Imprimatur

Faust: Part Two

Goethe, Johann Wolfgang von · Faust (tr. Bayard Taylor)
Section 2 of 5
Underlined text was edited by AI to fix errors.

Act II

I

A High-arched, Narrow Gothic Chamber, Formerly Faust’s, Unchanged

(coming forth from behind a curtain. While he holds it up and looks behind him, Faust is seen lying stretched out upon an antiquated bed).
LIE there, ill-starred! seduced, unwise. To bonds that surely hold the lover! Whom Helena shall paralyze Not soon his reason will recover.
(Looking around him.)
I look about, and through the glimmer
Unchanged, uninjured, all appears:
The coloured window-panes, methinks, are dimmer,
The cobwebs have increased with years.
The ink is dry, the paper old and brown,
But each thing in its place I find:
Even the quill is here laid down.
Wherewith his compact with the Devil he signed.
Yea, deeper in, the barrel’s red
With trace of blood I coaxed him then to shed.
A thing so totally unique
The great collectors would go far to seek.
Half from its hook the old fur-robe is falling,
That ancient joke of mine recalling,
How once I taught the boy such truth
As still, it may be, nourishes the youth.
The wish returns, with zest acuter.
Aided by thee, thou rough disguise,
Once more to take on airs as college tutor, -
As one infallible in one’s own eyes.
The savans this assurance know:
The Devil lost it, long ago!
(He shakes the fur which he has taken down: moths, crickets, and beetles fly out.)

Chorus of Insects

Welcome, and hail to thee! Patron, to-day: We’re flying and humming, We hear and obey. Singly and silently Us thou hast sown; Hither, by thousands, Father, we’ve flown.
The imp in the bosom Is snugly concealed; But lice in the fur-coat Are sooner revealed.
What glad surprise I feel, from this young life bestowed!
One reaps in time, if one has only sowed.
Once more I’ll shake the ancient fleeces out:
Still here and there a chance one flies about. —
Off, and around! in hundred thousand nooks
Hasten to hide yourselves—among the books,
There, in the pasteboard’s wormy holes,
Here, in the smoky parchment scrolls,
In dusty jars, that broken lie.
And yonder skull with empty eye.
In all this trash and mould unmatched,
Crotchets for ever must be hatched
(He puts on the fur-mantle.)
Come, once again upon my shoulders fall! Once more am I the Principal. But ’tis no good to ape the college; For where are those who will my claim acknowledge? (He pulls the bell, which gives out a shrill, penetrating sound, causing the halls to tremble and the doors to fly open.)
(Tottering hither down the long, dark gallery)
What a sound! What dreadful quaking! Stairs are rocking, walls are shaking; Through the coloured windows brightening I behold the sudden lightning; Floors above me crack and rumble. Lime and lumber round me tumble, And the door, securely bolted, Is by magic force unfolded. —
There! How terrible! a Giant Stands in Faust’s old fur, defiant! As he looks, and beckons thither, I could fall, my senses wither. Shall I fly, or shall I wait? What, O what shall be my fate!
MEPHISTOPHELES (beckoning).
Come hither, Friend! Your name is Nicodemus.
Most honoured Sir, such is my name—Oremus!
Dispense with that!
O joy! you know me yet.
Old, and a student still,—I don’t forget, Most mossy Sir! Also a learned man Continues study, since naught else he can. ’Tis thus one builds a moderate house of cards; The greatest minds ne’er end them, afterwards. Your master is a skilful fellow, though: The noble Doctor Wagner all must know. The first in all the learned world is he. Who now together holds it potently. Wisdom increasing, daily making clearer. How thirst for knowledge listener and hearer! A mighty crowd around him flocks. None for the rostrum e’er were meeter: The keys he holds as doth Saint Peter, The Under and the Upper he unlocks. His light above all others sparkles surer. No name or fame beside him lives:
Even that of Faust has grown obscurer; ’Tis he alone invents and gives.
FAMULUS. Pardon, most honoured Sir! if I am daring. To contradict you, in declaring All that on the subject has no bearing; For modesty is his allotted part. The incomprehensible disappearing Of that great man to him is most uncheering;
From his return he hopes new strength and joy of heart.
As in the days of Doctor Faust, the room,
Since he’s away, all things unchanged.
Waits for its master, long estranged.
To venture in, I scarce presume. —
What stars must govern now the skies!
It seemed as if the basements quivered;
The doorposts trembled, bolts were shivered:
You had not entered, otherwise.
Where may his present dwelling be? Lead me to him! Bring him to me!
His prohibition is so keen!
I do not dare to intervene.
For months, his time unto the great work giving,
In most secluded silence he is living.
The daintiest of distinguished learners,
His face is like a charcoal-burner’s,
From nose to ears all black and deadened;
His eyes from blowing flames are reddened:
Thus he, each moment, pants and longs,
And music make the clattering tongs.
An entrance why should he deny me? I’ll expedite his luck, if he’ll but try me!
(The Famulus goes off: Mephistopheles seats himself with gravity.)
Scarce have I taken my position here. When there, behind, I see a guest appear. I know him; he is of the school new-founded, And his presumption will be quite unbounded.
BACCALAUREUS (storming along the corridor).
Doors and entrances are open! Well,—at last there’s ground for hoping That no more, in mouldy lumber, Death-like, doth the Living slumber, To himself privations giving. Till he dies of very living!
All this masonry, I’m thinking, To its overthrow is sinking;
And, unless at once we hurry, Us will crash and ruin bury. Daring though I be, ’twere murther Should I dare to venture further.
What is that I see before me?
Here, (what years have since rolled o’er me!)
Shy and unsophisticated,
I as honest freshman waited;
Here I let the gray-beards guide me,
Here their babble edified me!
Out of dry old volumes preaching. What they knew, they lied in teaching; What they knew, themselves believed not. Stealing life, that years retrieved not. What!—in yonder cell benighted One still sits, obscurely lighted!
Nearer now, I see, astounded.
Still he sits, with furs surrounded, — Truly, as I saw him last, Roughest fleeces round him cast! Then adroit he seemed to be, Not yet understood by me: But to-day ’twill naught avail him— O, I’ll neither fear nor fail him!
If, ancient Sir, that bald head, sidewards bending, Hath not been dipped in Lethe’s river cold, See, hitherward, your grateful scholar wending, Outgrown the academic rods of old. You’re here, as then when I began; But I am now another man.
I’m glad my bell your visit brought me.
Your talents, then, I rated high;
The worm, the chrysalid soon taught me
The future brilliant butterfly.
Your curly locks and ruffle-laces
A childish pleasure gave; you wooed the graces.
A queue, I think, you’ve never worn?
But now your head is cropped and shorn.
Quite bold and resolute you appear.
But don’t go, absolute, home from here!
Old master, in your old place leaning, Think how the time has sped, the while! Spare me your words of double meaning! We take them now in quite another style. You teased and vexed the honest youth; You found it easy then, in truth, To do what no one dares, to-day.
If to the young the simple truth we say,
The green ones find it nowise pleasant play;
But afterwards, when years are over.
And they the truth through their own hide discover,
Then they conceive, themselves have found it out:
" The master was a fool! “one hears them shout.
A rogue, perhaps! What teacher will declare The truth to us, exactly fair and square? Each knows the way to lessen or exceed it, Now stern, now lively, as the children need it,
Beyond a doubt, there is a time to learn; But you are skilled to teach, I now discern. Since many a moon, some circles of the sun. The riches of experience you have won.
Experience! mist and froth alone! Nor with the mind at all coequal: Confess, what one has always known Is not worth knowing, in the sequel!
MEPHISTOPHELES (after a pause). It’s long seemed so to me. I was a fool: My shallowness I now must ridicule.
I’m glad of that! I hear some reason yet— The first old man of sense I ever met!
I sought for hidden treasures, grand and golden, And hideous coals and ashes were my share.
Confess that now your skull, though bald and olden, Is worth no more than is yon empty, there!
MEPHISTOPHELES (amiably). Know’st thou, my friend, how rude thou art to me?
One lies, in German, would one courteous be.
(wheeling his chair still nearer to the proscenium, to the spectators).
Up here am I deprived of light and air: Shall I find shelter down among you there?
It is presumptuous, that one will try
Still to be something, when the time’s gone by.
Man’s life lives in his blood, and where, in sooth,
So stirs the blood as in the veins of youth?
There living blood in freshest power pulsates.
And newer life from its own life creates.
Then something’s done, then moves and works the man
The weak fall out, the sturdy take the van.
While half the world beneath our yoke is brought,
What, then, have you accomplished? Nodded — thought — Dreamed, and considered—plan, and always plan! Age is an ague-fever, it is clear, With chills of moody want and dreary When one has passed his thirtieth year One then is just the same as dead. ’Twere best, betimes, to put you out o’ the way,
The Devil, here, has nothing more to say.
Save through my will, no Devil can there be, MEPHISTOPHELES (aside).
The Devil, though, will trip thee presently!
This is Youth’s noblest calling and most fit!
The world was not, ere I created it;
The sun I drew from out the orient sea;
The moon began her changeful course with me,
The Day put on his shining robes, to greet me;
The Earth grew green, and burst in flower to meet me,
And when I beckoned, from the primal night
The stars unveiled their splendours to my sight.
Who, save myself, to you deliverance brought
From commonplaces of restricted thought?
I, proud and free, even as dictates my mind,
Follow with joy the inward light I find,
And speed along, in mine own ecstasy.
Darkness behind, the Glory leading me!
[Exit.
Go hence, magnificent Original! — What grief on thee would insight cast! Who can think wise or stupid things at all, That were not thought already in the Past? Yet even from him we’re not in special peril; He will, ere long, to other thoughts incline: The must may foam absurdly in the barrel, Nathless it turns at last to wine.
(To the younger parterre, which does not applaud.)
My words, I see, have left you cold; For you, my children, it may fall so: Consider now, the Devil’s old; To understand him, be old also!

II

Laboratory

After the manner of the Middle Ages; extensive, ponderous apparatus for fantastic purposes.
WAGNER (at the furnace).
THE loud bell chimes with fearful clangour, The sooty walls feel the vibration; Soon must the long suspense be ended Of my most earnest expectation.
It shines, the darknesses are rended: Within the phial’s inmost chamber It gleams, as doth a living ember, — Yea, a carbuncle, burning, bright’ning, It rays the darkness with its lightning. Now white and clear the lustres blend! O that I hold, nor lose it more! Ah, God! what rattles at the door?
MEPHISTOPHELES (entering). Welcome! I mean it as a friend,
WAGNER (anxiously).
Be welcome to the planet of the hour!
(Whispering.)
Yet breath and speech suspend! A work of power, A splendid work, will soon be here displayed.
MEPHISTOPHELES (whispering). What is it, then?
WAGNER (whispering), A man is being made.
A man? And what enamoured pair Have you within the chimney hidden?

Wagner

Nay, God forbid! This procreation is most rare:
Of the old, senseless mode we’re now well ridden.
The tender point, whence Life commenced its course,
The outward stress of gracious inward force,
Which took and gave, itself delineating.
First near, then foreign traits assimilating.
We now of all its dignity divest:
The beast therein may further find a zest,
But Man must learn, with his great gifts, to win
Henceforth a purer, loftier origin.
(Turning towards the furnace.)
It brightens,—see! Sure, now, my hopes increase That if, from many hundred substances, Through mixture—since on mixture all depends — The human substance gently be compounded,
And by a closed retort surrounded, Distilled, and fed, and slowly founded, Then in success the secret labour ends.
(Again turning towards the furnace.)
’Twill be! the mass is working clearer! Conviction gathers, truer, nearer! The mystery which for Man in Nature lies We dare to test, by knowledge led; And that which she was wont to organise We crystallise, instead.
Who lives, learns many secrets to unravel;
For him, upon this earth, there’s nothing new can be
I’ve seen already, in my years of travel,
Much crystallised humanity.
WAGNER (up to this time continuously attentive to the phial).
It mounts, it lightens, grows,—’tis weal A moment more, and it is done! Insane, at first, appears a great intent; We yet shall laugh at chance in generation; A brain like this, for genuine thinking meant, Will henceforth be a thinker’s sure creation,
(Rapturously inspecting the phial.)
The glass vibrates with sweet and powerful tone;
It darkens, clears: it nuist arrive at being!
And now in delicate shape is shown
A pretty mannikin, moving, living, seeing!
What more can we, what more the world demand?
The secret, solved, all men may reach:
Hark! as the ringing tones expand,
They form a voice, result in speech.
(in the phial, to Wagner).
How goes it. Daddy? It was then no jest!
Come, press me tenderly upon thy breast!
But not too hard, for fear the glass might shatter!
This is the quality of matter:
For what is natural, scarce the world has place;
What’s artificial, needs restricted space.
(To Mephistopheles.)
Thou rogue, Sir Cousin! here I find thee, too? And at the proper time! My thanks are due: A lucky fortune led thee here to me; Since I exist, then I must active be. I’d fain begin my work without delay: Thou art adroit in shortening my way.

Wagner

But first, a word! I’m shamed that answers fail me; For old and young with problems so assail me. Now, for example, none e’er comprehended How soul and body wedded are and blended, — Hold fast, as if defying separation. Yet never cease their mutual irritation. Therefore —
Desist! I’d rather ask him why The man and wife agree so wretchedly. To thee, my friend, the thing will ne’er be clear: There’s work to do: for that the little fellow’s here.
What’s to be done?
MEPHISTOPHELES (pointing to a side-door).
Thy talents here employ!
WAGNER (still gazing at the phial). Forsooth, thou art the very loveliest boy! (The side-door opens: Faust is seen stretched out upon a couch.)
HOMUNCULUS (astonished).
Significant! —
(The phial slips out of Wagner’s hands, hovers o’er Faust, and shines upon him.)
Fair scenery!—Waters, moving In forest shadows: women there, undressing. The loveliest forms!—the picture is improving. One, marked by beauty, splendidly expressing Descent from Gods or high heroic races, Now dips her foot in the translucent shimmer: The living flame of her sweet form displaces The yielding crystal, cool around the swimmer.
But what a sound of wings! What rapid dashing
Across the glassy pool, what fluttering, splashing!
The maidens fly, alarmed; but only she,
The queen, looks on, composed and terror-free,
And sees with proud and womanly delight
The swan-prince press her knee with plumage white,
Importunately tame: he grows acquainted. —
But all at once floats up a vapour pale,
And covers with its closely-woven veil
The loveliest picture ever dreamed or painted.
How much hast thou to tell,—what stories merry! So small thou art, so great a visionary! Nothing see I! —
Of course. Thou, from the North, And in the age of mist brought forth. In knighthood’s and in priestcrafts murky den. How should thy sight be clearer, then? In gloom alone art thou at home.
(Gazing around.)
Brown masonry, repellent, crumbling slowly, Arch-pointed, finical, fantastic, lowly! — If this man wakes, another danger’s nigh; At once upon the spot he’ll die. Wood-fountains, swans, and naked beauties, Such was his dream of presage fair: How should these dark surroundings suit his Desires, when them scarce can bear? Away with him!
I hail the issue’s chances.
Command the warrior to the fight. Conduct the maiden to the dance; And all is finished, as is right. Just now—there breaks on me a light — ’Tis Classical Walpurgis-Night; Whate’er may come, it is the best event, So bring him to his proper element!

Mephistopheles

The like of that I never heard one mention,
How should it have attracted your attention? Only romantic ghosts are known to you; A genuine phantom must be classic too.
But whitherward shall then we travel, tell me! Your antique cronies in advance repel me.
North-westwards, Satan, is thy park and pale, But we, this time, south-eastwards sail. Peneus, there, the great plain wanders through, By thickets, groves, and silent coves, and meadow
grasses; The level stretches to the mountain passes, And o’er it lies Pharsalus, old and new.
Alas! have done! Bring not that fell collision
Of tyrant and of slave before my vision!
I’m tired of that: for scarcely is it done
Than they the same thing have again begun;
And no one marks that he’s the puppet blind
Of sly Asmodi, lurking there behind.
They fight, we’re told, their freedom’s right to save;
But, clearlier seen, ’tis slave that fights with slave.
Leave unto men their fractiousness and clatter: Each must protect himself, as best he can,
From boyhood up, and thus becomes a man. How this one shall recover, is our matter. Hast thou a method, let it tested be! But hast thou none, so leave the case to me!
MEPHISTOPHELES, There’s many a Brocken-method I might try, But pagan bolts, I find, the way deny. The Grecian race was little worth, alway; It dazzles with the senses’ freer play, To cheerful sins the heart of man entices; While ours are ever counted gloomy vices. Now, what shall be?
Shyness was ne’er thy blame, When I to thee Thessalian witches name, I’ve not said nothing, that I know.
MEPHISTOPHELES (lustfully).
Thessalian witches! Well! The persons, those,
Whom I inquired for, long ago.
Night after night beside them to repose,
I think would hardly suit: but so,
A mere espial, trial, —
Here! cast o’er The knight your magic mantle, and enfold him! The rag will still, as heretofore. Upon his airy course—and thine—uphold him. I’ll light the way.
WAGNER (anxiously). And I?
Eh? You Will stay at home, most weighty work to do. Unfold your ancient parchments, and collect Life’s elements as your recipes direct. One to the other with due caution fitting. The What consider, more the How and Why! Meanwhile, about the world at random flitting, I may detect the dot upon the” I.” The lofty aim will then accomplished be; Such an endeavour merits such requital: Gold, honour, glory, healthy forces vital, And science, too, and virtue,—possibly. Farewell!
WAGNER (sorrowfully).
Farewell! It doth depress my heart I fear, already, we for ever part.
MEPHISTOPHELES. Down to Peneus, with his aid! Sir Cousin is a deft attendant. (Ad spectatores.) Upon the creatures we have made We are, ourselves, at last, dependent

III

Classical Walpurgis-night

I

The Pharsalian Fields

Darkness,

Erichtho

TO this night’s awful festival, as oft before, I enter here, Erichtho, I, the gloomy one: Not so atrocious as the evil poets draw, In most superfluous slander—for they never cease Their blame or praises... Over-whitened I behold The vale, with waves of tents that glimmer gray afar. The after-vision of that fatal, fearful night. How oft is it repeated!—will for ever be For ever re-enacted! No one grants the realm Unto another: unto him whose might achieved And rules it, none; for each, incompetent to rule His own internal self, is all too fain to sway His neighbour’s will, even as his haughty mind inclines.
But here a lesson granted was battled to the end. How force resists and grapples with the greater force, The lovely, thousand-blossomed wreath of Freedom
rends. And bends the stubborn laurel round the Ruler’s brow. Here, of his days of early greatness Pompey dreamed: Before the trembling balance Caesar yonder watched! It will be weighed: the world knows unto whom it turned. The watch-fires flash and glow, spendthrift of ruddy
flame; Reflections of the squandered blood the earth exhales. And, lured by rare and marvellous splendour of the night, The legion of Hellenic legends gathers here. Round all the fires uncertain hover, or at ease Sit near them, fabulous forms of ancient days.... The moon, imperfect, truly, but of clearest beam, Arises, scattering mellow radiance everywhere: Vanish the phantom tents, the fires are burning blue.
But o’er my head what unexpected meteor! It shines, illuminates the sphere of earth below. I scent the Living! therefore it becomes me not Them to approach, I being harmful unto them:
An evil name it brings me, and it profits naught. Already now it sinks: discreetly I withdraw.
(Exit. The Airy Travellers atozi.
Once again the circle follow, O’er the flames and horrors hover! Ghostly ’tis in vale and hollow. Spectral all that we discover.
If, as through my window nightly In the gruesome North, I see Spectres hideous and unsightly. Here is home, as there, to me.
See! a tall one there is striding On before us, in the shade.
Through the air she saw us gliding, And it seems she is afraid.
Let her stride! The knight be taken Now, and set upon the strand: Here to life again he’ll waken, Seeking it in fable-land.
FAUST (as he touches the earth). Where is she? —
It’s more than we can tell. But to inquire would here be well. Thou’rt free to hasten, ere the day. From flame to flame, and seek her so: Who to the Mothers found his way, Has nothing more to undergo.
I also claim my share in the excursion: Yet know no better plan for our diversion, Than that each one, amid these fires, Should seek such fortunes as he most desires.
Then, as a sign to reunite us,
Let, little one, thy lantern sound and light us!
Thus shall it shine, and thus shall ring!
(The glass shines and rings powerfully.)
And now, away to many a marvellous thing!
FAUST (solus). Where is she?—But no further question make! If this were not the soil that bore her feet. If not the wave that to her coming beat, Yet ’tis the air that knows the tongue she spake. Here, by a marvel! Here, on Grecian land! I felt at once the earth whereon I stand. Through me, the sleeper, fresher spirit stealing, I rise refreshed, Antaeus in my feeling. Together here I find the strangest store; Let me this labyrinth of flames explore.
[Goes away. MEPHISTOPHELES (prying around).
And as among these fires I wander, aimless,
I find myself so strange, so disconcerted:
Quite naked most, a few are only shirted;
The Griffins insolent, the Sphinxes shameless,
And what not all, with pinions and with tresses,
Before, behind, upon one’s eyesight presses! —
Indecency, ’tis true, is our ideal,
But the Antique is too alive and real;
One must with modern thought the thing bemaster,
And in the fashion variously o’erplaster: —
Disgusting race! Yet I, perforce, must meet them,
And as new guest with due decorum greet them. —
Hail, then, Fair Ladies! Gray-beards wise, good cheer!
GRIFFIN (snarling).
Not gray-beards! Gray-beards? No one likes to hear
One call him gray. For in each word there rings
The source, wherefrom its derivation springs.
Gray, growling, gruesome, grinning, graves, and grimly,
Etymologically accord, nor dimly.
And make us grim.
And yet, why need you stiffen? You like the “Gri” in your proud title, “Griffin.”
GRIFFIN (as above, and continuously so).
Of course! for this relation is found fit; Though often censured, oftener praised was it. Let one but grip at maidens, crowns, and gold; Fortune is gracious to the Griper bold.
(of the colossal kind). You speak of gold, much had ourselves collected; In rocks and caverns secretly we trapped it: The Arimaspean race our store detected, — They’re laughing now, so far away they’ve snapped it.

The Griffins

We soon shall force them to confess.

The Arimaspeans

But not in this free night of jubilee. Before the morrow, all will squandered be; This time our efforts will obtain success.
MEPHISTOPHELES (who has seated himself between the Sphinxes). How soon I feel familiar here, among you! I understand you, one and all.
Our spirit-tones, when we have sung you,
Become, for you, material.
Now name thyself, till we shall know thee better.
With many names would men my nature fetter. Are Britons here? So round the world they wheel. To stare at battle-fields, historic traces, Cascades, old walls, and classic dreary places; And here were something worthy of their zeal. Their Old Plays also testify of me; Men saw me there as” Old Iniquity.”
How did they hit on that?
MEPHISTOPHELES,
I know not, verily.
Perhaps! Hast thou in star-lore any power? What say’st thou of the aspects of the hour?
MEPHISTOPHELES (looking up).
Star shoots on star, the cloven moon doth ride
In brilliance; in this place I’m satisfied:
I warm myself against thy lion’s hide.
It were a loss to rise from out these shades:—
Propose enigmas, or at least charades!
Express thyself, and ’twill a riddle be.
Try once thine own analysis: ’twere merry.
" To both Devout and Wicked necessary:
To those, a breast-plate for ascetic fighting;
To these, boon-comrade, in their pranks uniting;
And both amusing Zeus, the fun-delighting.”
FIRST GRIFFIN (snarling), I like not him!
SECOND GRIFFIN (snarling more gruffly.) What will the fellow here?

Both

The Nasty One is not of us, ’tis clear
MEPHISTOPHELES (brutally). Think’st thou, perhaps, thy guest has nails to scratch, That with thy sharper talons cannot match? Just try it once!
SPHINX (gently).
Stay, shouldst thou find it well; But from our ranks thou wilt thyself expel. In thine own land thou’rt wont thyself to pamper, Yet here, I think, thy spirits feel a damper.
Thine upper part entices; naught is fairer; But, further down, the beast excites my terror.
Bitter, False one, will be thy expiation; Our claws are sound and worthy proof,
But thou, with withered horse’s-hoof, Art ill at ease in our association. (The Sirens prelude above.)
On yonder poplars by the river, What are the birds that swing above?
Beware! The very best that ever Existed, they have lured to love.
Ah, why vitiate your senses, Where those Uglinesses darken? We, in crowds, come hither: hearken How the accordant strain commences, Meet for Sirens’ soft pretences!
SPHINXES (mocking them, in the same melody). Let them to descend be bidden! In the branches they have hidden Hideous falcon-claws they’re wearing, And you’ll feel their cruel tearing, Once you lend them willing ear.
Banish hate and envy, rather!
We the purest pleasures gather. Under Heaven’s auspicious sphere!
On the earth and on the ocean. We, with cheerful beckoning motion, Bid the wanderer welcome here.
These are of novelties the neatest,
Where from the throat and harp-string sweetest
The tones around each other twine.
They’re lost on me, these tinkling trickles;
The sound my ear-drum pats and tickles,
But cannot reach this heart of mine.
SPHINXES. Speak not of heart? Fool, so to call it! An old and wrinkled leathern wallet Would better suit that face of thine.
FAUST (approaching).
How strange! I, satisfied, behold these creatures, —
In the Repulsive, grand and solid features:
A fate propitious I behold advance.
Whither transports me now this solemn glance?
(Pointing to the Sphinxes.) Once before these took Œdipus his stand:
(Pointing to the SIRENS.) These made Ulysses writhe in hempen band:
(Pointing to the Ants.) By these the highest treasure was amassed:
(Pointing to the GRIFFINS.)
By these ’twas held inviolate and fast:
Fresh spirit fills me, face to face with these—
Grand are the Forms, and grand the Memories!
Once thou hadst cursed such crude antiques, But now, it seems, they ’ve comfort given; For when a man his sweetheart seeks, Welcome to him are monsters, even.
FAUST (to the Sphinxes).
Ye woman-forms, give ear, and say Hath one of you seen Helena?

Sphinxes

Before her day our line expired in Greece;
Our very last was slain by Hercules:
Yet ask of Chiron, if thou please.
He gallops round throughout this ghostly night,
And if he halt for thee, thy chance is bright.
Thou art not to failure fated! How Ulysses, lingering, learned us, Nor, regardless passing, spurned us, Manifold hath he narrated: All to thee shall be confided, Seekest thou our meads, divided By the dark-green arms of Ocean.
Let not thyself thus cheated be! Not like Ulysses bound,—but we Will with good counsel thee environ: If thou canst find the noble Chiron, Thou’lt learn what I have promised thee.
[Faust goes away.
MEPHISTOPHELES (ill-tempered).
What croaks and flaps of wings go past!
One cannot see, they fly so fast,
In single file, from first to last:
A hunter would grow tired of these.
SPHINX,
The storm-wind like, that winter harrows, Reached hardly by Alcides’ arrows. They are the swift Stymphalides; And not ill-meant their greetings creak. With goose’s foot and vulture’s beak. They fain would join us in our places. And show themselves as kindred races.
MEPHISTOPHELES (as if intimidated). Some other brute is hissing shrill.
Be not afraid, though harsh the paean!
They are the hydra-heads, the old Lernaean,
Cut from the trunk, yet think they’re something still,
But say, what means your air distressed?
W’hy show your gestures such unrest?
Where will you go? Then take your leave!
That chorus, there, I now perceive.
Turns like a weathercock your neck. Advance! —
Greet as you will each lovely countenance!
They are the Lamiae, wenches vile.
With brazen brows and lips that smile.
Such as the satyr-folk have found so fair:
A cloven foot may venture all things there.
But stay you here that I again may find you?
SPHINX,
Yes! Join the airy rabble, there behind you! From Egypt we, long since, with all our peers. Accustomed were to reign a thousand years. If for our place your reverence be won, We rule for you the days of Moon and Sun.
We sit before the Pyramids
For the judgment of the Races,
Inundation, War, and Peace, —
With eternal changeless faces.

II

Peneus

(surrounded with Nymphs and Tributary Streams). PENEUS.
STIR yourselves, ye whispering rushes. Rustle, slender willow-bushes, Sister reeds, breathe softer, crisper. Trembling poplar-branches, whisper To the interrupted dream! Fearful premonitions wake me,
Secret shudders thrill and shake me In my rippling, sleeping stream.
FAUST (advancing to the river).
Here, behind the vines that dangle O’er the thicket’s bowery tangle, If I heard aright, were noises Similar to human voices. Babbling seemed the wave to patter. And the breeze in sport to chatter.
NYMPHS (to Faust).
For thee were it better
To lie here, reviving
In coolness thy body,
Outwearied with striving, —
The rest, that eludes thee,
To taste, and be free:
We’ll rustle and murmur,
And whisper to thee.
I am awake! Let them delay me, The incomparable Forms!—and sway me, As yonder to my sight confessed! How strangely am I moved, how nearly! Are they but dreams? or memories, merely? Already once was I so blest. Beneath the swaying bushes hiding, The full, fresh waves are softly gliding; They scarcely rustle on their path: A hundred founts from all sides hasten. To fill a pure and sparkling basin, The hollowed level of a bath. The fair young limbs of women trouble The watery glass that makes them double, And doubles, thus, the eye’s delight:
In joyous bath each other aiding. Or boldly swimming, shyly wading, Then cry, and splash, and foamy fight. It were enough, the picture viewing, — My healthy eyesight here renewing, — Yet I desire the still unseen. My gaze would pierce through yonder cover, Whose leafy wealth is folded over The vision of the stately Queen. Strange! across the crystal skimming, From the coves the swans are swimming, Moving in majestic state: Floating calmly and united, But how proud and self-delighted, Head and neck they lift elate!... One, his feathers proudly pluming, Boldly on his grace presuming. Leads the others in the race; With his whitest plumage showing Wave-like on the wave he’s throwing, Speeds he to the sacred place.... The others back and forth together Swim on with smoothly shining feather, And soon, in mimic battle met. Shall chase aside the maids affrighted. Till, for their own protection slighted. Their bounden service they forget.
NYMPHS. Sisters, bend and lay the ear On the turf beside the river!
Sound of hoofs, if right I hear, Swift approaching, seems to shiver. Would I knew whose rapid flight Brings a message to the Night!
As I think, the earth is ringing From a charger, hither springing.
See there! See there!
A fortune comes, most fair:
Shall I attain its blessing?
O, marvel past expressing! A rider trots towards us free: Spirit and strength in him I see, — Upon a snow-white steed careering.... I know him now, I hail with awe The famous son of Philyra! — Halt, Chiron, halt! I’ve something for thy hearing.
What then? What is it?
Thy course delay!
I rest not.
Take me with thee, then, I pray!
Mount! and I thus can ask, at leisure, Whither thy way. Thou standest on the shore; I’ll bear thee through the flood, with pleasure.
FAUST (mounting). Whither thou wilt. I thank thee evermore.... The mighty man, the pedagogue, whose place And fame it was, to teach a hero-race, — The splendid circle of the Argonauts, And all whose deeds made quick the Poet’s thoughts.
We will not further speak of these! As Mentor even Pallas is not venerated: And, after all, they manage as they please, As if they’d not been educated.
The leech, who knoweth flower and fruit,
Whose lore can sound the deepest root, —
Who heals the sick, and soothes the wounded place,
Him, here, in mind and body I embrace!
CHIRON. When heroes, near me, felt the smart, My helpful knowledge failed them seldom; But, at the last, I left mine art To priest and simple-gathering beldam.
Thy speech the true great man betrays, Who cannot hear a word of praise; His modesty would fain confound us To think his equals still were round us.
Thou seemest skilled to feign such matter — People and Prince alike to flatter.
But surely thou wilt grant to me
That thou the greatest of thy time didst see,
Upon their paths of proud achievement trod,
And lived thy days, a serious demigod.
Among those grand, heroic forms of old,
Whom didst thou for the best and worthiest hold?
Of those beneath the Argonauts’ bright banner, Each worthy was in his peculiar manner. And by the virtue of his strength selective Sufficed therein, where others were defective. Castor and Pollux were as victors hailed, Where beauty and the grace of youth prevailed: Decision, the swift deed for others’ aid. Gave the fair crown before the Boreads laid: Reflective, prudent, strong, in council wise. So Jason ruled, delight of women’s eyes: Then Orpheus, gentle, silent, brooding, lowering, But when he struck the lyre, all-overpowering. Sharp-sighted Lynceus, who by day and dark Through shoreward breakers steered the sacred bark. Danger is best endured where men are brothers; When one achieves, then praise him all the others.
But Hercules thy speech is wronging—
Ah, me! awaken not my longing!... I had not seen, in Fields Elysian, How Phoebus, Ares, Hermes, shine; But there arose before my vision A form that all men called divine. A king by birth, as ne’er another, A youth magnificent to view; Though subject to his elder brother, And to the loveliest women, too. No second such hath Gaea granted. Or Hebe led to Heaven again; For him the songs are vainly chanted, The marble hewn for him in vain.
Though ever to his form addicted. His grace the sculptors could not wreak. The fairest Man hast thou depicted, Now of the fairest Woman speak!
What!—Little worth is woman’s beauty,
So oft an image dumb we see:
I only praise, in loving duty,
A being bright and full of glee.
For Beauty in herself delighteth;
And irresistibly she smiteth
When sweetly she with Grace uniteth,
Like Helena, when her I bore.
Her didst thou bear?
This back she pressed,
Was I not wild enough, before?
And now such seat, to make me blest!
CHIRON. Just so she grasped me by the hair As thou dost.
O, I scarcely dare To trust my senses!—tell me more! She is my only aspiration! Whence didst thou bear her—to what shore?
Not difficult is the relation.
’Twas then, when came the Dioscuri bold
To free their sister from the robbers’ hold;
But these, accustomed not to be subdued,
Regained their courage and in rage pursued.
The swamps below Eleusis did impede
The brothers’ and the sister’s flying speed:
The brothers waded: splashing through the reed,
I swam: then off she sprang, and pressing me
On the wet mane, caressing me,
She thanked with sweetly-wise and conscious tongue.
How charming was she!—dear to age, so young!
But seven years old !—
Philologists, I see, Even as they cheat themselves, have cheated thee. ’Tis curious with your mythologic dame: The Poet takes her when he needs her name; She grows not old, stays ever young and warm, And of the most enticing form; Seduced in youth, in age enamouring still, — Enough! no time can bind the Poet’s will.
Then let no bonds of Time be thrown around her! Even as on Pherae’s isle Achilles found her, Beyond the bounds of Time. What blessing rare, In spite of Fate such love to win and wear! And shall not I, by mightiest desire, Unto my life that sole fair form acquire, That shape eternal, peer of Gods above, Tender as grand, sublime as sweet with love? Thou saw’st her once; to-day I saw her Dream, The dream of Beauty, beautiful as Dream! My soul, my being, now is bound and chained; I cannot live, unless she be attained.
Thou, Stranger! feel’st, as man, such ecstasy:
Among us, Spirits, mad thou seem’st to be. Yet, as it haps, thy fortune now is omened; For every year, though only for a moment, It is my wont to call at Manto’s dwelling, — She, Esculapius’ child, whose prayers are swelling Unto her father, that, his fame to brighten, The brains of doctors he at last enlighten, And them from rashly dealing death may frighten. I like her best of all the guild of Sibyls, — Helpful and kind, with no fantastic fribbles; She hath the art, if thou the time canst borrow.
With roots of power to give thee healing thorough.
But I will not be healed! my aim is mighty: I will not be, like others, meanly flighty!
The noble fountain’s cure neglect thou not: But quick dismount! We’ve reached the spot.
And whither, in this dreary night, hast thou To land through pebbly rivers brought me now?
Here Rome and Greece in battle tried their powers; Here flows Peneus, there Olympus towers, — The greatest realm that e’er was lost in sand. The monarch flies, the conquering burghers stand Look up and see, in moonlight shining clear, The memorable, eternal Temple near!
MANTO (dreaming 7oiihin],
From horse-hoofs tremble
The sacred stej)s of the Temple!
The Demigods draw near.
CHIRON,
Quite right!
Open your eyes, and see who’s here!
MANTO (aiaakiiti;). Welcome! Thou dost not fail, I see.
And still thy temple stands for thee!
MANTO,
And speedest thou still unremitting?
And thou in peaceful calm art sitting, While I rejoice in restless heels?

Manto

I wait, and Time around me wheels. And he?
The vortex of this night Hath whirled him hither to thy sight. Helen, with mad, distracted senses, Helen he’d win by all pretences, And knows not how or where the task commences; But he deserves the Esculapian cure.
To whom the Impossible is lure I love.
(Chiron is already far auay.)
Rash one, advance! there’s joy for thee! This dark way leads thee to Persephone. Under Olympus’ hollow foot, Secret, she waits prohibited salute. I smuggled Orpheus in to her, of old: Use thy chance better I On!—be bold!
[They descend.

III

On the Upper Peneus, as Before. Sirens

PLUNGE in cool Peneus’ wave! There ’tis well to sport in swimming, Songs with chorded voices hymning, That the ill-starred folk we save.
Health is none where water fails! Let our hosts, with sounding pæan, Hasten to the blue Ægean, Where each joy shall swell our sails.
(Earthquake.)
Back the frothy wave is flowing,
Now no longer downward going;
Shakes the bed, the waters roar,
Cracks and smokes the stony shore.
Let us fly! Come, every one!
By this marvel profit none.
Leave, ye guests, this wild commotion
For the cheerful sports of Ocean,
Shining, where the quivering reaches,
Lightly heaving, bathe the beaches, —
There, where Luna’s double splendour
Freshens us with night-dews tender.
There the freest life delights us;
Here the threatening Earthquake frights us:
Who is prudent, haste away!
Fearful is it, here to stay.
(growling and jolting in the depths).
Once again the force applying, Bravely with the shoulders prying, We to get above are trying. Where to us must all give way.

Sphinxes

What a most repulsive shaking. Terrible and hideous quaking! What a quivering and shocking. Hither rolling, thither rocking! What vexation and dismay! But we shall not change our station. Were all Hell in agitation.... Now behold a dome upswelling, Wonderful! ’Tis he, compelling,— He, the hoary, antiquated. He who Delos’ isle created, Bidding it from ocean break. For the child-ed woman’s sake. He, with all his force expended, Rigid arms and shoulders bended,
Like an Atlas m ^.^.f/^.^^n vesture, Pushes up ^^I’^^’jT^nd sbiugle. Loam and g^^^’ f ^^d ,iver mingle: i^^^^’rvalS^bosom quiet Thus our valley s^^^i, riot.
Buried still below ^issho^^^^d But no lurther shall be g ^^^^^^_ For the Sphmxes here arc v

Seismos

1 oinne I’ve undertaken; The work alone '.^e ^^.
The credit >v’ \ J^ S^^’^ed, and shaken Had 1 not joUed shoxe, ^^^^^^^^,3 |,e?
How stood aloii iu
m pure and ^P^endid blu^ ^^,^^^
Had 1 not heaved w.th h ge e ^^^^^,
Till they, hke P^’-t^J^^^’^emory brightens, When, -here anestra m ^^^ y^^^ ^^^^^^^a,
S^^i^^SLfJ-Sballswepla^d Until, outu-ar;ed, at the 1^^^ ^^^^^^^^^ ]
rSSs;Xiii^^^^
[?^SS^^-Jt?cr^.stance
Thus have fp^^^^^^^^f f,om the deep; And struggled ^’V^^^^^’ existence And summon now to new The joyous dwellers 01

Sphinxes

’Tis true, the hiUwouid seem i^rimeval, And warranted of old to St ^^^^^^^
Had we not w.—^^^^^^^^ I, .^nd Toilmg and to^^ermg ^^^^^^ ^^g f^r^,
A Sphinx, therefrom, is by no fear o’ertakcn: We shall not let our sacred seats be shaken.

Griffins

Gold in spangle, leaf, and spark Glimmers through the fissures darlc. Quick, lest others should detect it. Haste, ye Emmets, and collect it!

Chorus of Emmets

As they, the giant ones, Upward have thrown it. Quick-footed, pliant ones, Climb it and own it! Rapidly in and out! In each such fissure Is every crumb about Wealth for the wisher! Seek for them greedily. Even the slightest: Everywhere speedily Gather the brightest! Diligent be, and bold — Swarm to the fountain: Only bring in the Gold! Heed not the Mountain!
GRIFFINS,
Come in! come in!—the treasure heap! Our claws upon it we shall keep. The most efficient bolts they are;
The greatest wealth they safely bar.

Pygmies

Verily, here we sit securely; How it happened, is not clear. Ask not whence we came; for surely ’Tis enough that we are here. Unto Life’s delighted dwelling Suitable is every land; Where a rifted rock is swelling, Also is the Dwarf at hand. Male and female, busy, steady, We as models would suffice: Who can tell if such already Laboured so in Paradise?
Here our lot as best we measure, And our star of fate is blest: Mother Earth brings forth with pleasure, In the East as in the West.

Dactyls

If she, in a single night, The Pygmies brought to light, Pygmiest of all she’ll create yet. And each find his mate yet!

Pygmy-elders

Be ye, in haste. Conveniently placed! Labour, and lead Strength unto speed! Peace is yet with ye, Build now the smithy, — The host be arrayed With armour and blade! Emmets, laborious, Working victorious, Scorning to settle, Furnish us metal! Dactyls, your host, Smallest and most, Hear the requiring. Bring wood for firing! Heap in the chambers Fuel, untiring: Furnish us embers!

Generalissimo

With arrow and bow, Encounter the foe! By yonder tanks The heron-ranks, The countless-nested, The haughty-breasted, At one quick blow Shoot, and bring low; All together, That we may feather Our helmets so.

Emmets and Dactyls

Who now will save us! We bring the iron, And chains enslave us. To break our fetters Were now defiant; We bide our season, — Meanwhile, be pliant!

The Cranes of Ibycus

Murder-cries and moans of dying!
Startled wings that flap in flying!
What lament, what pain and fright
Pierces to our airy height!
All have fallen in the slaughter.
Reddening with their blood the water;
Pygmy-lust, misformed and cruel,
Robs the heron of his jewel.
On their helms the plumage waves,—
Yonder fat-paunched, bow-legged knaves!
Comrades of our files of motion,
Serried wanderers of ocean.
You we summon to requital
In a cause to you so vital.
Strength and blood let no one spare!
Endless hate to them we swear!
(They disperse, croaking in the air.) Mephistopheles (on the plain).
With ease the Northern witches I controlled, But o’er these foreign sprites no power I hold. The Blocksberg is a most convenient place; Howe’er one strays, one can his path retrace. Dame Use watches for us from her stone, And Henry sits upon his mountain-throne:
The Snorers snarl at Elend—snorting peers, — And all is finished for a thousand years. But here, who knows if, even where he stand, Beneath his feet may not puff up the land? I cheerily wander through a level glade, And, all at once, behind me heaved, is made A mountain—scarcely to be called so, true; Yet high enough the Sphinxes from my view To intercept,... Still many a fire flares out Adown the vale, the mad concern about....
Still dance and hover, beckoning and retreating, The gay groups round me, with their knavish greeting. But gently now! For, spoiled by stealthy pleasure, One always seeks to snatch some dainty treasure.
LAMIAE (drawing Mephistopheles after them). Quicker and quicker! And further take him! Then hesitating. Chattering and prating! ’Tis fun to make him — Old, sinful Tricker! — Follow behind us: To penance comes he With halt-foot clumsy; He marches hobbling, And forwards wobbling; His leg he trails In haste to find us; We fly—he fails.
MEPHISTOPHELES (standing still). Accursed fate! Deceived, as oft! Since Adam’s time seduced and scoffed! Though old we grow, not wisely schooled: Enough already I’ve been fooled! We know, how wholly worthless is the race, With body corseted and painted face; Of health responsive own they not a tittle, Where’er one grasps them, every limb is brittle. The thing is known, and patent to our glances. And yet, whene’er the trollops pipe, one dances.
LAMIAE (pausing). Halt! he reflects; his steps delay: Turn back to meet him, lest he get away!
MEPHISTOPHELES (striding forwards). Forwards! the doubt, my strength benumbing, I won’t encourage foolishly; For were the witches not forthcoming, Why, who the devil would Devil be!
LAMIAE (very graciously). Round this hero lightly moving. Let his heart, the choice approving, One of us select for loving!
True, in this uncertain lustre, Seem ye fair maids, in a cluster; Fain would I to you be juster.
EMPUSA (pressing forwards).
Not me, too? I’m also fitted In your train to be admitted!

Lamiae

She’s one too many; for, in short, She always ruins all our sport.
EMPUSA (to MEPHISTOPHELES).
Empusa, with the ass’s foot.
Thy cousin dear, gives thee salute!
Only a horse’s hoof is thine.
And yet, Sir Cousin, greeting fine!
Strangers I here anticipated. And find, alas! my near-related: The old tale—instances by dozens — From Hartz to Hellas always cousins!
I act with promptness and decision;
In many forms could meet thy vision: Yet in thy honour now, instead, Have I put on the ass’s head.
Great things, I see, are here portended, Thus with the race as kinsman blended: Let come what may, since I have known her- The ass’s head—I’d fain disown her.

Lamiae

Leave her, the Ugly! She doth scare Whatever lovely seems and fair; Whate’er was lovely, fair to see. When she comes, ceases so to be.
These cousins also,—soft, delicious. Are one and all to me suspicious:
I fear, beneath their cheeks of roses Some metamorphosis reposes.
But try—take hold! For we are many, And if thou hast a lucky penny, Secure thyself the highest prize! What means thy wanton organ-grinding? A wretched wooer ’tis, we’re finding, Yet swagger’st thus, and seem’st so wise! Now one of us will he lay hand on, So by degrees your masks abandon, And show your natures to his eyes!
The fairest here have I selected....
(Clasping her.) O, what a broomstick, unexpected!
(Grasping another.) And this one?... Vilest countenance!
LAMIAE. Think not thou’rt worth a better chance!
That little one, she warms my gizzard... But through my hand she slips, a lizard; Her smooth braids, snaky-like, entwine, I try the tall one, yet she worse is, - I only grasp a Bacchic thyrsus. The head a scaly cone of pine. What follows next? Behold a fat one: Perhaps I’ll find delight in that one. So, once for all, the chance renew! The Turks, for one so puffy, flabby, Would pay a price by no means shabby. But, ah! the puff-ball bursts in two!
Now scatter widely, hovering, feigning, In lightning-like, dark flight enchaining The interloping witch’s-son! Uncertain circles, awful, poiseless! Horrid bat-wings, flying noiseless! He ‘scapes too cheaply, when it’s done.
MEPHISTOPHELES (shaking himself).
I’ve not become, it seems, a great deal shrewder;
The North’s absurd, ’tis here absurdcr, ruder,
The spectres here preposterous as there,
People and poets shallow ware.
This masquerade resembles quite —
As everywhere—a dance of appetite.
I sought a lovely masked procession,
And caught such things, I stood aghast....
I’d give myself a false impression.
If this would only longer last.
(Losing himself among the rocks.)
Where am I then? and whither sped?
There was a path; ’tis now a dread.
By level ways I’ve wandered hither.
Where rubble now is piled together.
I clamber up and down in vain;
Where shall I find my Sphinx again?
I had not dreamed so mad a sight, —
A mountain in a single night!
A bold witch-journey, to my thought:
Their Blocksberg with them they have brought.
OREAD (from the natural rock).
Come up to me! My mountain old
In its primeval form behold!
Revere the steep and rocky stairs, ascending
Where Pindus’ offshoots with the plain are blending,
Unshaken, thus I heaved my head
When o’er my shoulders Pompey fled.
Beside me this illusive rock
Will vanish at the crow of cock.
I see such fables oft upthrown,
And suddenly again go down.
Honour to thee, thou reverend Head,
With strength of oak engarlanded!
The clearest moonlight never cleaves
The darkness of your crowded leaves.
I see between the bushes go
A light, with unpretending glow.
How all things lit and balance thus!
’Tis verily Homunculus.
Now whence thy way, thou little lover?
From place to place I flit and hover,
And, in the best sense, I would fain exist,
And most impatient am, my glass to shatter:
But what till now I’ve witnessed, is’t
Then strange if I mistrust the matter?
Yet I’ll be confidential, if thou list:
I follow two Philosophers this way.
’Twas “Nature!” “Nature!”—all I heard them say;
I’ll cling to them, and see what they are seeing,
For they must understand this earthly being,
And I shall doubtless learn, in season,
Where to betake me with the soundest reason.
Then do it of thy own accord!
For here, where spectres from their hell come,
Is the philosopher also welcome.
That so his art and favour delectate you.
At once a dozen new ones he’ll create you.
Unless thou errest, thou wilt ne’er have sense,
Wouldst thou exist, thyself the work commence!
Good counsel, also, is not to reject.
Then go thy way! We further will inspect.
[They separate.
ANAXAGORAS (to THALES).
Thy stubborn mind will not be Tightened: What else is needful, that thou be enlightened?
To every wind the billows yielding are;
Yet from the cliff abrupt they keep themselves afar,
By fiery vapours rose this rock you’re seeing.
In moisture came organic life to being.
HOMUNCULUS (between the two). To walk with you may I aspire? To come to being is my keen desire.
Hast thou, O Thales! ever in a night
Brought forth from mud such mountain to the light?
Nature, the living current of her powers, Was never bound to Day and Night and Hours; She makes each form by rules that never fail. And ’tis not Force, even on a mighty scale.
But here it was!—Plutonic fire, the shaper! Explosive force of huge Æolian vapour Broke through the level Earth’s old crust primeval, And raised the new hill with a swift upheaval!
What further shall therefrom result? The hill Is there: ’tis well !—so let it stand there still! In such a strife one loses leisure precious, Yet only leads the patient folk in leashes.
The Mountain’s rocky clefts at once Are peopled thick with Myrmidons, With Pygmies, Emmets, Fingerlings; And other active little things.
(To HOMUNCULUS.)
To greatness hast thou ne’er aspired, But lived an eremite retired; Canst thou persuade thy mind to govern, I’ll have thee chosen as their sovereign.
What says my Thales?
— Will not recommends For small means only unto small deeds tend, But great means make the small man great. See there! The Cranes, with purpose heinous!— The troubled populace they menace. And they would menace thus the king. With pointed beaks and talons ample The little men they pierce and trample; Doom comes already thundering.
It was a crime, the heron-slaughter,
Beset amid their peaceful water;
But from that rain of arrows deadly
A fell revenge arises redly,
And calls the kindred o’er the flood
To spill the Pygmies’ guilty blood.
What use for shield and helm and spear?
Or for the dwarfs the heron-feather?
Dactyl and Emmet hide together:
Their cohorts scatter, seek the rear!
ANAXAGORAS (after a pause, solemnly). Though I the subterranean powers approve, Yet help, in this case, must be sought above.... O thou aloft, in grace and vigour vernal, Tri-named, tri-featured, and eternal, By all my people’s woe I cry to thee, Diana, Luna, Hecate!
Thou breast-expanding One, thou deeply-pondering, Thou calmly-shining One, majestic wandering. The fearful craters of thy shade unseal. And free from spells thine ancient might reveal!
(Pause.)
Am I too swiftly heard?
Has then my cry
To yonder sky,
The course of Nature from its orbit stirred?
And greater, ever greater, drawing near.
Behold the Goddess’ orbèd throne appear.
Enormous, fearful in its grimness,
With fires that redden through the dimness!...
No nearer! Disk of dread, tremendous.
Lest thou, with land and sea, to ruin send us!
Then were it true, Thessalian Pythonesses
With guilty spells, as Song confesses,
Once from thy path thy steps enchanted,
Till fatal gifts by thee were granted?...
The shield of splendour slowly darkles.
Then suddenly splits, and shines, and sparkles!
What rattling and what hissing follow.
With roar of winds and thunders hollow!—
Before thy throne I speak my error....
O, pardon; I invoked the terror.
(Casts himself upon his face.)
How many things can this man see and hear! What happed, is not to me entirely clear; I’ve not, like him, experienced it. The Hours are crazy, we’ll admit; For Luna calmly shines, and free, In her high place, as formerly.
Look yonder where the Pygmies fled!
The round Hill has a pointed head.
I felt a huge rebound and shock;
Down from the moon had fallen the rock,
And, then, without the least ado.
Both foe and friend it smashed and slew.
I praise such arts as these, that show
Creation in a night fulfilled;
That from above and from below
At once this mountain-pile could build.
Be still! ’Twas but imagined so.
Farewell, then, to the ugly brood!
That thou wast not their king, is good.
Off to the cheerful festals of the Sea!
There, as a marvellous guest, they’ll honour thee.
(They depart. MEPHISTOPHELES (climbing up the opposite side).
Here must I climb by steep and rocky stairways,
And roots of ancient oaks—the vilest rare ways!
Upon my Hartz, the resinous atmosphere
Gives hint of pitch, to me almost as dear
As sulphur is,—but here, among these Greeks,
For such a smell one long and vainly seeks;
And curious am I—for ’tis worth the knowing —
To find wherewith they keep their fires of Hell a-going.

Dryad

At home, be wise as it befits thee there;
Abroad, thou hast no cleverness to spare.
Thou shouldst not homeward turn thy mind, but hers
The honour of the ancient oaks revere.

Mephistopheles

One thinks on all relinquished there; Use made it Paradise, and keeps it fair. But say, what is ’t, in yonder cave Obscure, a crouching triple-shape resembling?

Dryad

The Phorkyads! Go there, if thou art brave; Address them, if thou canst, untrembling!
Why not?... I something see, and am dumbfounded! Proud as I am, I must confess the truth: I’ve never seen their like, in sooth, —
Worse than our hags, an Ugliness unbounded! How can the Deadly Sins then ever be Found ugly in the least degree. When one this triple dread shall see? We would not suffer them to dwell Even at the dreariest door of Hell; But here, in Beauty’s land, the Greek, They’re famed, because they’re called antique.,., They stir, they seem to scent my coming; Like vampire-bats, they’re squeaking, twittering, humming.
Give me the eye, my sisters, that it spy Who to our temple ventures now so nigh.
Most honoured Dame! Approaching, by your leave,
Grant that your triple blessing I receive.
I come, though still unknown, yet, be it stated,
If I mistake not, distantly related.
Old, reverend Gods, already did I see;
To Ops and Rhea have I bowed the knee;
The Parcae even—your sisters—yesterday,
Or day before, they came across my way;
And yet the like of you ne’er met my sight:
Silent am I, and ravished with delight.
This spirit seems to have intelligence.
I am amazed no poet has the sense
To sing your praises,—say, how can it be
That we no pictures of your beauty see?
Should not, through you, the chisel strive to wean us
From shapes like those of Juno, Pallas, Venus?
Sunken in solitude and stillest night, The mind of us ne’er took so far a flight.
How should it, then? since here, concealed from view,
None ever see you, none are seen by you!
But choose those dwelling-places, and be known,
Where Art and Splendour share an equal throne;
Where swift, with double tread, day after day,
A marble block as hero walks away;
Where—
Cease, and rouse in us no longer vision! What profit, if we knew them with precision? — We, born in night, akin to gloom alone, Unto ourselves almost, to others quite, unknown.
In such a case there’s little more to say,
But one one’s self to others can convey.
One eye supplies you three, one tooth as well,
So were it mythologically possible
In two the being of the Three to cover.
And unto me the third fair form make over,
A short time, only.
ONE.
Will it do, forsooth?

The Others

We’ll try it!—but without or eye or tooth. MEPHISTOPHELES.
Now just the best thing have you taken away. How shall I then the image stern display?
ONE.
’Tis easily done: just close one eye, And let thy one side-tusk be seen thereby: In profile, thus, with not a trait diminished, Thy sisterly resemblance will be finished.
So be it, then!

Mephistopheles. The Phorkyads

So be it!
(as PHORKYAD in profile).
Me behold, The much-beloved son of Chaos old!
Daughters of Chaos are we, by good right.
Disgrace! They’ll call me now hermaphrodite.
In our new sister-triad what a beauty!
Two eyes have we, two teeth, for further duty.
Now from all eyes I’ll hide this visage fell, To fright the devils in the pool of Hell.
[Exit.

IV

Rocky Coves of the ægean Sea

The Moon delaying in the Zenith.
SIRENS (couched upon the cliffs around, fluting and singing). THOUGH erewhile, by spells nocturnal, Thee Thessalian hags infernal Downward drew, with guilt intended, — Look, from where thine arch is bended, On the multitudinous, splendid
Twinkles of the billowy Ocean! Shine upon the throngs in motion O’er the waters, wild and free! To thy service vowed are we: Fairest Luna, gracious be!
(as Wonders of the Sea).
Call with clearer, louder singing,
Through the Sea’s broad bosom ringing,
Call the tenants of the Deep!
When the storm swept unimpeded
We to stillest depths receded;
Forth at sound of song we leap.
See! delighted and elated,
We ourselves have decorated,
With our golden crowns have crowned us,
With our spangled girdles bound us.
Chains and jewels hung around us!
All are spoils which you purvey!
Treasures, here in shipwreck swallowed,
You have lured, and we have followed
You, the Daemons of our bay.
In the crystal cool, delicious, Smoothly sport the happy fishes, Pliant lives that nothing mar; Yet, ye festive crowds that gather, We, to-day, would witness, rather, That ye more than fishes are.
We, before we hither wandered, Thoroughly the question pondered: Sisters, Brothers, speed afar! Briefest travel, light endurance, Yield the validest assurance That we more than fishes are.
[They depart.
Off! they have left the place,
Steering away to Samothrace,
Vanished with favouring wind.
What is their purpose there, in the dreary
Domain of the lofty Cabiri?
Gods are they, but the strangest crew. Ever begetting themselves anew, And unto their own being blind.
In thy meridian stay, Luna!—graciously delay. That the Night shall embrace us, And the Day not chase us!
(on the shore, to HoMUNCULUS). I fain would lead thee unto Nereus old. Not distant are we from his cavern cold, But stubbornness is his delight, The peevish and repulsive wight. Howe’er the human race has tried. The Grumbler’s never satisfied: Yet he the Future hath unsealed, And men thereto their reverence yield, And give him honour in his station. Many his benefits have tasted.
Then let us try, without more hesitation!
My glass and flame will not at once be wasted.
NEREUS. Are human voices those that reach mine ear? At once my wrath is kindled, keen and clear. Aspiring forms, that high as Gods would ramble, Yet ever damned their own selves to resemble. In ancient years could I divinely rest, Yet was impelled to benefit the Best; And when, at last I saw my deeds completed, It fully seemed as were the work defeated.
And yet we trust thee, Graybeard of the Sea! Thou art the Wise One: drive us not from thee! Behold this Flame, in man’s similitude: It yields itself unto thy counsel good.
What! Counsel! When did ever men esteem it? Wise words in hard ears are but lifeless lore. Oft as the Act may smite them when they scheme it. The People are as self-willed as before.
How warned I Paris, in paternal trust, Before a foreign woman woke his lust! Upon the Grecian strand he stood so bold; I saw in spirit, and to him foretold The smoky winds, the overwhelming woe, Beams all a-blaze, murder and death below, — Troy’s judgment-day, held fast in lofty rhyme, A terror through a thousand years of time! My words seemed sport unto the reckless one His lust he followed: fallen was Ilion, — A giant carcass, stiff, and hacked with steel, To Pindus’ eagles ’twas a welcome meal. Ulysses, too! did I not him presage The wiles of Circe and the Cyclops’ rage? His paltering mind, his crew’s inconstant strain, And what not all ?—and did it bring him gain? Till him, though late, the favouring billow bore, A much-tossed wanderer, to the friendly shore.
Such conduct, truly, gives the wise man pain, And yet the good man once will try again. An ounce of gratitude, his help repaying, Tons of ingratitude he sees outweighing. And nothing trifling now we beg of thee; The boy here wishes to be born, and be.
Let not my rarest mood be spoiled, I pray;
Far other business waits for me to-day.
I’ve hither bidden, by the wave and breeze.
The Graces of the Sea, the Dorides.
Olympus bears not, nor your lucent arch,
Such lovely forms, in such a lightsome march:
They fling themselves, in wild and wanton dalliance.
From the sea-dragons upon Neptune’s stallions,
Blent with the element so freely, brightly.
That even the foam appears to lift them lightly.
In Venus’ chariot-shell, with hues of morn,
Comes Galatea, now the fairest, borne;
Who, since that Cypris turned from us her face,
In Paphos reigns as goddess in her place.
Thus she, our loveliest, long since came to own,
As heiress, templed town and chariot-throne.
Away! the father’s hour of rapture clips
Hate from the heart, and harshness from the lips.
Away to Proteus! Ask that wondrous man Of Being’s and of Transformation’s plan!
[He retires towards the sea. THALES.
We, by this step, gain nothing: one may meet Proteus, and straight he melts, dissolving fleet. Though he remain, he only says That which confuses and astonishes. However, of such counsel thou hast need; So, at a venture, let us thither speed!
[They depart. SIRENS (on the rocks above).
What is ’t, that, far advancing, Glides o’er the billows dancing? As, when the winds are shifted, Shine snowy sails, uplifted, So shine they o’er the waters, Transfigured Ocean-daughters. We’ll clamber down, and, near them, Behold their forms, and hear them.
What in our hands we bear you Much comfort shall prepare you. Chelone’s buckler giant Shines with its forms defiant: — They’re Gods that we are bringing: High songs must you be singing!
Small to the sight. Great in their might, — Saviours of the stranded, Ancient Gods, and banded.
We bring you the Cabiri To festals calm and cheery; For where their sway extendeth Neptune the realm befriendeth.
We yield to your claim; When a shipwreck came, Irresistibly you Protected the crew.
NEREIDS AND TRITONS,
Three have we brought hither, The fourth refused us altogether: He was the right one, said he, — Their only thinker ready.
SIRENS. One God the other God Smites with the scoffer’s rod: Honour all grace they bring, Fear all evil they fling!
Seven are they, really.
Where, then, stay the other three?
The truth we cannot gather: Ask on Olympus, rather! There pines the eighth, forgotten, By no one ever thought on! In grace to us entreated, But not yet all completed.
These incomparable, unchainable, Are always further yearning, With desire and hunger burning For the Unattainable!
These are our ways: The God that sways Sun, Moon, or other blaze, We worship: for it pays.
Highest glory for us behold, Leading these festals cheery!
The heroes of the ancient time
Fail of their glory’s prime.
Where and howe’cr it may unfold;
Though they have won the Fleece of Gold,-
Ye, the Cabiri! —
(Repeated as full chorus.) Though they have won the Fleece of Gold, — We! Ye! the Cabiri! (The Nereids and Tritons move past.)
These Malformations, every one, Had earthen pots for models: Against them now the wise men run, And break their stubborn noddles
That is the thing one wishes, just! The coin takes value from its rust.
PROTEUS (unperceived).
This pleases me, the old fable-ranger! The more respectable, the stranger.
Where art thou, Proteus?
PROTEUS (speaking ventriloquially, now near, now at a distance).
Here! and here!
I pardon thee thine ancient jeer.
Cheat not a friend with vain oration:
Thou speak’st, I know, from a delusive station.
PROTEUS (as if at a distance). Farewell!
THALES (softly to HOMUNCULUS).
He is quite near: shine brilliantly! For curious as a fish is he; And in whatever form he hide, A flame will make him hither glide.
HOMUNCULUS. At once a flood of light I’ll fling, Yet softly, lest the grass should spring.
PROTEUS (in the form of a giant tortoise). What shines so fair, so graciously?
THALES (covering Homunculus),
Good! If thou wishest, canst thou nearer see. Be not annoyed to take a little trouble, And show thyself on man’s foundation double. What we disclose, to whomsoe’er would see it. With our will only, by our favour, be it!
PROTEUS (in a noble form). Still world-wise pranks thou failest to forget,
To change thy form remains thy pleasure yet. (He uncovers Homunculus.)
PROTEUS (astonished). A shining dwarf! The like I ne’er did see!
He asks thy counsel, he desires to be.
He is, as I myself have heard him say,
(The thing’s a marvel!) only born half-way.
He has no lack of qualities ideal.
But far too much of palpable and real.
Till now the glass alone has given him weight,
And he would fain be soon incorporate,
PROTEUS,
Thou art a genuine virgin’s son: Finished, ere thou shouldst be begun!
THALES (whispering). Viewed from another side, the thing seems critical; He is, methinks, hermaphroditical!

Proteus

Then all the sooner ’twill succeed:
Let him but start, ’twill be arranged with speed.
No need to ponder here his origin;
On the broad ocean’s breast must thou begin!
One starts there first within a narrow pale.
And finds, destroying lower forms, enjoyment:
Little by little, then, one climbs the scale,
And fits himself for loftier employment.
HOMUNCULUS, Here breathes and blows a tender air; And I delight me in the fragrance rare.
Yea, verily, my loveliest stripling!
And farther en, far more enjoyable.
Around yon narrow spit the waves are rippling,
The halo bright and undestroyable!
There to the host we’ll nearer be,
Now floating hither o’er the sea.
Come with me there!
I’ll go alone.
A spirit-purpose, triply strong!
TELCHINES OF RHODES. On Sea- Horses and Sea-Dragons, wielding Neptune’s Trident.
WE’VE forged for old Neptune the trident that urges To smoothness and peace the refractory surges When Jove tears the clouds of the tempest asunder, ’Tis Neptune encounters the roll of the thunder: The lightnings above may incessantly glow, But wave upon wave dashes up from below, And all that, between them, the terrors o’erpower. Long tossed and tormented, the Deep shall devour; And thence he hath lent us his sceptre to-day. — Now float we contented, in festal array.
You, to Helios consecrated, To the bright Day’s blessing fated,— You to this high Hour we hail: Luna’s worship shall prevail!

Telchines

O loveliest Goddess by night over-vaulted! Thou hearest with rapture thy brother exalted: To listen to Rhodes thou wilt lean from the skies; To him, there, the paeans eternally rise.
When the day he begins, when he ends its career, His beam is the brightest that falls on us here. The mountains, the cities, the sea and the shore, Are lovely and bright to the God they adore: No mist hovers o’er us, and should one appear, A beam and a breeze, and the Island is clear! There Phoebus his form may by hundreds behold,— Colossal, as youth, as the Gentle, the Bold; For we were the first whose devotion began To shape the high Gods in the image of Man.

Proteus

But leave them to their boasting, singing!
Beside the holy sunbeams, bringing
All life, their dead works are a jest.
They melt and cast, with zeal impassioned,
And what they once in bronze have fashioned,
They think it’s something of the best.
These proud ones are at last made lowly:
The forms of Gods, that stood and shone,
Were by an earthquake overthrown.
And long since have been melted wholly.
This earthly toil, whate’er it be,
Is never else than drudgery:
A better life the waves declare thee,
And now to endless seas shall bear thee
Proteus-Dolphin.
(He transforms himself).
’Tis done! Behold! Unto thy fairest fortune waken: Upon my back shalt thou be taken, And wedded to the Ocean old.
Yield to the wish so wisely stated. And at the source be thou created! Be ready for the rapid plan! There, by eternal canons wending, Through thousand, myriad forms ascending, Thou shalt attain, in time, to Man.
(HoMUNCULUS mounts the Proteus-Dolphin.)
PROTEUS. In spirit seek the watery distance! Boundless shall there be thine existence,
And where to move, thy will be free. But struggle not to higher orders! Once Man, within the human borders. Then all is at an end for thee.
That’s as it haps: ’tis no ill fate
In one’s own day to be true man and great.
PROTEUS (to ThALES).
Some one, perchance, of thine own kind!
Their lives continue long, I find;
For with thy pallid phantom-peers
I’ve seen thee now for many hundred years.
SIRENS (on the rocks).
See! what rings of cloudlets, gliding Round the moon, in circles play! They are doves whom Love is guiding, With their wings as white as day. Paphos either sends them fleetly, All her ardent birds, to us. And our festival completely Crowns with purest rapture, thus!
NEREUS (advancing to Thales).
Though some nightly wanderer’s vision Deem yon ring an airy spectre, We, the spirits, with decision Entertain a view correcter: They are doves, whose convoy gathers Round my daughter’s chariot-shell, With a flight of wondrous spell, Learned in old days of the fathers.
That I also think is best. Which the true man comfort gives, When in warm and peaceful nest Something holy for him lives.
PSYLLI AND MARSI (on sea-bulls, sea-heifers, and sea-rams). In hollow caves on Cyprus’ shore. By the Sea-God still unbattered. Not yet by Seismos shattered, By eternal winds breathed o’er,
And still, as in days that are measured,
Contented and silently pleasured,
The chariot of Cypris we’ve treasured.
By the murmurs, the nightly vibrations,
O’er the waves and their sweetest pulsations,
Unseen to the new generations,
The loveliest daughter we lead.
We fear not, as lightly we hie on,
Either Eagle or wing-lifted Lion,
Either Crescent or Cross,
Though the sky it emboss, —
Though it changefully triumphs and flashes.
In defeat to forgetfulness dashes.
Lays the fields and the cities in ashes!
Straightway, with speed.
The loveliest of mistresses forth we lead.
Lightly moved, with paces graver, Circle round the car again; Line on line inwoven, waver Snake-like in a linking chain, — Stalwart Nereids, come, enring us, Rudest women, wild and free; Tender Dorides, ye bring us Her, the Mother of the Sea, — Galatea, god-like woman, Worthiest immortality. Yet, like those of lineage human, Sweet with loving grace is she.
(in chorus, mounted on dolphins, passing Nereus).
Lend us, Luna, light and shadow, Show this youthful flower and fire! For we bring beloved spouses, Praying for them to our sire.
(To Nereus.)
They are boys, whom we have rescued From the breaker’s teeth of dread; They, on reeds and mosses bedded, - Back to light and life we led: Now must they, with glowing kisses, Thank us for the granted blisses; On the youths thy favour shed!

Nereus

Lo, now! what double gains your deed requite! You show compassion, and you take delight.
If thou praisest our endeavour, Father, grant the fond request, — Let us hold them fast for ever On each young, immortal breast.
Take joy in what you’ve finely captured,
And shape to men the youthful crew;
I cannot grant the boon enraptured
Which only Zeus can give to you.
The billows, as they heave and rock you,
Allow to love no firmer stand.
So, when these fancies fade and mock you,
Send quietly the youths to land.

Dorides

Fair boys, we must part, forsooth; Yet we love you, we vow it! We have asked for eternal truth, But the Gods will not allow it.

The Youths

We sailor-boys, if still you would Give love, as first you gave it, We’ve never had a life so good, And would not better have it! (Galatea approaches on her chariot of shell.)
’Tis thou, O my darling!

Galatea

O, Sire! what delight!
Linger, ye dolphins! I cling to the sight.
Already past, they swiftly wander
On, in circling courses wheeling!
What care they for the heart’s profoundest feeling?
Ah, would they took me with them yonder!
Yet a single glance can cheer
All the livelong barren year.

Thales

Hail! All hail! with newer voices:
How my spirit rejoices,
By the True and the Beautiful penetrated!
From Water was everything first created!
Water doth everything still sustain!
Ocean, grant us thine endless reign!
If the clouds thou wert sending not,
The swelling streams wert spending not,
The winding rivers bending not,
And all in thee were ending not.
Could mountains, and plains, and the world itself, be?
The freshest existence is nourished by thee.
ECHO (chorus of the collective circles). The freshest existence flows ever from thee!
They turn and wheel again, afar;
No longer face to face they are.
In linking circles, wide extending,—
In their festive dances blending,—
The countless cohorts now appear.
But Galatea’s chariot-shell
Still I see, and see it well:
It shines like a star
Through the crowds intwining.
Love from the tumult still is shining!
Though ne’er so far,
It shimmers bright and clear,
Ever true and near.
This softly heaving brine on, Whatever I may shine on Is all with beauty crowned.
Within this moisture living. Thy lamp now first is giving A clear and splendid sound.
What mystery new, ’mid the crowds that are wheeling, Is now to our vision its wonders revealing?
What flames round the shell at the feet of the Queen?— Now flaring in force, and now shining serene, As if by the pulses of love it were fed.
Homunculus is it, by Proteus misled!... And these are the signs of imperious yearning, The presage of swelling, impatiently spurning: He’ll shiver his glass on the glittering throne — He glows and he flashes, and now he hath flown!
What fiery marvel the billows enlightens, As one on the other is broken and brightens? It flashes, and wavers, and hitherward plays! On the path of the Night are the bodies ablaze, And all things around are with flames overrun: Then Eros be ruler, who all things begun!
Hail, ye Waves! Hail, Sea unbounded, By the holy Fire surrounded! Water, Hail! Hail, Fire, the splendid! Hail, Adventure rarely ended!

All Together

Hail, ye Airs that softly flow!
Hail, ye caves of Earth below! Honoured now and evermore Be the Elemental Four!