’t be true for long.
	I’m not concerned about the outcome of my wager,
	and once I have attained my goal,
	please let me have my heartfelt triumph!
	Dust shall he eat, and that with pleasure,
	as did my relative, the celebrated snake.

	I am glad to let you have apparent freedom;
	I hold no hatred for the like of you.
	Of all the spirits that negate,
	the rogue to me is the least burdensome.
340	Man’s diligence is easily exhausted,
	he grows too fond of unremitting peace.
	I’m therefore pleased to give him a companion
	who must goad and prod and be a devil.—
	But you, my own true sons of Heaven,
	rejoice in Beauty’s vibrant wealth.
	That which becomes will live and work forever;
	let it enfold you with propitious bonds of Love.
	And what appears as flickering image now,
	fix it firmly with enduring thought.
	(The heavens close; the Archangels separate.)

350	From time to time it’s good to see the Old Man;
	I must be careful not to break with him.
	How decent of so great a personage
	to be so human with the devil.

THE FIRST PART OF THE TRAGEDY

NIGHT

A high-vaulted, narrow, Gothic room.

Faust, restless, in an armchair at his desk.

	Alas, I have studied philosophy,
	the law as well as medicine,
	and to my sorrow, theology;
	studied them well with ardent zeal,
	yet here I am, a wretched fool,
	no wiser than I was before.
360	They call me Magister, even Doctor,
	and for some ten years now
	I’ve led my students by the nose,
	up and down, across, and in circles—
	all I see is that we cannot know!
	This burns my heart.
	Granted I am smarter than all those fops,
	doctors, masters, scribes, and preachers;
	I am not afflicted by scruples and doubts,
	not afraid of Hell or the devil—
370	but in return all joy is torn from me,
	I don’t pretend to know a thing worth knowing,
	I don’t pretend that I can teach,
	improve, or convert my fellow men.
	Nor have I property or gold,
	or honor and glories of this world;
	no dog would choose to live this way!
	Therefore I have turned to magic,
	so that by the spirit’s might and main
	I might yet learn some secret lore;
380	that I need no longer sweat and toil
	and dress my ignorance in empty words;
	that I might behold the warp and the woof
	of the world’s inmost fabric,
	of its essential strength and fount
	and no longer dig about in words.

	O gentle moonlight, how I wish that you
	could see the end of all my misery!
	How often at this desk I sat
	into the depth of night and looked for you
390	until over these books and papers
	you appeared to me, my melancholy friend.
	If I could roam on mountain heights in
	your dear light,
	drift with hovering spirits over caverns,
	weave over meadows in your twilight glow,
	I would expel the smoke of learning
	and be drenched to wholeness in your dew.

	Alas! am I still wedged within this prison cell?
	You cursed, dank hole in the wall,
400	where even the sweet light of heaven
	breaks wanly through the painted glass!
	I’m cooped in heaps of worm-eaten books
	thickly laden with dust,
	with sooty papers fastened all around,
	extending to the vaulted arches—
	retorts and boxes strewn about
	with pyramids of instruments,
	the stuffing of ancestral rubbish—
	This is my world! I must call it a world!

410	And still you wonder why your heart
	claws anxiously against your breast?
	And why a misery yet unexplored
	stands in the way of stirring life?
	Instead of pulsing nature,
	where God had once placed man,
	you’re thrust into this soot and mold
	and ringed by sundry bones and parched cadavers.

	Away! Escape! Go out into the open fields!
	And this volume of mysterious lore
420	in Nostradamus’s3 hand and pen—
	is it not sufficient company?
	Once you know the stars’ procession,
	and Nature is your guide and master,
	when spirits speak to spirit—
	your soul will then unfold its strength.
	My barren thoughts are wasted
	within the sight of sacred signs:
	Spirits, now you hover close to me;
	if you hear me, answer me!
	(He opens the book and sees the sign of the macrocosm.)
430	Ha! A rush of bliss
	flows suddenly through all my senses!
	I feel a glow, a holy joy of life
	which sets my veins and flesh afire.
	Was it a god that drew these signs
	which soothe my inward raging
	and fill my wretched heart with joy,
	and with mysterious strength
	reveal about me Nature’s pulse?
	Am I a god? The light pervades me so!
440	In these pure ciphers I can see
	living Nature spread out before my soul.
	At last I understand the sage’s words:
	“The world of spirits is not closed;
	your mind is shut, your heart is dead!
	Pupil, stand up and unafraid
	bathe your earthly breast in morning light!”
	(He gazes at the sign.)
	How all things are weaving one in one;
	each lives and works within the other.
	Heaven’s angels dip and soar
450	and hold their golden pails aloft;
	with fragrant blessings on their wings,
	they penetrate the earthly realm from Heaven
	and all make all resound in harmony.
	What pageantry! But alas, a pageant and no more!
	Where shall I clasp you, infinity of Nature?
	You breasts, where? You wellsprings of all life?
	Heaven and earth depend on you—
	toward you my parched soul is straining.
	You flow, you nourish, yet I crave in vain.
	(He reluctantly turns the pages of the book and perceives the sign of the Earth Spirit.)
460	How differently this new sign works on me!
	You are nearer to me, spirit of the earth;
	even now I feel my powers rise
	and glow as from new wine.
	I feel new strength to face the world,
	to endure its woe and happiness,
	to brave the blasts of hurricanes,
	to scoff at my splintering ship.
	The airs above me thicken,
	the moon conceals her light—
470	the lamp goes dark!
	Smoke envelops me—scarlet flashes
	dart about my head—a chilling breath
	sifts downward from the vault
	and seizes me!
	I feel it, you surround me, spirit that I crave.
	Reveal yourself!
	My heart, ah, how it tears in me!
	How all my senses swirl,
	well up to novel feelings.
480	I know my heart is at your bidding!
	You must! You must, and if I die for it!
	(He grips the book and solemnly murmurs the spell of the Earth Spirit. There is a flash of reddish flame in which the SPIRIT appears.)

Who calls?

FAUST (averts his face).

Terrifying vision!4

	I felt a mighty pull from you,
	you have long been sucking at my sphere,
	and now—

No! I can’t endure you!

	You have sought me breathlessly,
	longed for my voice and countenance;
	your strong pleadings have my sympathy.
	Now I am here!—What pitiable terror
490	seizes you, you superman? Where is the outcry of your soul,
	where the breast that built its inward world
	and bore and fostered it and swelled with joyful tremor,
	intent on rising to the level of the spirits?
	Where are you, Faust, whose voice rang out,
	who forced himself on me with all his might?
	Are you he who at my very exhalation
	shivers to his depths,
	a frightened, cringing worm?

	Should I flinch before you, flaming apparition?
500	I stand my ground as Faust, your equal!

	In the tides of life and action
	I rise and descend
	and fling the shuttle back and forth.
	The cradle and the grave,
	a perennial sea,
	a flickering fabric,
	a glowing life,
	I toil at the whirring loom of time
	and weave the godhead’s living vesture.

510	You roam the ample world, my bustling spirit;
	how close I feel to you!

	You’re like the spirit that you grasp.
	You’re not like me.
	(The SPIRIT vanishes.)

FAUST (overwhelmed).

	Not your equal?
	Then whom do I resemble?
	I, the image of the godhead!
	And not your equal?
	(A knock at the door.)
	Oh, death, I know that knock—my famulus—
	So ends my fairest hour!
520	Why must this shriveled crawler
	destroy the fullness of my vision?
	(Enter WAGNER, in dressing gown and nightcap, lamp in hand. FAUST, annoyed, turns to him.)

	Excuse me, but I heard your declamation;
	was it a passage from Greek tragedy?
	I should like to profit from such elocution,
	for nowadays it’s a great help.
	I’ve often heard it said that an actor
	could give lessons to a preacher.

	Yes, whenever the preacher is also an actor,
	which may happen now and then.

530	Ah! when we’re cooped in our chambers
	and scarcely see the world on holidays—
	from far away as through a telescope—
	how can we guide it by persuasion?

	You will never conquer it unless you feel it,
	unless a surging from your soul,
	a primal, joyful energy
	compels the heart of all your listeners.
	Go sit down and paste your words together,
	concoct a stew from morsels left by others
540	and try to get some feeble flames
	from your puny heap of ashes!
	And if your palate craves for this,
	you may have apes and infants stand in awe,
	but you’ll never move another’s heart
	unless your own pours forth its energy.

	Yet elocution is the speaker’s greatest tool;
	it’s clear to me, I’m far behind.5

	Go seek advancement honorably.
	Don’t be a jingling fool!
550	Clear thinking and some honesty
	need little art for their delivery.
	And once you speak in earnest,
	must you still hunt for words?
	The tinseled glittering phrases
	with which one crimps the shredded bits of thought
	are lifeless like a misty exhalation
	that blows through withered autumn leaves.

	Oh, my, but art is long
	and our life is fleeting.6
560	My head begins to swim
	with the strain of critical endeavor.
	How difficult it is to gain the means
	that will lead one to the sources.
	We poor devils labor long and hard
	and die before we travel half the distance.

	Is parchment then the sacred fount
	from which a draft will quench our thirst forever?
	You must draw it from your inward soul
	or else you’ll not be satisfied.

570	Excuse me, but it gives the greatest satisfaction
	to view the spirit of another age,
	to see how wise men thought before our days,
	and to rejoice how far we’ve come at last.

	Oh yes, a journey to the stars!
	My friend, the days of history
	make up a book with seven seals.
	What you call the spirit of an age
	is in reality the spirit of those men
	in which their time’s reflected.
580	And what you see is mostly misery,
	the sight of which will make you run away.
	Pails of garbage and heaps of trash,
	at best a staged enactment of high history
	with excellent pragmatic maxims
	suitable for puppets.

	But what of the world? The human heart and intellect?
	One tries so hard to gain some knowledge!

	Oh yes! They like to call it knowledge.
	Who can give the child its rightful name?
590	Those few who gained a share of understanding,
	who foolishly unlocked their hearts,
	their pent-up feelings, and their visions to the rabble,
	have always ended on the cross and pyre.
	Forgive me, friend, the night is well advanced,
	we must suspend our conversation.

	I should have liked to stay much longer
	to exchange such learned words with you.
	But I hope that on tomorrow’s Easter holiday
	I may ask some further questions.
600	I always strive for erudition;
	I know a lot, it’s true, but I must know it all.
	(Exit.)

FAUST (alone).

	How can such hope still dwell with him,
	whose mind tenaciously adheres to rubbish,
	who digs with eager hands for treasure
	and is delighted when he finds a worm!

	Should such a human voice intrude
	when spirits held me in their spell?
	Alas, this once you have my gratitude,
	you smallest of all sons of the earth.
610	You snatched me from despondency
	which threatened ruin to my senses.
	Ah! the titanic spirit’s visitation
	made me gaze upon my dwarfish self.

	I, the godhead’s image, who thought myself
	close to the mirror of eternal truth,
	and stripped of my mortality,
	saw Heaven’s light and clarity reflect on me.
	I, more than Cherub, with unbounded power
	presumed to course through Nature’s arteries,
620	to create and live the life of a divinity—
	now I must do penance without measure;
	one thunder-word has swept me off to nothingness.

	I can’t withstand comparison with you!
	If I possessed the strength to draw you near,
	I wanted strength to hold you close to me.
	In that blessed, fleeting moment
	I felt myself so small, so great—
	you thrust me from you cruelly
	into man’s uncertain destiny.
630	Who will teach me? What must I shun?
	Shall I obey my inward yearning?
	Alas, our deeds as much as our sorrows
	cramp the course of our waking days.

	However glorious the mind’s conception,
	alien matter will in time intrude.
	Whenever we achieve some good on our earth,
	the better things are labeled frauds and fantasies.
	The ecstasies that launched us on this life
	congeal in the muddled business of living.

640	Once Imagination on her daring flight
	reached boldly for eternity, but now
	she deems a narrow chamber quite sufficient,
	as every joy is foundering in the whirls of time.
	Care nesting deep within the heart
	will quickly wreak her secret pangs.
	She sways and claws and dims our peace and joy
	and never fails to don new masks,
	as a homestead or as wife and child,
	or else she shows herself as water, fire, poison, knife.
650	You dread the blows that do not strike
	and you lament the things you never lose.
	I am not like the gods—I feel it deeply now.
	I am the worm that burrows in the dust
	and, seeking sustenance in the dust,
	is crushed and buried by a wanderer’s heel.

	Is it not dust which from a hundred shelves
	imprisons me behind this towering wall?
	Is it not rubbish and a thousand trifles
	which stuff and choke my mothy world?
660	What I lack, am I to find it here?
	Am I to fathom from a thousand books
	that mankind suffered everywhere,
	that here and there a lucky one turned up?—
	Why do you grin at me, you hollow skull,
	except to show that once your brain, perplexed like mine,
	sought the light of day and lusted for the truth,
	and lost its way in heavy twilight gloom?
	Those instruments—they jeer at me
	with all their flanges, wheels, and tackle.
670	I stood at the gate, you were to be the keys;
	though deftly wrought you raised no latch for me.
	Mysterious even in the light of day
	Nature keeps her veil intact;
	whatever she refuses to reveal
	you cannot wrench from her with screws and levers.
	Ancient gear, you served my father;
	I cannot use you, yet you stand about.
	Faded scroll, you turned a sooty brown
	since this lamp began to smoulder at my desk.
680	Far better, had I squandered all I own
	than now to sweat beneath my property!
	What you inherit from your father,
	earn it anew before you call it yours.
	What does not serve you is a heavy burden,
	what issues from the moment is alone of use.

	But why do my eyes cling strongly to that spot?
	Is that small flask a magnet to my sight?
	Why this sudden sweet illumination,
	as when a mellow moon flows through the woods at night?

690	I greet you, rare and precious vial
	as I now devoutly reach for you.
	In you I honor human wit and skill.
	You summary of gentle slumber-juices,
	you distillate of all deadly powers,
	now show your favors to your master!
	I look at you; my pain is much assuaged,
	I grasp you; my restlessness abates,
	the flood tide of my spirit slowly ebbs away.
	The ocean draws me to its deeper regions,
700	the glassy seas are gleaming at my feet,
	a new day beckons me to newer shores.

	A fiery chariot borne on nimble wings
	approaches me. I am prepared to change my course,
	to penetrate the ether’s high dominions
	toward novel spheres of pure activity.
	Do you, scarcely better than a worm, deserve
	this lofty life and heavenly delight?
	Now be resolute and turn your back
	on our earth’s endearing sun!
710	Be bold and brash and force the gates
	from which men shrink and slink away!
	The time has come to prove by deeds
	that man will not give in to gods’ superior might
	and will not quake before the pit where fantasy
	condemns itself to tortures of its own creation
	when he advances to the narrow passageway
	about whose mouth infernal flames are blazing.
	Approach the brink serenely and accept the risk
	of melting into nothingness.

720	And now come down, my goblet of pure crystal;
	let me pluck you from your dusty pouch.
	I have neglected you for many years.
	Once you glittered at ancestral banquets,
	cheering, as you passed from hand to hand,
	the sober guests about the table.
	The wealth of artful images engraved on you,
	the drinker’s duty to elucidate in rhymes
	and drain the chalice in a single draft,
	bring back some youthful nights of long ago;
730	now I shall not pass you to a neighbor
	nor test my rhyming skill on you;
	here is a juice that quickly will intoxicate;
	the murky sap which I prepared
	is now contained within this hollow shell.
	With all my soul and festive salutation
	to this day’s beginning I consecrate this final drink.
	(He puts the goblet to his mouth.)
	(Church bells and choir.)

CHOIR OF THE ANGELS.

	Christ is arisen!
	Joy to all men
	Mortal and frail,
740	Enmeshed in silent
	Inherited failings.7

	What organ resonance, what sunlit tones
	draw mightily the goblet from my lips?
	These muted bells, do they announce so soon
	the Easter Day’s first festive hour? You choir,
	do you now sing the hymn of consolation
	which once angelically rang out at the nocturnal tomb
	pledging a new covenant?

CHOIR OF THE WOMEN.

	With precious spices
750	We had tended Him.
	We faithful ones
	Had laid Him down;
	Swathing and linen
	We neatly bound,
	Ah, only to find
	An empty tomb.

CHOIR OF THE ANGELS.

	Christ is arisen!
	Blessed He who loves
	And who emerges whole
760	From the grueling
	Grievous ordeal.

	Why do you seek me in the dust,
	Heaven’s tones, so mighty and so gentle?
	On softer souls you may reverberate.
	I hear your message, but I have no faith;
	the miracle is faith’s most treasured child,
	but I dare not reach for these high regions,
	the source and music of glad tidings.
	And yet, accustomed to these harmonies from childhood,
770	I now can hear their summons to return to life.
	Once the embrace of Heaven’s love
	rushed down to me in solemn Sabbath stillness;
	the church bell’s pulsing tones were auguries
	and each prayer was a lustful pleasure.
	Ineffable sweet yearning
	prompted me to roam through woods and fields,
	and through a thousand burning tears
	I felt my world come into being.
	This song proclaimed the happy games of children,
780	unbounded rapture of a festival of Spring;
	I remember—and a childlike feeling
	constrains me from the last and gravest step.
	O sounds of Heaven, do not fade away—
	the tears well up, the earth has me again!

CHOIR OF THE DISCIPLES.

	He who was buried,
	The Lord of life,
	Has ascended in glory
	To Heaven on high,
	In eager Becoming
790	Near joyous creation.
	Ah! we dwellers on earth
	Are here to suffer.
	We followers stayed
	And languished for Him.
	In anguish, O Master,
	We crave your bliss.

CHOIR OF THE ANGELS.

	Christ is arisen
	From the womb of decay.
	Burst from your bonds
800	In freedom and joy!
	Wandering pilgrims,
	Givers of Charity,
	Sharers of sustenance,
	Preachers of Sanctity,
	Prophets of bliss:
	The Master is near you;
	Now He is here!

BEFORE THE GATE 8

Various groups of people, strolling.

SEVERAL APPRENTICES.

Why go in that direction?

OTHERS.

We’re walking to the hunter’s lodge.

THE FIRST.

810	But we are heading for the mill.

ONE APPRENTICE.

Take my advice, go to the River Inn.

SECOND APPRENTICE.

I don’t like the road up there.

OTHERS.

And what will you do?

THIRD APPRENTICE.

I will go with the others.

FOURTH APPRENTICE.

	Come with me to Burgdorf,9 all of you, I’ll bet you find
	the prettiest girls and the finest beer up there
	and first-rate rows and squabbles.

FIFTH APPRENTICE.

	You’re too much for me, you’ve had it twice,
	does your hide itch for another beating?
	I am not going there; the place gives me the shivers.

SERVANT GIRL.

820	No, no! I’m going back to town.

OTHER SERVANT GIRLS.

I think we’ll find him standing by the poplar trees.

FIRST SERVANT GIRL.

	This doesn’t make me very happy;
	he’ll walk along with you,
	and he’ll dance with you alone.
	What do I care about your pleasures!

OTHER SERVANT GIRL.

	He won’t be by himself today, I’m sure.
	He is expecting Curly’s company.

OTHER BURGHER’S DAUGHTER.

	Wow! Just watch these lassies move!
	Let’s go, my boy, let’s walk with them,
830	a jug of beer, a pipe that stings and bites,
	and a girl in her Sunday best, that’s just to my taste.

BURGHER’S DAUGHTER.

	Look at the handsome boys!
	What a shame, when they might move
	in the very best society
	and instead are chasing after servant girls!

SECOND STUDENT (to the first).

	Wait a moment! Two of them are coming over here;
	they are done up so prettily,
	and one of them’s my neighbor;
	she always did appeal to me.
840	Both walk so primly and so unconcerned—
	perhaps they’ll let us go along with them.

FIRST STUDENT.

	Brother, no! It’s too much trouble.
	Hurry! Don’t let our quarry get away.
	The hand that wields the broom on Saturdays
	is best for Sunday’s sweet caresses.

BURGHER.

	The burgomaster goes against my grain!
	Since he is in, his pride grows every day.
	And what’s he done for our town?
	Conditions go from bad to worse!
850	He wants obedience from us all,
	while taxes climb to untold heights.

BEGGAR (sings).

	Fine gentlemen and ladies,
	Decked out so well and rosy-cheeked,
	If it please you, look at me,
	Please look and ease my poverty.
	Don’t let me grind my tune in vain.
	Content is he who likes to give.
	This is a holiday for all the world.
	Let it be a harvest day for me.

OTHER BURGHER.

860	On Sunday or on holidays I know of nothing better
	than to converse of war and battle clamor,
	when far away, perhaps on Turkish fields,
	the nations maul each other zealously.
	We stand by the window and we sip a glass
	and see the painted ships glide down the river.
	Then in the evening we go home content
	and bless both Peace and peaceful times.

THIRD BURGHER.

	Neighbor, I agree with you, yes indeed I do.
	Let them crack their skulls for all I care,
870	let everything go topsy-turvy
	while nothing changes here at home.

OLD WOMAN (to the burgher’s daughters).

	Eh, how sweet they look! The gay young blood!
	Who would not fall for you at a first glance?—
	Don’t be stuck-up! There’s no harm in what I say!
	You always end up with the thing you want.

BURGHER’S DAUGHTER.

	Agatha, come along, I say we should avoid
	the company of such a witch in public,
	although it’s true that on St. Andrew’s Night10
	she let me see my future sweetheart in the flesh—

880	I saw my own within her crystal ball,
	soldierlike and in the company of daring men.
	I look about and seek him everywhere,
	and yet he won’t turn up for me.

SOLDIERS.

	The sturdy castle,
	The moat, and the tower,
	The haughty girls
	Who sit and glower,
	I wish to conquer.
	Great is the strife
890	And glorious the prize.

	And our bugle
	Sounds the call
	To joy and to pleasure
	And to a great fall.
	A charging and storming
	Is our life!
	Maidens and castles
	They all must surrender.
	Great is the strife
900	And glorious the prize!
	And the soldiers
	Go marching away.

	(FAUST and WAGNER.)

	Streams and brooks are freed of ice
	by the reviving gracious eye of Spring;
	Hope’s greenery grows in the valley.
	Ancient Winter’s feeble self
	has fallen back into the rugged mountains.
	From there he sends in fitful flight
	impotent showers of ice
910	in streaks across the greening fields,
	but the sun will suffer no white;
	all stirs with shaping and striving,
	he endows each thing with his hue.
	But in this region flowers are scarce,
	the land is speckled with gay-colored people instead.
	Turn about and from these heights
	cast your glance back to the town.
	Out from the hollow, gloomy gate
	a motley crowd is surging today,
920	eager for the rays of the sun. They celebrate
	the resurrection of the Lord,
	for they themselves have arisen
	from their glum quarters and tight little houses,
	from bondage to their trade and labor,
	from their oppressive roofs and gables,
	from the crush of narrow alleyways,
	and from the solemn night of churches;
	they have all been brought into the light.
	Look! Look, how nimbly the crowd
930	sallies and scatters through gardens and fields,
	how the river moves its many skiffs
	happily down its winding way,
	and how the last of all these drifting barges
	is over-brimming with its merry load.
	And even from the mountain’s far-off trails
	comes the glitter of bright garments.
	Now I hear the hum and bustle of the village.
	This is the people’s proper paradise;
	they shout and revel—great and small:
940	I’m human here, here I can be!

	To stroll about with you, O master,
	brings me much honor and much gain;
	yet I should never come up here alone,
	because I hate all forms of vulgar entertainment.
	The fiddling, the shrieking, the rolling bowling balls,
	all this is hateful noise to me.
	The people rage as if the fiend possessed them
	and then they call it happiness and song.
	(PEASANTS under the Linden Tree.)
	A Song and a Dance
	In jacket, ribbon, fancy vest,
950	The shepherd boy was at his best
	And joined the crowd to dance.
	Beneath the linden tree they whirled;
	Round and round they jumped and twirled;
	Hurray, hurrah,
	Tralala, hop-ho!
	So went the fiddle bow.

	He thrust himself into the crush
	And with his elbow he did touch
	The maiden with his knee.
960	The jolly girl was not so coy
	And said to him, “You silly boy!”
	Hurray, hurrah,
	Tralala, hop-ho,
	“Don’t be so fresh with me.”

	And in a circle went the race,
	To right and left at quickened pace,
	The petticoats a-flying.
	Their faces flushed, their cheeks were warm,
	They rested panting, arm in arm.
970	Hurray, hurrah,
	Tralala, hop-ho,
	Their bodies were aglow.

	“You’re much too intimate with me!
	In you and all the rest I see
	How men deceive their women.”
	But off he whirled her to the side
	Amidst the shouting far and wide.
	Hurray, hurrah,
	Tralala, hop-ho,
980	So went the fiddle bow.

OLD PEASANT.

	Doctor, it is good of you
	not to disdain us on this day
	and as a deeply learned man
	walk with us in this jostling crowd.
	Please accept this handsome pitcher
	filled this day for you to quaff.
	I say, for everyone to hear,
	“May it more than quench your thirst.
	May the sum of drops contained therein
990	be added to your days.”

	I accept this wholesome drink
	and thank you kindly for your wishes.
	(The people form a circle around him.)

OLD PEASANT.

	We think it very fine of you
	to be with us this festive day;
	I remember how in times of trouble
	you always proved a friend to us.
	Many of us live today
	because your father snatched us in the nick of time
	from the fever’s burning rage
1000	when he stayed the plague at last.
	And you, then still a youngish man,
	entered every stricken home,
	and though they buried many bodies,
	you always came out whole and well.
	You overcame the harshest trials;
	our helper’s help came from the Lord in Heaven.

ALL THE PEASANTS.

	Good health to our worthy friend;
	long may he live and stand by us!

	We bow in reverence to Him above.
1010	The Lord instructs and helps the helper.
	(He walks on with WAGNER.)

	What feelings you must feel, great man,
	at the veneration of this crowd!
	Happy you who may derive
	such great advantage from your learning!
	The fathers show you to their sons,
	they all ask questions, push and hurry,
	the music stops, the dancer pauses.
	They stand in rows as you progress;
	they wave and fling their caps up in the air
1020	and almost fall upon their knees
	as if the Host were passing by.

	A few more steps up to that rock,
	then let us rest from our wanderings.
	Here, deep in thought, I often sat alone
	and racked myself with fast and prayer.
	Rich in hope, and firm in faith,
	with tears and sighs and wringing hands
	I sought to wrest from the Lord in Heaven
	the means to end the pestilence.
1030	The crowd’s acclaim now sounds like mockery.
	Oh, could you read my inmost soul,
	you’d find how little son and father
	were worthy of the folk’s acclaim.
	My father, man of darkling honor,
	brooded about Nature’s sacred spheres
	in deep sincerity, yet in peculiar fashion,
	and with a crank’s obsessive zeal,
	within a circle of adepts
	ensconced himself in his black kitchen
1040	and sought to fuse two hostile elements, or more,
	according to his endless recipes.
	A daring wooer called Red Lion
	was wedded to the Lily in a tepid bath;
	both were exposed to open, searing flames
	and driven hapless to another Bridal Chamber.11
	When thereupon in cheerful colors
	the youthful Queen shone in her flask:
	that was the medication; the patients died,
	and no one asked: Did anyone get better?
1050	And so with our hellish potions
	we raged about these plains and mountains
	and were more deadly than the plague.
	I myself administered the poison;
	I saw thousands wilt, and now must live to see
	how praise is heaped upon the shameless killers.

	How can you yield to such depression!
	A worthy man can do no more
	than execute with care and strict conformity
	the art which was bequeathed to him.
1060	If one reveres his father as a youth,
	one will accept his teachings eagerly,
	and if you gain advances for your science,
	your son may yet attain to higher goals.

	Oh, happy he who still can hope in our day
	to breathe the truth while plunged in seas of error!
	What we don’t know is really what we need,
	and what we know is of no use to us whatever!
	But the radiance of this hour
	must not be marred by gloomy thoughts.
1070	Mark the shimmering huts in green surroundings,
	basking in the evening sunlight’s glow.
	It fades and sinks away; the day is spent,
	the sun moves on to nourish other life.
	Oh, if I had wings to lift me from this earth,
	to seek the sun and follow him!
	Then I should see within the constant evening ray
	the silent world beneath my feet,
	the peaks illumined, and in every valley peace,
	the silver brook flow into golden streams.
1080	No savage peaks nor all the roaring gorges
	could then impede my godlike course.
	Even now the ocean and its sun-warmed bays
	appear to my astonished eyes.
	When it would seem the sun has faded,
	a newborn urge awakes in me.
	I hurry off to drink eternal light;
	before me lies the day, behind the night,
	the sky above me, and the seas below.
	A lovely dream; meanwhile the sun has slipped away.
1090	Alas, the spirit’s wings will not be joined
	so easily to heavier wings of flesh and blood.
	Yet every man has inward longings
	and sweeping, skyward aspirations
	when up above, forlorn in azure space,
	the lark sends out a lusty melody;
	when over jagged mountains, soaring over pines,
	the outstretched eagle draws his circles,
	and high above the plains and oceans
	the cranes press onward, homeward bound.

1100	I’ve had myself at times peculiar notions,
	but never have I felt an urge like that.
	One quickly has one’s fill of woods and meadows,
	and I shall never envy birds their wings.
	How differently the spirit’s higher pleasures
	buoy us up through many books and pages!
	Those wintry nights hold charm and beauty,
	a blessed life warms every limb,
	and ah! when we unroll a precious parchment,
	the very skies come down to us.

1110	You’re conscious only of a single drive;
	oh, do not seek to know the other passion!
	Two souls, alas, dwell in my breast,
	each seeks to rule without the other.
	The one with robust love’s desires
	clings to the world with all its might,
	the other fiercely rises from the dust
	to reach sublime ancestral regions.
	Oh, should there be spirits roaming through the air
	which rule between the earth and heaven,
1120	let them leave their golden haze and come to me,
	let them escort me to a new and bright-hued life!
	Ah yes, if I could have a magic cloak
	to whisk me off to foreign lands
	I should not trade it for the richest robes,
	nor for the mantle of a king.

	Do not invoke the well-known troop
	that floats and streams in murky spheres,
	a source of myriad dangers for all men,
	issuing from every corner of the globe.
1130	The sharp-toothed ghosts come from the north
	and chill you with their arrow-pointed tongues;
	they move up, dry as bone, from eastern skies
	and suck in moisture from your lungs.
	Those churning up from southern desert sands
	heap fire upon fire on your skull,
	while western gusts will quench your thirst,
	then drown you and your fertile fields.
	They listen gladly and are glad to do you harm
	and readily obey because they like to cheat;
1140	they pretend to come to you from Heaven
	and lisp like angels when they lie to you.
	But let us leave. The world is turning gray,
	the air grows chill and mists are seeping down!
	We come to prize our home at night—
	Why do you stop short and look so startled?
	What arrests you in this fading light?

Do you see the jet-black dog traversing field and stubble?

I saw him long ago; it did not seem important.

Observe him well! What do you take him for?

1150	Why, for a poodle who, according to his kind,
	sniffs out the footsteps of his absent master.

	Observe the ample spiral turns
	enclosing and racing ever closer!
	Unless I’m wrong I see a trail of fire
	follow swirling in his wake.

	I see a plain black poodle, and that’s all,
	it must be just an optical illusion.

	I think he’s softly weaving coils of magic
	for future bondage round our feet.

1160	He is confused and leaps about us filled with fear
	at finding not his master but two strangers.

The circle tightens; now he’s near!

	You see? He’s no phantom but a dog.
	He snarls and watches, crouching on his belly.
	He wags his tail—all canine habits.

Come join with us. Come here! Come here!

	He is a poodly-foolish creature;
	you stand still and he will wait for you;
	you speak to him, he’ll nuzzle you.
1170	What you forget, he will retrieve for you;
	he’ll jump into the water for your cane.

	You may be right. I cannot find a trace
	of any ghostly thing. It’s all his training.

	A simple dog well-trained to heed commands
	may even earn a learned man’s affection.
	Yes indeed, he quite deserves your favor
	as a student and a fellow-scholar.
	(They pass through the city gate.)

FAUST’S STUDY

FAUST (entering with the poodle).

	Behind me, all the fields and meadows
	lie wrapped in shade and deepest night;
1180	a holy and foreboding shudder
	wakes the better soul in us.
	The rush of turbulent desire sleeps,
	and every hint of stressful action.
	The love of mankind is astir,
	the love of God is all about us.

	Poodle, be quiet! Stop racing back and forth!
	Why must you sniff at the threshold?
	Come now, lie down behind the stove,
	I’ll give you my softest pillow.
1190	On the road out in the rolling meadows
	your leaps and capers entertained us well;
	you did enough to earn my hospitality;
	lie still then and be my welcome guest.

	Ah, when the friendly lamp is burning
	and glows within our narrow cell,
	the darkened self grows clear again,
	the heart that knows itself will brighten.
	The voice of reason can be heard,
	and hope begins to bloom again;
1200	we crave to hold within our grasp
	the streams of life and ah, its sources!

	Poodle, stop growling! that brutish snarl
	is not in tune with the sacred sound
	that now enthralls my soul.
	I am used to men who mock and scorn
	the things beyond their comprehension,
	who mutter at the Good and Beautiful
	because it is often too much trouble.
	Will the dog snarl his displeasure like men?
1210	But ah! though I am full of good intention,
	contentment flows no longer from my breast.
	Why must this stream run dry so soon
	and I be parched and thirsty once again?
	I’ve had more than my share of it,
	but I am able to relieve this want:
	one learns to prize the supernatural,
	one yearns for highest Revelation,
	which nowhere burns more nobly and more bright
	than here in my New Testament.
1220	I feel impelled to read this basic text
	and to transpose the hallowed words,
	with feeling and integrity,
	into my own beloved German.
	(He opens a volume and begins.)
	It is written: “In the beginning was the Word!”12
	Even now I balk. Can no one help?
	I truly cannot rate the word so high.
	I must translate it otherwise.
	I believe the Spirit has inspired me
	and I must write: “In the beginning there was Mind.”
1230	Think thoroughly on this first line,
	hold back your pen from undue haste!
	Is it mind that stirs and makes all things?
	The text should state: “In the beginning there was Power!”
	Yet while I am about to write this down,
	something warns me I will not adhere to this.
	The Spirit’s on my side! The answer is at hand:
	I write, assured, “In the beginning was the Deed.”

	If you wish to share this cell with me,
	poodle, stop your yowling;
1240	bark no more.
	A nuisance such as you
	I cannot suffer in my presence.
	One of us must leave this room;
	I now reluctantly suspend
	the law of hospitality.
	The door is open, you are free to go.
	But what is this?
	Is this a natural occurrence?
	Is it shadow or reality?
1250	How broad and long my poodle waxes!
	He rises up with mighty strength;
	this is no dog’s anatomy!
	What a specter did I bring into my house!
	Now he’s very like a river horse
	with glowing eyes and vicious teeth.
	Oh! I am sure of you!
	For such a half-satanic brood
	the key of Solomon will do.

SPIRITS (in the corridor).13

	Someone is caught within!
1260	Stay out, and no one follow!
	Like the fox in a snare
	The hell-lynx quakes.
	But take good care!
	Hover here, hover there,
	Flit up and down,
	And once he’s loose,
	You may be of use,
	Don’t leave him in the lurch.
	Remember that to all of us
1270	He granted many favors.

	First, to confront the brute
	I must use the Spell of the Four.
	Glow, Salamander
	Undine, coil
	Sylph, meander
	Kobold, toil.14
	Whoever is ignorant
	of the four elements,
	of the strength they wield
1280	and of their quality,
	cannot master
	the band of the spirits.
	Vanish in flames,
	Salamander!
	In foam merge and flow,
	Undine!
	Light your stellar dome,
	Sylph!
	Bring comfort to the home,
1290	Incubus, Incubus!
	Emerge and end it all.
	None of the four
	is lodged in the beast.
	He lies quite still and grins at me.
	I have not stung him yet.
	I shall strike his core
	with stronger conjurations.
	Have you come to my cell
	A refugee from Hell?
1300	Then mark you this sign15
	To which all must incline,
	All the black legions.
	His fur is bristling now, and he swells and puffs!
	Contemptible creature!
	Face the Teacher!
	The unconfined,
	Never defined,
	Heavenly presence
	Pierced on the Cross.

1310	My spell holds him fast behind the stove;
	now he swells to elephantine size
	and fills the chamber with his bulk.
	Now he wants to turn to vapor.
	Do not rise up to the ceiling!
	Lie at your master’s feet!
	You see, my threats are not in vain,
	I scorch you with the sacred fire!
	Do not await
	the threefold glowing light!16
1320	Do not await
	the mightiest of my powers!

(While the mist falls away, MEPHISTOPHELES steps from behind the stove. He is dressed as a traveling scholar.)

Why all this noise? What is the gentleman’s pleasure?

	So this was the poodle’s core!
	One of the traveling scholars. This casus makes me chuckle.

	I salute the learned gentleman;
	I’ve sweated mightily for you.

What is your name?

	This seems a trifling question
	for one so scornful of the word,
	for one removed from every outward show
1330	who always reaches for the inmost core.

	The essence of the like of you
	is usually inherent in the name.
	It appears in all-too-great transparency
	in names like Lord of Flies, Destroyer, Liar.
	All right, who are you then?

	A portion of that power
	which always works for Evil and effects the Good.

What is the meaning of this riddle?

	I am the spirit that denies forever!
	And rightly so! What has arisen from the void
1340	deserves to be annihilated.
	It would be best if nothing ever would arise.
	And thus what you call havoc,
	deadly sin, or briefly stated: Evil,
	that is my proper element.

You call yourself a part and yet you stand before me whole?

	I state the modest truth to you.
	While every member of your race—that little world of fools—
	likes best of all to think himself complete—
	I am a portion of that part which once was everything,
1350	a part of darkness which gave birth to Light,
	that haughty Light which now disputes the rank
	and ancient sway of Mother Night;
	and though it tries its best, it won’t succeed
	because it cleaves and sticks to bodies.
	The bodies mill about, Light beautifies the bodies,
	yet bodies have forever blocked its way—
	and so I hope it won’t be long
	before all bodies are annihilated.

	Now I know your noble duties.
1360	You cannot wreck the larger entities,
	and so you nibble away at the smaller things.

	It isn’t much when all is said and done.
	What stands opposed to Nothingness—
	the bungling earth, that something more or less—
	in spite of all I undertook
	I could not get my hands on it.
	After waves and quakes and fires,
	the lands and seas are still intact,
	and all that cursèd stuff, the brood of beasts and men,
1370	is too tenacious to be shaken.
	Think of the multitudes I buried!
	Yet there is always fresh new blood in circulation.
	And so it goes; it drives me to distraction.
	In air and earth and water,
	through dryness, dampness, warmth, and cold,
	a thousand seeds will push their way to life.
	Had I neglected to reserve the flame for me,
	I should now be quite without a specialty.

	Against the ever working forces,
1380	the healing and creative powers,
	you thrust your cold, infernal fist
	in truculence; it’s clenched in vain.
	So you’d better seek some other work,
	you fantastic son of Chaos.

	Well, let us give this matter further thought,
	and discuss it when we meet again.
	May I withdraw this time? With your permission…

	I see no reason for your question.
	Since we have now become acquainted,
1390	you have leave to visit me at will.
	Here’s the window; the door is over there;
	feel free to use the chimney, too.

	I must confess, there is a little obstacle
	that prevents my exit from this room,
	the wizard’s symbol on the sill—

	The pentagram17 should cause you pain?
	Why, tell me, son of Hades,
	if it holds you now, how did you enter here?
	How did you swindle such a spirit?

1400	Look closely now; the figure is not drawn too well,
	One of the corners facing outward,
	as you can see, is slightly open at the tip.

	A lucky accident has come my way!
	You my prisoner? well, I’ll be damned!
	It seems I’ve turned a handsome profit!

	The dog knew nothing when he first jumped in;
	but now the tables have been turned;
	the devil’s caught and cannot leave the house.

Why can’t you slip out through the window?

1410	A hellish law stands in the way:
	wherever we steal in we must steal out.
	We’re free to choose the first, but the second finds us slaves.

	So Hell itself has its legalities?
	This suits me fine, and I suppose a pact
	might be concluded with you gentlemen?

	The promises we make you shall enjoy in full;
	we will not skimp or haggle.
	But this business should not be done so hastily;
	we shall have another meeting soon;
1420	but now I must ask you most politely
	to let me out immediately.

	Ah, please stay on a little while
	and entertain me with some more details.

	Let me go, my friend! I’ll soon return;
	then you can ask me at your pleasure.

	I did not stalk you in the fields.
	It’s you who came and fell into the snare.
	Let him who snares the devil hold him fast!
	A second chance will not occur so soon.

1430	If it pleases you, I am prepared
	to keep you company for now,
	provided I may help you pass the time
	with handsome tricks and conjurations.

	Proceed, I’d like some entertainment,
	but let your tricks be to my liking.

	My friend, in this one hour you will gain
	far more for all your senses
	than in a year’s indifferent course.
	What the tender spirits sing for you,
1440	the lovely images they bring,
	will not be empty magic play.
	Blissful scents will come your way,
	then your palate will be stimulated,
	you will be bathed in ecstasy.
	For this you need no preparation;
	we are assembled, now begin.

SPIRITS.

	Vanish, you gloomy
	High-vaulting arches!
	Let the blue ether
1450	More gracefully shine
	Into this cell!
	Let darkling clouds
	Thin out and vanish!
	The firmament sparkles;
	Mellower suns
	Now offer their light.
	Spirit of Beauty’s
	Heavenly suns
	Sway and incline,
1460	And hover by.
	Follow beyond
	The yearning bent!
	And their garments’
	Fluttering ribbons
	Cover the fields,
	Cover the arbor
	Where, steeped in their thoughts,
	Lovers entwine,
	Yielding for life.
1470	Arbor on arbor!
	Tendrils budding!
	The weight of the grape
	Received in the holds
	Of ready presses;
	Falling in torrents,
	The foaming wines
	Then seep through precious,
	Crystalline stones,
	Leaving behind
1480	The steeper heights;
	They spread to the lakes
	To slake the thirst
	Of greening hills.
	And fluttering birds
	Drink up the bliss,
	Fly in blue space,
	Fly to discover
	Radiant isles
	That bob on the waters
1490	In friendly sway,
	Where many sing
	And frolic together,
	Over the meadows
	Bounding and dancing.
	Out in the open,
	All scatter and run.
	Some are scaling
	Over the heights;
	Others swimming
1500	Over the lakes,
	And some soar free—
	All toward life,
	Toward the sphere
	Of loving stars,
	Of blissful favor.

	He sleeps! Well done, my airy, tender children!
	Your lullaby has put him sound asleep!
	This concert leaves me in your debt.
	You are not the man yet who can hold the devil.
1510	Weave about him shapes of honeyed dreams
	and plunge him into seas of sweet delusions.
	But to break this threshold’s magic spell
	the devil needs the sharp tooth of a rat.
	For this I need no lengthy conjuration;
	there, it’s rustling now, it’ll quickly do my bidding.
	The lord of rats, the lord of mice,
	of flies and bedbugs, frogs and lice
	commands you now to come into the open,
	to gnaw away this bit of threshold timber
1520	while he daubs it with a drop of oil—
	There—I see you scuttling out already!
	Quick, to your task! The point that held me captive
	is near the edge upon the outer angle.
	Another bite—see, now it’s done.
	Now, Faust, dream on till next we meet again.

FAUST (waking).

	Have I been cheated once again?
	Do the vanished spirits prove no more
	than that the devil was a dreamed-up counterfeit
	and that a poodle ran away from me?

STUDY

Faust, Mephistopheles.

1530	A knock? Come in! Who’s plaguing me again?

It’s I.

Come in!

It must be said three times.

Come in then!

	Now you please me better.
	You and I shall get along, I hope.
	For I have come a noble gentleman
	that I may drive your doldrums out.
	Observe my scarlet dress with golden trim,
	the cloak of stiffened silk,
	the rooster’s feather in my hat,
	the rapier hanging at my side.
1540	I now suggest, to make it brief,
	that you move in similar attire,
	that you, without restraints and ties,
	may learn what life is all about.

	In every garment, I suppose, I’m bound to feel
	the misery of earth’s constricted life.
	I am too old for mere amusement
	and still too young to be without desire.
	What has the world to offer me?
	You must renounce! Renounce your wishes!
1550	That is the never-ending litany
	which every man hears ringing in his ears,
	which every hour hoarsely tolls
	throughout the livelong day.
	I awake with horror in the morning,
	and bitter tears well up in me
	when I must face each day that in its course
	cannot fulfill a single wish, not one!
	The very intimations of delight
	are shattered by the carpings of the day
1560	which foil the inventions of my eager soul
	with a thousand leering grimaces of life.
	And when night begins to fall
	I timidly recline upon my cot,
	and even then I seek in vain for rest;
	savage dreams come on to terrorize.
	The god that lives within my bosom
	can deeply stir my inmost core;
	enthroned above my human powers,
	He cannot move a single outward thing.
1570	And so, to be is nothing but a burden;
	my life is odious and I long to die.

But somehow death is never quite a welcome guest.

	Oh, fortunate he for whom in victory’s blaze
	death binds bloody laurels on the brow
	and whom he places in a maiden’s arms
	when the frenzied dance is over.
	Oh, to have breathed my last and faded
	exulting in the spirit’s sway!

	Yet I know someone who in that night
1580	did not quite drink a dark brown potion.

It seems that spying is your specialty.

I don’t know everything, but I’m aware of much.

	Ever since a sweet familiar note
	drew me from my fearful bog
	and deceived the remnants of my childlike faith
	with allusions to a gladder day,
	I curse all things that now entice my soul
	with glittering toys and fantasies
	and ensnare it in this cave of pain
1590	with flattering hocus-pocus and with tinsel bait.
	I curse the high opinion, first of all,
	with which the mind deludes itself!
	I curse the glare of mere appearance
	that presses hard upon our senses.
	I curse the lies of our fondest dreams,
	their promises of glory and of lasting fame!
	I curse what flatters us as fine possessions,
	wife and child, and serf and plow!
	I curse Mammon and his golden treasures,
1600	inciting us to daring enterprise,
	and all his silken cushions
	on which to loll in pillowed ease.
	My curse upon the blessings of the grape!
	My curse on lovers’ highest consummation!
	My curse on Hope! My curse on Faith,
	and my curse on Patience most of all!

CHORUS OF SPIRITS (invisible).

	Woe! Woe!
	You have destroyed
	The lovely world
1610	With a heavy blow.
	It falls, it is shattered!
	Smashed by a demigod’s fist.
	We carry the fragments
	Into the Void,
	And we bemoan
	Beauty forlorn.
	O mighty one
	Of earthly sons,
	Build it anew,
1620	Build in your breast
	A brighter world!
	Begin,
	Begin once more
	With senses purged!
	Newer songs
	Will sound for you.

	These are my little ones;
	they belong to my tribe.
	Mark their precocious counsel
1630	to pleasure and action!
	They lure you away
	into the open,
	away from bitter solitude
	where sense and juices clog.

	Stop playing games with your affliction,
	which like a vulture feeds upon your life.
	The lowest company will yet allow
	for you to be a full-fledged man among the rest.
	But never fear, I do not wish
1640	to throw you to the common pack.
	I am not really so great myself,
	but if you travel at my side
	and make your way through life with me,
	then I shall do the best I can
	to be your friend in need
	and your traveling companion;
	And if I do things as you like,
	you’ll have me as your servant and your slave.

And in return, what do you ask of me?

1650	For that you still have ample time.

	No, no! The devil is an egoist
	and does not easily, for heaven’s sake,
	do what is useful for another.
	State clearly your conditions.
	A servant of your kind is full of present danger.

	I pledge myself to serve you here and now;
	the slightest hint will put me at your beck and call,
	and if beyond we meet again,
	you shall do the same for me.

1660	With that beyond I scarcely bother.
	Once we smash this world to bits,
	the other world may rise for all I care.
	From this earth spring all my joys;
	it’s this sun which shines on all my sorrows.
	Once I must take my leave of them,
	then come what may, it is of no concern.
	I wish to hear no more discussion
	on whether love and hate persist forever,
	or whether in those other spheres
1670	the up and down be much like ours.

	That’s the spirit; take the risk.
	Commit yourself to me and soon
	you will enjoy some samples of my art.
	I’ll give you what no man has ever seen before.

	What, poor devil, can you offer?
	Was ever human spirit in its highest striving
	comprehended by the like of you?
	You offer food which does not satisfy,
	red gold which moves unsteadily,
1680	quicksilver-like between one’s fingers.
	You offer sports where no one gains the prize,
	a girl perhaps who in my very arms
	hangs on another with conspiring eyes.
	Honors that the world bestows on man
	which vanish like a shooting star.
	Show me the fruit that rots before it’s plucked
	and trees that grow their greenery anew each day!

	A project of this nature does not trouble me.
	I know I can produce such treasures.
1690	But there will come a time, my friend,
	when we shall want to feast at our leisure.

	If you should ever find me lolling on a bed of ease,
	let me be done for on the spot!
	If you ever lure me with your lying flatteries,
	and I find satisfaction in myself,
	if you bamboozle me with pleasure,
	then let this be my final day!
	This bet I offer you!18

Agreed!

	Let’s shake on it!
	If ever I should tell the moment:
1700	Oh, stay! You are so beautiful!
	Then you may cast me into chains,
	then I shall smile upon perdition!
	Then may the hour toll for me,
	then you are free to leave my service.
	The clock may halt, the clock hand fall,
	and time come to an end for me!

Weigh it thoroughly; we shall not forget.

	You have a perfect right to this;
	this is no rash or headlong action.
1710	Such as I am, I am a slave—
	of yours or whosesoever is of no concern.

	This evening, promptly, at the scholar’s table
	I shall perform my duty as your servant.
	But one thing more … for all contingencies
	I must ask you for a line or two.

	The pedant wants a legal document!
	Have you never known a man who keeps his word?
	Is it not enough that what I speak
	shall govern all my living days?
1720	Does not the world race by in tides and streams?
	And why should I be shackled by a promise?
	It’s a deep-ingrained delusion,
	we do not easily part with it.
	Blessed is he who keeps his own integrity;
	he will not rue the greatest sacrifice!
	A skin inscribed and stamped officially
	is like a specter to be feared and best avoided.
	The word is dead before it leaves the pen,
	and wax and leather rule the day.
1730	What do you, evil spirit, want of me?
	Metal, marble, parchment, paper?
	Shall I write with stylus, chisel, pen?
	Feel free to exercise your option.

	Why is your talk so full of heat,
	your eloquence so overwrought?
	Any scrap will serve me well enough.
	You simply sign it with a droplet of your blood.

	If you are fully satisfied with that,
	by all means, let us play the farce.

1740	Blood is a very special juice.

	Be not afraid that I might break this pact!
	The sum and essence of my striving
	is the very thing I promise you.
	I had become too overblown,
	while actually I only rank with you.
	Ever since the mighty spirit turned from me,
	Nature kept her doorway closed.
	The threads of thought are torn to pieces,
	and learning has become repugnant.
1750	Let in the throes of raging senses
	seething passions quench my thirst!
	In never lifted magic veils
	let every miracle take form!
	Let me plunge into the rush of passing time,
	into the rolling tide of circumstance!
	Then let sorrow and delight,
	frustration or success,
	occur in turn as happenstance;
	restless action is the state of man.

1760	For you there is no boundary nor measure.
	As you are pleased to grasp at what you can
	and, flitting by, to see what you can get,
	I hope your pleasures may agree with you.
	But start at once and don’t be shy!

	I told you, I am not concerned with pleasure.
	I crave corrosive joy and dissipation,
	enamored hate and quickening despair.
	My breast no longer thirsts for knowledge
	and will welcome grief and pain.
1770	Whatever is the lot of humankind
	I want to taste within my deepest self.
	I want to seize the highest and the lowest,
	to load its woe and bliss upon my breast,
	and thus expand my single self titanically
	and in the end, go down with all the rest.

	Believe you him who now for some millennia
	has chewed this tough and wretched fare,
	that from the cradle to the bier
	no man digests the ancient dough!
1780	Believe the likes of me: the single whole
	was fashioned for a god alone,
	who dwells in everlasting, radiant glow
	and relegated us to darkness;
	and you must content yourselves with day and night.

I am determined though.

	Splendid words, for sure!
	However, one thing worries me:
	Art is long and time is fleeting.
	It occurs to me that you might yet be taught.
	Make your alliance with a poet,
1790	and let that gentleman think lofty thoughts,
	and let him heap the noblest qualities
	upon your worthy head:
	a lion’s nerve,
	a stag’s rapidity,
	the fiery blood of Italy,
	the constancy of northern man.
	Then let him find the secret mortar
	to combine nobility of soul with guile
	and show you how to love with youthful fervor,
1800	according to a balanced plan.
	I’d like myself to meet with such a person,
	whom I would greet as Mr. Microcosm.

	What am I, if I can never hope
	to hold the crown of my humanity
	which is the aim of all my senses?

	You are—all things considered—what you are.
	Put on a wig with myriad curls,
	stalk about on foot-high stilts,
	still what you are, you always must remain.

1810	I feel it, I have hoarded all the treasures,
	the wealth of human intellect, in vain;
	when at last I sit and ponder in my chair,
	no fresh strength wells up within.
	I am no hairbreadth taller than I was
	nor any closer to infinity.

	Good sir, you clearly look upon these things
	the way such things are usually looked upon;
	we’ll have to find a shrewder method
	and not wait until the joys of living flee.
1820	Who gives a damn! One’s hands and feet and toes,
	one’s head and bottom are one’s own,
	but if I seize and feel an alien thrill,
	does it belong the less to me?
	If I can buy six stallions for my stable,
	is not then their strength my own?
	I race along, I am a splendid specimen
	as if two dozen legs were mine.
	Go to it then! Leave off your ruminations,
	and go with me into the teeming world!
1830	To waste your time in idle speculation
	is acting like a beast that’s driven in a circle
	by evil spirits on an arid moor
	while all about lie fair and verdant fields.

How shall we begin?

	We simply go away.
	What kind of torture chamber is this place?
	What kind of life is this you lead—
	a bore for you, a nuisance for your pupils.
	Go, leave that to the boob next door.
	Why should you plague yourself with threshing straw?
1840	The best of what you hope to know
	is something that you cannot tell the youngsters.
	There—I hear one coming up the corridor.

I cannot bring myself to see him now.

	The boy has waited long and patiently;
	he must not leave unsatisfied.
	Quickly, let me take your cap and gown.
	It should suit my person handsomely.
	(He changes his clothes.)
	Now trust my wit to handle matters
	in no more than fifteen minutes’ time.
1850	Meanwhile, prepare for our trip together.
	(Exit FAUST.)

MEPHISTOPHELES (in FAUST’s gown).

	If once you scorn all science and all reason,
	the highest strength that dwells in man,
	and through trickery and magic arts
	abet the spirit of dishonesty,
	then I’ve got you unconditionally—
	then destiny endowed him with a spirit
	that hastens forward, unrestrained,
	whose fierce and overhasty drive
	leapfrogs headlong over earthly pleasures.
1860	I’ll drag him through the savage life,
	through the wasteland of mediocrity.
	Let him wriggle, stiffen, wade through slime,
	let food and drink be dangled by his lips
	to bait his hot, insatiate appetite.
	He will vainly cry for satisfaction,
	and had he not by then become the devil’s,
	he still would perish miserably.
	(A STUDENT enters.)

	I am only newly here.
	I am full of humble expectation
1870	to greet and stand before the man
	whose name all speak with veneration.

	You please me by your courtesy!
	You see a man like many another.
	Have you not cast about elsewhere?

	I beg you, sir, to take me on!
	I have come here so full of fervor,
	with pulsing blood and a supply of money.
	My mother found it hard to let me go,
	but I am out to gain some useful knowledge.

1880	Well, yes, this is the very place for you to be.

	To tell the truth, I want to run away already:
	within these walls and corridors
	I feel no cheer or happiness at all.
	The air is close and heavy;
	there is no glimpse of shrubbery or trees,
	and in the lecture hall and on the benches
	I’m frightened out of all my senses.

	You are not yet acclimated.
	Just as a child does not at first
1890	accept its mother’s breast quite willingly,
	but soon imbibes its nourishment with zest,
	you will feel a growing lust
	when clinging to high wisdom’s bosom.

	I will clasp her neck with great delight.
	But tell me, please, how I may reach that goal?

	You must declare before proceeding
	what special faculty you choose.

	I want to be a really learned man,
	would like to comprehend
1900	what is on earth and up in heaven,
	the things of nature and of science.

	I’m glad to say you’re on the proper trail,
	but be careful not to be distracted.

	I’m with it with my heart and soul;
	but I should also like, if possible,
	some time for play and entertainment
	on lovely summer holidays.

	Make use of time, it flits away so fast;
	though you can save it by economy;
1910	wherefore, my worthy friend, I counsel you
	to register in Logic first of all,
	so your spirit will be neatly drilled
	and tightly laced in Spanish boots;19
	and thus, along its winding path,
	the thought will creep henceforth more circumspect,
	instead of skipping to and fro,
	and back and forth like a will-o’-the-wisp;
	and you will labor many days
	on what you once performed summarily—
1920	just as you ate and drank without constraint
	you’ll do it now by “one!” and “two!” and “three!”
	by sheer necessity. The living factory of thought
	is like a master weaver’s masterpiece,
	where one treadle plies a thousand strands,
	the shuttles shoot this way and that,
	the quivering threads flow unobserved,
	one stroke effects a thousand ties.
	But now philosophy comes in
	and proves it never could be otherwise.
1930	If One is thus and Two is so,
	then Three and Four must needs be so,
	and if the first and second had not been,
	the third and fourth could not occur.
	All this is praised by students everywhere;
	though none has yet become a weaver.
	Who wants to see and circumscribe a living thing
	must first expel the living spirit,
	for then he has the separate parts in hand.
	Too bad! the spirit’s bond is missing.
1940	The chemists call it Encheiresis Naturae20
	and know not how they mock themselves.

Forgive me, sir, I don’t quite understand.

	It will come easier by and by
	when you learn how to reduce
	and duly classify all things.

	I feel so dizzy in my head,
	as if a millstone ground within.

	And then, before you move to other disciplines,
	you must first tackle metaphysics
1950	and see with due profundity the things
	beyond the compass of the mind.
	And for whatever will or will not fit,
	a splendid word will serve for all contingencies.
	But while you’re here this first semester,
	conform to strict punctuality.
	Every day you have to take five hours,
	and when each hour strikes, be present!
	Come in prepared well in advance,
	all paragraphs well memorized,
1960	so you can see that only what stands written
	is spoken from the lectern’s height.
	Be sure to write each thing that’s said
	as though the Holy Ghost dictated.

	No need for more reminders, sir;
	I can tell how helpful this will be;
	what one has down in black and white
	one can carry home contentedly.

But you must choose an academic discipline!

I feel no call to jurisprudence.

1970	In this I cannot find much blame;
	I’m well acquainted with that discipline,
	whose laws and statutes are transmitted
	like a never-ending pestilence.
	Laws drag on from old to newer generations
	and creep about from place to place.
	Good sense is foolishness, and human decency plague.

	Alas, my boy, you will inherit this!
	Too bad that of our natural inborn gifts
	there’s never any question.

1980	You have increased my own distaste.
	Oh, lucky he who’s taught by you!
	I now feel strongly tempted by theology.

	I do not wish to see you go astray.
	For as concerns this science,
	it’s very hard to shun a false direction.
	There lurk in it great quantities of hidden poison,
	so hard to tell from proper medicine.
	You’ll find it best to listen to a single Master,
	and swear by each and every word he says.
1990	In general—put all your faith in words,
	for then you will securely pass the gate
	into the temple-halls of certainty.

But each word, I think, should harbor some idea.

	Yes, yes indeed. But don’t torment yourself too much,
	because precisely where no thought is present
	a word appears in proper time.
	Words are priceless in an argument.
	Words are building stones of systems.
	It’s splendid to believe in words;
2000	from words you cannot rob a single letter.

	Forgive me if I ask so many questions,
	but I must trouble you still more.
	Would you be kind enough to say to me
	a pithy word concerning medicine?
	Three years is not too long a time to study,
	and, my God! the field appears so broad to me.
	If one could only get some pointers,
	it would be easier to grope one’s way ahead.

MEPHISTOPHELES (aside).

	Now I’m tired of this arid style;
2010	I must play the devil once again.
	(Aloud.)
	To grasp the gist of medicine is easy;
	you study through the great and little world,
	in order in the end to let things be
	exactly as the Lord desires.
	In vain, that scientific rambling everywhere,
	each one of us will learn what he can learn, no more.
	But he who takes the moment by the tail,
	he proves himself the man of the hour.
	You have a laudable physique
2020	and virile daring in your blood.
	If you will simply trust yourself,
	the other souls will trust in you.
	And learn to lead the ladies specially;
	their eternal “woes!” and “oh’s!”
	are cured a thousandfold
	by working from a single spot.
	And if you have a halfway honorable air,
	they’ll soon be safely in your pocket.
	Your title first must gain their confidence
2030	and make your name superior and bright.
	You begin by touching all her tender points,
	around the which another may have roved for years,
	and learn to press her pulse with gentle care
	and then with fiery, understanding glances
	place your arm about her slender hip
	to see how tightly she is laced.

I like that better. One can see the wheres and hows.

	Gray, my friend, is every theory,
	and green alone life’s golden tree.

2040	I swear to you I feel as if I’m dreaming.
	Could I perhaps impose on you again
	and drink more deeply from your wisdom?

I shall be pleased to help you where I can.

	It is impossible for me to leave
	before you see my book of autographs.
	Grant me the favor of a line from you.

	Very well.
	(He writes in the book and returns it.)

STUDENT (reads).

	Eritis sicut Deus, scientes bonum et malum.21
	(Closes the book reverently and withdraws.)

	Follow the ancient words and also my cousin the snake.
2050	That godlike spark in you will have you quaking soon enough.
	(FAUST enters.)

Where do we go from here?

	Anywhere you please.
	We’ll see the small world, then the great.
	With what profit and what pleasure
	you will sponge through this curriculum!

	With this flowing beard of mine
	I lack that easy, graceful manner.
	My experiment will be a failure.
	I never was at ease with other people,
	they make me feel so small
2060	and continually embarrassed.

	My friend, all that will finally subside.
	Trust yourself and life will go your way.

	In what manner do we leave this house?
	Where are the horses, coach, and stable boys?

	We merely need to spread this mantle,
	which shall bear us through the atmosphere.
	Be sure that for this daring journey
	you only take the lightest bundle.
	A little fiery air that I will make
2070	will promptly lift us from this earth.
	And if we’re light, we’ll quickly gain some altitude.
	Congratulations on your new career!

AUERBACH’S CELLAR IN LEIPZIG

A lively and lusty drinking party.

	Is nobody drinking? And no laughs?
	I’ll teach you to make sour faces!
	Damned if you’re not like wet grass today;
	you always used to blaze like straw!

	It’s your fault; we get nothing from you,
	no horseplay, no dirty joke.

FROSCH (pours a glass of wine over BRANDER’S head).

There you’ve got both.

You double swine!

2080	You asked for it. We aim to please.

	Out the door, if you must fight!
	Sing with your gullets wide open; guzzle and shout!
	Forward! Holla! Ho!

ALTMAYER.

	Ah, I’m ruined!
	Get some cotton-wool; that man is bursting my ear!

	Only when the vaults rebound
	can you really enjoy the mighty growl of the basses.

	That’s right. Throw him out, whoever takes offense!
	Ah! Tara lara dum!

ALTMAYER.

Ah! Tara lara dum!

	Our gullets are attuned.
	(Sings.)
2090	Oh, dear old Holy Roman Empire,
	How does it still cohere?

	A nasty song! A stinking political song.
	A rotten song. Each morning you should thank the Lord
	that you’re not running the Roman Empire.
	I for one consider it a great advantage
	that I am neither emperor nor chancellor.
	And yet we cannot be without a leader.
	Let us proceed therefore to choose a pope.
	You know the qualities that matter
2100	and elevate a man.

FROSCH (sings).

	In soaring flight, O Lady Nightingale, ascend.
	A thousand greetings to my sweetheart send.

	Forget the greeting to your sweetheart. Don’t annoy
	me with that tripe.

	A thousand greetings and a kiss! You can’t begrudge me that.
	(Sings.)
	Lift the latch! Still is the night.
	Lift the latch! My love waits below.
	Bolt the latch! The sun rises bright.

	Go to it, sing her praises and her glory!
	I will chuckle in my own good time.
	She’s played a dirty trick on me, she’ll do the
2110	same for you.
	I hope she gets a hobgoblin for a lover!
	Let him toy with her at a crossroads.
	Some old goat returning from Block Mountain22
	should gallop by and bleat good-night!
	A red-blooded clean-cut fellow
	is much too good for that slut.
	Don’t talk to me about greetings—
	unless it’s the kind that will smash her windows.

BRANDER (pounding on the table).

	Attention! Now listen to me!
2120	Gentlemen, admit it, I know how to live.
	Some lovesick boys are with us this evening,
	and it is proper that I present them
	with something for the night.
	Watch me! I give you the latest in songs!
	Be sure to come in strong at the chorus!
	(Sings.)
	A rat lived in a cellar nest,
	Her paunch could not be smoother.
	She liked her lard and butter best,
	And looked like Martin Luther.
2130	The cook she set some poison bait;
	The rat got in an awful state,
	As if she had love in her belly.

CHORUS (jubilant).

As if she had love in her belly.

	She scurried here and scurried there;
	She guzzled puddle juice.
	She scraped and flitted everywhere,
	Her frenzy was no use.
	She leapt great leaps in mortal fear,
	Without a doubt, the end was near—
2140	As if she had love in her belly.

CHORUS.

As if she had love in her belly.

	And in the glaring light of day
	She ran into the kitchen,
	Dropped at the hearth and jerked and lay
	Panting hard and pitching.
	And now the cook did laugh to boot,
	“Ha! This is her final toot,
	As if she had love in her belly.”

CHORUS.

As if she had love in her belly.23

2150	How the numbskulls enjoy themselves!
	That’s what I call a skill to be admired,
	sprinkling poison for poor and helpless rats!

They enjoy, I see, your personal protection.

ALTMAYER.

	The old potbelly with his bald pate!
	Tough luck has made him tame and mellow;
	he sees in the bloated rat
	the living image of himself.
	(FAUST and MEPHISTOPHELES enter.)

	Above all, I must now introduce you
	to some jolly company,
2160	so that you can see how smooth your life can be.
	To these people every day becomes a holiday.
	With little mind and lots of zest
	they twirl and dance in a tight little circle,
	like a kitten chasing its tail.
	So long as they keep their hangovers down
	and the host keeps their credit up,
	they are cheerful and carefree.

	Look, they’re just back from a journey;
	you can see it by their strange getup.
2170	They’ve been here barely an hour.