The Second Part
OF THE TRAGEDY
FAUST, reclining on flowery turf, weary, restless, trying to sleep. SPIRITS, charming little figures forming a circle,hovering about.
Ariel [song accompanied by Aeolian harps]. When in spring the rain of flowers
Hovering sinketh over all,
When the meadows, bright with showers,
Unto all the earth-born call,
Tiny elves with souls propitious
Haste to help where help they can;
Be he blameless, be he vicious,
They lament the luckless man.
Hovering around this head in circles airy,
Look that ye show the noble law of fairy:
Appease the furious conflict in his heart!
Draw out the burning arrows of remorse,
From suffered horrors cleanse his inmost part!
Four pauses makes the night upon its course:
Hasten to fill them with your kindly art!
His head upon a cooling pillow lay,
Then bathe him in the dew from Lethe's stream!
His limbs, cramp-stiffened, soon will freely play
When rest has made him strong for morn's new beam.
Perform the fairest elfin rite,
Restore him to the holy light!
Chorus [singly, or two or more, alternating and together]. When the breezes, warmth exhaling,
Fill the green-encircled plain,
Twilight sinks its mists enveiling,
Brings sweet fragrance in its train,
Softly whispers peace to mortals,
Rocks the heart to childlike rest,
Closes eyelids, daylight's portals,
Of the weary and oppressed.
Night already sinks and darkles,
Holy follows star on star,
Light now bright, now fainter sparkles,
Glitters near and gleams afar,
Glitters, in the lake reflecting,
Gleams in night's clear canopy;
Deepest slumber's bliss perfecting,
Reigns the moon's full majesty.
Now the hours are passed and over,
Pain and bliss have fled away.
Feel it now! Thou wilt recover!
Trust the gleam of new-born day!
Vales grow green and hills are swelling,
Lure to bowers of rest again;
Harvest's coming now foretelling,
Roll the silvery waves of grain.
If thou every wish wouldst gain thee,
Gaze at yonder glory wide!
Lightly do the bonds restrain thee;
Sleep's a shell, cast it aside!
Be the crowd faint-hearted, quailing,
Falter not, but be thou bold!
All is his who never-failing
Understands and swift lays hold.
A tremendous tumult announces the approach of the sun.
Ariel. Hark! The storm of hours is nearing! Sounding loud to spirit-hearing,
Is the new-born day appearing.
Rocky portals grate and shatter,
Phoebus' wheels roll forth and clatter.
What a tumult Light brings near!
Trumpets, trombones are resounding,
Eyes are blinking, ears astounding;
The unheard ye shall not hear.
Slip into a flowery bell
Deeper, deeper; quiet dwell
Under the leaf, in the cliff,
If it strikes you, ye are deaf.
Faust. Refreshed anew life's pulses beat and waken To greet the mild ethereal dawn of morning;
Earth, through this night thou too hast stood unshaken
And breath'st before me in thy new adorning,
Beginst to wrap me round with gladness thrilling,
A vigorous resolve in me forewarning,
Unceasing strife for life supreme instilling.-
Now lies the world revealed in twilight glimmer,
The wood resounds, a thousand voices trilling;
The vales where mist flows in and out lie dimmer,
But in the gorges sinks a light from heaven,
And boughs and twigs, refreshed, lift up their shimmer
From fragrant chasms where they slept at even;
Tint upon tint again emerges, clearing
Where trembling pearls from flower and leaf drip riven:
All round me is a Paradise appearing.
Look up!- The peaks, gigantic and supernal,
Proclaim the hour most solemn now is nearing.
They early may enjoy the light eternal
That later to us here below is wended.
Now on the alpine meadows, sloping, vernal,
A clear and lavish glory has descended
And step by step fulfils its journey's ending.
The sun steps forth!- Alas, already blinded,
I turn away, the pain my vision rending.
Thus is it ever when a hope long yearning
Has made a wish its own, supreme, transcending,
And finds Fulfillments portals outward turning;
From those eternal deeps bursts ever higher
Too great a flame, we stand, with wonder burning.
To kindle life's fair torch we did aspire
And seas of flame- and what a flame!- embrace us!
Is it Love? Is it Hate? that twine us with their fire,
In alternating joy and pain enlace us,
So that again toward earth we turn our gazing,
Baffled, to hide in youth's fond veils our faces.
Behind me therefore let the sun be blazing!
The cataract in gorges deeply riven
I view with rapture growing and amazing.
To plunge on plunge in a thousand streams it's given,
And yet a thousand, downward to the valleys,
While foam and mist high in the air are driven.
Yet how superb above this tumult sallies
The many-coloured rainbow's changeful being;
Now lost in air, now clearly drawn, it dallies,
Shedding sweet coolness round us even when fleeing!
The rainbow mirrors human aims and action.
Think, and more clearly wilt thou grasp it, seeing
Life is but light in many-hued reflection.
THE EMPEROR'S PALACE
The State Council awaiting the EMPEROR. Trumpets. Courtiers of all kinds enter, splendidly dressed. The EMPEROR ascends the throne, at his right hand the ASTROLOGER.
Assembled here from far and wide.
Emperor. I greet you, faithful friends and dear,
I see the wise man at my side,
But wherefore is the Fool not here?
A Squire. A pace behind your mantle's sweep There on the stairs he fell in a heap;
They bore away that load of fat,
But dead or drunk? No one knows that.
A Second Squire. Now at a swift, amazing pace Another's pushing to his place.
He's quaintly primped, in truth, and smart,
But such a fright that all men start.
The guards there at the doorway hold
Their halberds crosswise and athwart-
But here he is. The Fool is bold!
Mephistopheles [kneeling before the throne]. What is accursed and welcomed ever?
What's longed for, ever chased away?
What's always taken into favour?
What's harshly blamed, accused each day?
Whom don't you dare to summon here?
Whose name hears gladly every man?
What to your throne is drawing near?
What's placed itself beneath your ban?
Emperor. Your words you may present spare! The place for riddles is not here;
They are these gentlemen's affair.
Solve them yourself! I'd like to hear.
My old fool's gone far, far away, I fear me;
Take you his place and come and stand here near me.
MEPHISTOPHELES mounts the steps and stations himself on the left.
A brand-new fool- new pains begin-
Murmurs of the Crowd.
Whence did he come?- how came he in?-
The old one fell- he's spent and done-
A barrel he- a lath this one-
Emperor. And so, ye faithful whom I love, Be welcome here from near and far.
Ye meet beneath a favouring star;
Fortune is written for us there above.
Yet wherefore in these days, oh, say,
When all our cares we'd thrust away
And wear the mummer's mask in play
And gaiety alone enjoy,
Why should we let state councils us annoy?
But since the task seems one we may not shun,
All is arranged, so be it done.
Chancellor. The highest virtue like an aureole Circles the Emperor's head; alone and sole,
He validly can exercise it:
'Tis justice!- All men love and prize it;
'Tis what all wish, scarce do without, and ask;
To grant it to his people is his task.
But ah! What good to mortal mind is sense,
What good to hearts is kindness, hands benevolence,
When through the state a fever runs and revels,
And evil hatches more and more of evils?
Who views the wide realm from this height supreme,
To him all seems like an oppressive dream,
Where in confusion is confusion reigning
And lawlessness by law itself maintaining,
A world of error evermore obtaining.
This man steals herds, a woman that,
Cross, chalice, candlestick from altar;
For many years his boastings never falter,
His skin intact, his body sound and fat.
Now plaintiffs crowd into the hall,
The judge, encushioned, lords it over all.
Meanwhile in billows, angry, urging,
A growing tumult of revolt is surging.
Great crimes and shame may be the braggart's token,
On worst accomplices he oft depends;
And "Guilty!" is the verdict often spoken
Where Innocence only itself defends.
To pieces is our world now going,
What's fitting loses all its might;
How ever shall that sense be growing
Which, only, leads us to the Right?
At last will men of good intent
To briber, flatterer incline;
A judge who can impose no punishment,
At last with culprits will combine.
I've painted black, and yet a denser screen
I'd rather draw before the scene.
Pause. Decisions cannot be evaded;
When all do harm and none are aided,
Majesty too becomes a prey.
Commander-in-Chief. In these wild days what riots quicken! Each strikes and he in turn is stricken,
And no command will men obey.
The citizen behind his wall,
The knight upon his rocky nest,
Have sworn to last us out, and all
Maintain their power with stubborn zest.
The mercenaries, restless growing,
Blusteringly demand their pay,
And if to them no more were owing,
They would be quick to run away.
Let one forbid what all men fain expect,
He's put his hand into a hornet's nest;
The empire which they should protect
Lies plundered, [desolate, and waste.
This furious riot no one is restraining,
Already half the world's undone;
Outside the realm kings still are reigning,
But no one thinks it his concern- not one.
The funds they pledged as subsidies,
Treasurer. Who will depend upon allies!
Like leaking pipe-borne water, do not flow.
Then, Sire, of these wide states- yours by succession-
Who now has come into possession?
A new lord rules wherever one may go,
Insist on living independently;
How he keeps house, we must look on and see.
Of rights we've given up so many,
We're left without a claim to any.
And as to parties, of whatever name,
There's been no trust in them of late;
They may give praise or they may blame,
Indifferent are their love and hate.
To rest them well from all their labour
Lie hidden Ghibelline and Guelph.
Who is there now who'll help his neighbour?
Each has enough to help himself.
Barred are the gates where gold is stored,
And all men scratch and scrape and hoard,
And empty all our coffers stay.
Steward. What ills I too must learn to bear!We want each day to save and spare,
And more we're needing every day,
And daily do I see new trouble growing.
The cooks lack nothing, they've no woes;
For boars and stags and hares and roes
And fowls, geese, ducks, and turkeys too,
Allowances-in-kind, sure revenue,
They still are not so badly flowing.
The flow of wine? That, to be sure, is slowing.
Where once in cellars cask on cask was nuzzling,
The best of brands and vintages befuzzling,
Our noble lords' eternal guzzling
Is draining every last drop out.
The City Council's store must now be opened up.
A basin, bowl, is seized as drinking-cup
And under the table ends the drinking-bout.
Now I'm to pay, give each his wages.
The Jew will spare me no outrages,
He'll make advances which for ages
Will put our revenues to rout.
The swine are no more fatten fed,
Pawned is the pillow on the bed,
At table we eat bread for which we owe.
Emperor [after some reflection, to MEPHISTOPHELES].Say, Fool, can you not add a tale of woe?
Mephistopheles. Indeed, not I! I see this ambient splendour,Yourself and yours!- Should one his trust surrender
Where Majesty holds undisputed sway
And ready might sweeps hostile force away?
Where honest purpose holds command
And wisdom guides the active hand?
What can the powers of evil do, combining
To make a darkness where such stars are shining?
That is a rogue- full well he knows-