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With reverence to your Lordship be it spoken, And, if I lose, then 'tis your turn to crow;
He's like one of those long-legged grasshoppers Enjoy your triumph then with a full breast.
Who flits and jumps about, and sings for ever Ay; dust shall he devour, and that with pleasure,
The same old song i' the grass. There let him lie, Like my old paramour, the famous Snake.
Burying his nose in every heap of dung.


Pray come here when it suits you; for I never Have you no more to say? Do you come here Had much dislike for people of your sort. Always to scold, and cavil, and complain? And, among all the Spirits who rebelled, Seems nothing ever right to you on earth? The knave was ever the least tedious to me.

The active spirit of man soon sleeps, and soon MEPHISTOPHELES.

He seeks unbroken quiet ; therefore I
No, Lord; I find all there, as ever, bad at best.

Have given him the Devil for a companion,
Even I am sorry for man's days of sorrow;
I could myself almost give up the pleasure

Who may provoke him to some sort of work,

And must create for ever.-But ye, pure Of plaguing the poor things.

Children of God, enjoy eternal beauty ;

Let that which ever operates and lives
Knowest thou Faust? | Clasp you within the limits of its love;

And seize with sweet and melancholy thoughts

The floating phantoms of its loveliness. The Doctor ?

[Heaven closes ; the Archangels exeunt.



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Though he now serves me in a cloud of error,

The Hartz Mountain, a desolate Country.
I will soon lead him forth to the clear day.
When trees look green, full well the gardener knows
That fruits and blooms will deck the coming year.

Would you not like a broomstick? As for me

I wish I had a good stout ram to ride ; What will you bet !--now I am sure of winning— For we are still far from th' appointed place. Only observe you give me full permission To lead him softly on my path.

This knotted staff is help enough for me,

Whilst I feel fresh upon my legs. What good As long

Is there in making short a pleasant way? As he shall live upon the earth, so long

To creep along the labyrinths of the vales, Is nothing unto thee forbidden.-Man

And climb those rocks, where ever-babbling springs Must err till he has ceased to struggle.

Precipitate themselves in waterfalls,

In the true sport that seasons such a path.


Already Spring kindles the birchen spray, And that is all I ask; for willingly

And the hoar pines already feel her breath :

Shall she not work also within our limbs?
I never make acquaintance with the dead.
The full fresh cheeks of youth are food for me,

And if a corpse knocks, I am not at home.

Nothing of such an influence do I feel. For I am like a cat-I like to play

My body is all wintry, and I wish A little with the mouse before I eat it.

The flowers upon our path were frost and snow.

But how melancholy rises now, Well, well, it is permitted thee. Draw thou Dimly uplifting her belated beam, His spirit from its springs; as thou find’st power,

The blank unwelcome round of the red moon, Seize him and lead him on thy downward path ;

And gives so bad a light, that every step And stand ashamed when failure teaches thee

Onestumbles'gainst some crag. With your permisThat a good man, even in his darkest longings, I'll call an Ignis-fatuus to our aid: [sion Is well aware of the right way.

I see one yonder burning jollily.

Halloo, my friend ! may I request that you

Would favour us with your bright company ?

Well and good. Why should you blaze away there to no purpose ? I am not in much doubt about my bet,

Pray be so good as light us up this way.



IGSIS-FATUU'S. With reverence be it spoken, I will try To overcome the lightness of my nature ; Our course, you know, is generally zig-zag.

MEPHISTOPHELES. Ha, ha! your worship thinks you have to deal With men.

Go straight on in the Devil's name, Or I shall puff your flickering life out.

Tell me, shall we go or stay?
Shall we onward? Come along!
Everything around is swept
Forward, onward, far away!
Trees and masses intercept
The sight, and wisps on every side
Are puffed up and multiplied.

Now vigorously seize my skirt, and gain
This pinnacle of isolated crag.
One may observe with wonder from this point
How Mammon glows among the inountains.


Well, I see you are the master of the house; I will accommodate myself to you. Only consider that to-night this mountain Is all-enchanted, and if Jack-a-lantern Shows you his way, though you should miss your own, You ought not to be too exact with him.



The limits of the sphere of dream,

The bounds of true and false, are past.
Lead us on, thou wandering Gleam,

Lead us onward, far and fast,

To the wide, the desert waste. But see,

how swift advance and shift Trees behind trees, row by row,How, clift by clift, rocks bend and lift

Their frowning foreheads as we go.
The giant-snouted crags, ho ! ho !
How they snort, and how they blow!

AyAnd strangely through the solid depth below A melancholy light, like the red dawn, Shoots from the lowest gorge of the abyss Of mountains, lighting hitherward; there, rise Pillars of smoke ; here, clouds float gently by; Here the light burns soft as the enkindled air, Or the illumined dust of golden flowers ; And now it glides like tender colours spreading ; And now bursts forth in fountains from the

earth ; And now it winds one torrent of broad light, Through the far valley with a hundred veins ; And now once more within that narrow corner Masses itself into intensest splendour. And near us see sparks spring out of the ground, Lihe golden sand scattered upon the darkness; The pinnacles of that black wall of mountains That hems us in are kindled.

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Through the mossy sods and stones, Stream and streamlet hurry down, A rushing throng! A sound of song Beneath the vault of Heaven is blown ! Sweet notes of love, the speaking tones Of this bright day, sent down to say That Paradise on Earth is known, Resound around, beneath, above, All we hope and all we love Finds a voice in this blithe strain, Which wakens hill and wood and rill, And vibrates far o'er field and vale, And which Echo, like the tale Of old times, repeats again. To-whoo ! to-whoo! near, nearer now The sound of song, the rushing throng! Are the screech, the lapwing and the jay, All awake as if 'twere day? See, with long legs and belly wide, A salamander in the brake! Every root is like a snake, And along the loose hill side, With strange contortions through the night, Curls, to seize or to affright; And animated, strong, and many, They dart forth polypus-antenna, To blister with their poison spume The wanderer. Through the dazzling gloom The many-coloured mice that thread The dewy turf beneath our tread, In troops each other's motions cross, Through the heath and through the moss; And in legions intertangled, The fire-Hies flit, and swarm, and throng, Till all the mountain depths are spangled.

MEPHISTOPHELES. Cling tightly to the old ribs of the crag. Beware! for if with them thou warrest In their fierce flight towards the wilderness, Their breath will sweep thee into dust, and drag Thy body to a grave in the abyss.

A cloud thickens the night. Hark! how the tempest crashes through the forest!

The owls fly out in strange affright;
The columns of the evergreen palaces

Are split and shattered ;
The roots creah, and stretch, and groan ;
And ruinously overthrown,
The trunks are crushed and shattered
By the fierce blast's unconquerable stress.
Over each other crack and crash they all
In terrible and intertangled fall;
And through the ruins of the shaken mountain

The airs hiss and howl
It is not the voice of the fountain,

Nor the wolf in his midnight prowl.

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We cling to the skirt, and we strike on the ground; And you may now as well take your course on to

Witch-legions thicken around and around; Hell,

Wizard-swarms cover the heath all over. Since you ride by so fast on the headlong blast.

[They descend.

MEPHISTOPHELES. She dropt poison upon me as I past.

What thronging, dashing, raging, rustling !

What whispering, babbling, hissing, bustling ! Here are the wounds

What glimmering, spurting, stinking, burning!

As Heaven and earth were overturning.
Come away ! come along!

There is a true witch element about us ;
The way is wide, the way is long,

Take hold on me, or we shall be divided : But what is that for a Bedlam throng?

Where are you? Stick with the prong, and scratch with the broom.

FAUST (from a distance). The child in the cradle lies strangled at home,

Here! And the mother is clapping her hands.


What! We glide in I must exert my authority in the house. Like snails when the women are all away ; Place for young Voland! Pray make way, good And from a house once given over to sin

people. Woman has a thousand steps to stray.

Take hold on me, doctor, and with one step
Let us escape from this unpleasant crowd :

They are too mad for people of
A thousand steps must a woman take,

Just there shines a peculiar kind of lightWhere a man but a single spring will make. Something attracts me in those bushes.—Come

This way; we shall slip down there in a minute. VOICES ABOVE. Come with us, come with us, from Felunsee.

Spirit of Contradiction ! Well, lead on

"T'were a wise feat indeed to wander out
With what joy would we fly through the upper sky; Into the Brocken upon May-day night,
Weare washed, we are’nointed, stark naked are we! And then to isolate oneself in scorn,
But our toil and our pain are for ever in vain. Disgusted with the humours of the time.



my sort.





MINISTER See yonder, round a tanyeolarer flame

Nov-a-dars A merry-elab is huddled all together :

Penple assert their rights ; they go too far; Even with such little people as sit there

Bas, as for me, the good old times I praise. One would not be alone.

Then we were all in all ; 'twas something worth

One's while to be in place and wear a star; FACT.

! That was indeed the golden age on earth. Would that I were

PARVENT. ['p yonder in the glow and whirling smoke We too are active, and we did and do Where the blind million rush impetuously | What we ought not perhaps ; and yet we now To meet the evil ones ; there might I solve

Will seize, whilst all things are whirled round and Many a riddle that worments me!


A spoke of Fortune's wheel, and keep our ground. MEPHISTOPHELES.

ALTHOR Many a riddle there is tied anew

Who now can taste a treatise of deep sense Inextricably. Let the great world rage !

And ponderous volume ! 'Tis impertinence We will stay here safe in the quiet dwellings.

To write what none will read, therefore will I "Tis an old custom. Men have ever built To piease the young and thoughtless people try. Their own small world in the great world of all. I see young witches naked there, and old ones

MEPHISTOPHELES. (Who at once appears to hare Wisely attired with greater decency.

groten very old.) Be guided now by me, and you shall buy

| I find the people ripe for the last day, A pound of pleasure with a dram of trouble.

Since I last came up to the wizard mountain ; I hear them tune their instruments--one must

And as my little cask runs turbid now, Get used to this damned scraping. Come, I'll So is the world drained to the dregs. lead you

PEDLAR-WITCH: Among them; and what there you do and see,

Look here, As a fresh compact 'twixt us two shall be.

Gentlemen ; do not hurry on so fast,

And lose the chance of a good pennyworth. How say you now? this space is wide enough

I have a pack full of the choicest wares Look forth, you cannot see the end of it

Of every sort, and yet in all my bundle A hundred bonfires burn in rows, and they

Is nothing like what may be found on earth ; Who throng around them seem innumerable :

Nothing that in a moment will make rieh Dancing and drinking, jabbering, making love,

Men and the world with fine malicious mischief.. And cooking, are at work. Now tell me, friend,

There is no dagger drunk with blood ; no bowl What is there better in the world than this?

From which consuming poison may be drained
By innocent and healthy lips ; no jewel,

The price of an abandoned maiden's shame ; In introducing us, do you assume

No sword which cuts the bond it cannot loose, The eharacter of wizard or of devil?

Or stabs the wearer's enemy in the back;


In truth, I generally go about

Gossip, you know little of these times. In strict incognito ; and yet one likes

What has been, has been ; what is done, is past. To wear one's orders upon gala days.

They shape themselves into the innovations I have no ribbon at my knee ; but here

They breed, and innovation drags us with it. At home the cloven foot is honourable.

The torrent of the crowd sweeps over us ; See you that snail there ?—she comes creeping up, You think to impel, and are yourself impelled. And with her feeling eyes hath smelt out some

I could not, if I would, mask myself here.

Who is that yonder ?
Come now we'll go about from fire to fire :
I'll be the pimp, and you shall be the lover.

Mark her well. It is (To some old Women, who are sitting round a heap

of glimmering coals.
Old gentlewomen, what do you do out here?
You ought to be with the young rioters

Right in the thickest of the revelry-
But every one is best content at home.

Lilith, the first wife of Adam.

Beware of her fair hair, for she excels

All women in the magic of her locks ;
Who dare confide in right or a just claim ? And when she winds them round a young man's
So much as I had done for them! and now-

neck, With women and the people 'tis the same,

She will not ever set him free again.
Youth will stand foremost ever,-age may go
To the dark grave unhonoured.

* A sort of fundholder.






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BROCTO-PHANTASMIST. What is this cursed multitude about? Have we not long since proved to demonstration That ghosts move not on ordinary feet ! But these are dancing just like men and women.




THE GIRL. What does he want then at our ball ?


Oh ! he Is far above us all in his conceit: Whilst we enjoy, he reasons of enjoyment ; And any step which in our dance we tread, If it be left out of his reckoning, Is not to be considered as a step. There are few things that scandalise him not ; And, when you whirl round in the circle now, As he went round the wheel in his old mill, He says that you go wrong in all respects, Especially if you congratulate him Upon the strength of the resemblance.

Seest thou not a pale Fair girl, standing alone, far, far away! She drags herself now forward with slow steps, And seems as if she moved with shackled feet: I cannot overcome the thought that she Is like poor Margaret.


Let it be-pass onNo good can come of it-it is not well To meet it—it is an enchanted phantom, A lifeless idol ; with its numbing look, It freezes up the blood of man; and they Who meet its ghastly stare are turned to stone, Like those who saw Medusa.


0, too true! Her eyes are like the eyes of a fresh corpse Which no beloved hand has closed. Alas! That is the breast which Margaret yielded to meThose are the lovely limbs which I enjoyed !



Fly ! Vanish ! Unheard-of impudence! What, still there! In this enlightened age too, since you have been Proved not to exist !-But this infernal brood Will hear no reason and endure no rule. Are we so wise, and is the pond still haunted ? How long have I been sweeping out this rubbish Of superstition, and the world will not Come clean with all my pains !—it is a case Unheard of!

It is all magic, poor deluded fool !
She looks to every one like his first love,



O what delight! what woe! I cannot turn
My looks from her sweet piteous countenance.
How strangely does a single blood-red line,
Not broader than the sharp edge of a knife,
Adorn her lovely neck !

Then leave off teasing us so.

BROCTO-PHANTASMIST. I tell you, spirits, to your faces now, That I should not regret this despotism Of spirits, but that mine can wield it not. To-night I shall make poor work of it, Yet I will take a round with you and hope Before my last step in the living dance To beat the poet and the devil together.


Ay, she can carry Her head under her arm upon occasion ; Perseus has cut it off for her. These pleasures End in delusion.—Gain this rising ground, It is as airy here as in a [ ] And if I am not mightily deceived, I see a theatre.- What may this mean?



At last he will sit down in some foul puddle ;
That is his way of solacing himself ;
Uutil some leech, diverted with his gravity,
Cures him of spirits and the spirit together.

[To Faust, who has seceded from the dance. Why do you let that fair girl pass from you, Who sang so sweetly to you in the dance ?

Quite a new piece, the last of seven, for 'tis
The custom now to represent that number.
'Tis written by a Dilettante, and
The actors who perform are Dilettanti ;
Excuse me, gentlemen ; but I must vanish.
I am a Dilettante curtain-lifter.


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