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FAUST. 



Jl dbamatic fokh. 



■ 

f 



^ *^ t-- #■ 



FAUST: 



A DEAMATIC POEM. 



BT 



GOETHE. 



TRAN8LATED INTO ENGLI8H PROSE, WITH NOTES, 

BT 

A. HAT WARD, Esq. 



SEVBNTH EDITION. 



LONDON: 

EDWAED MOXON & CO., DOVER STREET, 

1860. 




LOZfOON : 
BAADBUBY AM> EVA:«S, PHIMSU8, WHITSPSIAKS. 



PREFACE 



TO THB 



SECOND EDITION OF THE TRANSLATION. 



In this Edition much of the matter has been re- 
arranged, the Notes are augmented by about a third, 
and an Appendix of some length has been annexed. 
The translation itself was found to require only a few 
verbal corrections ; yet even as regards the transla- 
tion, I lay the work before the public with much more 
confidence than formerly, both on aceount of the trying 
ordeal it has passed through, and the many advantages 
I have enjoyed in revising it. 

It is Singular (and to the student of German litera- 
ture at once cheering and delightful) to see the in- 
terest which Germans of the cultivated class take in 
the fame of their great authors, and most particularly 
of Goethe. They seem willing to undergo every sort 
of labour to conyey to foreigners a just impression of 
his excellence ; and many German gentlemen have 
voluntarily undertaken the irksome task of verifying 



VI PBEFACE. 

my translation word for word by the original. The 
amateurs of German literature in this country, also, 
partake of the same spirit of enthusiasm, and I have 
received many yaluable suggestions in consequence. 
My German friends will find that I have retained a few 
expressions objected to by them, but they must do me 
the justice to remember that they are as likely.to err 
from not knowing the fiill force of an English idiom, 
as I am from not knowing the füll force of a German 
one. Another fertile source of improvement has been 
aiforded me by the numerous critical notices of my 
work. 

Besides these advantages, I haye recently (1833) 
paid another yisit to Germany, during which I had the 
pleasure of talking over the puzzling parts of the poem 
with many of the most eminent living writers and 
artists, and some of Goethe 's intimate friends and 
connexions. Among those, for instance, whom I 
have to thank for the kindest and most flattering 
reception, are Tieck, von Chamisso,* Franz Hom, the 
Baron de la Motte Fouque, Dr. Hitzig,! Retzsch, and 
Madame de Goethe. M. Varnhagen von Ense, and 
Dr. Eckermann of Weimar (names associated by more 
than one relation with Goethe 's), whom I imfortmiate\y 
missed seeing, have each favoured me with suggestions 
or notes. I think, therefore, I may now venture to 



* The real author of Peter Scblemil, most unaccountably attii- 
buted by the English translator to De la Motte Fouque« 
f President of the Literary Sodoty of Berlin. 



PREFACE. ?U 

say, that the notes to this edition contain the sum of 
all that can be asserted with confideDce as to the allu- 
sions and passages which have been made the subject 
of controversy. 

I have no desire to prolong the diacussion as to the 
eomparatiye merit of prose and metrical translations ; 
bat, to prevent renewed misconstruction, I take this 
opportunity of bnefly restating my views. 

Here (it may be said) is a poem, which, in addition 
to the exquisite charm of its versification, is supposed 
to abound in philosophical notions and practical maxims 
of life, and to have a great moral object in view. It 
is written in a language comparatively unfettered by 
rule, presenting great facilities for the composition of 
words, and, by reason of its ductile qualities, naturally, 
as it were, and idiomatically adapting itself to every 
variety of versification. The author is a man whose 
genios inclined (as bis proud position authorised) him 
to employ the licence thus enjoyed by the writers of 
bis country to the füll, and in the compass of this 
Single production he has managed to introduce almost 
every conceivable description of metre and rhythm. 
The translator of such a work into English, a lan- 
guage strictly subjected to that ** literary legislation,*'* 
from which it is the present (perhaps idle) boast of Ger- 
many to be free, is obviously in this dilerama : he 
must sacrifice either metre or meaning ; and in a poem 
which it is not uncommon to hear referred to in evi- 



* MUhleofers Lecture. 
b 2 



YUl FBEFACE. 

dence of tlie moral, metaphysical, or theological yiews 
of tlie author, — ^which, as alreadj intimated, has ex- 
ercised a great part of its widelj-spread influence by 
qualities that have no more necessary connection with 
yerse than prose, it is surely best to sacrifice metre. 

The dilemma was fairly stated in the Edinburgh 
Review : — ** When people are onee aware how very 
rare a thing a successful translation must ever be, from 
the nature of the case, they will be more disposed to 
admit the prudence of lessening the obstacles as much 
as possible. There will be no lack of difficulties to 
surmount, (of that the French school may rest assured,) 
after removing out of the way every restraint that can 
be spared. If the very measure of the original can 
be preserved, the delight with which our ear and Ima- 
gination recognize its return, add incomparably to the 
triumph and the effect. Many persons, however, are 
prepared to dispense with this condition, who, never- 
theless, shrink from extending their indulgence to a 
dispensation from metre altogether. But it is really 
the same question which a writer and bis critics have 
to determine in both cases. If the difficulty of the par- 
ticular metre, or of metre generally, can be mastered 
without sacrificing more on their account than they 
are worth, they ought undoubtedly to be preserved. 
What, however, in any given case, is a nation to 
do, until a genius shall arise who can reconcile contra* 
dictions which are too streng for ordinary hands? 
In the meanwhile, is it not the wisest course to make 



PREFAGE. IX 

the most fayourable bargain that the nature of the 
dilemma offers ? Unless the public is absurd enough 
to abjure the literature of all languages which are not 
universallj understood, there oan be no member of the 
public who is not dependent, in one case or another, 
upon translations. The necessity of this refuge for 
the destitute being once admitted, it follows that thej 
are entitled to the best that can be got. What is the 
best ? Surelj that in which the least of the original 
is lost — ^least lost in those qualities which are the most 
important. The native air and real meaning of a 
work are more essential qualities than the charm of 
its numbers, or the embellishments and the passion of 
its poetic style. The first is the metal and the weight ; 
the second is the plating and the fashion." — No. 115, 
pp. 112, 113.* 

A writer in the Examiner speaks still more de- 
eidedly, and claims for prose translators a distinction 
which we should hardly have ventured to claim for 
ourselyes : — 

" Every one knows the magnificent translation left 
by Shelley of the Prologue in Heaven and the May- 
Day Night- Bcenei fragments which, of themselves, 
baye won mauy a young mind to the arduous study of 
the German language. By the industry of the present 
translator we leam, that many passages we have been 
in the habit of admiring in those translations are not 

* This article has been translated into French and republished 
.In tlie RivuA Brüannique, 



X PREFACE. 

onlj perversions but direct contradictions of the corre- 
sponding passages in Goethe, and that SheUej wanted 
a few months' study of German to make him equal to 
a translation of Faust. We do not think the trans- 
lator need have troubled himself with an j dissertation 
of this sort, in order to justifj the design of a proae 
translation of Faust. ' My main object/ he says, ' in 
these criticisms is to shake, if not remove, the Terj 
disadyantageous impressions that have hitherto been 
prevalent of Faust, and keep public opinion sus- 
pended concerning Goethe, tili some poet of congenial 
spirit shall arise capable of doing justice to this the 
most splendid and interesting of bis works.' Whj 
not go further than this, and contend that a mind 
strongly imbued with poetical feeling, and rightly 
covetous of an acquaintance with the poet, will not 
rest satisfied with anything short of as ezaet a render- 
ing of bis words as the different phraseology of the 
two languages will admit ? In such a translation, be 
it never so well ezecuted, we know that much is lost ; 
but nothing that is lost can be enjoyed without study- 
ing the language. No poetical translation can give tlie 
rhythm and rhyme of the original ; it can only Sub- 
stitute the rhythm and rhyme of the translator ; and 
for the Make of this Substitute toe must renaunce some 
portion of the original sense, and nearly aU the expres^ 
sums ; whercM, hy a prose translation^ we can arrive 
perfectly at the tkoughts^ and very nearly at the words 
of the original. When these (as iu Faust) have sprang 



PREFACE. XI 

from the brain of an inspired master, have been brooded 
over, matured, and elaborated during a great portion 
of a life, and finally issue forth, bearing upon them 
the stamp of a creative authority, to wbat are we to 
sacrifice any part or particle wbicb can be made to 
ßurvive in a literal transcript or paraphrase of prose ? 
To tbe pleasure of being simultaneously tickled by the 
metres of a native poetaster, which, if capable of 
^ving any enjoyment at all, will find themselves better 
wedded to his own original thoughts, and which, were 
they the happiest and most musical in the world, can 
never ring out natural and concording music to aspi- 
rations bom in another time, clime, and place, nor 
harmonize, like the original metres, with that tone of 
mind to which they should form a kind of orchestral 
accompaniment in its creative mood. The sacred and 
mysterious wtion of thought with verse, twin hörn and 
immortaHy wedded from the moment of their common 
hirth, can never he understood hy those who desire 
verse translations of good poetry, 

" Nevertheless, the translator of poetry must be a 
poet, although he translates in prose. Such only can 
have sufficient feeling to taste the original to the coro, 
combined with a sufficient mastery of language to give 
buming word for buming word, idiom for idiom, and 
the form of expression which comes most home in 
English for that which comes most home in German. 
Such a task, in fact, is one requiring a great propor- 
tion of fire, as well as delicacy and judgment, and by 



Xll PREFACE. 

no means what Br. Johnson thought it — ^a task to he 
executed hj any one who can read and understand 
the original."— March 24, 1833. 

Another influential Journal foUowed nearlj the same 
line of argoment: — 

"To the combination — unhappily too rare — of 
genius and energj, few things are impossible ; and we 
further venture to assert that, of the two undertakings, 
such a prose translation as the present is far more 
difficult than a metrical version could he, always sup- 
posing the possession of an eminent power of language, 
and a pure poetical taste, to be equal in the ono 
attempt and the other." — The Äthenceum for April 
27th, 1833. 

Some critics have compared a prose translation to a 
skeleton. The fairer comparison would be to an 
engraying from a picture'; where we lose, indeed, the 
charm of colouring, but the design, invention, compo- 
sition, expression, nay the veiy light and shade of the 
original, may be preserved. 

It may not be deemed whoUy inapplicable to remark, 
that unrhymed verse had to encounter, on its intro- 
duction in most countries, a much larger share of 
prejudiced Opposition than prose translations of poetry 
seem destined to encounter among us. Milton 
foimd it necessary to enter on an elaborate and, it 
must be owned, rather dogmatical defence ; and so 
streng was the feeling against Klopstock, that Goethe 's 
father refused to admit the Messiah into his house on 



• ■• 



PBEFACE. XUl 

account of its not bemg in rbyme, and it was read by 
bis wife and cbildren by stealth.* 

Two weigbty autborities bearing on tbe subject 
haye appeared very recently : — 

" Verse (says tbe Student in Mr. Bulwer's Pilgrims 
of tbe Ebine) cannot contain tbe refining subtle 
ibougbts wbicb a great prose writer embodies; tbe 
rbyme eternally cripples it ; it properly deals witb 
tbe common problems of buman nature wbicb are 
now backneyed, and not witb tbe nice and pbiloso- 
pbising coroUaries wbicb may be drawn from tbem. 
Tbns, tbougb it would seem at first a paradox, com- 
monplace is more tbe dement of poetry tban of 
prose. And, sensible of tbis, even Scbiller wrote 
tbe deepest of modern tragedies, bis Eiesco, in 
prose." — ^p. 317. 

Tbis is not quoted as precisely in point, and it is 
only fair to add tbat Mr. Coleridge (indeed wbat eise 
could be expected from tbe translator of Wallenstein?) 
was for verse : — 

** I bave read a good deal of Mr. Hay ward's Ver- 
sion, and I tbink it done in a very manly style ; but 
I do not admit tbe argument for prose translations. 
I would in general ratber see verse attempted in so 
capable a language as ours. Tbe Frencb cannot belp 
tbemselves, of course, witb sucb a language as tbeirs." 
--Tahle Talk, vol. ii., p. 118. 

* Dichtung und Wahrheit, b. 3. The Meseiah is in hexameter 
▼erse, distinguished from the Greek and Latin hexameters bj the 
frequent sulMtitution of trochees for spondees. 



XIV PREFACE. 

Mr. Coleridge is here confounding general capability 
with capability for the purposes of translation, in which 
the English language is confessedlj far inferior to the 
German, though, considering the causes of this infe- 
riority, many may be induced to regard it more as a 
merit than a defect. Still the fact is undoubted, that 
the pliancy and elasticity of the instrument with which 
they work, enable the Germans to transfer the best 
works of other nations almost rerbatim to their litera- 
tnre, — witness their translationS' of Shakespeare, in 
which the very puns are inimitably hit off ; whilst our 
best translations are good only on a principle of com- 
pensation : the authors omit a great many of the 
beauties of their original, and, by way of set-off, insert 
a great many of their own. In Mr. Coleridge *s Wallen- 
stein for ezample : — 

** The intelligible forms of ancient poets^ 
The fiir huznanities of old religion, 
The Power, the Beauty, and the Majesty ; 
That had their haunts in dale, or piny mountain, 
Or forest by slow stream, or pebbly spring, 
Or chasms and wat*ry depths ; all these have vanished, 
They live no longer in the faith of reason/* 

These seven lines are a beautiful amplification of 
two: — 

** Die alten Fabelwesen sind nicht mehr. 
Das reizende Geschlecht ist aasgewandert** 

Literally : — 

^ The old fable-existences are no more, 
The fascinating race has emigrated.** 

With regard to the dispute about free and literal 



PREFACE. ZT 

translation, however, Mrs. Austin, by one Lappy 
reference, has satisfactorily determined the principle, 
and left nothing but the application in each individual 
case to dispute about : — 

'* It appears to me that Goethe alone (so far as I 
have Seen) has solved the problem. In bis usual 
manner he tumed the subject on all sides, and saw 
that there are two aims of translation, perfectly dis- 
tinct, nay, opposed ; and that the merit of a work of 
this kind is to be judged of entirely with reference to 
its aim. 

" ' There are two maxims of translation/ says he ; 
' the one requires that the author of a foreign nation 
be brought to us in such a manner that we may regard 
him as our own ; the other, on the contrary, demands 
of US that we transport ourselves over to him, and adopt 
bis Situation, bis mode of speaking, bis peculiarities, 
The advantages of both are sufficiently known to all 
instructed persons from masterly examples.' 

" Here, then, ' the battle between free and literal 
translation,' as the accomplisbed writer of an article in 
the last Edinburgh Review calls it, is set at rest for 
ever, by simply showing that there is nothing to fight 
about ; that each is good with relation to its end — ^the 
one when matter alone is to be transferred, the other 
when matter and form." — Characteristics qf Goethe, 
4tc.t vol. i., pp. 32 to 34. 

Few will deny that both matter and form are im- 
portant in Goethe's Faust ; in such a case we want 



X71 PBEFACE. 

to know, not what may be said for tlie autbor, or bow 
bis tbougbts and style may be improved upon, but 
wbat be bim seif bas said, and bow be bas said it. Tbis 
brings me to anotber notion of mine^ wbicb bas been 
ratber bastily condemned. At page Ixxxix of my 
original Preface I bad said : — " Acting on bis tbeory, 
be (M. Sainte- Aulaire) bas given a clear and spirited, 
but vague and loose, parapbrase of tbe poem, instead 
of a translation of it ; inyariably sbunning thedifficulties 
wbicb Tarious meanings present, by boldly deciding 
upon one, instead of trying to sbadow out all of tbem 
— wbicb I regard as one of tbe bigbest triumpbs a 
translator can acbieve — and ayoiding tbe cbarge of 
incorrectness by making it almost impossible to say 
wbetber tbe best construction bas suggested itself 
or not." On tbis tbe able critic in tbe Edinburgh 
Review remarks : — ''Mr. Hayward says, tbat one of tbe 
bigbest triumpbs of a translator, in a passage capable 
of various meanings, is to sbadow out tbem all. In 
reply to tbis, our first remark is, tbat bis own practice, 
according to bis own account of it, is inconsistent witb 
bisrule. In tbe course of bis inquiries be says, tbat 
' be bas not unfrequently bad tbree or four different 
interpretations suggested to bim by as many accom- 
plisbed German scbolars, eacb ready to do battle for 
bis own against tbe world.' Wbat tben? Does be 
say tbat be bas attempted to sbadow out tbem all ? 
So far from it, be insists— we dare say witb justice — 
tbat readers wbo may miss tbeir favourite interpreta- 



PBEFACE. ZYU 

tion in his Version of anj passage, are bound to give 
him the credit of having wilfuUy * rejected it.* " — 
No. 115, p. 133. 

The writer contrasts, as inconsistent, passages re- 
ferring to different descriptions of difficulties. The 
following is an example of my theory. At the begin- 
ning of the prison scene {j^st, p. 144) occurs this 
puzzling line : — 

** Fort ! dein zagen zögert den Tod heran." 

Two interpretations, neither quite satisfactory, are 
suggested to me : it may mean either that death is 
advancing whilst Faust remains irresolute, or that 
death is accelerated by his irresolution. Having, 
therefore, first ascertained that the Germ an word 
zögern corresponds with the English word linder, and 
that, in strictness, neither could be used as an active 
verb, I translated the passage literally : ** On ! thy 
irresolution lingers death hitherwards ; *' and thus 
shadowed out the same meanings, and gave the same 
Bcope to eommentary, as the original. Of course, this 
is only practicable where exactly corresponding ex- 
pressions can be had ; for instance, in the passage to 
which the note at p. 157 relates, we have no corre- 
sponding expression for Das Werdende, and must there- 
fore be content with a paraphrase ; but, in the latter 
part of the same passage, 1 see no reason for Shelley's 
changing enduring (the piain translation oi dauernden) 
into sweet and melancholy, nor for M. Sainte-Aulaire's 



XVIU PREFACE. 

rendering the two last lines of the speecli by — et sovr 
tnettez ä Vepreuve de la sagesse les fantömes que de 
vagues desirs votis presentent, tbereby gaining nothing 
in point of perspicuity, when he had corresponding 
French expressions at bis command. Not unfrequently 
the literal meaning of a word (as in ein dunkler Ebren- 
man), or the grammatical construction of a passage 
(as in Doch hast Du Speise, <fcc.) is disputed ; and as 
it is impossible to construe two ways at once, in such 
instances rejection is unavoidable. 

Tbis may suffice to sbow tbe practicability of my 
theory in tbe only cases I meant it to embrace. It may 
be useful to sbow by an instance bow mucb mischief 
may result from tbe neglect of it. The alcbymical 
description, as explained by Mr. Griffitbs (p. 173) bas 
been generally regarded as a valuable illustration of 
tbe literary peculiarities of Goethe. Now all preced- 
ing translators, considering it as rubbish, had skipped, 
or paraphrased, or mistranslated it ; so tbat tbe 
French or Englisb reader, bowever well acquainted 
with alcbymical terms, could make nothing of iti I 
was as mucb in tbe dark as my predecessors ; but I 
thought tbat there might be sometbing in it, thougb 
I could see notbing ; I therefore translated tbe pas- 
sage word for word, and then sent it to Mr. Griffitbs. 
His very interesting explanation was tbe consequence. 
Tbis may be called an extreme case, but it shows tbe 
folly of excluding or altering piain words because we 
ourselves are unable at tbe moment to interpret them ; 



PREPACEi XIX 

and as a fact within mj own imüiediate experiencc, I 
maj add, that expressions seemingly indifferent iu their 
proper places, so frequently supply the kej to subsc- 
qaent allusions, that a translator always incurs the 
risk of breaking some link in the chain of association 
by a change. For iustance, in my first edition I fol- 
lowed Shelley in translating vereinzelt sich, — masses 
iiielfj under an idle notion that the context required 
it ; and everybody thought me right, until Mr. Heraud 
(author of ** The Descent into Hell," <fec, &c.) proved 
to me that the most obvious signification (scaUers 
itself) was the best, and that I had disconnected the 
following line and marred the contiimity of the whole 
description by the change. 

" I was wont boldly to affirm," says Mr. Coleridge, 
" that it would be scarcely more difficult to push a 
Btone out from the pyramids with tbe bare band, than 
to alter a word, or the position of a word, in Shak- 
speare or Milton, (in their most important works at 
least), without making the author say something eise, 
or something worse, than he does say.'* This Ob- 
servation is strictly applicable to the First Part of 
Faust. 

Again, the most beautiful expressions in poetry (such 
expressions as Dante is celebrated for) are often in 
direct defiance of rule and authority, and afford ample 
ßcope for cavilling. Is the translator to dilute or 
filter them, for fear of startling the reader by uovelty 
or involving him in momeutary doubt ? I am sorry 



XX PBEFACB, 



to say that Mr. Coleridge has given some sanction to 
those who might be inclined to answer this question 
affirmatively. After making Wallenstein exclaim : 

" Thi8 anguish will be wearied down, I know ; 
What pang is permanent with man ? '* 

he adds in a note : — " A very inadequate translation 
of the original:*' 

" Verschmerzen werd' ich diesen Schlag, das weiss ich, 
Denn was verschmerzte nicht der Mensch ? ** 

Literally : 

** I shall grieve down this blow, of that I*m consdous ; 
What does not man grieve down ?" 

I trust my very high and constantly expressed ad- 
miration of Mr. Coleridge, will be held some apology 
for the presumption of the remark — bat I really see 
no reason for excluding the literal translation irom 
the text.* One of our most distinguished men of 
letters, who knew the German poets only through 
translations, once complained to me that he seldom 
found them painting, or conveying a fine image, by a 
Word ; as in the line— 

** How sweet the moonlight slee^ upon that bank.** 

How should he, unless that mode of translation which 
I have thus ventured on vindicating, be pursüed ? 

In Appendix, No. 1, I have added an analysis of 
the second and concluding part of Faust, just fuU 

* Since this was written, the literal translation has been adopted. 
See the last edition of Coleridge*B Works. 



PKEFACB. ZXl 

OQOUgli to giye a general notion of the plot, if plot it 
can be called, where plot is none. I have been re- 
oommended to translate the whole, but it Struck me 
that the scenes were too disconnected to excite much 
interest, and that the poetiy had not substance enough 
to Support a version into prose. As I have said 
alreadj in another place,* the Second Part presents 
few of those fine trains of philosophic thinking, or 
those exquisite touches of natural feeüng, which form 
the great attraction of the First. The principal charm 
will be found to consist in the idiomatic ease of the 
language, the spirit with which the lighter measures 
are Struck off, and the unrivalled beauty of the de- 
scriptive passages ; which last are to be found in equal 
Dumber in both parts, but are the only passages of 
the continuation which would bear transplanting with- 
out a ruinous diminution of effect. Besides, my own 
opinion is, that the First Part will henceforth be read, 
as formerly, by and for itself ; nor would I advise 
ihose who wish to enjoy it thoroughly and retain the 
most favoiu'able Impression of it, to look at the Second 
Part at all. '' Goethe 's Faust should have remained 
a fragment. The heart-thrilling last scene of the 
First Part, Margaret's heavenly salvation, which works 
80 powerfully upon the mind, should have remained 
the last ; as indeed, for sublimity and impressiveness, 
it perhaps Stands alone in the whole circle of literature. 
It had a fine effect, — ^how Faust, in the manner of 



* The Foreign Quarterly Review, No. 23, Art. 4. 

c 



XXll PBEFACE, 

the spirits that flitted round him, disappeared, — how 
mists yeiled him from our sight, given over to inex- 
orable Bestiny, on whom, hidden from us, the dutj of 
condemning or acquitting him deTolved, The spell is 
now broken."* 

In Appendix, No. 2, will be found an account of 
the Story of Faust, and the various productions in art 
and literature that have grown out of it, 

* Stieglitz, Sage vom Boctor FcmsL 
Trmple^ Janutary, 183-1. 



ADVERTISBMENT 



PREFIXED TO 



THE FIRST PÜBLISHED EDITION. 



I COMMENCED this translation without the slightest 

idea of publisbing it, and eyen when, by aid of pre- 

face and notes, I tbougbt I bad produced a book 

which might contribute sometbing towards tbe pro- 

motion of German literature in tbis countrj, I still 

feit unwilling to cast it from me beyond the power of 

alteration or recall. I tberefore circulated the whole 

of the first impression amongst mj acquaintance, and 

xnade up my mind to be guided by tbe general tenor 

of the opinions I might receive from tbem. I also 

wished the accuracy of my version to be verified by 

as many ezaminations as possible, and I hoped to get 

some additional matter for the notes, '< The com- 

plete ezplanation of an author (says Dr. Johnson) 

not systematic and consequential, but desultory and 

vagrant, abounding in casual illusions and light hints, 

is not to be expected from any single scholiast. What 

c 2 



Xnr ADYERTISEHEKT. 

can be known will be collected by cbance from ihe 
recesses of obscure and obsolete papers (or from rare 
and curious books), penised commonly with some 
other view. Of this knowledge eyery man bas some, 
and none has mucb ; but when an autbor bas engaged 
tbe public attention» tbose wbo can add anytbing to 
bis illustration, communicate tbeir discoyeries, and 
time produces what bad eluded diligence." 

Tbe result of tbe ezperiment bas been so far satis- 
factory, tbat I am now emboldened to lay tbe work 
before tbe public, witb some not unimportant altera» 
tions and additions suggested by subsequent inquiry 
or by friends. 

Temple, Feh, 25th, 183$. 



I 

I 



TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE 

TO THE EDITION PEINTED FOE PEIYATE GIBGULATION. 



The outliiie of Fanals story is already familiär 
enough, and I have given all that I think necessary in 
tlie way of Illustration or commentary in the notos. 
In tliis place, therefore, I have principally to explain 
the motives which led to the foUowing hazardous and, 
aoine may think, presumptuous undertaking. 

It was first suggested to me by a remark made by 
Mr. Charles Lamb to an honoured Mend of mine :* 
ihat he had derived more pleasnre ^m the meagre 
Latin yerüons of the Greek tragedians, than from 
any other versions of them he was acquainted with. 
The foUowing remarks by Goethe himself eonfirmed 
me in it : — 

** We Germans had the advantage that several 
mgnificant works of foreign nations were first trans- 
lated in an easy and clear manner. Shakspeare 

• [The BeT. H. F. Gary, translator of Dante and Pindar.]— <* I 
bATe read of a man idio bdng, by his ignorance of Greek, com« 
peUed to gratifj bis curiority witk the Latin printed on the opposite 
poge, deeLared tiiat, from Uie rüde aimplidty of the lines, literally 
rendered, he formed nobler ideas of the Homeric majesty than from 
the laboored elegance of poliBhed Tersiona.** — Johnson*» Ltfe of 
Pope. 



ZZvi TRANSLATOR 's PREFACE. 

translated into prose, first bj Wieland, then bj Esch- 
enburg, being a reading generallj intelligible and 
adapted to every reader, was enabled to spread 
rapidly, and produce a great effect. I honour both 
rhythm and rbyme, bj which poetry first becomes 
poetry ; but the properly deep and radically opera- 
tive, — ^tbe tnily developing and quickening, is that 
which remains of the poet, when he is translated into 
prose. The inward substance then remains in its 
purity and fulness : which, when it is absent, a 
dazzling exterior often deludes us with the semblance 
of, and, when it is present, conceals."* 

This will be admitted to be very high authority in 
favour of prose translations of poetry; and no one 
who knows ** Faust " will deny, that it is the poem 
of all others of which a prose translation is most 
imperatively required, — ^for the simple reason, that it 
teems with thought, and has long exercised a widely- 
spread influence by quaUties independent of metre 
and rhyme. I am not aware that I can illustrate my 
meaning better than by the foUowing extract from a 
German Review.! It forms part of a critical notice 

* Atb8 meinem Lehen : DUt^ihmg und Wahrheit. — Th. iii.b. IX. 
Hardly a Single sentenoe of the English rersion, pablished nnder 
the title of Memoirs of Goethe, is to be depended upon. The 
translation of Shakspeare, mentioned by Goethe, was ori^nallj 
undertaken by Wieland, \rho, according to Grüber, was paid at 
the rate of two Thalers (six Shillings) per sheet. He completed 
twenty-two of the plays ; which were afterwards re-published by 
Eschenburg with the rest translated by himsel£ 

t Die Blätter für Litera/rische Unkrhaltwng, — Leipzig, 



TRANSLATOR^S PREPACE. XXVÜ 

of a work by M. Rosenkranz, and (witli all its exag- 
geration and enthusiasm) maj be taken as a fair 
sample of the light in which ** Faust " is considered 
in Germany : — 

" The yarious attempts to continue tbe infinite 
matter of Faust where Goethe drops it, although in 
themselves fruitless and unsuccessful, at least show 
in what manifold ways this great poem may be con- 
eeiyed, and how it presents a di£ferent side to every 
individuality. As the sun-beam breaks itself dif- 
ferently in every eye, and the starred heaven and 
nature are different for every soul-mirror, so it is with 
this immeasurable and ezhaustless poem. We have 
illustrators and continuers of Faust, who, captivated 
by the practical wisdom which pervades it, considered 
the whole poem as one great collection of maxims of 
life ; we have met with others who saw nothing eise 
in it but a pantheistical Solution of the enigma of 
existence ; others again, more alive to the genius of 
poetry, admired only the poetical clothing of the 
ideas, which otherwise seemed to them to have little 
significance; and others again saw nothing peculiar 
but the felicitous exposition of a philosophical theory, 
and the specification of certain errors of practical life. 
All these are right ; for from all these points of view 
Faust is great and significant ; but whilst it appears 
to foUow these several directions as radiations from a 
focuB, at the same time it contains (but for the niost 
|>art concealed) its peculiar, truly great, and principal 



xzTÜi travslator's preface. 

vi^direction; and this is the recoucilement of the great 
contradiction of the world, the estahlishment of peace 
between the Real and the Ideal. No one who loses 
sight of this the great foundation of Faust, will find 
himself in a oondition-we do not say to explain or 
continue, hut eyen to read and comprehend the poem. 
This principal basis underlies all its particular tenden«» 
eies — the religious, the philosophical, the scientific, 
the practical ; and for this verj reason is it, that 
the theologian, the scholar, the soldier, the man of 
the World, and the Student of philosophy, to what* 
ever school he may belong, are all sure of finding 
something to interest them in this all-embracing 
production." 

Surely a work of which this, or anjthing like it, 
can be said, deserves to be translated as literally as 
the genius of our language will admit ; with an 
almost exclusive reference to the strict meaning of 
the words, and a comparative disregard of the beau- 
ties which are commonly thought peculiar to poetry, 
should they prove irreconcileable with the sense. I 
am not saying that they will prove so, for the neblest 
conceptions and most beautiful descriptions in Faust 
would be noble and beautiful in any language capable 
of containing them, be it as immusical and harsh as 
it would, — 

" As sunshine broken on a rill, 
Though turned astray, is sunshine still.** 

Still less am I saying that such a translation would 



trakslator's preface. zzix 



be the best, or should be the only one. But I 
venture to think that it maj possess some interest 
and Utility now ; when, at the distance of nearly half 
a Century from the first appearance of the work, 
nothing at all approximating to an aecurate Version 
of it exists. With one or two exceptions, aU attempts 
by foreigners (foreigners as regards Germany, I 
mean), to translate even solitary scenes or detached 
passages from Faust, are crowded with the most 
extraordinary mistakes, not of words merely, but of 
spirit and tone ; and the author's fame has suffered 
acGordingly. For no wamings on the part of those 
who know and would fain manifest the truth, can 
entirely obviate the deteriorating influence of such 
Tersions on the mind. *' I dare say," the reader 
replies, ** that what you teil me about this translation 
may be right, but the author*s meaning can hardly 
be so obscured or perverted as to prevent my forming 
some notion of bis powers." 

Now I print this translation with the view of 
proving to a certain number of my literary friends, 
and through them perhaps to the public at large, that 
they have hitherto had nothing from which they can 
form a just estimate of Faust; and with this view, 
and this view only, I shall prefix a few remarks on 
the English and French translators who have pre- 
ceded me. 

[Here foUowed remarks on Lord Francis Egerton 
(now Lord EUesmere), Shelley, the author of the trans- 



xxz translator's preface. 

lation published with the English edition of Retzsch'js 
Outlines, the author of the translated passages in 
Blackwood's Magazine, No. 39 (Dr. Anster), Madame 
de Staely and MM. de Sainte- Aulaire, Stapfer, and 
Gerard. These remarks are omitted because their 
original purpose has been fulfilled.] 

My main object in these criticisms is to shake, if 
not remove, the very disadvantageous impressions that 
have hitherto been prevalent of "Faust," and keep 
public opinion suspended coneerning Goethe tili some 
poet of cong'enial spirit shall arise, capable of doing 
justice to this, the most splendid and interesting of 
his works. By my translation, also, I shall be able 
to show what he is not, though it will be quite im- 
possible for me to show what he is. "II me reste 
(says M. Stapfer), a protester contre ceux qui, apres 
la lecture de cette traduction, s'imagineraient avoir 
acquis une id^e compl^te de l'original. Port6 sur tel 
ouvrage traduit que ce soit, le jugement serait erron6 ; 
11 le serait surtout h Tegard de celui-ci, a cause de la 
perfection continue du style. Qu*on se figure tout le 
charme de TAmphitryon de Moli^re Joint k ce que les 
pdsies de Pamy offrent de plus gracieux, alors seule- 
ment on pourra se croire dispens^ de le lire." 

If I do not say something of the sort, it is only 
because I cannot decide with what English names 
Molidre and Pamy would be most aptly replaced« 
The merely English reader, however, will perhaps 
take my simple assurance, that, from the admitted 



TRANSLATOR*» PREFAGB. ZXxi 

beantj of Goethe's yersification, no writer loses more 
by being submitted to the crucible of prose ; thougb, 
at the same time, rery few writers can afford to lose 
80 mach ; as Bryden said of Shakspeare, if bis em- 
broideries were bumt down, there would still be silver 
at the bottom of the melting-pot. The bloom-like 
beautj of the songs,Mn particular, Yanishes at the 
bare touch of a translator; as regards these, there- 
fore, I may as well own at once that I am inviting my 
friends to a sort of Barmeeide entertainment, where 
fancy must supply all the materials for banqueting. 
I have one comfort, however : the poets have hitherto 
tried their hands at them in vain ; and I am backed by 
very high authority in declaring the most beautiful — 
Meine BuK ist hin — to be utterly mitranslatable« 
Indeed, it is only by a lucky chance that a succession 
of simple heartfelt expressions or idiomatie felicities in 
one language, are ever capable of exact representation 
in another. Two passages already quoted appear well 
adapted to exemplify what I mean. When Margaret 
exclaims : — 

^ Sag Niemand dass da schon hey Gretclien warst,** 

it is quite impossible to render in English the finely 
sbaded meaning of hey. Here, therefore, Germany 
has the best of it, but when we translate — 

•* Schön war ich auch, und das war mein verderben^* 

*' I was fair too, but that was my undoing '* — we 
greatly improve upon the original, and add a delicacy 
which I defy any German to Imitate. 



ZXXii TRANSLATOR*S PREFACE. 



My only object in giving a sort of rhytlimical ar- 
rangement to the Ijrical parts, was to convey some 
notion of the variety of yersification which forma one 
great charm of the poem. The idea was first sug- 
gested to me by Miltou*s translation of the Ode to 
Pyrrha, entitled : ** Quia multa gracilis te puer in 
rosa, rendered almost word for word without rime» 
accordihg to the Latin measure, as near as the lan- 
guage will admit." But I have seldom, if eyer, made 
any sacrifice of sense for the purpose of rounding a 
line in the lyrics or a period in the regulär prose ; 
proceeding throaghont on the rooted conviction, that, 
if a translation such as mine be not literal, it is value- 
less. By literal, howerer, must be understood merely 
that I have endeavoured to convey the precise meaning 
of Goethe : an object often best attainable by pre- 
senring the exact form of ezpression employed by 
him, unless, indeed, it be an ezelusiyely national one. 
Even then I have not always rejected it: for one 
great advantage to be anticipated from such trans- 
lations is the naturalisation of some of those pregnant 
modes of ezpression in which the German language 
is so remarkably rieh. Idioms, of course, belong to 
a wholly different category. My remarks apply only 
to those phrases and Compounds where nothing is 
wanting to make an Englishman perfectly au/ait of 
them, but to think out the fuU meaning of the wonls. 
In all such cases I translate literaUy, in direct de- 
fiance to those sagacious critics, who ezpect to catch 



TRANSLATOR's PBE7ACB. XZXÜi 



the gpirit of a work of genius as dogs lap water from 
the Nile, and vote a German author unreadable unless 
all his own and bis countrj*B peculiarities are planed 
awaj. In short, mj theorj is, that if the English 
reader, not knowing German, be made to stand in 
tbe same relation to ** Faust " as the English reader, 
thoronghlj acquainted with German, Stands in towards 
it — 1.6., if the same impressions be eonveyed through 
the same sort of medium, whether bright or dusky, 
coarse or fine — ^the yerj extreme point of a translator's 
duty has been attained. 

But though pretty confident of the correctness of 
this theory, I am far from certain that my practice 
uniformly accords with it. As the translation, howover, 
has been executed at leisure moments, was finished 
many months ago, and has undergone the careful 
rerisal of friends, I think I can answer for its general 
accuracy ; but in a work so crowded with elliptical 
and idiomatic, nay even provincial, modes of expres- 
sion, and containing so many doubtful allusions, as 
** Faust,*' it is morally impossible to guard against 
individual errors, or what, at any rate, may be repre- 
Bented as such by those who will not give the trans« 
lator credit for haying . weighed and rejected the 
constructions they may chance to prefer. In the 
eourse of my inquiries, I have not unfirequently had 
three or four different interpretations suggested to me 
bj as many accomplished German scholars, eacfa ready 
tQ do batüe for bis own against the world. There -are 



zxxiv translatoh's pbefage. 



also some few meanings which all reasonable people 
Gonfess themselves unable to un-earth, — or rather, un* 
heaven ; for it is bj riaing, not sinking, that Goethe 
leaves bis readers bebind, and in nearly all such in- 
stances, we respect, despite of our embarrassment, tbe 
aspirations of a master-mind, soaring proudlj up into 
tbe infinite unknown, and tbougb failing pos&ibly in 
tbe füll eztent of its aim, yet bringing back rieb tokens 
of its fligbt. 

** Faust" bas never yet been publisbed witb notes, 
witb tbe exception of a very few added to tbe French 
translations, in wbieb none of tbe real difficulties are 
removed. I bave endeavoured to supply tbis deficiency 
by bringing togetber all tbe infoimation I could collect 
among an extensive circle of German acquaintance. 
I bave also ransacked all tbe commentaries I could get» 
tbougb notbing can be more unsatisfactory tban tbe 
result. Tbey.are almost exclusively filled witb trasby 
amplifications of tbe text, not unfrequently dilating 
into cbapters wbat Goetbe bad Condensed in a line. 
I bave named tbe wbole of tbem in an Appendix. 
Tbat of Dr. Scbubart is.said to betbe oiily one wbich 
ever received any token of approbation from Goethe. 
A few parallel passages from Englisb poets will also 
be found in tbe notes. Tbey are merely such as inci- 
dentally suggested themselves ; except, indeed, that I 
re-read tbe greater part of Wordsworth, Coleridge and 
Shelley, during tbe progress of tbe undertaking. 

I fear it will be quite impossible for me to acknow<^ 



TBANSLATORS PREFAGE. ZZXT 

ledge all the assistance I have receired, but there are 
a few kind co-operators whom I think it a dutj io 
name, though without their knowledge and perhaps 
contrary to their wish. 

I certainly owe most to mj old master and friend 
Mr. Heilner, whose consummate critical knowledge of 
both languages enabled him to afford the most effective 
aid in disentangling the perplexities of the work ; and 
to my friend Mr. Hills, one of the best German scho- 
lars I know, in whose richly-stored mind and fine taste 
I found a perfect treasure-house of all that is most 
beautiful in the most beautiful creations of genius, and 
an almost infallible criterion of propriety. But it is 
also with pride and pleasure that I offer my best ac- 
knowledgments for very valuable aid to — Mrs. John 
Austin, the elegant translator of The German Prince's 
Tour : Dr. Bernays, Professor of the German Lan- 
guage and Literature at King*s College, and one of 
tbose who have reflected most honour on that Institu- 
tion by their works : my clever and warm-hearted 
friend, Mr. Heller, Attache to the Prussian Embassy : 
Mr. A. Troppaneger, a German gentleman of learning 
and taste now residing in London : Dr. Jacob Grimm, 
the first philologist of this or perhaps of any age, and 
an eminently successful cultivator of the most inter- 
esting department of German literature besides : and 
last not least, A. W. von Schlegel, whose enduring 
Claims to general admiration are at once too various to 
be easily enumerated and too well known to need enu- 



XXZYi TBANSLATOR*S PREFAGE. 

merating. There is jet another highly distinguished 
friend, whose name I should have been enabled to 
add, had not bis regretted absence in a foreign country 
deprived me of it. When I reflect how much I owed 
to bim on a former occasion of tbe kind, I cannot con- 
template tbe Omission witbout a pang.* 

In conclusion I bave onlj to saj, tbat, as I foUowed 
no one implicitly, my friends are not answerable for 
my mistakes ; and tbat I sball be mucb obliged to 
any one wbo will suggest any amendment in tbe Irans- 
lation or any addition to tbe notes, as at some future 
time I may re-print or publisb tbe work. 

* [I alluded to Mr. G. C. Lewis, translator of BoeWs Domestle 
Policy of the Athenians and (with Mr. H. Tuffhell) MüUer'a 
Hisiory of the Donans. He looked oyer 1117 translations from 
Sayigny for me.] 



Tbmple, Jaimary 6th, 1838. 






DEDICATION. 

Te approach again, ye wavering sliapes, which once, 
in the moming of life, presented yourselyes to mj trou- 
bled yiew ! Shall I try, this time, to hold you fast ? 
Do I feel my heart still inclined to tbat delusion ? Ye 
crowd upon me! well then, ye may hold dominioD 
over me, as ye rise around out of vapour and mißt. My 
bosom feels youthfully agitated by the magic breath 
which atmospheres your train. 

Ye bring with you the images of happy days, and 
many loved shades arise : like to an old half-expired 
Tradition, rises First-love, with Friendship, in their 
Company. The pang is renewed ; the plaint repeats 
the labyrinthine mazy course of lifo, and names the 
dear ones, who, cheated of fair hours by fortime, have 
Tanished away before me. 

They hear not the following lays — the souls to whom 
I sang my first. Dispersed is the friendly throng — 
the first echo, alas, has died away ! My sorrow voices 

P' B 



2 DEDICATION. 

itself to the stranger many : their very applause makes 
my heart sick; and all that in other days was gladdened 
by my song — if stiU living, strays scattered through 
the World. 

And a yearning, long unfelt, for tbat quiet pensive 
Spirit-realm seizes me. 'Tis hovering even now, in 
half-formed tones, — my lisping lay, like the -^olian 
harp. A tremor seizes me : tear foUows tear : the aus- 
tere heaii; feels itself growing mild and soft« What 
I have, I see as in the distance ; and what is goue, 
becomes a reality to me. 



PROLOGUE FOR THE THEATRE. 



Manager — Theatre-Poet — Merryman. 

Manager. Ye two, who have so often stood bj me 
in need and tribulation, say, what hopes do jou hap- 
pen to entertain of our undertaking upon Germ an 
ground ? I wish very much to please the multitude, 
particularly because it lives and lets live. The posts, 
the boards, are put up, and every one looks forward 
to a feast. There th«y sit abeady, cool, with ele- 
vated brows, and would fain be sei a wondering. I 
know how the spirit of the people is propitiated ; yet 
I have never been in such a dilemma as now. True, 
they are not accustomed to the best, but they have 
read a terrible deal. How shall we manage it — that 
all be fresh and new, and pleasing and instructive, at 
once ? For assuredly I like to see the multitude, 
when the stream rushes towards our booth, and, with 
powerfully-repeated uudulations, forces itself through 
the narrow portal of grace — when, in broad day-light, 
already before four, they elbow their way to the 
paying-place, and risk breaking their necks for a 
ticket, as in a famine at bakers* doors for bread. It 
is the poet only that works this miracle on people so 
various — my friend, oh ! do it to-day ! 

•b2 



4 PROLOGUE FOB THE THEATRE. 

Poet. Oh ! speak not to me of that motlej multi- 
tude, at whose verj aspect one's spirit takes flight. 
Yöil from me that undiüating throng, which sucks us, 
against our will, into the whirlpool. No ! conduct me 
to the quiet, heavenly nook, where alone pure enjoy- 
ment bleoms for the poet — where love and friendship, 
with godlike hand, create and cherish our hearts* bless- 
ings. Ah ! what there hath gushed from us in the 
depths of the breast, what the lip stammered trem- 
blingly to itself — now failing, and now perchance suc- 
ceeding — the wild moment's sway swallows up. Often 
only when it has endured through years, does it ap- 
pear in completed form. What glitters, is born for 
the moment ; the genuine remains unlost to posterity. 

Merryman, If I could but hear no more about 
posterity ! Suppose I chose to talk about posterity, 
who then would make fun for cotemporaries ? Thiit 
they will have — and ought to have it. The presence of 
a gaUant lad, too, is always something, I should think. 
Who knows how to impart iiimself agreeably — he 
will never be soured by populär caprice. He desires 
a large circle, to agitate it the more certainly. Then 
do but try your best, and show yourself a model, Let 
Fancy, with all her choruses, — Reason, ünderstand- 
ing, Feeling, Passion, but — ^markmewell — notwithout 
Folly, be heard. 

Manager, But, most partieularly, let there be 
incident enough. People come to look ; their greatest 
pleasure is to see. If much is spun off before their 
eyes, so that the many can gape with astonishment, 
you have then gained in breadth immediately; you 
are a great favourite. You can only subdue the mass 
by mass. Each eventually picks out something for 
himself. Who brings much, will bring something to 
many a one^ and all leave th$ house content. If you 



PROLOGUE FOR THE THEATRE. 5 

give a piece, give it at once in pieces I With such a 
hash, you cannot but succeed. It is easilj served 
out, as easily as invented. What avails it to present 
a whole? the public will pull it to pieces for you not- 
witbstanding. 

Poet* You feel not tbe baseness of such a handi- 
craft ; how little that becomes the true artist ! The 
daubing of these £ne sparks, I see, is already a maxim 
with you. 

Mancher. Such a reproof does not mottify me at 
all. A man who intends to work properly, must have 
an eye to the best tool. Consider, you have soft wood 
to split ; and only look whom you are writing for ! 
Whilst one is driven by ennui, the other comes satiated 
from a meal of too many dishes; and, what is worst of 
all, very many a one comes from reading the news- 
papers. Feople hurry dissipated to us, as to masque- 
rades; and curiosity only wings every step. The ladies 
give themselves and their finery as a treat, and play 
with US without pay. What are you^reaming about 
on your poetical height ? What is it tnat makes a füll 
house merry ? Look closely at your patrons ! Half 
are cold, half raw. One hopes for a game of cards 
after the play ; another, a wild night on the bosom of 
a wench. Why, poor fools that ye are, do ye give the 
sweet Muses much trouble for such an end ? I teil 
you, only give more, and more, and more again ; thus 
you can never be wide of your mark. Try only to 
mystify the people ; to satisfy them is hard — What is 
come to you ? Delight or pain ^ 

Poet. Begone and seek thyself another servant ! 
The poet, forsooth, is wantonly to sport away foi' thy 
sake the highest right, the rightof man, which Nature 
bestows upon him ! By what stirs ho every heart ? By 
what subdues he every element ? Is it not the bar- 



6 PROLOGUE FOR THE THEATRE. 

mony — which bursts from out bis breast, and sucks tbe 
World back agaiu into bis heart? Wben Nature, care- 
lessly wiuding, forces tbe tbread's interminable lengtb 
upon tbe spindle; wben tbe confused multitude of all 
Beings jangles out of tune and barsb, — wbo, life- 
infusing, so disposes tbe ever equably-flowing series, 
tbat it moves rbytbmically ? Wbo caUs tbe Indiyidual 
to tbe general consecration — wbere it strikes in glo- 
rious accords ? Wbo bids tbe tempest rage to pas- 
sions y tbe evening-red glow in tbe pensive spirit ? 
Wbo scatters on tbe loved one's patb all beauteous 
blossomings of spring ? Wbo wreatbes tbe unmeaning 
green leaves into a garland of bonour for deserts of all 
kinds ? Wbo ensures Olympus ? — associates Gods ? 
Man*s Power revealed in tbe Poet. 

Merryman, Employ tbese fine powers tben, and 
carry on your poetical afFairs as one carries on a love- 
adventure. — Accidentally one approacbes, one feels, 
one stays, and little by little one gets entangled. Tbe 
bappiness increases, — tben it is disturbed ; one is 
deligbted, — tben comes distress ; and before one is 
aware of it, it is even a romance. Let us also give a 
play in tbis manner. Do but grasp into tbe tbick of 
buman life ! Every one lives it, — ^to not many is it 
known ; and seize it wbere you will, it is interesting. 
Little cleamess in motley Images! mucb falsebood and 
a spark of trutb ! tbis is tbe way to brew tbe best 
liquor, wbicb refresbes and edifies all tbe world. Tben 
assembles youtb's fairest fiower to see your play, and 
listens to tbe revelation. Tben every gentle mind 
sucks melancboly nourisbment for itself from out your 
work; tben one wbile tbis, and one wbile tbat, is stirred 
up; eacb one sees wbat be carries in bis beart« Tbey 
are as yet equally ready to weep and to laugb ; tbey 
still bonour tbe soaring, are pleased witb tbe glitter* 



PROLOGUE rOE THE THBATKE. 7 

One who is formed, ihereis no such thing as pleasing; 
one who is forming, will alwajs be grateful. 

Poet. Then gi?e me also back again the times, 
when I myself was stDl forming ; when a fountain of 
erowded lays sprang freshly and unbrokenly forth ; 
when mists veiled the world before me, — the bud still 
promised miracles ; when I gathered the thousand 
flowers which profusely fiUed all the dales ! I had 
nothing, and yet enough, — the longing after truth, and 
the pleasure in delusion ! Give me back those im- 
pulses mitamed, — ^the deep, pain-fraught happiness, 
the energy of hate, the might of love ! — Give me back 
my youth ! 

Merryman, Tooth, my good friend, you want in- 
deed, when foep press you hard in the fight, — when the 
loveliest of lasses cling with ardour round your neck, — 
when from afar, the garland of the swift course beckons 
from the hard-won goal, — when, after the dance's 
maddening whirl, one drinks away the night carousing. 
But to strike the familiär lyre with spirit and grace, to 
sweep along, with happy wanderings, towards a self- 
appointed aim; — that, old gentlemen, is your duty, and 
we honour you not the less on that account. Old age 
does not make childish, as men say ; it only finds us 
Btill as true children. 

Manager. Words enough have been interchanged; 
let me now see deeds also. Whilst yt>a are turning 
compliments, something useful may be done. What 
boots it to stand talking about being in the yein ? The 
hesitating never is so. If ye once give yourselves out 
for poets,— command poesy. You well know what we 
want; wewould sip streng driuk — now brew awayim- 
mediately ! What is not duing to-day is not done to- 
morrow ; and no day should be wasted in dallying. 
Resolution should boldly seize the possible hy the fore- 



8 FBOLOGUE FOB THE THEATRE. 

lock at once. She will then not l^t it go, and works 
on, because she cannot help it. 

You know, upon our German stage, every one tries 
what he likes. Therefore spare me neither scenery 
nor machinerj upon this day. Use the greater and 
the lesser light of heaven ; joit are free to squander 
the Stars; there is no want of water, fire, rocks, beaats, 
and birds. So tread, in this narrow booth, the whole 
circle of creation ; and travel, with considerate speed, 
from Heaven, through the World, to Hell. 



FAUST. 



PROLOGUE IN HEAVEN. 

The Lord — the Hejitenly Hosts. Afterwa/rdB 

MePHI 8TOPHELES. 

The Three Archatigeh come foruHvrd* 

RaphaeL The san chimes in, as ever, with the 
emulous music of his brother spheres, and performs 
his prescribed joumej with thunder-speed, His as- 
pect gives strength to the angels, though none can 
fathom him. Thy inconceivablj sublime works are 
glorious as on the first day. 

Gabriel, And rapid, inconceivably rapid, the pomp 
of the earth revolves ; the brightness of paradise 
altemates with deep, fearful night. The sea foams up 
in broad waves at the deep base of the rocks ; and 
rock and sea are whirled on in the ever rapid course 
of the spheres/ 

Michael. And storms are roaring as if in rivalry, 
from sea to land, from land to sea, and form all 
around a chain of the deepest ferment in their rage. 
There, flashing desolation flares before the path of 
the thunder-clap. But thy messengers, Lord, respect 
the mild going of ihy day. 



10 PROLOGUE IN HEAVEN. 

The Three. Thy aspect gives strength to tlie 
angels, though none can fathom thee, and all thj 
sublime works are glorious as on the first daj. 

Mephistopheles. Since, Lord, you approach once 
again, and inquire how things are going on with us, 
and on other occasions were generally not displeased 
to See me — ^therefore is it that you see me also among 
your suite. Excuse me, I cannot talk fine, not though 
the whole circle should cry scom on me. My pathos 
would certainly make you laugh, had you not left off 
laughing. I have nothing to say ahout suns and 
worlds ; I only mark how men are plaguing them- 
selves. The little god of the world continues ever of 
the same stamp, and is as odd as on the first day. 
He would lead a somewhat better lifo of it, had you 
not given him a glimmering of heayen*s light. He 
calls ii reason, and uses it only to be more brutal 
than every other brüte. He seems to me, with your 
Grace's leave, like one of the long-legged grass- 
hoppers, which is ever flying, and bounding as it flies, 
and then sings its old song in the grass ; — and would 
that he did but lie always in the grass ! He thrusts 
his nose into every puddle. 

The Lord, Have you nothing eise to say to me ? 
Are you always Coming for no other purpose than to 
complain? Is nothing ever to your liking upon 
earth ? 

Mephistopheles, No, Lord ! I find things there, 
as ever, miserably had. Men, in their day s of wretch- 
edness, move my pity ; even I myself have not the 
heart to torment the poor things. 

The Lord, Do you know Faust ? 

Mephistopheles, The Doctor ? 
" The Lord, My servant ? 

Mephistopheles, Verily ! he serves you after a 



PROLOGÜE IN HEAVEN. 11 

fashion of bis own. The foors meat and drink are 
not of earth. The ferment impels him towards 
the far away. He himself is half conscious of his 
madness. Of heaven — he demands its brightest 
Stars ; and of earth — ^its every highest enjoyment ; 
and all the near, and all the far, contents not his 
deeply-agitated breast. 

The Lord. Although he does but serve me in 
perplexity now, I shall soon lead him into light. 
Wben the tree buds, the gardener knows that blossem 
and fruit will deck the Coming years. 

Mephistopheles. What will you wager ? you shall 
lose him yet, if you give me leave to guide him 
quietly my own way. 

The Lord. So long as he lives upon the earth, so 
lono: be it not forbidden to theo. Man is liable to 
error, whilst his struggle lasts. 

Mephistopheles, I am much obliged to you for 
that ; for I have never had any fancy for the dead. 
I like plump, fresh cheeks the best. I am not at 
home to a corpse. I am like the cat with the mouse. 

The Lord. Enough, it is permitted theo. Divert 
this spirit from his original source, and bear him, if 
thou canst seize him, down on thy own path with 
thee. And stand abashed, when thou art compelled 
to own — a good man, in his dark strivings, may still 
be üonscious of the right way. 

Mephistopheles. Well, well, — only it will not last 
long. I am not at all in pain for my wager. Should 
1 succeed, excuse my triumphing with my whole 
soul. Dust shall he eat, and with a relish, like my 
Cousin, the renowned snake. 

the Lord, There also you are free to act as you 
like. I have neyer hated the like of you. Of all the 
Bpirits that deny, the scoffer is the least offensive to 



12 PROLOGUE IN HEAVEN. 

me. Man 's activitj is all too prone to slumber : he 
soon gets fond of unconditional repose ; I am there- 
fore glad to give him a companion, who stirs and 
works, and must, as devil, be doing. Bat ye, the 
true children of heaven, rejoice in the living profusion 
of beauty. The creative essence, which works and 
lives through all time, embrace you within the happy 
bounds of love ; and what hovers in changeful seem- 
ing, do ye fix firm with everlasting thoughts. 

[Heaven dous, the ÄrcJumgela disperse» 

Mephistopheles (ahne). I like to see the Ancieut 
One occasionally, and take care not to break with him. 
It is really civil in so great a Lord, to speak so kindly 
, with the Deyil himself. 



THE DRAMA 



NIGHT. 



Faust in a TUgk^aidted narrow Gothic ckcmber, seated 
resUessly at his desk. 

Faust. I have now, alas, by zealous exertion, 
thoroughly mastered philosophy, the jurist's craft, 
and medicine,-^and to my sorrow, theology too. Here 
% stand, p^r fool that I am, just as wise as before. 
I am calldrMaster, ay, and Doctor, and have now 
for nearjjr t^n years been leading my pupils about-— 
-Uf ani dbiiVTi, crossways and crooked ways — ^by the 
ftosef; and iBee that we can know nothing ! This it 
i& that almost bums up the heart within me. Tru'e, 
i an^ cleyerer than all the solemn triflers — doctors, 
masterB, writers, and priests. No doubts nor scruples 
trouble me ; I fear neither hell nor the devil. For 
tMß very reason is all joy tom from me. I no longer 
fancy I know anything worth knowing ; I no longer 
fancy I could teach anything to better and to oonvert 
mankind. Then I have neither land nor money, nor 
houour and rank in the world. No dog would fike to 
live so any longer. I have therefore devoted myself 
to magic — whether, through the power and voice of 
the Spirit, many a mystery might not become known 






14 NIOHT-SGENE. 

to me ; that I may no longer, with bitter sweat, be 
obliged to speak of what I do not know ; tbat I may 
leam wbat bolds tbe world togetber in its inmost 
core, see all tbe Springs and seeds of production, and 
driye no longer a paltry traffic in words. 

Ob! woi2d tbat tbou, radiant moonligbt, wert 
looking for tbe last time upon my misery ; tbou, for 
wbom I baye sat watcbing so many a midnigbt at 
tbis desk ; tben, oyer books and papers, melancboly 
friend, didst tbon appear to me ! Ob ! tbat I migbt 
wander on tbe moimtain-tops in tby loyed ligbt — 
boyer witb spirits round tbe mountain cayes — flit 
oyer tbe fields in tby glimmer, and, disencumbered 
from all tbe fumes of knowledge, batbe myself sound 
in tby dew ! 

Woe is me ! am I still penned up in tbis dun- 
geon ? — accursed, musty, walled bole ! — wbere eyen 
tbe precious ligbt of beayen breaks mournfully tbrougb 
painted panes, stinted by tbis beap of books, — wbicb 
Worms eat— dust begrimes — wbicb, up 1Ä tbe yery 
top of tbe yault, a smoke-smeared paper encom- 
passes ; witb glasses, bozes ranged round, witb in- 
struments piled up on all sides, ancestral lumber 
stufied in witb tbe rest. Tbis is tby world, and a 
precious world it is ! 

And dost tbou still ask, wby tby beart flutters con- 
finedly in tby bosom ? — Wby a yague acbing deadens 
witbin tbee.eyery stirring pri^iple of life ? — Instead 
of tbe animated nature, for wbicb God made man, 
tbou bast nougbt around tbee but beasts* skeletons 
and dead men*s bonos, in smoke and mould. 

Up I away ! out into tbe wide world ! And tbis 
mysterious book, from Nostradamus* own band, is it 
not guido enougb for tbee ! Tbou tben knowest tbe 
course of tbe stars, and, wben nature instructs tbee, 



NIOHT-SGENE. 15 

ihe soul's essence then rises up to theo, as one spirit 
speaks to another. Yain ! that doli poring here 
ezpounds the holj signs to thee ! Ye are hoyering, 
ye Spirits, near me ; answer me if you hear me. 
[jGTe (ypena ike book and perceives the sign of the MacrocoBm, 

Ah ! what rapture thrills all at once through all 
mj sensefi at this sight ! I feel fresh, hallowed life- 
joj, new-glowing, shoot through nerve and vein. Was 
it a god that traced these signs ? — ^which still the 
storm within me, fill mj poor heart with gladness, 
and, hj a mjstical intuition, unyeil the powers of 
nature all around me. Am I a god ? All grows so 
bright! I see, in these pure lines, Nature herseif 
working in my souFs presence. Now for the first 
time do I conceive what the sage saith, — ** The spirit- 
world is not closed. Thy sense is shut, thy heart 
is dead ! Up, acolyte ! bathe, untired, thy earthly 
breast in the moming-red. '* [JSTc contem^platet ike sign. 

How all weaves itself into the whole ; one works 
and lives in the other. How heavenly powers ascend 
and descend, and reach each other the golden bück- 
et«, — ^with bliss-ezhaling pinions, press from heaven 
through earth, all ringing harmoniously through the 
All. 

What a show ! but Ah ! a show only ! Where 
shall I seize thee, infinite nature ? Ye breasts, 
where ? ye sources of all life, on which hang heaven 
and earth, towards which the blighted breast presses 
— ye gush, y« suckle, and am I thus languishing in 
vain? 

\_JIe tv/ms over the hoch indignantly, and sees the sign 
of ihe Spirii of the Earüi, 

How differently this sign afFects me ! Thou, 
Spm't of the Earth, art nearer to me. Already do 
I feel my energies exalted, already glow as with new 



16 NIGHT-SCENE. 

wine ; I feel courage to venture into the world ; to 
endure etfrthly weal, earthly woe ; to wrestle with 
8torms, and stand unshaken mid the shipwreck's 
Crash. — Clouds thicken over me ; the moon pales her 
light ; the lamp dies awaj ; exhalations arise ; red 
beams flash round mj head ; a cold shuddering flickers 
down f rom the vaulted roof and fastens on me ! I 
feel it — thou art flitting round me, prayer-compelled 
Spirit. ünveil thyself ! Ah ! what a tearing in 
my heai't — all my senses are up-stirring to new 
sensations! I feel my whole heart surrendered to 
thee. Thou must — thou must! — should it cost me 
my lifo. 

{ffe 8^268 the hooJc and prcmotmees m/ysticcMy the sign 

of the Spirit. A red flame fiashea up ; Ae Spibit 

appeara in Üieflame, 

Spirit* Who calls to me ? 

Faust (averting his face). Horrible vision ! 

Spirit, Thou hast compelled me hither, by dint 
of long sucking at my sphere. And now — 

Faust, Torture ! I endure thee not. " , 

Spirit, Thou, prayest, panting, to see me, to hear 
my voice, to see my face. Thy powerful invocation 
works upon me. I am here ! What pitiful terror 
seizes thee, the demigod ! Where is the soul^s call- 
ing ? Where is the breast, that created a world in 
itself, and upbore and cherished it? which, with. 
tremors of delight, swelled to lift itself to a level with 
US, the Spirits. Where art thou, Faust ? whose 
voice rang to me, who pressed towards me with all his 
energies ? Art thou he ? thou, who, at the bare per- 
ception of my breath, art shivering through all the 
depths of life, a trembling, writhing worm ? 

Faust, Shall I yield to thee, child of fire ? 1 am 
he, am Faust thy equal. 



J 



NIGHT SCENS. 17 

Spirit. In the tides of life, 

In the storm of action, 

I am tossed np and down, ' 

I drift hither and thither, 

Birtb and graye. 

An etemal sea, 

A changeful weaving, 

A glowing life — 
Thus I work at the whizzing loom of time, 
And weave the living clothing of the Deitj. 

Faust. Busj spirit, thou who sweepest round the 
wide World, how near I feel to thee ! 

SpiriU Thou art mate for the Spirit whom thou 
conceiyest, not for me. {Ui^ Spirit vanithes, 

Faust {collapsing), Not for thee! For whom then? 

I, tho Image of the Deity, and not mate for even thee ! 

[Ä hnochvng at the door. 

Oh, death I I know it : that is mj amanuensis. Mj 
fairest fortune is turned to nought. That the un- 
idea*d grov^Uer must disturb this fulness of visions ! 

[Wagner enten in his dressvng-gofpn and night-^sap, feith a 
lamp im his Tumd, Faust turnt round in diapleaawre. 

Wagner. Excuse me — I hear you declaiming ; 
you were surely reading a Greek tragedy. I should 
Uke to improve myself in this art, for now-a-days it 
infiuences a good deal. I have often heard say, a 
player might instruct a priest. 

Faust. Yes, when the priest is a player, as may 
Hkely enough come to pass occasionally. 

Waffner. Ah ! when a man is so confined to his 
study, and hardly sees the world of a holyday — ^hardly 
through a telescope, only from afar — ^how is he to lead 
it by persuasion ? 

Faust. If you do not feel it, you will not get it by 

c 



i.^ 



18 jriGHT SOEKE. 

hunting for it, — if it does not gush from the soul, 
and B^due the hearts of all hearers with original 
deliglMfiKL^^ itfor ever — ^glae together — cookup a 
hash^^^^^H^feast of others, and blow tlie paltrj 
flamesjj^^^Hfour own little heap of ashes ! You 
maj gai^^l^dmiration of children and apes, if you 
have a stomach for it ; but you will never touch the 
hearts of others, if it does not flow fresh from your own. 

Wagner. But it is elocution that makes the ora- 
tor's success. I feel well that I am still far behind 
hand. 

Faust. Try what can be got by honest means — 
Be no tinkling fool ! — Reason and good sense are ex- 
pressed with little art. And when j^ou are seriously 
intent on saying something, is it necessary to hunt 
for words ? Your Speeches, I say, which are so glit- 
tering, in which ye crisp the shreds of humanity, are 
unrefreshing as the mist-wind which whistles through 
the withered leaves in autumn. 

Wagner. Oh, God ! art is long, and our life is 
short. Often indeed, during my critical studies, do I 
suffer both in head and beart äow hard it is to 
compass the means by which one mounts to the foun- 
tain-head ; and before he has got half way, a poor 
devil must probably die ! 

Faust, Is parchment the holy well, a drink from 
which allays the thirst for ever? Thou hast not 
gained refreshment, if it gushes not from thy own souL 

Wagner, Ezcuse me ! it is a great pleasure to 
transport one*s-self into the spirit of the times ; to see 
how a wise man has thought before us, and to what a 
glorious height we have at last carried it. 

Faust. Oh, yes, up to the very stars. My friend, 
the past ages are to us a book with seveu seals. 
What you term the spirit of the times, is at bottom 



NIGHT SCENE. 19 

only your own spirit, in which the times are reflected. 
A miserable exhibition, too, it frequently is ! One 
runs away from it at the first glance ! A dirt-tub 
and a lumber-room ! — and, at best, a puppet-show 
play, with fine pragmatical saws, such as may happen 
to sound well in the mouths of the puppets ! 

Wagner, But the world ! the heart and mind of 
man ! every one would like to know something about 
that. 

Faust. Aye, what is called knowing ! Who dares 
call the child by its true name ? The few who have 
ever known anything about it, who sillily enough did 
not keep a guard over their füll hearts, who revealed 
what they had feit and seen to the multitude, — these, 
time immemorial, have been cnicified and bumed. I 
beg, friend — ^the night is far advanced — for the pre- 
sent we must break off. 

Wagner, I could fain have kept waking to con- 
verse with you so leamedly. To-morrow, however, 
the first day of Easter, permit me a question or two 
more. Zealously have I devoted myself to study. 
True, I know much ; but I would faiu know all. [Exit. 

Faust {cdone), How all hope only quits not the 
brain, which clings perseveringly to trash,- — gropes 
with greedy band for treasures, and exidts at finding 
earth-worms ! 

Bare such a human voice sound here, where all 
around me teemed with spirits ? Yet ah, this once I 
thank thee, thou poorest of all the sons of earth. 
Tbou didst snatch me from despair, which had well- 
nigh got the better of sense. Alas ! the vision was 
80 giant-great, that I feit quite shinmk into a dwarf. 

I, formed in God's own image, who already thought 
myself near to the mirror of etemal truth ; who re- 
velled, in heaven's lustre and cleamess, with the 

o2 



20 NIGHT SCEXE. 

earthly part of me stripped ofF ; I, more than cherub 
whose free spirit already, in its imaginative soarings, 
aspired to glide through nature's veins, and, in creat- 
ing, enjoy the life of gods — how must I atone for it ! 
a thunder-word has swept me wide away. 

I dare not presame to mate myself with thee. If 
I have possessed the power to draw thee to me, I 
had no power to hold thee. In that hlest moment, 
I feit so little, so great ; you cruelly thrust me back 
lipon the uncertain lot of humanity. Who will teach 
me ? What am I to shun ? Must I obey that im- 
pulse ? Alas ! our actions, equally with our auffer- 
ings, clog the course of our lives. 

Something foreign, and more foreign, is ever cling- 
ing to the neblest coneeption the mind can form. 
When we have attained to the good of this world, 
what is better is termed falsehood and vanity. The 
glorious feelings which gave us life, grow torpid in 
the worldly hüstle. 

If phantasy, at one time, on daring wing, and füll 
of hope, dilates to infinity, — a little space is now 
enough for her, when venture after venture has been 
wrecked in the whirlpool of time. Care straightway 
nestles in the depths of the heart, hatches vague tor- 
tures there, rocks herseif restlessly, and frightens joy 
and peace away. She is ever putting on new masks ; 
she may appear as house and land, as wife and child. 
as fire, water, dagger and poison. You tremble be- 
fore all that does not befall you, and must be always 
wailing what you never lose. 

I am not like the godheads ; I feel it but too 
deeplv. I am like the worm, which drags itself 
through the dust, — which, as it seeks its living in the 
dust, is crushed and buried by the step of the 
passer-by. 



NIGHT SCBNE. 21 

Is it not dust ? all that in a hundred ahelves coq- 
tracts this lofty wall — the fripperj, which, with itti 
thousand forms of emptiness, cramps me up in this 
moth-world ? Shall I find what I want here ? Must 
I go on reading in a thousand books, that men have 
every where been miserable, that now and then there 
has been a happj oue. 

Thou, hollow scull, what mean'st thou bj that 
grin ? but that thy brain, like mine, was once bewil- 
dered, — sought the bright day, and, with an ardent 
loQging after truth, went miserably astray in the 
twilight ? 

Te instrumenta are surely mocking me, with your 
wheels and cogs, cylinders and coUars. I stood at 
the gate, ye were to be the key ; true, your wards 
are curiously twisted, but you raise not the holt. In- 
scrutable at broad day, nature does not suffer herseif 
to be robbed of her veil ; and what she does not choose 
to reveal to thy mind, thou wilt not wrest from her 
by levers and screws. 

Thou, antiquated lumber, which I have never used, 
thou art here only because my father had occasion 
for you. Thou, old roll, hast been growing smoke- 
besmeared since the dim lamp first smouldered at this 
desk. Far better would it be for me to have squan- 
dered away the little I possess, than to be sweating 
here under the burthen of that little. To possess 
what thou hast inherited from thy sires, enjoy it. 
What one does not profit by, is an oppressive bürden ; 
what the moment brings forth, that only can it pre- 
ßt by. 

But why are my looks fastened on that spot : is 
ihat phial there a magnet to my eyes ? Why, of a 
sudden, is all so exquisitely, bright, as when the 
moonlight breathes round one benighted in the wood ? 



r 



22 NIGHT SCENE. 

I hail thee, thou precious pbial, which I now take 
down with reverence ; in thee I honour the wit and 
art of man. Thou abstraction of kind soporific Juices, 
thou concentration of all refined deadlj essences, sbow 
tby favour to tby master ! I see tbee, and tbe pang 
is mitigated ; I grasp tbee, and tbe struggle abates ; 
tbe spirit's flood-tide ebbs by degrees. I am beckoned 
out into tbe wide sea ; tbe glassy wave glitters at 
my feet ; anotber day invites to otber sbores. 

A cbariot of fire waves, on ligbt pinions, down to 
me. 1 feel prepared to permeate tbe realms of space, 
on a new track, to new spberes of pure activity, 
Tbis sublime existence, tbis god-like beatitude ! And 
tbou, worm but now, dost tbou merit it ? Aye, only 
resolutely tum tby back on tbe lovely sun of tbis 
eartb ! Dare to tear up tbe gates wbicb eacb will- 
ingly slinks by ! Now is tbe time to sbow by deeds 
tbat man's dignity yields not to God*s sublimity, — ^to 
quaU not in presence of tbat dark abyss, in wbieh 
pbantasy damns itaelf to its own torments — ^to struggle 
onwards to tbat pass, round wbose narrow moutb all 
Hell is flaming ; calmly to resolve upon tbe step, even 
at tbe risk of dropping into notbingness. 

Now come down, pure crystal goblet, on wbicb I 
bave not tbougbt for many a year,— fortb from your 
old receptacle ! You glittered at my fatber's festivi- 
ties ; you gladdened tbe grave guests, as one passed 
you to tbe otber. Tbe gorgeousness of tbe many 
artfully-wrougbt images, — tbe drinker's duty to ex- 
plain tbem in rbyme, to empty tbe Contents at a 
draugbt,— -remind me of many a nigbt of my youth. 
I sball not now pass you to a neigbbour : I sball not 
now display my wit on your devices. Here is a juice 
wbicb soon intoxicates. It fills your cavity witb its 
brown flood. Be tbis last draugbt — ^wbicb I bave 



NIGHT SCENE, 23 

brewed, which I choose — quaffed, with iny whole soul, 
as a solemn festal greeting to the mom. 

Iffe places tk£ gohlet to his motUh. The ringing of hdls 
and amging of choruaes, 

CHOBÜS OF ANOELS. 

Christ is arisen ! 
Joy to the mortal, 
Whom the corruptmg, 
Creeping, hereditary 
Imperfections enveloped. 

JFausU What deep humming, what clear strain, 
drawB irresistibly the gebiet from my mouth ? Are 
je hoUow-sounding bells already proclaiming the first 
festal hour of Easter? Are ye choruses already 
Binging the cotnforting hjmn, which once. round thi 
night of the sepulchre, pealed forth, from angel lips, 
asBurance to a new covenant ! 

CHORUS OF WOMEN. 

With spices 

Had we embalmed him ; 

We, his faithful ones, 

Had laid him out. 

Clothes and hands 

Cleanlily swathed we round ; ^ 

Ah ! and we find 

Christ no more here ! 

CHOBüS OF ANGELS. 

Christ is arisen ! 
Happy the loving one, 
^ Who the afflicting, 

Wholesome and chastening 
Trial has stood I 



24 NIGHT SCSNE. 

Fautt, Whj, je heavenlj tones, Bubduing and 
soft» do you seek me out in the dast? Peal out, 
where weak men are to be found ! I hear the mes- 
sage, but want faith. Miracle is the pet child of 
faith. I dare not aspire to those spberes from whence 
the glad tidings sound ; and yet, accustomed to this 
sound from infancy, it even now calls me back to lifo. 
In other dajs, the kiss of heavenly love descended 
upon me in the solemn stiUness of the Sabbath ; then 
the full-toned bell sounded so fraught with mystic 
meaning, and a prayer was intense enjoyment. A 
longing, inconceivably sweet, drove me forth to wander 
over wood and piain, and amidst a thousand burning 
tears, I feit a world rise up to me. This anthem 
harbingered the gay sports of youth, the unchecked 
happiness of spring festivity. RecoUection now holds 
me back, with childlike feeling, from the last decisive 
Step. Oh ! sound on, ye sweet heavenly strains ! 
The tear is flowing, earth has me again. 

CHORUS OF DISCIPLES. 

The Buried One, 
Already on high, 
Idving, sublime, 
Has gloriously nüsed himself ! 
He is, in reviving-bliss, 
Near to creating.joy. 
Ah ! on earth's bosom 
Are we for suffering here ! 
He left US, his own, 
Languishing here below ! 
Alas ! we weep over, 
Master, thy happy lot 1 



♦ 



NIGHT BCENE. 25 



CHORUS OF ANGRLS. 

Christ is arisen 

Out of comiption's lap. 

JoyfuUy tear yourselves 

Loose from your bonds ! 

Ye, in deeds giving praise to him, 

Love manifesting, 

Breaking bread brethren-like, 

Trayelling and preaching him, 

Bliss promising — 

You is the master nigh, 

For you is he here ! 



26 



BEFORB THE GATE. 

Promenaders of all hinds pass otU, 

Some Mechanics, Why that way ? 
. Oihers. We are going up to the Jägerhaus. 

The Former, But we are going to the mill. 

A Mechanic, I advise you to go to the Wasserhof. 

Ä Second, The road is not at all pleasant. 

The others* What shall you do then ? 

A Third, I am going with the others. 

A Fourth. Come up to Burghdorf ; you are there 
sure of finding the prettiest girls and the hest beer, 
and rows of the first order. 

A Fifth. You wild fellow, is your skin itching for 
the third time ? I don't like going there ; I have a 
horror of the place. 

Seroant Girl, No, no, I shall retum to the town. 

Avwther, We shall find him to a certainty hy those 
poplars. 

The First, That is no great gain for me. He 
will walk by your side. With you alone does he 
dance upon the green. What have I to do with your 
pleasures ? 

The Second, He is sure not to be alone to-day. 
The curly-head, he said, would be with him. 

Student, The devil ! how the brave wenches step 
out ; come along, brother, we must go with them. 
Strong beer, stinging tobacco, and a girl in füll trim, 
— that now is my taste. 

Citizen' s Daughters, Now do but look at those 



BEFORE THE GATE. 27 

fiue lads ! It is really a sliame. Thej miglit have 
the best of Company, and are running affcer these 
servant-girls. 

Second Stxident to the First, Not so fast ! there 
are two coming up behind ; tbey are trimly dressed 
out. One of them is my neigbbour ; I bave a great 
liking for tbe girl. Tbey are Walking in tbeir quiet 
way, and yet will suflfer us to join tbem in tbe end. 

The First, No, brotber. I do not like to be under 
restraint. Quick, lest we lose tbe game. Tbe band 
that twirls tbe mop on a Saturday, wiU fondle you best 
on Sundays. 

Toumsman. No, tbe new Burgomaster is not to 
my taste ; now tbat be bas become so, be is daily 
getting bolder ; and wbat is be doing for tbe town ? 
Is it not growing worse every day ? One is obliged 
to submit to more restraints tban ever, and pay more 
than in any time before. 

Beggar (sings), Ye good gentlemen, ye lovely 
ladies, so trimly dressed and rosy cbeeked, be pleased 
to look upon me, to regard and relieve my wants. Do 
not suffer me to sing bere in vain, Tbe free-banded 
only is ligbt-bearted. Be tbe day, wbicb is a boliday 
to all, a barvest-day to me. 

Another Townsman, I know notbing better on 
Sundays and bolidays tban a cbat of war and war's 
alarms, wben people are figbting, bebind, far away in 
Turkey. A man Stands at tbe window, takes off bis 
glass, and sees tbe painted vessels glide down tbe 
river ; tben retums home glad at beart at eve, and 
blesses peace and times of peace. 

Third Townsman. Aye, neigbbour, I bave no ob- 
jection to tbat ; tbey may break one anotber's beads, 
and tum everytbing topsy-turvy, for augbt I care ; 
only let tbings at bome remain as tbe w are. 



2S BEFORE THE GATE. 

An Old Woman to the Citizens* Daughiers. Hey 
dej : how smart ! the pretty young creatures. Who 
would not be smitten with you ? Only not so proud ! 
it is all very well ; and what you wish, I should know 
how to put you in the way of getting. 

Citizens Daughter. Come along, Agatha. I take 
care not to be seen with such witches in public ; true, 
on Saint Andrew^s eve, she showed me my future 
sweetheart in flesh and blood. 

The other. She showed me mine in the glass, 
soldier-like, with other bold fellows ; I look arouud, 
I seek him everywhere, but I can never meet with 
him. 



Soldier. 



Towns with lofty 
Walls and battlements, 
Maidens with proud 
Scornful thoughts, 
I fain would win. 
Bold the adventure, 
Noble the reward. 

And the trumpets 

Are our summoners 

As to joy 

So to death. 

That is a storming, 

That is a lifo for you ! 

Maidens and towns 
Must surrender. 
Bold the adventure. 
Noble the reward — 
And the soldiers 
Are off. 



BEFORE THE GATE. 29 

Faust and Wagner. 

Faust River and rivulet are freed from ice by the 
gaj quickening glance of the spring. The jojs of 
hope are budding in the dale. Old winter, in his 
weakness, has retreated to the bleak mountains ; from 
thence he sends, in his flight, nothing but impotent 
showers of hail, in flakes, over the green-growing 
meadows. But the Sun endures no white. Produc- 
tion and growth are ererywhere stirring ; he is about 
to enliTen everjthing with colours. The landscape 
wants flowers ; he takes fi^aily-dressed men and women 
instead. Tum and lock Wk from this rising ground 
upon the town. Forth from the gloomy portal presses 
x^ a motley crowd. Every one suns himself so willingly 
to-day. They celebrate the rising of the Lord, for 
they themselves have arisen ; — ^from the damp rooms of 
mean houscs, from the bondage of mechanical dnid- 
gery, from the confinement of gables and roofs, from 
the stifling narrowness of streets, from the venerable 
gloom of churches, are they all raised up to the open 
light of day. But look, löok ! how quickly the mass 
scatters itself through the garde^s and fields ; how 
the river, in breadth and length, tosses many a merry 
bark upon its surface, and how this last wherry, over- 
laden almost to sinking, moves off. Even from the 
farthest paths of the mountain, gay-coloured dresses 
glance upon us. 1 hear already the hüstle of the 
village ; here is the true heaven of the multitude ; big 
and little are huzzaing joyously. Heie, I am a man 
— ^here, I may be one. 

Wagner, To walk wj|L you, Sir Doctor, is honour 

' and profit. But I would not lose myself here alone, 

because I am an enemy to coarseness ef every sort. 

Fiddling, shouting, skittle-playing, are sounds tbo- 



30 BEFORE THE GATE. 

roughlj detestable to me. People run riot as if the 
deyil was driving them, and call it merriment, call it 
aiuging. 

RUSTICS UNDER THE LIMB TREE. 

DANCE AND SONG. 

The swain dressed himself out for the dance, 
With party-coloured jacket, ribbon and garland, 
Smartly was he dressed ! 
The ring round the lime-tree was «Iready füll« 
And aU were dancing hke mad. 

Huzza! Huzza! 

Tira-lu'a-hara-la ! 
Merrily went the fiddle-stick. 

He pressed eagerly m, 
Gaye a maiden a push 
With his elbow : 
The buxom girl tumed round 
And Said — " Now that I call stupid." 

Huzza ! Huzza ! 

Tira-lira-hara-la ! 
«Don'tbesoillbred." 

Yet nimbly sped it in the ring ; 
They tumed right, they turned left, 
And all the petticoats were flyiftg. 
Xhey grew red, they grew warm, 
And rested {(aaiting arm-in-arra, 

Huzza ! Huzza ! 

Tira-lira-hara-la ! 
And elbow on hip. 

" Have done now ! don't be so fond ! " 
How many a man has cajoled and 



BEFORE THE GATE. ^ 31 

Deceired bis betrothed. 

But he coaxed ber aside, 

And far and wide echoed from the lime-tree 

Huzza I Huzza ! 

Tira-lira-bara-la ! 
Shouts and fiddle-sticks. 

Old Peasant Doctor, this is really good of you, 
not to scorn us to-day, and great scholar as jou are, 
to mingle in this crowd. Take then the fairest jug, 
which we have fiUed with fresh liquor : I pledge you 
in it, and pray aftud tbat it may do more than quench 
your thirst — ^may the number of drops which it holds 
be added to your days ! 

Faust I accept the refreshing draught, and wish 
you all health and happiness in return. 

[Thepeople collect rotmd kirn. 

Old PeasanU Of a surety it is well done of you, 
to appear on this glad day. You have been our friend 
in evil days, too, before now. Many a one Stands 
here alive whom your father tore from the bot fever 's 
rage, when he stayed the pestilence. You too, at 
that time a young man, went into every sick-house : 
many a dead body was borne forth, but you came out 
safe. You endured many a sore trial. The Helper 
above helped the helper. 

All, Health to the" tried friend — may he long 
have the power to help ! 

Favst, Bend before Him. on high, who jaches 
how to help, and sends help. 

{ffeproceeds toiih Wagner, 

Wagner, What a feeling, great man, must you 
experience at the honours paid you by this multitude. 
Oh, happy he who can tum his gifts to so good an 
account. The father points you out to his boy ; all 



32 BEFORE THB GATE. 

ask, and presB, and hurrj round. The fiddle stops, 
tbe dancer panBes. As you go by, they ränge them- 
selves in towb, caps fly into the air, sind they all but 
bend the knee as if the Host were passing. 

Faust, Only a few steps farther, up to that stone 
yonder! Here we will rest from our walk. Here 
many a time have I sat, thoughtful and solitary, and 
mortified myself with prayer and fasting. Rieh in 
hope, firm in faith, I thought to eztort the stoppage 
of that pestilence from the Lord of Heayen, with 
tears, and sighs, and wringing of 4iands. The ap- 
plause of the multitude now somids to me like derision. 
Oh ! couldst thou read in my inmost soul, how little 
father^and son have merited such an honour! My 
father was a worthy, sombre man, who, honestly but 
in bis own way, meditated, with wbimsical appliea- 
tion, on nature and her hallowed circles ; who, in the 
Company of adepts, shut himself up in the dark labo- 
ratory, and fused contraries together after numberless 
reeipes. There was a red lion, a hold lover, married 
to the lily in the tepid bath, and then both, with open 
flame, tortured from one bridal Chamber to another. 
If the young queen, with varied hues, then appeared 
in the glass — this was the physic ; the patients died, 
and no one inquiKd who recovered. Thus did we, 
with belli sh electuaries, rage in these vales and rooun- 
tains far worse than the pestilence. I myself have 
given the poison to thousands ; they pined away, 
and I must survive to hear the reckless murderers 
praised ! 

Wagner. How can you make yourself uneasy on 
that account ? Is it not enough for a good man to 
practise conscientiously and scrupulously the art that 
has been handed over to bim ? If, in youth, yon 
honour your father, you will willingly leam from 



BEPORE THE GATE. 33 

him : if, in manhood, you extend the bounds of know- 
ledge, your son may mount still higher than you. 

Faust, Oh, happy he, who can still hope to emerge 
from this sea of error ! We would use the very thing 
we know not, and cannot use what we know. But 
let US not embitter the blessing of this hour by such 
melancholy reflections. See, how the green-girt 
cottages shimmer in the setting Sun ! He bends and 
smks — the day is overlived. Yonder he hurries off, 
and quickens other lifo. Oh l that I have no wing 
to lif^ me from the ground, to struggle after, for ever 
after, him ! I should see, in everlasting evening 
beams, the stilUf world at my feet, — every height ou 
fire, — every vale in repose, — the silver brook flowing 
into golden streams. The rugged mountain, with all 
its dark defiles, would not then break my godlike 
course. — ^Already the sea, with its heated bays, opens 
OQ my enraptured sight. Yet the god seems at last 
to sink away. But the new Impulse wakes. I hurry 
on to drink his everlasting light, — the day before me 
and the night behind, — ^the heavens above, and imder 
me the waves. — A glorious dream ! as it is passing, 
he is gone. Alas, no bodily wing will so easily keep 
pace with the wings of the mind. Yet it is the in- 
born tendency of our being for fe^ing to strive up- 
wards and onwards ; when, over us, lost in the blue 
expanse, the lark sings its trilling lay: when, over 
nigged pine-covered heights, the outspread eagle 
soars ; and over marsh and sea, the crane struggles 
onwards to her home. 

Wagner, I myself have often had my whimsical 
moments, but I never yet experienced an Impulse of 
the kind. Ono soon looks one's fiU of woods and 
fields. I shall never envy the wings of the bird, 
How differently the pleasures of the mind bear us. 



/ 



34 BEFORE THE GATE. 

from book to book, from page to page. With them, 
winter nights become cheerful and brigbt, a bappy 
life warms every limb, and, ah ! wheu you actuaUy 
unroU a predous manuscript, all heaven oomes down 
to you. 

Faust. Thou art conscious only of one Impulse. 
Oh, never become acquainted with the other ! Two 
soiüs, alas, dwell in my breast : the one would fain 
separate itself from the other. The one cHngs, with 
persevering föndness, to the world, with organs like 
cramps of steel : the other lifts itself energetically 
from the mist to the reahns of an exalted ancestry. 
Oh ! if there be spirits^in the air, which hover ruling 
'twixt earth and heaven, descend ye, from your golden 
atmosphere, and lead me off to a new yariegated life. 
Aye, were but a magic mantle mine, and could it bear 
me into foreign lands, I would not part with it for the 
costliest garments — not for a king*s mantle. 

Wagner. Invoke not the weU-known troop, which 
diffuses itself, Streaming, through the atmosphere» 
and prepares danger in a thousand forms, from every 
quarter, to man. The sharp-fanged spirits, with ar- 
rowy tongues, press upon you from the north ; from 
the east, they come parching, and feed upon yonr 
lungs. If the south sends from the desert those which 
heap fire after fire upon thy brain, the west brings 
the swarm which only refreshes, to drown fields, mea- 
dows, and yourself. They are fond of listening, ever 
keenly alive for mischief : they obey with pleasure, 
because they take pleasure to delude ; they feign to be 
sent from heaven, aud lisp like angels when they lie. 
But let US be going ; the earth is already grown grey, 
the air is chill, the mist is falling ; it is only in the 
evenmg that we set a proper value on our homes. 
Why do you stand still, and gaze with astonishment 



SEFORE THE OATE. 35 

thus? What can tbus üx your attention in the 
gloaming ? 

Faust. Seest thou the black dog ranging through 
the com and stubble ? 

Wagner, I saw bim long ago ; be did not strike 
me as any tbing particular. 

Fatist. Mark bim well ! for wbat do jou take tbe 
brüte? 

Wagner. For a poodle, wbo, in bis way, is puzzling 
out tbe track of bis master. 

Faust. Dost tbou mark bow, in wide Spiral _curves, ^^ 
he quests round and ever nearer us? and, if I err not, 
a line of fire foUows upon bis track. 

Wajgner, I see notbing but a black poodle; you 
may be deceived by some optical illusion. 

Faust. It appears to me, tbat be is drawing ligbt 
magical nooses, to form a toil aronnd our feet. 

Wagner. I see bim bounding besitatingly and sbily 
aromid us, because, instead of bis master, be sees two 
Btrangers. 

Faust. Tbe cirele grows narrow ; be is already close. 

Wagner. You see, it is a dog, and no spirit. He 
growls and besitates, croucbes on bis belly and wags 
witb bis tail — all as dogs are wont to do. 

Faust. Come to us! — Hitber! 

Wagner. It's a droll creature of a dog. Stand 
still, and be will sit on bis bind legs; speak to bim, and 
he will jump upon you ; lose augbt, and be will fetcb 
it to you, and jump into tbe water for yoiu: stick. 

Faust. I believe you are rigbt; I find no trace of 
a spirit, and all is training. 

Wagner. Even a wise man may become attacbed 
to a dog wben be is well brougbt up. And be ricbly 
deserves all your favour, — be, tbe accomplisbed pupil of 
your students, as be is. {They enter the gcOe of the tovm. 

d2 



36 



FAUST'S STUDY. 

Faust entering toüh the poodk. 

I have left plain and ineadow yeiled in deep night, 
which wakes the hetter soul within us with a holy feel- 
ing of foreboding awe. Wild desires are now sunk in 
sleep, with everj deed of violence: the love of man is 
stirring — the love of God is stirring now. 

Be quiet, poodle, run not hither and thither. What 
are you snuffling at on the threshold ? Lie down behind 
the stove ; there is mj best cushion for you. As with- 
out, upon the mountain path, you amused us by running 
and gamboUing, so now receiye my kindness as a wel- 
come quiet guest. * 

Ah ! when the lamp is again buming friendjly in our 
narrow cell, then all becomes clear in our bosöm» — ^in 
the heart that knows itself. Reason begins to speak, 
and hope to bloom, again ; we yearn for the streams — 
oh yes, for the fountain, of lifo. 

Growl not, poodle ; the brutish sound ill harmonises 
with the hallowed tones which now possess my whole 
soul. We are accustomed to see men deride what they 
do not understand — to see them snarl at the good and 
beautiful, which is often troublesome to them. Is the 
dog disposed to snarl at it like them ? But ah ! I feel 
already that, much as I may wish for it, contentment 
wells no longer from my breast. Yet why must the 
str-eam be so soon dried up, and we again lie thirsting ? 
I have had so much experience of that ! This waut. 



J 



PAUST*S STUDY. 37 

however, admits of being compensated. We leam to 

prize that which is not of this earth; we long for reve- 

latioD, which nowhere bums more majestically or more 

beantifull j than in the New Testament. I feel impelled 

to open the original text — to translate for once, with 

upright feeKng, the sacred original into mj darling 

German. 

Iße opens a volvme, and ditposes himselffor 

tketaslc, 

It is written: ** In the beginning was the Word." 
Here I am already at a stand — ^who will help me on ? 
I cannot possibly value the Word so highly; I must 
translate it differently, if I am truly inspired by the 
ßpirit. It is written: ** In the beginning was the 
Sense. " Consider well the first line, that your pen be 
not over hasty. Is it the sense that influences and 
produces every thing ? It should stand thus : ** In 
the beginning was the Power/* Yet, even as I am 
writing down this, something wams me not to keep to 
it. The spirit comes to my aid ! At once I see my 
way, and write confidently : "In the beginning was 
theDeed." 

If I am to share the Chamber with you, poodle, cease 
your howling— cease your barking. I cannot endure 
so troublesome a companion near to me. One of us 
two must quit the cell. It is with reluctance that I 
withdraw the rights of hospitality ; the door is open — 
the way is clear for you. But what do I see ! Can 
that conie to pass by natural means ? Is it shadow — 
is it reality ? How long and broad my poodle grows ! 
He raises himself powerfully ; that is not the form of 
a dog! What a phantom I have brought into the 
hoose ! — ^he looks already like a hippopotamus, with 
fiery eyes, terrific teeth. Ah ! I am sure of thee ! 
Solomon's key is good for such a half-hellish brood. 



38 paüst's study, 

Spirits in ih$ passage, 

One is caught within ! 
Stay withouty foUow none ! 
As in the gin the fox, 
Quakes an old lynz of hell. 

But take heed ! 
Hover thither, hover back, 

üp and down, 
And he is loose ! 
If je can aid him, 
Leave him not in the lurch ! 
For he has alreadj done 
Much to serye us. 
Faust, First to confront the beast, 
Use I the spell of the four : 

Salamander shall glow, 

ündine twine, 

Sylph vanish, 

Kobold be moving 
Who did not know 

The elements, 
Their power and properties, 

Were no master 

Over the spirits. 

Vanish in flame, 

Salamander ! 
Rushingly flow together, 

Undine ! 
Sinne in meteor beauty, 

Sylph ! 
Bring homely help, 
Incubus ! Incubus ! 
Step forth and make an end of it. 

No one of the four sticks in the beast. He lies 



paust's study. 39 

undiaturbed and grins at me. I have not yet made 
hini feel. Thou shalt hear me conjure stronger. 

Art thou, fellow, 

A scapeling from hell ! 

Then see this sign ! 

To which bend the dark troop. 

He is already swelling up with bristling hair. 

Reprobate ! 

Can'st thou read him ? — 

The unoriginated, 

Unpronounceable, 

Through all heaven diiftised, 

Vilely transpierced ? 

Driven behind the stove, it is swelling like an ele- 
phant ; it fills the whole space, it is about to vanish 
into mist. Rise not to the ceiling ! Down at thy 
master*s feet ! Thou see'st I do not threaten in vain. 
I will scorch thee with holy fire. Wait not for the 
thrice glowing light. Wait not for the strengest of 
my spells. 

[Mephistophdes (comea fonoard (u the mist sinkt, in ihe dreas 

I of a traveUing Scholar, from behmd a stove,) 

I 

Wherefore such a fuss ? What may be your plea- 
ßure ? 

FatLsU This, then, was the kerne! of the poodle ! 
A travelling scholar ? The casus makes me laugh. 

Mephistopheles. I salute yonr leamed worship. 
You have made me sweat with a vengeance. 

Faust. What is thy name ? 

Mephistopheles, The question strikes me as triiling 
for one who rates the Word so low ; who, far estranged 
from all mere outward seeming, looks only to the 
essence of things. 



40 paust's study. 

PatASt. With such gentlemen as jou, one maj 
generally learn tlie essence from the name, since it 
appears but too plainly, if your nanfie be fly-god, 
destroyer, liar. Now, in a word, who art thou tben ? 

Mephistopheles. A part of that power, which. is 
ever willing evil and ever producing good. 

Faust» What is meant by this riddle ? 

MephistopheUs, I am the spirit which constantly 
denies, and that rightly ; for everything that has 
originated, deserves to be annihilated. Therefore 
better were it that nothing should originate. Thus, 
all that you call sin, destruction, in a word, Evil, is 
my proper dement. 

Faust, You call yourself a part, and yet stand 
whole before me. 

MephistopheUs, I teil you the modest truth. Al- 
though man, that microcosm of folly,commonly esteems 
himself a whole, I am a part of the part, which in the 
beginning was all ; a part of the darkness which 
brought forth light, — the proud light, which now con- 
tests her ancient rank and space with mother night. 
But he succeeds not ; since, strive as he will, he 
cleaves, as if bound, to bodies. He streams from 
bodies, he gives beauty to bodies, a body stops him in 
bis course, and so, I hope, he will perish with bodies 
before long. 

Faust, Now I know thy dignified calling. Thou 
art not able to destroy on a great scale, and so art 
just beginning on a small one. 

Mephistopheles, And, to say truth, little progress 
has been made in it. That which is opposed to nothing 
— the something, this clumsy world, much as I have 
tried already, I have not yet leamt how to come at 
it, — with waves, storms, earthquakes, fire. Sea and 
land remain undisturbed after all ! And the damned 



faust's study. 41 

set, the brood of brutes and men, there is no Buch 
thlng as getting the better of them neither. How 
many I bare already buried ! And new fresh blood is 
constantly circulating ! Things go on so — it is enough 
to make one mad I From air, water, earth— in wet, 
dry, hot, cold — genns by thousands evolve themaelves. 
Had I not reserred fire, I should have nothing apart 
for myself. 

Fai^t. Sothouopposest thycold devü's £st, clenched 
iu impotent malice, to the ever stirring, the beneficent 
ereating power. Try thy band at something eise, 
wondrous son of Chaos. 

Mephistopheles, We will think about it in good 
eamest — more of tbat anon ! Might I be permitted 
this time to depart ? 

Faust, I See not why you ask. I have now made 
acquaintance with you ; call on me in future as you 
feel inclined. Here is the window, here the door ; 
there is also a chimney for you. 

Mephistopheles, To confess the truth, a small 
obstacle preyents me from Walking out — the wizard- 
foot upon your threshold. 

Faust. The Pentagram embarrasses you? Teil 
me then, thou child of hell, if tbat repels thee, how 
campst thou in ? How was such a spirit entrapped ? 

Mephistopheles» Mark it well ; it is not well drawn; 
one angle, the outward one, is, as thou see'st, a little 
open. 

Faust. It is a lucky accident. Thou shouldst be 
my prisoner then ? This is a chance hit. 

Mephistopheles. The poodle observed nothing when 
he jumped in. The thing looks differently now ; the 
devil cannot get out. 

Faust, But why do you not go through the 
window ? 



42 faüst's study. 

Mephistopheles, It is a law binding on devils and 
phantoms, that they must go out the same way they 
stole in. The first is free to us ; we are slaves as 
regards the second. 

Faust, Hell itself has its laws ? I am glad of 
it ; in that case a compact, a binding one, may be 
made with you gentlemen ? 

Mephistopheles, What is promised, that shalt thou 
enjoy to the letter ; not the smallest deduction shall 
be made from it. But this is not to be discussed so 
summarily, and we will speak of it the next time. But 
I most earnestly heg of you to let me go this once. 

Faust, Wait yet another moment, and teil me 
something worth telling. 

Mephistopheles. Let me go now ! I will soon 
come back ; you may then question me as } ou like. ] 

Fatbst, I have laid no snare for thee ; thou hast 
run into the net of thy own free will. Let whoever 
has got hold of the devil, keep hold of him ; he will 
not catch him a second time in a hurry. 

Mephistopheles. If you like, I am ready to stay 
and keep you Company here, but upon condition that 
I may beguile the time properly for you by my arts. 

Faust, I shall attend with pleasure ; you may do 
so, provided only that the art be an agreeable one. 

Mephistopheles. My friend, you will gain more for 
your senses in this one hour, than in the whole year's 
monotony. What the delicate spirits sing to you, the 
lovely imnges which they call up, are not an unsub- 
stantial play of enchantment. Your sraell will be 
charmed, you will then delight your palate, and then 
your feelings will be entranced, No preparation is 
necessary ; we are all assembled — strike up ! 



FAUST 's STUDY. 43 

SPIRITS. 

Vauish ye dark 
Apched ceilings above ! 
More charmingly look iii 
The friendly blue sky ! 
Were the dark clouds 
Melted away ! 
Little Stars sparkle. 
Softer SUDS shine in. 
Etherial beauty 
Of the childr'fen of heaven, 
Tremulous bending 

Hovers across ; 
Longing Wesire 

Follows after. 
And the fluttering 
Ribbons of drapery 
Cover the plains, 
Cover the bower, 
Where lovers, 
Deep in thought, 
Give themselves for life, 
Bower on bower ! 
Sprouting tendrils ! 
Down-weighing grapes 
Gush into the vat 
Of the hard-squeezing press. 
The foaming wines 
Gush in brooks, 
Rustle through 
Pure, precious stones, 
Leave the heights 
Behind them lying, 
Broaden to seas 



44 paust's study. 

Around the charm of 
Green-growing hüls. 
Ajid the winged throng 
Sips happiness. 
Flies to meet the sun, 
Flies to meet the bnght 
Isles, which dancingly 
Float on the waves ; 
Where we hear 
Shouting in choruses, 
Where we see 
Dancers on meads ; 
All in th' open air 
Disporting alike. 
Some are clambering 
Over the heights, 
Others are swimming 
Over the seas, 
Others are hovering — 
All towards the life, 
All towards the far away 
Loving Stars of 
Blisd-giving grace. 

Mephistopheles. He ßlumbers ! Well done, my 
airy, delicate youngsters ! Ye have fairly sung him 
to sleep. I am your debtor for this concert. Thou 
art not yet the man to hold fast the devil ! Play round 
him with sweet dreamy yisions ; plunge him in a sea 
of Illusion. But to break the spell of this threshold I 
need a rat 's tooth. I have not to conjure long ; one 
is already rustling hither, and will hear me in a 
moment. 

The lord of rats and mice, of flies, frogs, bugs'and 
lice, commands thee to venture forth and gnaw this 



faust's study. 45 

threshold so soon as he has Bmeared it with oil. Thou 
com 'st hopping forth already ! Instantly to the work ! 
The point which repelled me is towards the front on 
the ledge ; one hite more, and it is doue. — Now 
Faust, dream on, tili we meet again. 

Fattst {toctking). Am I then once again deceived ? 
Does the throng of spirits vanish thus ? Was it in a 
lying dream that the devO appeared to me, and was it 
a poodle that escaped ? 



46 



FAUST'S STUDY. 

Faust. — Mbpbistophblks. 

Paust. Does any one knock ? Gome in ! Who 
wants to disturb me again ? 

MephUtopheles, It is I* 

FaitsU Come in. 

Mephistopheles. You must say so tliree times. 

Faust* Come in, then ! 

Mephistopheles, So far, so good. We shall go 
on very well together, I hope ; for, to chase away 
your faneies, I am here, like a youth of condition, in 
a coat of scarlet laced with gold, a mantle of stiff silk, 
a cock's feather in my hat, and a long pointed sword 
at my aide. And to make no more words about it, 
my adyice to you is to array yourself in the same 
manner immediately, that unrestrained, emancipated» 
you may try what Hfe is. 

Faust, In every dress, I dare say, I shall feel the 
torture of the contracted lifo of this earth. I am too 
old to do nothing but play, too young to be without a 
wish. What can the world aflford me ! — ** Thou 
shalt renounce!** "Thou shalt renounce!" That 
is the etemal song which rings in eyery one 's ears ; 
which, OUT whole lifo long, every hour is hoarsely 
singing to us. In the morning I wake only to horror. 
I would fain weep bitter tears to see the day, which, 
in its course, will not accomplish a wish fbr me, no, 
not 6ne ; which, with wayward captiousness, weakens 
even the ^resentiment of every joy, and disturbs the 



FAUST *S STUDY. 47 

creation of my busy breast by a thousand ugly reali- 
ties. Then again, wben night comes round, I must 
Stretch myself in anguish on my bed ; here, too, no 
rest is youchsafed to me ; wild dreams are sure to 
harrow me up. The God, that dwells in my bosom, 
that can stir my inmost soul, that sways all my ener- 
gies — ^he is powerless as regards things without ; and 
thus existence is a load to me, death an object of 
eamest prayer, and life detestable. 

Mephist^heles. And yet death is never an en- 
tirely welcome guest. 

Faust. Oh ! happy the man around whose brqws 
he wreathes the bloody laurel in the glitter of victory 
— whom, after the maddening dance, he finds in a 
maiden^s arms. Oh that I had sunk away, enrapt, 
ezanimate, before the great spirit's power ! 

Mephistopheles. And yet a certain person did not 
drink a certain brown juice on a certain night. 

Fatist, Flaying the spy, it seems, is thy amuse- 
ment. 

Mephistopheles, I am not omniscient ; but I know 
much. 

Faust, Since a sweet familiär tone drew me from 
tbose thronging horrors, and played on what of child- 
like feeling remained in me with the concording note 
of happier times, — my curse on every thing that en- 
twines the soul with its jugglery, and spell-binds it in 
this den of wretchedness with blinding and flattering 
influences. Accursed, first, be the lofty opinion in 
vhich the mind wraps itself ! Accursed, the blinding 
of appearances, by which our senses are subdued ! 
Accursed, what plays the pretender to us in dreams, 
— the che^t of glory, of the lasting of a name ! Ac-, 
cursed, what fiatters us as property, as wife and child, 
ae slave and plough ! Accursed be Mammon when 



48 faüst's study. 

he stirs us to bold deeds with treasures, when he 
smooths our couch for indolent delight ! My curse 
on the balsam-juice of the grape ! My curse on that 
highest grace of love ! My curse on Hope, my ciu*se 
on Faith, and my curse, aboye all, on Patience ! 

CHORUS OF SPiRiTS (invisible), 

Woe, woe, 

Thou hast destroyed it, 

The beautiful world, 

With yiolent hand ; 

It tumbles, it falls abroad. 

A demigod has shattered it l^o pieces ! 

We bear away 

The wrecks into nothingness, 

And wail over 

The beauty that is lost. 

Mighty 

Among the sons of earth, 

Proudlier 

Build it again, 

Build it up in thy bosom ! 

A new career of life, 

With unstained sense 

Begin, 

And new lays 

Shall peal out thereupon. 

Mephistopheles» These are the little ones of my 
train. Listen, how, with wisdom heyond their years, 
they counsel you to pleasure and action. Out into 
the World, away from solitariness, where * senses and 
Juices stagnate — would they fain Iure you. 

Cease to trifle with your grief — whSch, like a vul- 
ture, feeds upou your vitals. The worst Company 



'h 






faüst's study* 49 

will make you feel that you are a man among men. 

Yet I do Dot mean to thrust you amongst the pack. 

I am none of your great men ; but if, united with 

me, you will wend your way throngh life, I will rea- , ^ 

dily accommodate myself to be yours upon the spot. // ^ 

I am your companion ; and, if it suits jou, your ser- j '[ \^ 

vant, your Blave ! ,-— j^.- «^ .^ 

F'aust. And what am I to do for you in retum ? 5^ * y^ r^"» 

Mephistopheles. For that you have still a long day ^ 
of grace. * 

Faust. No, no ; the deyil ifi an egoist, and is not 
likely to do, for God's sake, what is useful to another. 
Speak the condition plainly out ; such a servant is a 
dangerous inmate. 

Mephistopheles, I will bind myself to your Service 
here, and never sleep nor slumber at your call. When 
we nieet on the other side, you shall do as much for me. 

Faust. I care little about the other side : if you 
first knock this world to pieces, the other may arise 
afterwards if it will. My joys flow from this earth, 
and this sun shines upon my suiFerings : if I can only 
separate myself from them, what will and can, may 
come to pass. I will hear no more about it — whe- 
ther there be hating and loving in the world to come, 
and whether there be an Above or Below in those 
spheres too. 

Mephistopheles. In this mood, you may venture. 
Bind yourself ; and during these days, you shall be 
delighted by my arts ; I will give thee what no human 
being ever saw yet. 

Faust. What, poor devil, wilt thou give ? Was a 
man's mind, in its high aspiring, ever comprehended 
by the like of thee? But if thou hast food which 
satisfies not ; ruddy gold which, volatile, like quick- 
eilver, melts away in the band ; a game, at which 



50 PAÜ8T*S STUDY. 

one never wins ; a maiden, who, on my breast» is 
alreadj ogling my neighbour ; the bright godlike joy 
of honour, which vanishes like a meteor ! — Show me 
the fruit which rots before it is plucked, and trees 
which every day grow green anew* 

Mephistopheies, Such a task affrights me not. I 
have such treasures at my disposal. But, my good 
friend, the time will come round when we may feast 
on what is really good in peace, 

Faust, If ever I Stretch myself, calm and com- 
posed, upon a couch, be there at once an end of me. 
If thou canst ever flatteringly delude me into being 
pleased with myself — ^if thou canst cheat me with 
enjoyment, be that day my last. I offer the wager. 

Mephistopheies, Done ! 

Faust. And my band upon it ! If I ever say to 
the passing moment — ** Stay, thou art so fair ! *' then 
mayst thou cast me into chains ; then will I readily 
perish ; then may the death-bell toll ; then art thou 
free from thy Service. The clock may stand, the 
indez-hand may fall: be time a thing no more for 
me! 

Mephistopheies» Think well of it ; we shall bear 
it in mind. 

Faust, You have a perfect right so to do. I have 
formed no rash estimate of myself. As I drag on, l 
am a slave ; what care I, whether thine or another's. 

Mephistopheies, This very day, at the doctor*s feast, 
I shall enter upon my duty as servant. Only one 
thing — to guard against accidents, I must trouble you 
for a line or two. 

Faust, Pedant, dost thou, too, require writing? 
Hast thou never known man nor man's word ? Is it 
not enough that my word of mouth disposes of my 
days for all eternity ? Does not the world rave on in 



FAÜ8T*S STUDY. 51 

all its cnrrents, and am I to be bonnd bj a promise ? 
Yet this prejudice is implanted in oor hearts : who 
would willinglj free himiBelf from it ? Happj the 
man who bears tmth pure in bis breast ; be will 
never bare cause to repent any sacrifice! But a 
parcbment, written and stamped, is a spectre wbicb 
all sbrink from. Tbe word dies away in tbe yery 
pen ; in wax and leatber is tbe masterj. Wbat, eyü 
spirit, wouldst tbou of me ? Brass, marble, parcb- 
ment, paper ? Sball I write with style, graver, pen ? 
I leave tbe cboice to tbee. 

Mephigtopheles. How can you put yourself in a 
passion and oyerwork your rbetoric in tbis manner ? 
Any serap will do: you will subacribe your name 
witb a drop of blood. 

Faust, If tbis wiU fully satisfy you, tbe wbim sball 
be complied witb. 

MephUtopheles. Blood is quite a peculiar sort of 
Juice. 

Fatut. But fear not tbat I sball break tbis com- 
pact. Wbat I promise, is precisely wbat all my 
energies are striying for. I bave aspired too bigb : I 
belong only to tby class. Tbe Great Spirit bas spumed 
me ; Nature sbuts berself against me. Tbe tbread of 
thougbt is snapped ; I bave long loatbed every s(Ht of 
knowledge. Let us quencb our glowing passions in 
tbe deptbs of sensuality, ; let every wonder be fortb- 
witb prepared beneatb tbe (bitbertoj impervious veil 
of sorcery. Let us cast ourselves into tbe ruslung 
of time, into tbe rolling of accident. Tbere pain and 
pleasure, success and disappointment, may succeed 
each otber as tbey will — ^man's proper dement is rest- 
less activity. 

Mephistopheles. Nor end nor limit is prescribed to 
you, If it is your pleasure to sip tbe sweets of every 

s2 



52 faust's study. 

thing, to Bnatcb at all as you fly by, much good may 
it do you — only fall to and don't be coy. 

Faust. I teil thee again, pleasure is not the ques- 
tion : I devote myself to the intoxicating whirl ; — to 
tbe most agonizing enjoyment— to enamoured bäte — 
to animating yexation. My breast, cured of the tbirst 
of knowledge, sball hencefortb bare itself to every 
pang. I will enjoy in my own beart's core all tbat is 
parcelled out among mankind ; grapple in spirit witb 
tlie bigbest and deepest ; beap the weal and woe of 
the wbole race upon my breast, and thus dilate my 
own individuality to tbeirs, and perish also, in tbe 
end, like them. 

Mephistophdes, Ob, believe nie, wbo many thou- 
sand years bave cbewcd tbe cud on tbis bard food, 
tbat, irom tbe cradle to tbe hier, no human being 
digests tbe old leaven. Believe a being like me, tliis 
Whole is only made for a god. He ezists in an 
^terual balo ; us be has brought fortb into darkness ; 
and only day and night are j)roper for y<m, 

Faust But I will?/ -ST*^y-xy wUl ! 

Mephistopheles. Tbat is well enougb to say ! But 
I'am only troubled about one tbing ; time is sbort, 
art is long. I should suppose you would suffer your- 
self to be instructed. Take a poet to counsel ; make 
tbe gentleman set bis Imagination at work, and beap 
all noble qualities on your bonoured bead, — tbe lion's 
courage, tbe stag*s swiftness, tbe fiery blood of the 
Italian, tbe enduring firmness of tbe North. Make 
bim find out tbe secret of combining magnanimitj 
witb cunning, and of being in love, after a set plan, 
witb the burning desires of youth. I myself should 
like to know such a gentleman — I would call bim 
Mr. Microcosm. 

Faust. What, then, am I, if it be not possible to 



paust's study. 53 

attain the crown of humanity, which every sense is 
striving for ? 

Mepkistopheles, Thou art in the end — what thon 
art. Put on wigs with million of curls — set thy 
foot upon ell-high socks, — thou abidest ever what 
thou art. 

Faust I feel it ; in vain liave I scraped together 
aud accumulated all the treasures of the human mind 
upon myself ; and when I sit down at the end, still no 
new^ power wells up within : I am not a hair's breadth 
higher, nor a whit nearer the Infinite. 

Mephistopheles» My good Sir, you see things pre- 
cisely as they are ordinarily seen ; we must manage 
matters hetter, hefore the joys of life pass away from 
US. What the deuce ! you have surely hands and 

feet, and head and . And what I enjoy with spirit, 

is that then the less my own ? If I can pay for six 
horses, are not their powers mine ? I dash along and 
am a proper man, as if I had four-and-twenty legs. 
Quick, then, have done with ponng, and straight 
away into the woHd with me. I teil you, a fellow 
that speeulates is like a brüte driven in a circle on a 
harren heath by an evil spirit, whilst fair green mea- 
dow lies everywhere around. 

Faust. How shall we set about it ? 

Mephistopheles. We will just start and take our 
Chance. What a place of martyrdom ! what a precious 
life to lead ! — wearying one's seif and a set of young- 
ßters to death. Leave that to your neighbour, Mr. 
Paunch ! Why will you plague yourself to thrash 
straw ? The best that you can know, you dare not 
teil the lads. Even now I hear one in the passage. 

Faust, I cannot possibly see him. 

Mephistopheles. The poor boy has waited long ; he 
must not be sent away disconsolate. Come, give me 



54 8CENE WITH THE STUDENT. 

your cap and gown : the mask will become me to 

admiration. [-ff« changea hi» dreu. 

Now trußt to my wit. I require but a quarter of an 

hour. In the mean time prepare for our pleasant trip. 

[Exü Faust. 

Mephistopheles in Faüst's goum, 

Onlj despise reason and knowledge, the highest 
strength of humanitj ; onlj permit thjself to be con- 
firmed in delusion and sorcery-work by the spirit of 
lies, — and I have thee unconditionally. Fate has given 
him a spirit which is ever pressing onwards uncurbed, 
— whose overstrained striving o*erleaps the joys of 
earth. Him will I drag through the wild passages of 
lifo, though yapid unmeaningness. He shall sprawl, 
stand amazed, stick fast, — and meat and drink shall 
hang, for bis insatiableness, before bis craving lips : 
he shall pray for refreshment in yain ; and had he not 
already given himself up to the devil, he would, not^ 
withstanding, inevitably be lost. {ä Student enten, 

Studemt. I am but just arriyed, and come,' füll 
of devotion, to pay my respects to, and make ac* 
quaintance with, a man whom all name to me with 
reverence. 

MephisUypheles, I am flattered by your politeness. 
You see a man, like many others. Have you yet made 
any inquiry elsewhere? 

Student^ Interest yourself for me, I pray you. I 
come with every good disposition, a little money, and 
youthfiil spirits; mymother could hardlybe broughtto 
part with me, but I would fain leam something worth 
leaming in the world. 

Mephistopheles. You are here at the very place 
for it. 



SCENE WITH THE STUDENT. 55 

Student, Honostlj speaking, I alreadj wish mjself 
away. These walls» these halls, are bj no means to 
mj taste. The space is exceedinglj confined ; there 
is not a tree, nothing green, to be seen ; and in the 
lecture-rooms, on the benches, — ^hearing, sight, and 
thinking fail me. 

Mephistopheles, It all depends on habit. Thus, at 
first, the child does not take kindlj to the mother's 
breast, but soon finds a pleasure in nounshing itself. 
Just so will jou dailj experience a greater pleasure at 
the breasts of wisdom. 

Stvdent, I shall hang delightedlj upon her neck : 
do but teil me how I am to attain it. 

Mephistopheles, Teil me before you go further, 
what faculty you ^x. upon ? 

Student, I should wish to be profoundly learned, 
and should like to comprehend what is upon earth or 
in heaven^ science and nature* 

Mephistopheles. You are here upon the right scent; 
but you must not suffer your attention to be distracted. 

Student, I am heart and soul in the cause. A 
little relaxation and pastime, to be sure, would not 
Gome amiss on bright summer holidays. 

Mephistopheles, Make the most of time, it glides 
away so fast. But method teaches you to gaiu time. 
For this reason, my good friend, I advise you to begin 
with a course of logic. In this study, the mind is well 
broken in, — ^laced up in Spanish boots, so that it creeps 
circumspectly along the path of thought, and runs no 
risk of flickering, ignis-fatuus-like, in all directions. 
Then many a day wül be spent in teaching you that 
one, two, three — is necessary for that which formerly 
you hit off at a blow, as easily as eating and drinking. 
It is with the fabric of thought as with a weaver's 
master-piece ; where one treadle moves a thousand 



56 SCENE WITH THE STUDENT. 

threads : the Shuttles shoot backwards and forwards : 
the threads flow unseen : ties, by thousands, are Struck 
off at a blow. Your philosopher, — he Steps in and 
proves to you, it must have been so : the first would 
be so, the second so, and therefore the third and 
fourth so ; and if the first and second were not, the 
third and fourth would never be. The students of all 
countries put a high value on this, but none have be- 
come weavers. He who wishes to know and describe 
anything living, seeks first to drive the spirit out of 
it; he has then the parts in his band; only, unluckily» 
the Spiritual bond is wanting. Chemistry terms it en- 
cheiresis naturce, and mocks herseif without knowingiti 

Student. I cannot quite comprehend you. 

MephistopJieles, You will soon improve in that 
respect, if you leam to reduce and classify all things 
properly. 

Student. I am so confoimded by all this, I feel as 
if a mill-wheel was tuming round in my head. 

Mephistopheles* In the next place, before every- 
thing eise, you must set to at metaphysics. There see 
that you conceive profoundly what is not made for 
hmnan brains. A fine word will stand you in stead 
for what enters and what does not enter there. And 
be sure, for this half-year, to adopt the strictest regu- 
larity. You will have five lectures every day. Be in 
as the clock strikes. Be well prepared beforehand with 
the paragraphs carefully conned, that you may see the 
better that he says nothing but what is in the book ; 
yet write away as zealously as if the Holy Ghost were 
dictating to you. 

Student, You need not teil me that a second time. 
I can imagine how useful it is. For what one has in 
black and white, one can carry home in comfort. 

Mephistopheles, But choose a faculty. 



SCBNE WITH THE STÜUENT. 57 

Student, Icannotreconcilemyselfto jurisprudence. 

Mephütopheles, I caunot much blame you. I know 
the naj;ure of this science. Laws descend, like an 
inveterate hereditary disease ; they trail from genera- 
tion to generation, and glide iniperceptibly from place 
to place. Reason becomes nonsense ; beneficence, 
calamity. Woe to thee tbat thou art a grandson ! Of 
the law tbat is born with us— of tbat, unfortunately, 
there is never a question. 

Student. You increase my repugnance. Ob, happy 
be, whom you instruct. I sbould almost like to study 
theology. 

Mephistopheles. I do not wish to mislead you. As 
für tbis science, it is so difficult to avoid tbe wrong 
way ; tbere is so mucb bidden poison in it, wbicb is 
bardly to be distinguisbed from tbe medicine. Here, 
again, it is best to attend but one master, and swear 
by bis words. Generally speaking, stick to words ; you 
will tben pass tbrougb tbe safe gate into tbe temple 
of certainty. 

Sttident. But tbere must be some meaning con- 
nected with tbe Word. 

Mephistopheles. Rigbt ! only we must not be too 
anxious about tbat ; for it is precisely wbere meaning 
falls that a word comes in most opportunely. Disputes 
may be admirably carried on witb words ; a system 
may be built witb words ; words form a capital subject 
for belief ; a word admits not of an iota being taken 
from it. 

Student. Your pardon, I detain you by my many 
questions, but I must still trouble you. Would you be 
so kind as to add a pregnant word or two on medicine. 
Tbree years is a sbort time, and tbe field, God knows, 
is far too wide. If one bas but a bint, one can feel 
one's way along furtber. 



5S SCENE WITH THE STÜDEÜTT. 

Mephisiiopheles (aside), I begin to be tired of the 
prosing style. I must play the devil true to character 
again. lÄloud* 

The spirit of medicine is easy to be caught ; you 
study through the great and little world, and let things 
go on in the end — as it pleases God. It is vain that 
you wander scientifically about ; no man will leam 
more than he can ; he who avails himself of thefpass- 
ingjmoment — that is the proper man. You are tole- 
rably well built, nor will you be wanting in boldness, 
and if you do but confide in yourself, other souls will 
confide in you. In particular, learn how to treat the 
women : their etemal ohs ! and ahs ! so thousand- 
fold, are to be cured from asmglenoint, and if you 
only assume a moderately aeSiure^r, you will have 
them all under your thumb. You must have a title, 
to convince them that your art is superior to most 
others, and then you are admitted from the first to all 
those little privileges which another spends years in 
coaxing for. Leam how to feel the pulse adroitly, 
and boldly clasp them, with bot wanton looks, aroimd 
the tapering hip, to see how tightly it is laced. 

Student. There is some sense in that ; one sees at 
any rate the where and the how. 

Mephistopheles. Grey, my dear friend, is all theory, 
andgreenthe golden tree oflife. 

Student, I vow to you, all is as a dream to me. 
Might I trouble you another time to hear your wisdom 
epeak upon the grounds. 

Mephistopheles, I am at your service, to the extent 
of my poor abilities. 

Student. I cannot possibly go away without plac- 
ing my album in your hands. Do not grudge me this 
token of your favour. 



SCENE WITH THE STUDENT. 59 

Mephistopheles, With all my heart. 

Iffe wrües and gives U hack, 

Student (reads), Eritis sicut Deus, scientes bonum 
et malum. 

[ffe dotes the hoch reverentiaUyf and taJeea his leave. 

Mephistopheles, Onlj follow the old saying and my 
coasin the snake, and some time or other you, with 
your likeness to God, will be sony enough. 

Faust (enters), Whither now ? 

Mephistopheles, Where you please ; to see the 
little, then the great world. With what joy, what 
profit, will you revel through the course ! 

Faust, But with my long beard, I want the easy 
manners of society. I shall fail in the attempt. I 
never knew how to present myself in the world ; I 
feel so little in the presence of others. I shall be in 
a constant State of embarrassment. 

Mephistopheles, My dear friend, all that will come 
of its own accord ; so soon as you feel confidence in 
yourself, you know the art of lifo. 

Faust, How, then, are we to start ? Where are 
your carriages, horses, and servants. 

Mephistopheles, We have but to spread out this. 
mantle ; that shall bear us through the air. Only 
you will take no heavy baggage on this hold trip. A 
little inflammable air, which 1 will get ready, will lift 
US quiekly from this earth ; and if we are light, we 
shall mount rapidly. I wish you joy of your new course 
of Ufe. 



60 



AUERBACH'S CELLAR IN LEIPZIG. 

(JOtrivkiiig howt ofmerry Fellowa.) 

Frosch, Will no one drink ? no one laugh ? I will 
teach you to grin. Why, you are like wet straw to- 
day, yet at other times you blaze brigbtly enough. 

Brander, That is your fault ; you contribute 
notbing towards it : no nonsense, no beastliness — 

Frosch {throws a glass of wine over Brander s 
head), Tbere are botb for you ! 

Brander, You double bog ! 

Frosch, Why, you wanted me to be so. 

Siehel, Out with bim wbo quarreis ! With open 
heart strike up the song ! swill and sbout ! bolla, 
holla, bo ! 

Altmayer. Woe is me ! I am a lost man. Cotton, 
bere ! tbe knave splits my ears. 

Siehel, It is only wben tbe vault ecboes again, tbat 
one feels tbe true power of tbe bass. 

Frosch, Rigbt ; out witb bim wbo takes anytbing 
amiss. A ! taralara, da ! 

Altmayer, A ! taralara ! 

Frosch. Out tbroats are tuned. [Be sings. 

** Tbe dear, boly Romish empire, how holds it still 
togetber ? *' 

Brander. A nasty song I psba, a political song ! 
an offensive song ! Tbank God every moming of 
your lifo, tbat you have not tbe Romisb empire to 
care for. I, at least, esteem it no sligbt gain tbat I 



CELLAH in LEIPZIG. 61 

am not emperor nor chancellor. But we cannot do 
without a head. We will choose a pope. You know 
what Bort of qualification turns the scale, and elevates 
the man. 

Frosch (sings). Soar up, Madam Nightingale, give 
my sweetheart ten thousand greetings for me. 

Siehel, No greeting to the sweeQieart ; I vrill not 
hear of it. 

Frosch. Greeting to the sweetheart, and a kias too ! 
Thou ehalt not hinder me. {He lings. 

Open bolts ! in stilly night. 
Open boltß ! the lover wakes. 
Shut bolts ! at moming's dawn. 

Siehel. Aje, sing, sing on, and praise and cele- 
brate her ; my turn for laughing will come. She has 
taken me in ; she will do the same for jou. May she 
liave a hobgoblin for a lover I He may toy with her 
on a cross way. An old he-goat, on his retum from 
the Blocksberg, may wicker good night to her on the 
gallop; A hearty fellow of genuine flesh and blood 
is far too good for the wench. I will hear of no greet- 
ing, unless it be to smash her Windows. 

Brander (striking on the table.) Attend, attend; 

listen to me ! You gentlemen must allow me to know 

something of lifo. Love-sick folks sit here, and I 

must give them something suitable to their condition 

by way of good night. Attend ! a song of the newest 

cut ! and strike boldly in with the chorus. 

{ffe sings, 

*< There was a rat in the cellar, who lived on nothing 
but fat and butter, and had raised himself up a paunch 
fit for Doctor Luther himself. The cook had laid 
poison for him ; then the world became too bot for 
him, as if he had love in his body. 

Chorus. "As if he had love in his body." 



62 CELLAR IN LEIPZIG. 

** He ran round, he ran out, he drank of every pad- 
dle ; he gnawed and scratched the whole house, but 
his fiirj availed nothing ; he gave many a bound öf 
agony ; the poor beast was soon done for, as if he had 
love in his body. 

Chorus. "Asif," &c. 

** He came runninginto the kitchen, for sheer pain, 
in open daylight, feil on the earth and lay convulsed, 
and panted pitiably. Then the poisoner exclaimed, 
with a laugh — Ha ! he is at his last gasp, as if he 
had love in his body." 

Chorus. " As if," &c. 

Siehel. How the flats chuckle ! It is a fine thing, 
to be sure, to lay poison for the poor rats. 

Brander. They stand high in your favour, I dare 
say. 

Altmayer. The bald-pated paunch! The misad- 
venture makes him humble and mild. He sees in the 
swoUen rat his own image drawn to the life. 

Faust and Mefhistopheles. 

Mephistopheles. Before all things eise, I must bring 
you into merry Company, that you may see how lighUy 
life may be passed. These people make every day a 
feast. With little wit and much self-complacency, 
each tums round in the narrow circle-dance, like 
kittens playing with their tails. So long as they 
have no headache to complain of, and so long as they 
can get credit from their host, they are merry and 
free &om care. 

Brander. They are just off a joumey ; one may 
see as much from their stränge manner. They have 
not been here an hour. 

Frosch. Thou art right ; Leipsic is the place for 
me : it is a little Paris, and gives its folks a finish. 



CELLAR IK LEIPZIG. 63 

Siehel, What do you take tHe strangers to be ? 

Frosch. Lct me alone ; in the drinking of a 
bumper I will worm it out of them as easilj as draw 
a child's tooth. Thej appear to me to be noble ; 
thej have a proud and discontented look. 

Brander, Mountebanks to a certaintj, I wager. 

ÄUmayer. Likelj enough. 

Frosch. Now mark ; I will smoke them. 

Mephistopheles to Faust. These people would never 
sceot the devU, if he had them bj the throat. 

Faust. Good morrow^ gentlemen. 

Siebet. Thanks, and good morrow to you, 

[Aaide, loohing cU Mephistophelbb cukcmce. 

Why does the fellow halt on one foot ? 

Mephistopheles. Will you permit us to sit down 
with you. We shaU have Company to cheer us instead 
of good liquor, which is not to be had. 

Ältmayer, You seem a very dainty gentleman. 

Frosch. I dare say you are lately from Rippach ? 
Did you sup with Mr. Hans before you left ? 

Mephistopheles. We passed him without stopping 
to-day. The last time we spoke to him, he had much 
to say of his cousins ; he charged us with compliments 
to each. [ With cm iiwlincxtion Umcvrds Frosch. 

Altmayer {aside}. Thou hast it there ! he knows a 
thing or two. 

Siehel. A knowing fellow ! 

Frosch. Only wait, I shall have him presently. 

Mephistopheles. If I am not mistaken, we heard 
some practised voices singing in chorus ? No doubt 
singing raust echo admirably from this vaulted roof. 

Frosch. I dare say you are a dilettante. 

Mephistopheles. Oh, no ! The power is weal^, but 
the desire is streng. 



64 CELLAR IN LEIPZIG. 

Altmayer, Give üb a song. 
Mephistopkeles. As many as you like. 
Siehel. Only let it be bran new. 
Mephistopheles. We are just returned from Spain, 
tbe fair land of wine and song. ^ i^^ «"fl»« 

" There was once upon a time a king who had a 

great flea " — 

Frosch, Hark ! A flea ! Did you catch that ? A 
flea is a fine sort of chap. 

MepMstopheles (sings), ** There was once upon a 
time a king ; he had a great flea, and was as fond of 
it as if it had been bis own son. Then he called hiß 
tailor ; tbe tailor came. * There, measure the young- 
ster for clothes, and measure bim for breeches.* '* 

Brander. Only don*t forget to impress it on the 
tailor to measure with the greatest nicety, and, as he 
loves bis head, to make the breeches sit smoothly. 

Mephistopheles {sings), "He was now attired in 
velvet and silk, had ribbons on bis coat, had a cross 
besides, and was fortbwith made minister, and had a 
great star. Then bis brothers and sisters also became 
great folks. And the ladies and gentlemen at court 
were dreadfuUy tormented ; from the queen to the wait- 
ing-woman they were pricked and bitten, yet dared 
not crack nor Scratch them away. But we crack and 
stifle fast enough when one pricks. 

Chorus, "But we crack,'* &c. 

Frosch, Bravo ! bravo ! That was capital. 

Siehe!, So perish every flea. 

Brander, Point your fingers, and nick them cle- 

verly. 

AUmayer. Liberty for ever ! Wine for ever ! 

Mephistopheles, I would willingly drink a glass in 
honour of liberty, were your wine a tbought better. 

Siehel, You had better not let us hear that again ! 



CELLAR IN LEIPZIG. 65 

Mephistopheles, I am afraid the landlord would feel 
hurt, or I would treat these worthj gentlemen out of 
cur own stock. 

Siebel, 0, bring it in ; I take the blame upon 
myself. 

Frosch. Give us a good glass, and we shall not be 
sparing of our praise ; only don't let yoiir samples be 
too small ; for if I am to give an opinion, I require a 
regulär mouthful. 

Altmayer (aside). They are from the Rhine, Iguess. 

Mephistopheles, Bring a gimlet. 

Brander. What for? You surely have not the 
casks at the door ? 

Altmayer, Behind there, is a tool-chest of the 
landlord* s. 

Mephistopheles (tahing the gimlet, to Frosch). Now 
say, what wine would you wish to taste ? 

Frosch. What do you mean ? Hare you so many 
Borts ? 

Mephistopheles. I give every man his choice. 

AUmayer {to Frosch). Ah ! you begin to lick your 
lips already. 

Frosch, WeU! if I am to choose, I will take 
Rhine wine. Our father-land affords the very best of 
gifts. 

Mephistopheles {boring a hole in the edge of the 
table where Frosch is sitting). Get a little wax to 
make Stoppers immediately. 

Altmayer, Ah ! these are jugglers' tricks. 

Mephistopheles {to Brander). And you ? 

Brander, I choose Champagne, and let it be right 
sparkling. 

[Mrphistophelbs bores ; one of Üie others hos in tlie 
ntecm time prepared the waxstoppers cmd stopped 
ihefiolea. 
One cannot always avoid what is foreign ; what is 

p 



66 CELLAR IN LEIPZIG. 

good often lies so far off. A true Gerraan cannot 
abide Frenchmen, but -willingly drinks their wines. 

Siebel {a$ Mephistopheles approaches him). I must 
own I do not like acid wine ; give me a glass of 
genuine sweet. 

Mephistopheles {bores). You shall have Tokay in 
a twinkling. 

Allmayer, No, gentlemen ; look me in the face. 
I See plainly you are only making fun of us. 

Mephistopheles, Ha ! ha ! that would be taking 
too great a liberty with such distinguisbed guests. 
Quick ! only speak out at once. What wine can I 
have the pleasure of serving you with ? 

Altmayer t With any ! only don't lose time in 
asking. [After all the holes are bored and stopped, 

Mephistopheles {with stränge gestv/res), 
The vine bears grapes. 
The he-goat bears horns. 
Wine is juicy, vines are wood ; 
The wooden table can also give wine. 
A deep glance into nature ! 
Behold a miracle, only have faith ; 
Now draw the Stoppers and be merry. 

All [as they draw the stoppers, and the wine he 
chose runs into each man*s glass). Oh ! beautiful 
spring, that flows for us ! 

Mephistopheles, Only take care not to spill any 
of it. \,They drink repeatedly, 

AH {sing). 

We are as happy as cannibals, 

As five hundred swine. 
Mephistopheles, These people are now in their 
glory ; mark how merry they are. 
Faust. I should like to be off now. 



CELLAS IN LEIPZIG. 67 

Mephi^opheles, But first attend ; their brutish- 
ness will display itself right gloriouslj. 

Siehel (drinks cardessly ; the wine is spiU upon 
the ground, and tums to flame). Help ! fire ! help ! 
Hell is burning. 

MephistopJteles {conjuring the flame). Be quiet, 
friendlj element. ( To Siebel.) Tlus time it was onlj 
a drop of the fire of purgatory. 

Siebel. Wbat tnay that be ? Hold ! you shall pay 
dearly for it. It seems that you do not know us. 

Frosch, He had better not try tbat a second time. 

ÄUmayer, I think wc had better send him pack- 
ing quietly. 

Siehel, What, Sir, dare you play off your hocus- 
poous here ? 

Mephistopheles. Silence, old wine-butt. 

Siebel. Broomstick ! will you be rüde to us too ? 

Brander. But hold ! or blows shall rain. 

ÄUmayer {draws a stopper from the table ; ßre 
flies out against him), I burn ! I burn ! 

Siebel, Sorcery ; thrust home ! the knave is fair 
game. [^^^ draw Üieir hnives amdfaU upon Mbphisitophblbs. 

Mephistopheles {unth solemn gestures). 
False form and word, 
Change sense and place. 
. Be here, be the"re ! 

IThey stand amazed omd gaee on eacfi other, 

Altmayer. Where am I ? What a beautiful country ! 
Frosch, Vineyards ! Can I believe my eyes ? 
Siebel. And grapes close at band ! 
Brander. Here, under these green leaves, see, 
what a stem I see what a bimch ! 

[He i&aea Siebel hy the noae, The othen do ihe tarnt 
one ioith ihe other, and hramdith their hnivet. 

Mephistopheles {as before). Error, loose the band« 

f2 



68 CELLAB IN LEIPZIG. 

age from their eyes ! And do ye remember the 

devil's mode of jesting ! 

IHe disappean wüh Faust. l%e feUow9 Hart hack 
from one another. 

Siebel. What's the matter ? 

Altmayer. How? 

Frosch, Was that thy nose ? 

Brander (to Siebel). And I hare thine in my band ! 

Ältmayer, It was a sbock wbicb tbrilled tbrough 
every limb ! Give me a cbair, I am sinking. 

Frosch. No, do but teil me ; wbat has bappened ? 

Siebel. Where is the fellow ? If 1 meet witb bim, 
it sball be as mucb as bis life is worth. 

Altmayer. I myself saw bim at tbe cellar door» 
riding out upon a cask. My feet feel as beavy as lead. 

[Ttuming Unoards the table. 

My ! I wonder wbetber tbe wine is running still ? 

Siebel. It was all a cbeat, a lie, and a make- 
believe. 

Frosch. Yet it seemed to me as if I was drinking 
wine. 

Brander. But bow was it witb tbe grapes ? 

Altmayer. Let any one teil me after that, that 
one is not to belieye in wonders J 



69 



WITCH'S KITCHEN. 

A lan/e eauidron is hanging over the fire on a low keai'th. 
Different ßgures are seen in the fumea which rise from it, 
Ä Female Morikey is sitting by the coMldron and skimming it, 
and tahing care thai it does not rwn over. The Male Monkey 
i» seated near witk the young wieSy and warming himsdf. 
The Walls and ceUing are hwng toith the strängest oHides of 
Witxh fwmitwre. 

Faust, I loathe this mad concern of witchcraft. 
Do you promise me that I sliall recover in this chaos 
of insanity. Do I need an old hag's advice? And 
will this mess of cookery really take thirty yeara from 
my body ? Woe is me, if you know of nothing better ! 
Hope is already gone. Has nature and has a noble 
sphit discovered no sort of baisam ? 

Mephistopheles. My friend, now again you speak 
wisely ! There is also a natural mode of renewingyouth. 
But it is in another book, and is a stränge chapter. 

Fßust. Let me know it. 

Mephistopheles. Well! to have a mean without 
money, physician, or sorcery : betake thyself straight- 
way to the field, begin to- hack and dig, confine thyself 
and thy sense within a thoroughly contracted circle ; 
Support thyself on simple food; live with beasts as a 
beast, and think it no robbery to manure the land you 
crop. That is the best waj, believe me, to keep you 
young to eighty. 

Faust, I am not used to it. I cannot bring my- 
self to take the spade in hand. The confined life does 
not suit me at all. 

Mephistopheles. Then you must have recourse to 
the witch after all. 



70 witch's kitchen. 

Faust But why the old woman in particular ? 
Cannot you brew the drink yourself ? 

Mephistopheles, That were aprettj pastime ! I would 
rather build a thousand bridges in the time. Not art 
and science onlj, but patience is required for the job. 
A quiet spirit is busy at it for years ; time only makes 
this fine fermented liquor streng. And the ingredients 
are exceedingly curious. The devil, it is true» has 
taught it her, but the deyil cannot make it. (Perceiving 
the MoNKETs). See what a pretty breed! That is the 
lass — ^that the lad. ( To the Monkeys). It seems 
your mistress is not at home ? 

The Monkeys, 
At the feast. 
Out of the house, 
Out and away by the chimney-stone. 

Mephistopheles, How long does she usually rake t 

Hie Monkeys, Whilst we are warming our paws. 

Mephistopheles {to Faust). What think you of the 
pretty creatures? * 

Faust, The most disgusting I erer saw. 

Mephistopheles, Nay, a discourse like the present 
is precisely what I am fondest of engaging in. ( Te 
the MoNKETs). Teil me, accursed whelps, what are ye 
stining up with the porridge ? ~ 

Monkeys. We are cooking coarse beggars' broth. *- 

Mephistopheles» You will have^enty of customers. 

The He Monkey (approaches and fatßns an Mephis- 
topheles). 

quick' throw the dice, 
And make me rich^ 
And let me win ! 

My fate is a sorry one. 
And had I money 

1 should not want for consideration. 



witch's kitchen. 71 

Mephistopheles. How liappy the monkey would 
tliink himself, if he could only put into the lottery. 

[The Toung Monkeys have, in tAe mean time, heen 
playmg mth a Uvrge globe, and roll it forwards, 

The He Monkey, 

That is the world ; 
It rises and falls, 
And roUs unceasingly. 
It rings like glass : 
How soon hreaks that? 
It is hoUow within ; 
It glitters much here, 
And still more here — 
I am alive I 
My dear son, 
Keep thee aloof ; 
Thou must die ! 
It is of clay, 
This makes potsherds. 

Mephistopheles* What is the sieve for ? 
The He Monkey (takea itdown). Wert thou a thief, 
I should know thee at once. 

[He runs to ihe female and makes her looh ihrougK 
Look through the sieve ! 
Dost thou recognise the thief ? 
And darest not name him ? 
Mephistopheles (approaching the ßre). And this pot ? 
The Monkeys, 

The half-witted sot! 
He knows not the pot ! 
He knows not the kettle! 
Mephistopheles, Uncivil brüte ! 
The He Monkey, Take the hrush here, and sit 
cLown on the settle. [^^ makes Mephistopheles sit down, 
Faust {icho all this time has heen standing hefore a 



72 witch's kitchen. 

hohing-glasSy now approachin^ and now standing off 
from it), What do 1 see ? What a heavenly Image 
shows itself in this magic mirror ! Love ! lend me 
the swiftest of thy wings, and bear me to her region ! 
Ah ! when I do not remain uponthis spot, when I ven- 
ture to go near, I can only see her as in a mist. The 
loveliest image of a womani Is it possible, is woman so 
lovely ? MuBt I see in these recumbent limbs the 
innermost essence of all Heavens? Is there any- 
thing like it upon earth ? 

Mephistopheles* When {t God first works hard for 
six days, and himself says bravo at the end, it is but 
natural that something clever should come of it. For 
this time look your fill. I know where to find out such 
a love for you, and happy he whose fortune it is to 
bear her home as a bridegroom. 

[Faust contimtea looJdng into the mirror. Mephisto- 
PHELEs, stretchmg himself on the settle cmd playivg 
with ^ brush, continuea apedking. 

Here I sit, like the king upon his throne; here is 
my sceptre — I only want the crown. 

The Monkeys (who have hitherto heen playing aä 
sorts qf Strange antics, bring MEPmsTOPHELES a crown, 
with loud acclamations). Ob, be so good as to glue 
the crown with sweat and blood. 

[They handle the crovm aiohwardlp, cund break it into 
two piecen, vnth whieh they jump about. 

Now it is done. 
We speak and see ; 
We hear and rhyme- 



Faust (hefore the mirror), Woe is me ! I am be- 
coming almost mad I 

Afephistopheles (pointing to the Monkeys). My own 
head begins to totter now. 



witch's kitchen. 73 

The Monkeys, 

— And if we are lucky — 
And if things fit, 
Then there afe thoughts. 
Fatisi (as hefore). My breast is beginning to burn. 
Do but let US begone immediately. 

Mephistqpheles (in the same posüion). Well, noone 

can deny, at any rate, that they are sincere poets. 

ITke catUdnm, which the She Monkey Jias neglected, hegins 

to boil over ; a greatflame ariseSf lehick streama up ilte 

chimney, The Witch comms ihooting down througk 

ikeflaine wi^ horriJbU eries. 

The Witch. 

Ough, ough, ough, ough ! 

Damned beast ! Accursed sow ! 

Neglecting the cauldron, scorching your dame — 

Cursed beast ! 

[Espying Faust cmd Mepbistopheles. 

What now ? 
Who are ye ? 
What would ye here ? 
Who hath come slinking in ? 
The plague of fire 
Into your bonos ! 
{She dips the aJdmming ladle into (he cavldron^ and 
sprinkles flames at Faust, Mephistophelrs, and 
ihe MoNKETB. The Monkeys whimper. 

Mephistopheies {who inverts the brush which he holds 
in his hand, and strihes amongst the glasses and pots), 

To pieces ! 

To pieces ! 

There lies the porridge ! 

There lies the glass ! 

It is only carrying on the jest — beating time, thou 

Carrion, to thy melody. 

[As ihe Witch «tepi back in rage and amazement. 



74 WITCH*8 KITGHEN. 

Dost thou know me, tbou atomj, thou scarecrow ? 
Dost thou know thj lord and master? What is 
there to hinder me from striking in good earnest, 
from dashing thee and thy mbnkej-spirits to pieces ? 
Hast thou no more any respect for the red doublet ? 
Canst thou not distinguish the cock^s feather ? Have 
1 concealed this face ? Must I then name myself ? 

The Witch, master, pardon this rough recep- 
tion. But I See no cloTen foot. Where then are 
your two ravens ? 

Mephistopheles. This once, the apology may serve. 
For, to be sure, it is some while since we saw each 
other. The march of intellect too, which licks all the 
World into shape, has even reached the devil. The 
northern phantom is now no more to be seen. Where do 
you see horns, tail, and claws ? And as for the foot, 
which I cannot do without, it would prejudice me in 
Society ; therefore, like many a gallant, I haye wom 
false calves these many years. 

The Witch {dancing). I am almost beside myself, 
to see the gallant Satan here again. 

Mephistopheles. The name, woman, I beg to be 
spared. 

Tlie Witch, Wherefore ? What has it done to you ? 

\ Mephistopheles, It has been long written in story 

' books ; but men are not the better for that ; they are 

rid of the wicked one, the wicked haye remained. Tou 

may call me Baron, that will do very well. I am a 

cavalier, like other cavaliers. You doubt not of my 

gentle blood ; see here, this is the coat of arms I bear ! 

Iffe makes an wueemly getture, 

The Witch {laughs immoderatdy). Ha, ha ! That 
is in your way. You are the same mad wag as eyer. 

Mephistopheles {to Faust). My friend, attend to 
this. This is the way to deal wiUi witches« 



witch's kitchen. 75 

The Witch. Now, sirs, say what you are for. 

Mephistopheles, A good glass of the juice you wot 
of. I raust heg you to let it be of the oldest. Years 
double its power. 

The Witch, Most willingly. Here is a bottle out of 
which I sometimes sip a little myself ; which, besides, 
no longer stinks the least. I will give you a glass 
with pleasure. {Aside), But if this man drinks it 
imprepared, you well know he cannot live an hour. 

Mephistopheles, He is a worthy friend of mine, on 
whom it will have a good effect. I grudge him not 
the best of thy kitchen. Draw thy circle, spell thy 
spells, and give him a cup füll. 

{The WncBfVnth stränge gesturesy drawa a circle and places 
rare thinga in it ; in the mean time^ tfie glasses hegin 
to ring, and the cavldron to sownd, <md maJce mnsic, 
Lastly, ^ hrings a great hook, and places the Mon- 
KEY8 in the circle^ who are made to serve her for a 
reading desh a/nd hold ihe torcJies, She signs to Faust 
to approach, 

Faust {to Mephistopheles). But teil me what is to 
come of all this ? This absurd apparatus, these frantic 
gestures, this mostdisgusting jugglery — I know them 
of old and thoroughly abominate them. 

Mephistopheles. Pooh ! that is only fit to laugh at. 
Don't be so fastidious. As mediciner she is obliged 
to play off some hocus-pocus, that the dose may ope- 
rate well on you. [Hermakes Faust enter the circle, 

The Witch {with a strong emphasis^ hegins to declaim 
from the book), 

You must understand, 
Of one make ten. 
And let two go, 
And three make even ; 
Then art thou rieh. 
Lose the four. 



7ß witch's kitchen. 

Out of five and six, 
So says the Witch, 
Make seven and eight, 
Then it is done. 
And nine is one» 
And ten is none. 

That is the wit<?Le8 one-times-one. 
FausU It seems to me that the hag is raving. 
Mepkistopheles. There is a good deal more of it yet 
— I know it well ; the whole book is to the same tune. 
I have wasted many an hour upon it, for a downright 
contradiction remains equally mysterious to wise folks 
and fools. My friend, the art is old and new. It has 
ever been the fashion to spread error instead of truth 
7. ^by three and one, and o»e and three. It is taught 
v«4**^ ^°^ prattled uninte^^uptedR^Ji Who will concern them- 

//<i .^J^x^ selves about dolts ? Men are wont to believe, when 
' ^*T» '^ l '^ ^^®y ^®^^ ^^^J words, that there must be something in it. 
"^ t « The Witch continues. 

• The high power 

Of knowledge, 

Hidden from the whole world 1 
And he who thinks not, 
On him is it bestowed ; 
lle has it without trouble. 
FausL What sort of nonsense is she reciting to 
US ? My head is Splitting ! I seem to hear a hundred 
thousand idiots declaiming in füll chorus. 

Mepkistopheles, Enough, enough, excellent Sibyl ! 
Hand us thy drink, and €11 the cup to the brim 
without more ado ; for this draught will do mj 
friend no barm. Ile is a man of many grades, who 
has taken many a good gulp already. 

{The Witch vnth many ceremonies pov/ra the liquor into a 

cup ; as Faust liftsit to hismouth a lightßatme arises. 

Down with it at once. Do not stand hesitating. It 



witch's kitchen. 77 

will soon warm your heart. Are you liail-fellow well- 

met with the devil, and afraid of fire ? 

lITie WiTCH dissolves the circle — Faust steps out. 

Xow forth at once ! You must not rest. 

The Witch, Mach good may the draught do you, 

Mephistophdes {to the Witch). And if I can do any 
thing to pleasure you, you need only mention it to me 
on Walpurgis* night. 

The Witch. Here is a song ! if you sing it occa- 
sionally, it will have a particular effect on you. 

Mephistopheles (to Faust). Come quick, and be 
guided ; it is absolutely necessary for you to perspire, 
to make the spirit work through hlood and bone. I will 
afterwards teach you to value the nobility of idleness, 
and you will feel ere long, with heartfelt delight, how 
Capid bestirs himself and bounds hither and thither. 

Faust. Let me only look another moment in the 

88. That female form was too, too lovely. 

Mephistopheles, Nay, nay ; you shall soon see the 
model of all womankind in flesh and blood. (Äside.) 
With this draught in your body, you will soon see an 
Helen in every woman. 



78 



THE STREET. 

Faust (M ARG kKET passing hy), My pretty lady, may 
I take the liberty of offering you my arm and escort ? 

Margaret. I am neither lady, nor pretty, and can 
go home by myself. 

[8he disengages heraelf, cmd exit. 

FatAst, By heaven, tliis girl is lovely ! I bave 
never seen the like of her. She is so well-behaved 
and yirtuous, and sometbing snappisb witbal. The 
redness of her lip, the light of her cheek — I sball nerer 
forget them all the; days of my life. The manner in 
which she cast down her eyes is deeply stamped upon 
my heart ; and how tart she was — it was absolutely 
ravishing ! p^lK [Mbphistophbles erden. 

Faust, Hark, you must get me the girl. 

Mephistopheles. Which ? 

Faust. She passed but now. 

Mephistopheles, What, she ? She came from her 
confessor, who absolved her from all her sins. I stole 
up close to the chair. It is an innocent little thing, 
that went for next to nothing to the confessional. Over 
her I have no power. 

Faust. Yet she is past fourteen ! 

Mephistopheles. You positively speak like^ack 
Kake, who covets every sweet flower for himself, and 
fancies that there is neither honour nor favour which 
is not to be had for the plucking. But this will not 
always do. 

Faust. My good Mr. Sermoniser, don't plague me 
with your morality. And, in a word, I teil you this : 



THE STREET. 79 

if the sweet young creature does not lie this very niglit 
in my arms, at midnight our compact is at an end« 

Mephigtopheles, Consider 'what is possible. I need 
a fortnight, at least, only to find an opportunity. 

Faust. Had I but seven hours clear, I should not 
want the deviFs assistance to seduce such a child. 

Mephistopheles» You talk now ahnost like a French- 
man : but don't fret about it, I beg. What boots it 
to go straight to enjoyment ? The delight is not so 
great.by far, as when ypu have kneaded and moulded 
the doli on all sides with all sorts of nonsense, as many 
aJ^^reiM^ Story teaches. Mx^ ' ^v m 

Faust. But I have appetite without all that. 

Mephisiopheles. Now, seriously and without offence, 
I teil you once for all, that the lovely girl is not to be 
had in such a hurry ; nothing here is to be taken by 
storm ; we must have recourse to stratagem. 

Faust. Gel me something belongiDg to the angel. 
Carry me to her place of repose ; get me a kerchief 
from her bosom, agarter of my love. • ;• ' '' ' 

Mephistopheles. That ^ you may see my anxiety to 
minister to your passion, — we will not lose a moment ; 
this very day I will conduct you to her Chamber. 

Faust, And shall I see her ? have her ? — 

Mephistopheles. No. She will be at a neighbour's. 
In the meantime, you, all alone, and in her atmosphere, 
may feast to satiety on future jöys. 

Faust, Can we go now ? 

Mephistopheles. It is too early. 

Faust, Get me a present for her. [Exit. 

Mephistopheles. Making presents directly ! That 's 
capital ! That *s the way to succeed ! I know many a 
fine place and many a long-buried treasure. I must 
look thcm over a bit. i^xU 



80 



EVENING. 

Ä neat lüüe Boom. 

Margaret (braiding and hinding up her hair). I 

would giye something to know ^ho that gentlemaii was 

to-day ! He had a gallant bearing, and is of a noble 

family I am sure. I could read that on bis brow ; 

besides, he would not eise have been so impudent. 

lExit. 

Mephistopheles — Faust. 

Mephistopheles. Come in — as softly as possible — 
only come in ! 

Faiist (öfter a pause), Leave me alone, I beg of 
you. 

Mephistopheles (looking round), It is not every 
maiden that is so neat. [SxU. 

Faust (looking round). Welcome, sweet twilight, 

that pervades this sanctuary ! Possess my heart, 

delicious pangs of love, you who live languishing on 

the dew of hope ! What a feeling of peace, order, 

and contentment breathes round ! What abundance 

in this poverty ! What bliss in this cell ! 

[J3e throws himaelf upon the leathem taty chair hytki 
aide of the bed. 

Oh ! receive me, thou, who hast welcomed, with open 
arms, in joy and sorrow, the generations that are past. 
Ab, how often has a swarm of children clustered about 
this patriarchal throne. Here, perhaps, in gratitude 
for her Christmas-box, with the warm round cheek of 
childhood — ^has my beloved piously kissed the withered 



maboaket's room. 81 

hand of her grandsire. Maiden, I feel thj spirit of 
abnndance and order breathe round me — that spirit 
which dailj instructs thee like a mother — ^which bids 
thee spread the cloth neatl j upon the table and curl the 
sand at thj feet. Dear band ! so godlike ! you make 
the hut a heaven ; and here— (iJc lifts upa hedrcurtain) 
— what blissful tremor seizes me ! Here could I linger 
for whole hours ! Natore ! here, in light dreams, you 
matured the bom angel. Here lay the child ! its 
gentle bosom fiUed with warm life ; and here, with 
weavings of hallowed purity, the dirine image deve- 
loped itself. 

And thou, what has brought thee hiiher ? How 
deeply moved I feel ! What would'st thou here ? 
Why grows thy heart so heavy ? Poor Faust, I no 
longer know thee. 

Am I in an enchanted atmosphere ? I panted so 
for instant enjoyment, and feel myself dissolving into 
a dream of love. Are we the sport of erery pressure 
of the air ? 

And if she entered this very moment, how would'st 
thou atone for thy guilt ! The big boaster, alas, how 
small ! would lie, dissolved away, at her feet. 

Mephistopheles, Quick ! I see Her Coming below. 

Fau8t. Away, away ! I retum no more. 

Mephistopheles, Here is a casket tolerably heavy. 
I took it from somewhere eise. Only place it iustantly 
in the press here. I swear to you, she will be fairly 
beside herseif. I put baubles in it to gain another ; 
but child is child, and play is play. 

Faust. I know not — shall I? 

Mephistopheles. Is that a thing to ask about ? Per- 
cbance you mean to keep the treasure for yourself ? 
In that case I advise you to spare the precious hours 
for your kists, and further trouble to me. I hope you 



82 MABOAKET*S ROOM. 

are not avaricious. I Scratch my head, rub my hands — 
Iffeplaoes the caaket in the pren <md closes the lock, 
But away, quick ! — ^to bend the sweet youug crea- 
ture to your heart's desire ; and now you look as if 
you were going to the lecture-room — as if Phyaic and 
Metaphysic were standing grey and bodily before you 
there, But away ! lExeumL 

Margaret (with a lamp), It feels so close, so sultry 
here. [She opens the toindow]. And yet it is not so 
very warm without. I begin to feel I know not how. 
I wish my mother would come home. I tremble all 
over ; but I am a silly, timid woman. 

[She hegina to 8mg as the imdreates keradf. 

SONG. 

There was a king in Thule, 
Faithful even to the grave, 
To whom bis dying mistress 
Gave a golden goblet. 

He prized nothing above it ; 
He emptied it at every feast ; 
His eyes overflowed as often 
As he drank out of it. 

And when he carae to die, 
He reckoned up the cities in Ins kingdom ; 
He grudged none of them to his heif , 
But not so with the goblet. 

He sat at the royal banquet, 
With his knights around him, 
In his proud ancestral hall, there 
In his Castle on the sea. 



mabgabet's boom. 83 

There stood the cid toper, 
Took a parting draught of life*s glow, 
And threw the hallowed goblet 
Down into the waves. 

He saw it splash, fill/and sink 
Deep into the sea ; 
His eye& feil, he never 

Drank a drop more. 
iShe opens thepressto put atoay her clothe$f <md per» 
ceivea the caeket. 

How came this beautiful casket here ? I am sure 
I locked the press. It is very stränge ! What is in 
it, I wonder ? Perhaps some one bronght it as a 
pledge, and mj mother lent upon it. A little kej 
hangs by the ribhon ; I have a good xnind to open 
it. What is this ? Good heavens ! look ! I have 
neyer seen anything like it in all my born days ! A 
set of trinkets ! a countess might ¥rear such on the 
highest festival. How would the chaiu become me ? 
To whom can such finery belong ? -* 

[She pvJU them on, amd walka hefore the loohmg-glass, 

If the earrings were but mine ! one cuts quite a dif- 
ferent figure in them. What avails your beauty, young 
maiden ? That may be all pretty and good, but they 
let it all be. You are praised, half in pity ; but after 
gold presses — on gold hangs — everything. — Alas, 
for US poor ones ! 



e2 



84 



PUBLIC WALK. 

Faust waXIcmg wp cmd dotim thottgktftdly, To htm 

Mephistopheles. Bj all despised loye ! Bj the ele- 
ments of hell ! Would that I knew something worse 
to curse by ! 

Faiist. What is the matter? What is it that 
pinches you so sharply ? I never saw such a face in 
my life ! 

Mephistophdes. I could give myself to the de;^il 
directly, were I no devil myself. / 

FausU Is yoTir brain disordered ? It becpmes you 
truly, to rave like a madman. 

Mephistopheles* Only think ! A priest has carried 
off the jewels provided for Margaret, The mother 
gets sight of the thing, and begins at once to have a 
Beeret horror of it. Truly the woman hath a fine 
nose, is ever snuffling in her prayer-book, and smells 
in every piece of fiirniture whether the thing be holy 
or profane ; and she plainly smells out in the jewels, 
that there was not much blessing in them. ** My 
child,'* Said she, ** unrighteous wealth ensnares the 
soul, consumes the blood. We will consecrate it to 
the Mother of God ; she will gladden us with heavenly 
manna.*' Margaret made a wry face ; it is after all, 
thought she, a gift horse ; and truly, he cannot be 
godless, who brought it here so handsomely. The 
mother sent for a priest. Scarcely had he heard the 
jest, but he seemed well pleased with the sight. He 1 
spoke : ** This shows a good disposition ; who conquers 
himself, — he is the gainer. The chureh has a good 



PUBLIC WALK. 85 

stomach ; she has eaten up whole countries, and has 
never yet over-eaten herseif. The church alone, my 
good women, can digest unrighteous wealth." 

Faust, That is a general custom ; a Jew and a 
King can do it too. 

Mephistopheles, So sajing he swept off clasp, chain 
andring, as if they were so many mushrooms ; thanked 
them neither more nor less than if it hadheen a hasket 
of nuts ; promised them all heavenly reward — and 
very much edified they were. 

Fatist, And Margaret — 

Mephistophdes. Is now sitting füll of restlessness ; 
not knowing what to do with herseif ; thinks day and 
night on the trinkets, and still more on him who 
brought them to her. 

Faust, My love's grief distresses rae. Get her 
another set immediately. The first were no great 
things after all. 

Mephistopheles, Oh ! to he sure, all is ehild's play to 
the gentleman ! 

Faust. Do it, and order it as I wish. Stick close 
to her neighbour. Don't he a milk-and-water devil ; /v*^* ^i'^'i. 
wid fetch a fresh set of jewels. 

Mephistopheles. With all my heart, honoured Sir. 

[Faust exU. 

A love-sick fool like this puffs away into the air, 
Bun, moon, and stars, hy way of pastime for his 
tnistress. 






86 



THE NEIGHBOUR^S HOUSB. 

Martha (aUme). God forgive mj dear busband ; be 
has not acted well towards me. He goes straigbt 
awaj into tbe world, and leares me widowed and 
lonelj. Yet tnily I never did anytbing to vex bim ; 
God knowB I lored bim to mj beart. (8he weeps). 
Perbaps be is actually dead. Ob, torture ! Had I 
but a certificate of bis deatb ! 

Maegaret entert. 

Margaret, Martba ! 

Martha, Wbat is tbe matter, Margaret t 

Margaret, Mj knees almost sink under me ! I 
bave found just sueb anotber casket in my press, 
of ebonj, and tbings quite grand, far costlier tban 
tbe first. 

Martha, Tou must saj notbing about it to jour 
motber. Sbe would carry it to tbe confessional again. 

Margaret. New, only see ! do but look at tbem ! 

Martha {dresses her up in ihem). Ob! you bappy 
creatuie. 

Margaret. Ünfortunately, I must not be seen in 
tbem in tbe street, nor in tbe cbureb. 

Martha. Do but come over frequently to me, and 
put on tbe trinkets bere in private. Walk a little 
hour up and down before tbe looking-glass ; we sball 
bave our enjoyment in tbat. And tbcn an occasion 
offers, a boliday bappens, wbere, little by little, one 
lets folks see tbem ; — first a cbain, tben tbe pearl ear- 



THE neighboür's house. 87 

rings. Your mother, perhaps, will not observe it, or 

one may make some pretence to her. 

Margaret, But who could have brought the two 

caskets ? There is soraething not right about it. 

[Some one hnocks. 

Margaret, Good God ! can that be my motber ? 

Martha (looking through the hlinds), It is a stranger 

— come in ! 

Mephistopheles (enters), I have made free to come 

in at once ; I have to heg pardon of the ladies. 

[He Steps back respectftdly on aeeing Margaret. 

I came to inqiiire after Mrs. Martha Schwerdtlein. 

Martha, I am she ; what is your pleasure, Sir ? 

Mephistopheles {aside to her), I know you now— 
that is enough. You have a visitor of distinction 
there. Excuse the liberty I have taken. I will call 
again in the afternoon. 

Martha (alovd). Only think, child — of all tbings 
in the world ! this gentleman takes you for a lady. 

Margaret, I am a poor young creature. Oh ! 
Heavens, the gentleman is too obliging. The je weis 
and Ornaments are none of mine. 

Mephistopheles, Ah ! it is not the jewels alone. 
She has a mien, a look, so striking. How glad I am 
that I may stay. 

Martha. What do yoü bring then ? I am very 
curious — 

Mephistopheles. I wish I had better news. I hope 
you will not make me suffer for iti Your husband is 
dead, and sends you bis compliments. 

Martha, Is dead ! the good soul ! Oh, woe is 
me ! My husband is dead ! Ah, I shall die ! 

Margaret, Dear, good Martha, don't despair. 

Mephistopheles, Listen to the melancholy tale. 

Margaret, Por this reason I ßhould wish never to 



/ 



88 THE N£I6HB0ÜR*S HOUSE. 

be in lore for all the days of my life. The loss would 
grieve me to death. 

Mephiatopheles. Joy must have sorrow — boitow, joy. 

Martha. Relate to me the close of his life. 

Mephistopheles. He lies buried in Fadua at St. 
Antony's, in a well-consecrated spot for an eternally 
cool bed of rest. 

Martha. Have you nothing eise for me ? 

Mephistopheles, Yes, a request, big and heavy ! be 
sure to have three hundred masses sung for him. For 
the rest, my pockets are empty. 

Martha, What ! not a coin by way of token ? Not 
a trinket ? what every journeyma^ mechanic husbauds 
at the bottom of his poiich, savetl^as a keepsake, and 
rather starves, rather begs — 

Mephistopheles. Madam, I am very sorry. But he 
really has not squandered away his money . He also 
bitterly repented of his sins ; aye, and bewailed his 
ill-luck stfb more. 

Margaret. Ah ! that mortals should be so unlucky ! 
Assuredly I will sing many a requiem for him. 

Mephistopheles. You deserve to be married directly. 
You are a sweet girl. 

Margaret. Oh, no, there is time enough for that. 

Mephistopheles, If not a husband, then a gallant in 
the meantime. It were one of the best gifts of heaven 
to/have so sweet a thing in one 's arms. 

Margaret, That is not the eustom in this country. 

Mephistopheles, Custom or not, such things do come 
to pass though. 

Martha. But relate to me — 

Mephistopheles, I stood by his death-bed. It was 
Bomewhat better tban düng, — of half-rotten straw ; 
but he died like a Christian, and found that he had 
Btill much more upon bis score. ** How thoroughly/' 



THE neighbour's house. 89 

he cried, ** must I detest myself — to run away from 
iny business and my wife in »uch a manner. Oh ! 
the recollection is death to me. If she could but 
forgive me in this life ! ** — 

Martha {yoeeping), The good man ! I have long 
since forgiven him. 

MephistopJieles. ** But, God knows, she was more in 
fault thanl." 

Martha. He lied then ! What, teil lies on the 
blink of the grave ! 

Mephistopheles, He certainly fabled with his last 
breath, if I am but half a connoisseur. "I," said he, 
" had no occasion to gape for pastime — first to get 
children, and then bread for them — and bread in the 
widest sense, — and could not even eat my share in 
peace." 

Martha, Did he thus förget all my truth, all my 
loye — my drudgery by day and night ? 

Mephistopheles, Not so ; he* aiFectionately reflected 
on it. He said : ** When I left Malta, I prayed fer- 
Yently for my wife and children ; and heaven was so 
far favourable, that our ship took a Turkish vessel, 
which carried a treasure of the great sultan. Bravery 
had its reward, and, as was no more than right, I got 
my fair share of it." 

Martha, How! Where! Can he have buried it ? 

Mephistopheles, Who knows where it is now scat- 
tered . to the four winds of heaven ? A fair damsel 
took an interest in him as he was strolling about, a 
stranger, in Naples. She showed great fondness 
and fidelity towards him ; so much so, that he feit it 
even unto his blessed end. 

Martha. The villain ! the robber of his children ! 
And all the wretchedness, all the poverty, could not 
check his scandalous life. 



90 THE KEIGHBOUR's HOUSE. 

Mephistopkeles. But consider, he has paid for it 
with his life. Now, were I in your place, I would 
moum bim for one chaste year, and have an eye 
towards a new sweetheart in the meantime. 

Martha, Oh God! but I shali not easily in tbis 
World find another like my first. There couid hardly 
be a kinder-hearted fool : he only loved being away 
from home too mach, and stranger women, and 
stranger wme, and the cursed dicing. 

Mephi«tophde8. Well, well, things might have gone 
on very well, if he, on hia part, only had the same 
indulgence for you. I protest, upon this condition, I 
would change rings with you myself ! 

Martha, Oh, the gentleman is pleased to jest. 

Mephistopheks (aside). Now it is füll time to be off. 
I dare say she would take the devil himself at his 
Word. — {To Margaret). How goes it with your 
heart ? 

Margaret. What do you mean, Sir ? 

Mephistophelea (aside). Good, innocent child. — 
(Aloud), — Farewell, ladies ! 

Margaret, Farewell! 

Martha, Oh, but teil me quickly ! I should like 
to have a certificate where, how, and when my love 
died and was buried. I was always a.friend to regu- 
larity, and should like to read his death in the paper. 

Mephütopheles, Aye, my good madam, the truth is 
manifested by the testimony of two witnesses all the 
World over ; and I have a gallant companion, whom I 
will bring before the judge for you. I will fetch him 
here. 

Martha, Oh, pray do ! 

Mephistopheles, And the young lady will be here 
too ? — a fine lad ! has travelled much, and shows all 
possible politeness to the ladies. 



THE NEIOHBOFR's HOUSE. 91 

Margaret, I should be corered with confusion in the 
presence of the gentleman. 

Mephütopheles. In the presence of no king on 
earth. 

Martha, Behind the house there, in my garden, 
we shall ezpect you both this evening. 



1 



92 



THE STREET. 

Faust — Mephistophbles. 

Faust. How goes it ? Is it in train? Will it 
Boou do ? 

Mephistophdes, Bravo ! Do I find you all on fire ? 
Margaret will very shortly be your's, This evening 
you will see her at her neighbour Martha 'b. This is 
a woman especially chosen, as it were, for the pro- 
curess and gypsey calling. 

Faust, So far so good. 

Mephistophdes. Something, however, is required 

Of US. 

Faust. One good tum deserres another. 

Mephistophdes. We have only to make a formal 
deposition that the stretched limbs of her lord repose 
in holy ground in Padua. 

Faust. Wisely done ! We shaU first be obliged to 
take the journey thither, I suppose. 

MephistopheUs. Sancta simplicitas ! There is no 
necessity for that. Only bear witness without knowing 
much about the matter. 

Faust, If you have nothing better to propose, the 
Bcheme is at an end. 

Mephistophdes. Oh, holy man ! There 's for you 
now ! Is it the first time in your life that you have 
bome false testimony ? Have you not confidently 
given definitions of God, of the world, and of what- 
ever moves in it — of man, and of the workings of bis 
head and heart — with unabashed front, dauntless 
breast? And, looking fairly at the real nature of 



THE STREET. 93 

things, did jou — you must confess you did not — did 
you know as much of these matters as of Mr. Schwerdt- 
iein's death ? 

Faust, Thou art and ever wilt be a liar, a sophist. 

Mephistopheles. Aye, if one did not look a little 
deeper. To-morrow, too, will you not, in all honour, 
make a fool of poor Margaret, and swear to love her 
with all your soul ? 

Faust, And truly from my heart. 

Mephistopheles. Fine talking ! Then will you speak 
of eternal truth and love — of one exelusive, all-subdu- 
ing passion ; — ^will that also come from tlie heart ? 

Faust. Peace — ^it will ! — ^when I feel, and seek a 
name for the passion, the phrenzy, but find none ; 
then ränge with all my senses through the world, grasp 
at all the most sublime ezpressions, and call this flame, 
which is consuming me, endless, eternal, eternal ! — 
is that a devilish play of lies ? 

Mephistopheles. I am right for aU that. 

Faust. Hear ! mark this, I heg of you, and spare 
my längs. He who is determined to be right and has 
but a tongue, will be right undoubtedly. But come, 
I am tired of gossiping. For you are right, particu- 
larly because I cannot help myself. 



94 



GARDEN. 

Margaret on Faust'b arm, Martha with Mephistophelm, 

Walking up a/nd down. 

Margaret, I am sure, Sir, that jou are onlj trifliug 
with me — letting yourself down to shame me. Tra- 
vellers are wont to put up with things out of good 
nature. I know too well that my poor prattle cannot 
entertain a man of your experience. 

Faust. A glance, a word from thee, gives greater 

pleasure than all the wisdom of this world. 

[He hiMes her hand. 

Margaret, Don't inconvenience yourself! How 
can you kiss it ? It is so coarse, so hard. I have 
been obliged to do — heaven knows what not ; my 
mother is indeed too close. 9 [They pan <m. y^^ 

Martha. And you, Sir» are always travelling in this 
manner? 

Mephistopheles, Alas, that business and duty should 
force US to it ! How many a place one qnits with 
regret, and yet may not tarry in it ! 

Martha. It does very well in the wild years of 
youth, to rove about freely through the world. But • 
the evil day comes at last, and to sneak a soHtary old 
bachelor to the grave — ^that was never well for any 
one yet. 

Mephistopheles, I shudder at the distant view of it. 

Martha. Then, worthy Sir,- think better of it in 
time. IThey pasa o». 

Margaret. Aye ! out of sight out of mind ! Polite- 



GARDEN. 96 

ness sits easily on you. But you have plenty of 
friends : they are more senBible than I am. 

Faust, Oy thou excellent creature ! believe me, 
what is called sensible, often better deserves the narae 
of vanity and narrow-mindedness. 

Margaret, How ? 

Faust. Alas, that simplicity, that innocence, never 
appreciates itself and its own hallowed worth ! That 
humility, lowliness — the highest gifts of love-fraught, 
boanteous nature — 

Margaret. Only think of me one little minute ; I 
shall have time enough to think of you. 

Faust. You are much alone, I dare say ? 

Margaret. Yes, our household ia but small, and yet 
it must be looked after. We keep no maid ; I am 
obliged to cook, sweep, knit and sew, and run early 
and late. And my mother is so precise in everything ! 
Not that she has such pressing occasion to stint 
herself. We might do more than many others. My 
father left a nice little property — a small house and 
garden in the suburbs. However, my days at present 
are tolerably quiet. My brother is a soldier ; * my 
Httle sister is dead. I had my füll share of trouble 
with her, but I would gladly take all the anxiety upon 
myself again, so dear was the child to me. 

Faust. An angel, if it was like theo ! 

Margaret. I brought it up, and it loved me dearly. 
It was born after my father *s death. We gave up my 
mother for lost, so sad was the condition she then 
lay in ; and she recovered very slowly, by degrees« 
Thus she could not think of suckling the poor little 
worm, and so I brought it up, all by myself, with 
milk and water. It thus became my own. On my 
arm, in my bosom, it smiled, and sprawled, and grew. 
Faust. You feit, no doubt, the purest joy. 



96 GARDEN. 

Margaret, And manj anxious hours, too. The 
little one*s cradle stood at night by my bed-side : it 
could scarcely move but I was awake ; now obliged 
to give it drink ; now to take it to bed to me ; now, 
when it would not be quiet, to rise from bed, and walk 
up and down in the room dandling it ; and early in 
the morning, stand abeady at the wash-tub : then go . 
to market and see to the house ; and so on, day afiter 
day. Under such circumstances, Sir, one is not 
always in spirits ; but food and rest relish the better 
for it. [TfuypoMon, 

Martha. The poor women have the worst of it. • It 
is no easy matter to convert an old bachelor. 

Mepkistopkeles. It only depends on one like you to 
teach me better. 

Martha. Teil me plainly, Sir, have you never met 
with any one ? Has your heart never attached itself 
any where ? 

Mepkistopkeles. The proverb says — a hearth of 
one 's own, a good wife, are worth pearls and gold. 

Martha» I mean, have you never had an inclination ? 

Mephistophdes. I have been in general very politely 
received. 

Martha. I wished to say — ^was your heart never se- 
riously affected ? 

Mephistophdes. One should never venture to joke 
with women. 

Martfta. Ah, you do not understand me. 

Mephistophdes* I am heartily sorry for it, But I 
understand — that you are very kind. \T}uy pasa <m. 

Faust. You knew me again, you little angel, the 
moment I entered the garden. 

Margaret. Did you not see it ? I cast down my eyes. 

Faust. And you forgive the liberty I took — my 
impudence as you were lately leaving the cathedral. 



GARDEN. 97 

Margaret. I was frightened ; such a thing had 
nerer happened to me before ; no one could saj anj 
thing bad of me. Alas^, thonght I, has he seen any ' 
thing bold, unmaidenlj, in thj behavioiir ? It seemed 
as if the thought suddenly Struck him, ** I need stand 
on no ceremonj with this girl.*' I mnst own, I knew 
not what began to stir in your fayour here ; but cer- 
tainly I was right angry with myself for not being 
able to be more angry with you. 

Fatut, Sweet love ! 

Margaret. Wait a moment ! 

[Ske plucha a ttar-fiower^ and ficka off Ihe leaves one 
afiertke other, 

Faust. What is that for — a nosegay ? 
Margaret. No, only a game. 
Fatist, How! 

Margaret. Go ! Tou will laugh at me. 
* [Ske plucka off the ka/vea <md mmrmwn to heraelf. 

Faust. What are you murmuring ? 

Margaret {kalfaloud.) Heloves me — ^heloyes menot ! 

Faust. Thou angelic being ! 

Margaret continues. Loves me — not — loves txxq— 
noi^CPlucking off the last leaf with fand delight). — J 

He loves me ! 

Faust. Yes, my child. Let this flower-prophecy 
be to thee as a judgment from heaven. He loves 
thee ! dost thou understand what that means ? He '{ 

loves thee ! ^Be taket hoth her handt. 1 

Margaret. I tremble all over ! 

Faust. Oh, tremble not. Let this look, let this 
pressure of the band, say to thee what is unutter- 
able ! — ^to give ourselves up whoUy, and feel a bliss 
whicb must be etemal ! Etemal ! — its end would be 
despair ! No, no end ! no end ! 

[Margaret presset his hcmds, hreaJcs fr<m Mmy and rmni 
awa/y. He sUmds amomemtin thottgJU,and thenfoUowshir. 

E 



98 GASDEK. 

Monika (approachiTig), The night is coming on. 

Mephigtopheles. Aje, and we will awaj. 

Martha. I would ask you to stay here longer, but 
it is mnch too wicked a place. One would Buppose no 
one had any ether object or occupation than to gape 
after his neighbour's incomings and outgoings. And 
one comes to be talked about, behaye as one will. And 
our pair of lovers? 

Mephistopheles, Hare flown up the walk yonder. 
Wanton butterflies ! 

Martha. He seems fond of her. 

Mephigtopheles. And ehe of him. Such is the way 
of the World. 



99 



A SUMMER HOUSE. 

Margaret rrms m, gets hehind tke door, holds the tip of her 
finget to her lips, and peepa through the crevice. 

Margaret, He comes ! 

Faust (enters). Ah, rogue, is it thus you trifle with 
me ? I have caught you at last. [ffe hUses her, 

Margaret {embra^iing htm and retuming the kiss), 
Deareat ! from my heart I love thee ! 

[Mephistophelbs hßocki. 

Faust (stamping), Who is there ? 

Mepkistopkeles, A fricnd. 

Faust, A brüte. 

Mephisiqpheles, It is time to part, I believe. 

Martlui {comes up), Yes, it is late, Sir. 

Faust, May I not accompany you ? 

Margaret, My mother would — ^farewell ! 

Faust, Must I then go ? Farewell ! 

Martha. Adieu ! 

Margaret. Till our next speedy meeting ! 

[Faust and Mephistophelbs eacewid. 

Margaret, Gracious God ! How many tliings such 
a man can think about ! How abashed I stand in bis 
presence, and say yea to everything ! I am but a 
poor silly girl ; I cannot understand what he sees in me« 



h2 



100 



FOREST AND CAVERN. 

Fav^t (alone). Sublime spirit ! thou gavest me, 
gavest me everything I prayed for. Not in vain didst 
thou turn thj face in fire to me. Thou gavest me 
glorious nature for a kingdom, with power to feel, to 
enjoy her. It is not merely a cold wondering visit 
that thou permittest me ; thou grudgest me not to 
look into her deep bosom, as into the bosom of a 
friend. Thou passest in reyiew before me the whole 
series of animated things, and teachest me to know 
my brothers in the still wood, in the air , and in tbe 
water. And when the storm roars and creaks in the 
forest, and the giant-pine, precipitating its neighbour- 
boughs and neighbour-stems, sweeps, crushing, down, 
— and the mountain thunders with a dead hollow 
muttering to the fall, — then thou bearest me off to tbe 
sheltered cave ; then thou showest me to myself, and 
deep mysterious wonders of my own breast reveal 
themselves. And when the clear moon, with its sooth- 
ing inöuences, rises füll in my view, — from the wall- 
like rocks, out of the damp underwood, the silvery 
forms of past ages hoyer up to me, and soften the 
austere pleasure of contemplation. 

Oh, now I feel that nothing perfect falls to the lot 
of man ! With this beatitude, which brings me nearer 
and nearer to the gods, thou gavest me the companion, 
whom already I cannot do without ; although, cold 
and insolent, he degrades me in my own eyes, and 
turns thj gifts to nothing with a breath. He is ever 



FOREST AND CAVERN. 101 

kindling a wildfire in ray heart for that lovcly image. 
Thus do I reel from desire to enjoyinent, and in enjoy- 
ment languish for desire. 

Mephistopheles {enters), Have you not had enough 
of this kind of life ? How can you delight in it for 
any length of time ? It is all well enough to try once, 
but then on again to something new. 

Faust. I would you had something eise to do than 
to plague me in my happier hour. 

Mephistopheks, Well, well ! I will let you alone 
if you wish. You need not say so in earnest. Truly, 
it is little to lose an ungracious, peevish and crazy 
companion in you. The livelong day one has one*s 
hands füll. One cannot read in your worship's face 
what pleases you, and what to let alone. 

FaiLSt. That is just the right tone ! He would fain 
be thanked for wearying me to death. 

Mephistopheles, Poor son of earth ! what sort of 
life would you have led without me ? I have cured 
you, for some time to come, of the crotchets of Imagi- 
nation, and, but for me, you would already have taken 
your departure from this globe. Why mope in eaverns 
and fissures of rocks, like an owl ? Why sip in 
nourishment from sodden moss and dripping stone, 
Uke a toad ? A fair, sweet pastime ! The doctor 
still sticks to you. 

Fausl, Dost thou understand what new life-power 
this wandering in the desert procures for me ? Aye, 
could'st thou have but a diia presentiment of it, thou 
would'st be devil enough togrudge mie my enjoyment. 

Mepkisiopheles. A super-earthly pleasure ! To lie on 
the mountains in darkness and dew — clasp earth and 
heaven ecstatically — swell yourself up to a godhead — 
rake through the earth's marrow with your thronging 
presentiments — feel the whole six days' work in your 



102 FOREST AND CATERN. 

bosom — in hauglity might enjoy I _know not what-r- 
now overflow, in love's rapturea, into all, with your 
earthly nature cast aside — and then the loffcy intuition 
{with a gesture) — I must not say how — ^to end ! 

Faust. Fye upon you ! 

Mepkistopheles, That is not to your mind. Ton are 
entitled to cry fye ! so morally ! We must not name 
to chaste ears wliat chaste hearts cannot renounce. 
Andy in a word, I do not grudge you the pleasure of 
lying to yourself occasionally. But you wül not keep . 
it up long. You are already driven back into your. ^ 
old course, and, if this holda much longer, willHbe ^'^^•^ 
fretted into madness or torture and horror. Enough ''' 
of this ! your little love sits yonder at home, and all 
to lier is confined and melancholy. You are never 
absent from her thoughts. She loves you all sub- 
duingly. At first, your passion came overfiowing, like 
a snow-flushed rivulet ; you have poured it into her 
heart, and lo ! your rivulet is' dry again. Methinks, 
instead of reigning in the woods, your worship would 
do well to reward the poor young monkey for her 
love. The time seems lamentably long to her ; she 
Stands at the window and watches the clouds roll away 
over the old town-walls. ** Were I a bird ! " so runs 
her song, during all the day and half the night. One 
while she is cheerful, mostly cast down, — one while 
fairly outwept : — then, again, composed, to all appear- 
ance-^and ever loveaick ! 

Faibst, Serpent ! serpent ! 

Mephistophele's {aside), Good! if I canbut catch you I 

Faust Reprobate ! take thyself away, and name 
not the lovely woman. Bring not the desire for her 
Bweet body before my half-distracted senses again ! 

Mephistopheles* What is to be done, then? She 
thinks that you are o£P, and in some manner you are. 



FOREST AND GAYERN. 103 

Faust. I am near her, and were I ever so far off, I 
can never forget, never lose her. Nay, I already envy 
the body of the Lord when her lips are touchmg it. 

Mephisiopheles. Very well, my friend. I have 
often enyied you the twin-pair, which feed among roses. 

Faust» Fander ! begone. 

Mephistopheies. Good again ! Ton rail, and I can- 
not help langhing. The God, who made lad and lass, 
well understood the noble calling^f making opportu- 
nity too. But away, it is a mighty matter to be sad 
about ! Ton should betake yourself to your mistresB*s 
Chamber — not, I think, to death. 

Faust. What are the joys of heaven in her arms ? 
Let me kindle on her breast ! Do I not feel her 
wretchedness unceasingly ? Am I not the outcast — 
the houseless one ? — ^the monster without aim or rest 
— ^who, like a cataract, dashed from rock to rock, in 
devouring fury towards the precipice ? And she, 
upon the side, with childlike simplicity, in her little 
cot upon the little mountain field, and all her homely 
cares embraced within that little world ! And I, the 
hated of God — ^it was not enough for me to grasp the 
rocks and smite them to shatters ! Her, her peace, 
must I undermine ! -—Hell, thou could'st not rest 
without this sacrifice ! Devil, help me to shorten the 
pang ! Let what must be, be quickly ! Let her fate 
fallcrushing upon me, and both of us perish together ! 

Mephistopheies. How it seethes and glows again ! 
Get in, and comfort her, you fool ! — When such a 
noddle sees no outlet, it immediately represents to 
itself the end. He who bears himself bravely, for 
eyer ! And yet, on other occasions, you have a fair 
spiee of the devil in you. I know nothing in the 
World more insipid than a devil that despairs. 



104 



MARGARETES ROOM. 

Margaret (ahne, at the spinning-wheel), 
My peace is gone ; 
My heart is heavy ; 
I shall find it never. 
And never more, 

Where I have him not 
Is the grave to me. 
The whole world 
Is embittered to me. 

My poor head 
Is Wandering, 
My poor sense 
Bistracted. 

My peace is gone ; 
My heart is heary ; 
I shall find it never. 
And never more. 

For him alone look I 
Out at the window ! 
For him alone go I 
Out of the house ! 



mabgaret's boom. 105 

His stately step, 
His noble form ; 
The smile of his mouth, 
The power of his eyes. 

And of his Speech 
The witching flow ; 
The pressure of his hand. 
And, ah ! his kiss ! 

My peace is gone ; 
My heart is heavy ; 
I shall find it never, 
And never more. 

My bosom struggles 

After him. 

Ah ! could I enfold him 

And hold him ! 

And kiss him 

As I would! 

On his kisses 

I should die away! 



106 



MARTHA'S GARDEN. 

Margaret. — Faust. 

Margaret. Promise me, Henry ! 

Faust, What I can ! 

Margaret, Now, teil me, how do you feel as to 
religion ? You are a dear, good man, but I believe 
you don't think much of it. 

Faust No more of that, my child ! you feel I 
love you : I would lay down my lifo for those I love, 
nor would I deprive any of their feeling and thek 
churcb. 

Margaret. That is not right ; we must believe 
in it. 

Faust. Must we ? 

Margaret. Ah I if I had any influence over you ! 
Besides, you do not honour the boly sacraments. 

Faust. I honour them. 

Margaret. But without desiring them. It is long 
since you went to mass or confession. Do you believe 
in God ? 

Faust, My love, who dares say, I believe in God ? 
You may ask priests and philosophers, and their an- 
swer will appear but a mockery of the questioner. 

Margaret, You don't beheve, then ? 

Fatist, Mistake me not, thou lovely one ! Who 
dare uame him ? and who avow : "I believe in him ? " 
Who feel — and dare to say : ** I believe in him not ?" 
The All-embracer, the All-sustainer, does he not 



MABTHA*S QABDEN. 107 

embrace and sustain thee, me, himself ? Does not 

the heaven ftrch itself there above ?-^Lies not the 

earth firm here below ? — And do not eternal stars 

rise, kindly twinkling, on higb ? — Are we not look- 

ing into each other's eyes, and is not all thronging to 

thy head and heart, and weavin^ in eternal mystery, 7>t^t^^«^^ f 

invisibly — visibly, about thee ? With it fiU thy heart, 

big as it is, and when thou art wholly blest in the 

feeling, then-call it what thou wilt ! Call it Bliss ! — 

Heart ! — Love ! — God ! I have no name for it ! 

Feeling is all in all. Name is sound and smoke, 

clouding hearen's glow. 

Margaret» That is all very fine and good. The 
priest says nearly the same, oilly with somewhat dif- 
ferent words. 

Faust. All hearts in all places under the blessed 
light of day say it, each in its own language — ^why 
not in mine ? 

Margaret. Thus taken, it may pass ; but, for all 
that, there is something wrong about it, for thou hast 
Qo Christianity. 

Faust. Dear child ! 

Margaret. I have long been grieved at the com« 
pany I see you in. 

Faust. How so ? 

Margaret. The man you have with you is hateful 
to me in my inmost soul. Nothing in the whole course 
of my life has given my heart such a pang, as the 
repulsive visage of that man. 

Faust. Fear him not, dear child. 

Margaret. His presence makes my blood creep. 
I have kind feelings towards everybödy eise. But, 
much as I long to see you, I have an unaccountable 
horror of that man, and hold him for a rogue besides. 
God forgive me, if I do him wrong. 



108 MARTHA*S GABDEy. 

Faust, Theremust be such oddities, notwithstanding. 

Margaret, I would not live with the like of bim. 
Wbenever be comes to tbe door, he looka in so mock- 
ingly, and with fury but half-suppressed ; one sees 
that be sjmpathises with notbing. It is written on 
bis forehead, that be can love no living soul. I feel 
80 bappy in thy anns-so unrestrained— in such glow- 
ing abandonment ; and bis presence closes up my 
beart's core. 

Faust* You misgiving angel, you ! 

Margaret, It overcomes me to such a degree, that 
when be but chances to join us, I even think I do not 
love you any longer. And in bis presence, I sbould 
never be able to pray*; and tbis eats into my beart. 
You, too, Henry, must feel tbe same. 

Faust. You haye an antipathy, that is all. 

Margaret, I must go now. 

Faust. Ab, can I never recline one little bour un- 
disturbed upon thy bosom, and press beart to beart 
and soul to soul ! 

Margaret, Ab, did I but sleep alone ! I would 
gladly leave tbe door unbolted for you tbis very night. 
But my motber does not sleep sound, and were she to 
catch US, I sbould die upon tbe spot. 

Faust, Thou angel, there is no fear of that. You 
see tbis phial ! Only three drops in her drink will 
gently envelope nature in deep sleep. 

Margaret, What would I not do for thy sake ? It 
will do her no barm, I hope. 

Faust. Would I recommend it to you, my love, if 
it could ? 

Margaret, If, best of men, I do but look on you, 
I know not what drives me to comply with your will. 
I have already done so much for you, that next to 
nothing now remains for me to do« [Exii, 



MARTHA's GARDEN. 109 

Mephistopheles {who enters). The silly monkej ! is 
she gone. 

Faust, Hast thou been playing the spj again ? 

Mephistopheles, I heard what passed plainly enough. 
You were catechised, Doctor. Much good may it do 
you. The girls are certainly deeply interested in 
knowing whether a man be pious and piain after the 
old fashion. They say to themselves : " If he is 
pliable in that matter, he will alsQ be pliable to us." 

Faust, Thou, monster as thou art, canst not con- 
ceive how this fond, faithful soul, füll of her faith, 
which, according to her notions, is alone capablo of •• 
Conferring etemal happiness, feels a holy horror to 
think that she must hold her best-beloved for lost. 

Mephistopheles. Thou super>sensual, sensual lover, 
a chit of a girl leads theo by the nose. 

Faust, Thou abortion of dirt and fire ! 

Mephistopheles, And she is knowing in physiognomy 
too. In my presence she feels she knows not how. 
This little masl^betokens some hidden sense. She ■■- 
feels that I am most assuredly a genius — perhaps the 
devil himself. To night, then — ? 

FaiLst. What is that to you ? 

Mephistopheles, I have my pleasure in it, though. 



110 



AT THE WELL. 

Ma&oarst and Bebst wi/Üi pitchers. 

Bessy, Have you heard nothing of Barbara ? 

Margaret. Not a word. I go very little abroad. 

Bessy, Certainly, Sybella told it me to-day. She 
has even made a fool of herself at last. That comes 
of playing the fine lady. 

Margaret. How bo ? 

Bessy. It is a bad bosiness. She feeds two when 
she eats and drinks now. 

Margaret. Ah ! 

Bessy. She is rightly served at last. What a time 
she has hung upon the fellow ! There was a prome- 
nading and a gallanting to village junkettings and 
dancing booths — she forsooth must be the first in 
everything — he was ever treating her to tarts and 
wine. She thought great things of her beauty, and 
was so lost to honour as not to be ashamed to receive 
presents from him. There was a hugging and kissing 
— and lo, the flower is gone ! 

Margaret. Poor thing 1 

Beaat/. You really pity her ! When the like of us 
were at the spinning, our mothers never let us go 
down at night. She stood sweet with her lover ; on 
the bench before the door, and in the dark walk, the 
time was never too long for them. But now she may 
humble herself, and do penance, in a white sheet, in 
the church« 

Margaret. He will surely roake her bis wife. 

Bessy. He would be a fool if he did. A brisk 



AT THE WELL. 111 

joüng fellow has the world before him. Besides, 
he*8 off. 

Margaret, That*s not handsome ! 

Bessy, If she gets him, it vrill go ill with her. 
The boys will tear her garland for her, and we will 
strew cut straw before her door. [Exit. 

Margaret {going kome). How stoutly 1 could formerly 
revile, if I saw a poor maiden make a slip ! how 1 
cotdd never find words enough to speak of another's 
shame ! How black it seemed to me ! and, blacken it 
as I would, it was neyer black enough for uy» — ^and 
blessed myself and feit so grand, and am now myself 
a prey to sin ! Yet — all that drove me to it, was, 
6od knows, so sweet, so dear ! 



112 



ZWINGER. 

/n ths niehe of ihe wall a devoUoncU image ofike MaJter 
Dohrota, wUh pots ofßovfen hefort ii, 

Margaret {places fresh floioers in the poU). 
Ah, inclme, 
Thou füll of pain, 
Thy countenance gracioaslj to my distress. 

The sword in thy heart, 

With thousand pangs 

Up-lookest thou to thy Son's death. 

To the Father look'st thou. 

And sendest sighs 

Aloft for his and thy distress. 

Who feels 

How rages 

My torment to the quick ? 

How the poor heart in me throhheth^ 

How it tremhleth, how it yeameth, 

Knowest thou, and thou alone ! 

Whithersoe'er I go, 
What woe, what woe, what woe, 
Grows within my hosom ker0 ! 
Hardly, alas, am 1 alone. 



ZWINGER. 113 



I weep, I wcep, I weep, 

My heart is burstiii^ within me ! 

The flower-pots on my window-sill 
Bedewed I with tears, alas ! 
When I at morning's davvii 
Plucked these flowers for thee. 

When brightly in my chainber 
The rising sun's rays shone, 
Already, in all wretchedness, 
Was I sitting iip in my bed. 

Help ! rescue me from shame and death ! 

Ah, incline, 

Thou füll of pain, 

Thy countenance graciously to my distress ! 



iU 



NIGHT.— STREET BEFORE MARGARET'S 

DOOR. 

Valbmtimb (a SoldieTy Margaretes brolker.) 

When I made one of a companj, where many like 
to show off, and the fellows wcre loud in th^ir praises 
of the flower of maidens, and drowned their commeud- 
ation in bumpers, — ^with my elbows leaning on the 
board^I sat in quiet confidence, and listened to all 
their swaggering ; then I stroke my beard with a 
smile, and take the bumper in my band, and say : 
" All very well in ita way ! but is there one in ihe 
whole country to compare with my dear Margaret,— 
who is fit to hold a candle to my sister ?" Hob and 
nob, kling ! klang ! so it went round ! Some 
shouted, ** he is right ; she is the pearl of the whole 
sex ;" and all those praisers were dumb. And now 
— it is enough to make one tear out one 's hair by the 
roots, and run up the walls — I shall be twitted by the 
sneers and taunts of every knave, shall sit like a 
bankrupt debtor, and sweat at every chance word. 
And though I might crush them at a blow, yet I 
could not call them liars. Who comes there ? Who 
is slinking this way ? If I mistake not, there are 
two of them. If it is he, I will haye at him at once; 
he shall not leave this spot alive. 

Faust. How from the window of the Sacristy there, 
the light of the etemal lamp flickers upwards, and 
glimmers weaker and weaker at the sides, and dark- 
ness thickens round .' Just so is all night-like in my 
breast. » . 



STBSET. 115 

Mephistopheles, And I feel languislimg like the 
tom-cat, that sneaks along the fire-ladders and then 
creeps stealthily round the walls. 1 feel quite vir- 
tuously, — with a spiee of thievish pleasure, a spiee of 
vantonness. In such a manner does the glorious 
Walßurgis night already thrill me through every limh. 
The day after to-morrow it comes round to us again ; 
there one knows what one wakes for. 

FausU In the mean time, can that he the treasure 
rising, — that which I see glimmering yonder? 

Mephistopheles, You will soon enjoy the lifting up 
of the casket. I lately took a squint at it. There 
are capital lion-dollars within. 

Fa%Ast. Not a trinket — not a ring — to adom my 
lovely mistress with ? 

Mephistopheles, I think I saw some such thing 
there as a sort of pearl necklace. 

FaxAst. That is well. I feel sorry when I go to her 
without a present. 

Mephistopheles. You ought not to regret having 
some enjoyment gratis. Now that the heavens are 
studded thick with stars, you shall hear a true piece of 
art. I will sing her a moral song, to make a fool of 
her the more certainly. [^ß sings to the guUar, 

" What are you doing here, Catherine, hefore your 
loYer's door at morning dawn ? Stay, and he wäre ! 
he lets thee in a maid, not to come out a maid. 

" Beware ! If it he done, then good night to you, 
you poor, poor things. If you love yourselves, do 
nothing to pleasui'e any spoiler, except with the ring 
on the finger. 

Valentine (comes forward), Whom art thou luring 
here ? hy God ! thou cursed ratcatcher ! First, to 
the devil with the Instrument, then to the devil with 
the singer. 

I 2 



116 STREET. 

Mephistopheles. The guitar is broken to piecesi 
It is all up with it. 

Valentine. Now then for a skuU-cracking. 

ifephistopheles (to Faust). Don't give way, Doxjtor! 
Courage ! Stick close, and do as I teil you. Out 
with your toasting-iron ! Thrust away, and I will 
parry. 

Valentine, Parry that ! 

Mephistopheles. Why not ? 

Valentine, And that ! 

Mephistopheles. To be sure. 

Valentine. I believe the devil is fighting. Wliat is 
that ? My band is already disabled. 

MephistopheUh (to Faust). Thrust home ! 

VanletinefaUs, Ob, torture I 

Mephistopheles, The clown is tamed now. But 
away ! We must vanish in a twinkling, for a borrible 
öutcry is already raised. I am perfectly at home with 
the police, but should find it hard to clear scores with 
the criminal courts. 

Martha [at the window). Out I out ! 

Margaret {at the window). Bring a light ! 

Martha {as hefore). They arerailing and scuffling, 
screaming and fighting. 

People, Here lies one dead already. 

Martha {coming otit) . Have the murderers escaped ? 

Margaret {coming out), Who lies here? 

People. Thy mother's son. 

Margaret, Almighty God! what misery! 

Valentine. I am dying! that is soon said, and 

sooner still done. Why do you women stand howling 

and wailing? Come here and listen to me 

\^AU come round him. 

Look ye, my iittle Margaret! you are still youngl 
you are not yet adroit enpugh, and manage your mat- 



STREET. 117 

ters ill. I teil it you in confidenöe ; since you are, once 
for all, a whore, be one in good earnest. 

Margaret, Brother ! God ! What do you mean ? 

Valentine. Leave our Lord God out of tlie game. 
What is done, alas! cannot be undone, and things 
will take their course. You begin privately with one ; 
more of them will soon follow; and when a dozen 
have had you, the whole town will have you too. 

When first Shame is born, she is brought into the 
World clandestinely, and the veil of night is drawn 
over her head and ears. Aye, people would fain stifle 
her. But when she grows and waxes big, she walks 
flauntingly in open day, and yet is not a whit the 
fairer. The uglier her face becomes, the more she 
Courts the light of day. 

By my truth, I already see the time when all honest 
towns-people will turn aside from you, you whore, as 
from an infected corpse. Your heart will sink within 
you when they look you in the face. You will wear 
no golden chain again ! No more will you stand at 
the altar in the church, or take pride in a fair lace col- 
lar at the dance. You will hide yourself in some dark 
miserable corner, amongst beggars and cripples, and, 
even should God forgive you, be cursed upon earth ! 

Martha, Commend your soul to God's mercy. Will 
you yet heap the sin of slander upon your soul. 

Valentine. Could I but get at thy withered body, 
thou shameless bawd, 1 should hope to find a füll 
measure of pardon for all my sins ! 

Margaret, My brother I Oh, this agonizing pang ! 

Valentine, Have done with tears, I teil you. When 
you renounced honour, you gave me the deepest heart- 
stab of all. I go through death's sleep unto God, a 
soldier and a brave one. [He dies. 



118 



CATHEDRAL. 

SERVICE, ORGAN, AND ANTHEM. 

Margaret amongst a numher of People, Etil Spirit heJänd 

Margaret. 
Evil SpiriU 

How difFerent was it with thee, Margaret, 

When still füll of innocence 

Thou camest to the altar there — 

Out of the well-wom little book 

Lispedst prayers, 

Half child-sport, 

Half God in the heart! 

Margaret ! 

Where is thy liead ? 

In thy heart 

What crime ? 

Prayest thou for thy mother* s soul — who 

Slept over into long, long pain through thee? 

Whose blood on thy threshold ? 

'. And under thy heart 

Stirs it not quickening even now, 

Torturing itself and thee 

With its foreboding presence ? 
3fargaret, 

Woe ! woe ! 

Would that I were free from the thoughts, 

That come over mc and across me 

Despite of mc ! 



CATHEDRAL. 119 

Chorus. 

Dies iree, dies illa 

Solvet saeclum in favillä. [Orffan plays, 

Eml Spirit. 

Horror seizes thee ! 

The Trump sounds ! 

The graves tremble ! 

And thy heart 

Frora the repose of its ashes 

For fiery torment 

Brought to life again, 

Trembles up ! 
Margaret 

Would that I were honce ! 

1 feel as if the organ 

Stifled my breath, 

As if the anthem 

Dissolved my heart 's core ! 
Chorus» 

Judex ergo cum sedebit, 

Quidquid latet adparebit, 

Nil inultum remanebit. 
Margaret, 

I feel so thronged ! 

The wall-pillars 

Close on me ! 

The vaulted roof 

Presses on me ! — Air ! 
Evtl Spirit. ^ 

Hide thyself ! Sin and shame 

Kemain, unhidden. 

Air ? Light ? 

Woe to thee ! 
Chorus. 

Quid sum miser tunc dieturus? 



120 CATHEDRA!^ 

Quem patronum rogaturus ? 

Cum vix justus sit securuB. 
Uvil Spirit. 

The glorified from thee 

Avert their faces. 

The pure shudder 

To reach thee their hands. 

Woe ! 
Chorus, 

Quid sum miser tunc dictunis ? 
Margaret. 

Neighbour! your smelling-bottle ! 

\^Ske swoona away» 



121 



MAY-DAY NIGHT. 

THE HARTZ MOUNTAINS. 

District of Schirke and Elend. — Faust — Mfphistopheles. 

Mephistopheles. Do you not long for a broomstick ? 
Por my part, I should be glad of the roughest he-goat. 
Bv tbis road we are still far from our destination. 

Faulst. So long as 1 feel fresb upon my legs, tbis 
knotted stick suffices me. Wbat is tbe use of sborten- 
ing tbe way ? To creep along tbe labyrintb of 
the vales, and tben ascend tbese rocks, from wbicb 
tbe ever-bubbling spring daahes — tbis is tbe plea- 
sure wbicb giyes zest to sucb a path. Tbe spring 
is already weaving in tbe bircb trees, and even tbe 
pine is beginning to feel it, — ougbt it not to bave some 
effect upon our limbs ? 

Mephistopheles* Verily, I feel notbing of it. All is 
wintry in my body, and I sbould prefer frost and snow 
upon my patb. How raournfully tbe imperfect disk of 
tbe red moon rises witb belated glare ! and gives so 
bad a ligbt, tbat, at every step, one runs against a tree 
or a rock. Witb your leave, I will call a will-o'the- 
wisp. I see one yonder, burning rigbt merrily. Holloa, 
tbere, my friend ! may I entreat your Company ? Wby 
wilt tbou blaze away so uselessly ? Be so good as to * 
ligbt US up along bere. 

WiU-othe- Wisp. Out of reverence, I bope, I sball 
Bucceed in subduing my unsteady nature. Our course 
is ordinarily but a zigzag one. 

Mephistopheles, Ha! ba! youtbink toimitate men. 



,n »-i 



►. 






122 MAT-DAT NIGHT. 

But go straight, in the devil*s name, or I will blow 
your flickering life out. 

Will-oHhe-Wisp. I see well that you are master 
here, and will willingly accommodate myself to you. 
But consider ! the mountain is magic-mad to-night, 
and if a will-o'the-wisp is to show you the way, you 
muat not be too particular, 
Faust, Mephistopreles, Will-o^the-Wisp, in aUematmg wng. 

Into the sphere of dreams and enchantments, it 
seems, have we entered. Lead us right, and do yourself 
credit ! — that we may advance betimes in the wide, 
desolate regions. 

See trees after trees, how rapidly they move by ; 
and the cliffs, that bow, and the long-snouted rocks, 
how they snort, how they blow I 

Through the stones, through the turf, brook and 
brookling hurry down. Do I hear rusüing ? do I 
hear songs ? do I hear the sweet plaint of love ? — 
voices of those West days ? — ^what we hope, what we 
love ! And Echo, like the tale of old times, Bends 
back the sound. 

Tu-whit-tu-whoo — ^it sounds nearer ; the owl, the 
pewet, and the jay, — bare they all remained awake ? 
Are those Salamanders through the brake, with their 
long legs, thick paunches ? And the roots, like snakes, 
wind from out of rock and sand, and Stretch forth 
Strange filaments to terrify, to seize us : from coarse 
speckies, instinct with life, they set polypus-fibres for 
the traveller. And the mice, thousand-coloured, in 
whole tribes, through the moss and through the heath! 
And the glow-worms fly, in crowded swarms, a con- 
founding escort. 

But teil me whether we stand still, or whether we 
are moving on. Everything seems to tum round, 
— rocks and trees, which make grimaces, and the 



MAY-DAT NIGHT 123 

will-o*tlie-wisp8, which multiply, which swell tliem- 
selves out. 

Mephistopheles, Keep a stout hold of my skirt ! 
Here is a central peak, from which one sees with 
wonder how Mammon is glowing in the mountain. 

Faust, How ßtrangely a melancholy light, of morn- 
ing red, ^limmers through the mountain gorges, and 
^uivers even to the deepest recesses of the precipice. 
Uere rises a mine-damp, there float ezhalations. 
Here glow sparkles out of vapour and ganze, then 
steals along like a fine thread, and then again bursts 
forth like a fountain. Here it winds, a whole track, 
with a hundred veins, through the Valley ; and here, 
in the compressed corner, it scatters itself at once. 
There sparks are sputtering near, li£e golden sand 
upsprinkled. But, see ! the wall of rocks is on fire in 
all its height. 

Mephistopheles, Does not Sir Mammon illuminate 
his palace magnificently for this festival ? It is lucky 
that you have seen it. I abeady see traces of the 
boisterous guests. 

Faust How the storm-blast is raging through the 
air ! With what thumps it strikes against my neck ! 

Mephistopheles, You must lay hold of the old ribs 
of the rock, or it will hurl you down into this abyss. 
A mist thickens the night. Hark ! what a crashin o- 
through the forest ! The owls fly scared away. Hark, 
to the splintering of the pillars of the ever-green 
palaces ! the crackling and snapping of the bouorhs, 
the mighty groaning of the trunks, the creaking and 
yawning of the roots ! — All come crashing down, one 
over the other, in fearfuUy-confused fall ; and the 
winds hiss and howl through the wreck-covered ^aS»\ 
Dost thou hear voices aloft ? — in the distance ? — close 
at band ? — Aye, a raving witch-song streams along 
the whole mountain. 



i \ 



124 MAY-DAT NIGHT. 

TKe Witches, in chorus» To tbe Brocken the witchea 
repair ! The stubble is yellow, the sown-fields are 
green. There the huge multitude is assembled. Sir 
Urian sits at the top. On they go, over stone and 
stock ; the witch s, the he-goat ^s. 

Voices, Old Baubo comes aJone ; she rides upon a 
farrow-sow. 

Chorus, Then honour to whom honour is duel 
Mother Baubo to the front, and lead the way ! A 
proper sow and mother upon her,— lEen follows the 
whole swarm of witches. 

Voice. Which way did you come ? 

Voice, By Ilsenstein. I there peeped into the owl's 
nest. She gave me such a look ! 

Voice. Oh, drive to hell ! What a rate you are 
riding at I 

Voice, She has grazed nie in passing : only look 
at the wound ! 

Chonts of Witches, The way is broad — the way is 
long. What mad throng is this ? The fork sticks— 
the besom scratclies : the child is suffocated— the 
mother bursts. 

Wizards {half-chorus), We steal along like snails 
in their house ; the women are all before ; for, in 
going to the house of the wicked one, woman is a 
thousand steps in advarce. 

The other Half, We do not take that so precisely. 
The woman does it with a thousand steps ; but, let 
her make as much haste as she can, the man does it 
at a Single bound. 

Voices {above), Come with us, come with us, from 
Felsensee ! 

Voices (from helow), We should like to mount 
with you. We wash, and are thoroughly clean, but 
we are ever harren. 



MAY-DAY NIGHT. 125 

Boih CJtomses. The wind is still, the stars fly, 
^he melancholy moon is glad to hide herself. The 
niagic-choir sputters forth sparks by thousands in it3 
whizzing, 

Voice (from helow). Hold ! hold ! 

Voice (from above), Who calls there, from the cleft 
in the rock ? 

Voice (from below). Take me with you ! take me 
with you ! I have been mounting for three hundred 
years already, and cannot reach the top. I would fain 
be with my fellows. 

Both Choruses. The besom carries, the stick car- 
ries, the fork carries, the he-goat cairies. Who can- 
not raise himself to-night, is lost for ever. 

Demi- Witch (helow), I have been tottering after 
such a length of time ; — how far the others are a-head 
already ! I have no rest at home, — and don*t get it 
here neither. 

Chorus of Witches. The salve gives courage to the 
witches ; a rag is good for a sail ; every trough makes 
a good ship ; he will never fly, who flew not to-night. 

Both Choruses, And when we round the peak, 
sweep along the ground, and cover the heath far and 
wide with your swarm of witch-hood. 

lITiep let themselves dovm, 

Mephistopheles. There *s crowding and pushing, 
rustling and clattering ! There *s whizzing and 
t^A* t^rling, bustling and babbling! There 's glittering, 
sparkling, stinking, burning ! A true witch-element ! 
But stick close to me, or we shall be separated in a 
moment. Where art thou ? 

Faust (in the distance), Here ! 

Mephistopheles» What ! already tom away so far ? 
I must exert my authority as master. Room ! Squire 
Yoland comes ! Make roöm, sweet people, make 



} r : /' 



126 MAY-DAT NIGHT. 

room ! Here, Doctor, take hold of me ! and now, at 
oue bound, let us get clear of tbe crowd. It is too 
mad, even for the like of me. Hard by tbere, sbines 
sometbing with a peculiar ligbt. Sometbing attracts 
me towards tbose busbes. Come along, we will slip 
in tbere. 

Faitst. Tbou spirit of contradiction ! But go on ! 
tbou may'st lead me. But it was wisely done, to be 
sure ! We repair to tbe Brocken on Walpurgis* nigbt 
— tojtry and isolate ourselves wben we get here. 

Mephistopheks, Only see wbat variegated flames ! 
A merry club is met togetber. One is not alone in a 
small Company. 

Faust I sbould prefer being above, tbougb ! I 
already see flame and eddying snioke. Yonder tbe 
multitude is Streaming to tbe Evil One. Many a 
riddle must tbere be untied. 

Mephistophdes. And many a riddle is also tied 
anew. Let tbe great world bluster as it will, we will 
bere bouse ourselves in peace. It is an old saying, 
tbat in tbe great world one makes little worlds. 
Yonder I see young witches, naked and bare, and old 
ones, wbo prudently cover tbemselves. Be compliant, 
if only for my sake ; tbe trouble is small, tbe Sport is 
great. I bear tbe tuning of Instruments. Confounded 
j angle ! One must accustom oneself to it. Come 
along, come along ! it cannot be otberwise. I will go 
forward and introduce you, and I sball lay you under 
a fresb Obligation. Wbat sayest tbou, friend ? Tbis 
is no trifling space. Only look ! you can bardly see 
tbe end. A hundred fires are buming in a row. 
People are dancing, talking, cooking, drinking, love- 
making I Now teil me wbere anything better is to be 
found. 

FaiLsU To introduce us here, do you intend to pre- 
fecnt yourself as wizard or dev^il? 



MAT-DAT NiaHT, J 27 

Mephistopheles* In truth, I am much used to go 
incognito. But one shows one's Orders on gala dAys. 
I have no garter to distinguish me, but the cloven foot 
is held in high honour here. Do you see the anail 
there ? ehe comes creeping up, and with her feelers 
has ab*eady found out something in me. Even if I 
would, I could not deny myself here. But come ! we 
will go from fire to fire ; I will he the pander, and 
you ahall be the gallant. 

{To some who are sUting rotmd esepiring embers, 
Old gentlemen, what are you doing here at the 
extremity ? I should commend you, did I find you 
nicely in the middle, in the thick of the riot and 
youthful revelry. Every one is surely enough alone 
at home. 

General, Who can put his trust in nations, though 
he has done ever so much for them ? For with the 
people, as with the women, youth has always the 
Upper band. 

Minister, At present people are wide astray from 
the right path — the good old ones for me ! For, 
verily, when we were all in all, that was the true 
golden age. 

Parvenü* We, too, were certainly no fools, and 
often did what we ought not. But now every thing is 
turned topsy-turvy, and just when we wished to keep 
it firm, 

Author, Who now-a-days, speaking generally, likes 
to read a work of even moderate sense ? And as 
for the rising generation, they were never so mala- 
pert. 

Mephistopheles (wJu) all at once appears very old), 
I feel the people ripe for doomsday, now that I ascend 
the wUEh-mountain for the last time ; and because 
iny own cask runs thick, the world also is come to 
the dregs. 



128 ICAT-DAT NIGHT. 

Ä Witch (toÄo seüs oid doihes and frippery), Do 
iiot pass by in this manner, gentlemen ! Now is your 
time. Look at my wares attentively ; I have them 
of all 8orts. And yet there is nothing in my ehop — 
which has not its fellow upon earth — ^that has not, 
8ome time or other, wrought proper mischief to mau- 
kiüd and to the world. There is no dagger here, 
from which blood has not flowed ; no chalice, from 
which hot consumiug poison has not been poured iQto 
a healthy body ; no trinket, which has not seduced 
some amiable woman ; no sword, which has not cut 
some tie asunder, which has not perchance stabbed an 
adversary from behind. 

Mephistopheles. Cousin ! you understand but ill the 
temper of the times. Done, happened ! Happened, 
done ! Take to dealing in novelties ; novelties only 
have any attraction for us. 

Faust, If I can but keep my senses ! This is a fair 
with a vengeance ! 

Mephistopheles, The whole throng struggles up- 
wards. You think to shove, and you yourself are 
shoved. 

Faust. Who, then, is that ? 

Mephistopheles, Mark her well ! That is Lilith. 

Faust. Who? 

Mephistopheles. Adam*s flrst wife. Beware of her 
fair hair, of that omament in which she shines pre- 
eminent. . When she ensnares a young man with it, 
she does not let him off again so easily. 

Faust, There sit two, the old one with the young 
one. They have already capered a good bit ! 

Mephistopheles. That has neither stop nor stay to- 
night. A new dance is beginning ; come, we will 
set to. 

Faust {dancing with the young one). I had onoe 



MAY-DAT NIGHT. 129 

upon a time a fair dream. In it, I saw an apple-tree ; 
two lovely apples glittered on it : thej enticed me, I 
climbed up. 

The Fair One. You are very fond of apples, and 
have been so from Paradise downwards. I feel moved 
with joy, that my garden also bears such. 

Mephistophdes {with the old one). I had once upon 
a time a wüd dream. In it, I saw a cleft tree. It 

had a — — ; as it was, it pleased me 

notwithstanding. 

The Old One. I present my best respects to the 

knight of the cloven foot. Let him have a 

ready, if he does not fear . 

Prochtophantasmist, Confonnded mob ! how dare 
you ? Was it not long since demonstrated to you ? 
A spirit never Stands upon ordinary feet ; and you are 
actually dancing away, like us mortals ! 

The Fair One. What does he come to our ball for 
then? 

Faust (dancing). Ha ! He is absolutely everywhere. 
He must appraise what others dance ! If he cannot 
talk about erery step, the step is as good as never 
made at all. He is most vexed, when we go forwards. 
If you would but turn round in a circle, as he does in 
bis old mill, he would term that good, I dare say; par- 
ticularly were you to consult him about it. 

Procktcphantasmist, You are still there, then ! 
No, that is unheard of ! But vanish ! We have 
enlightened the world, you know ! That devil's crew, 
ihey pay no attention to rules. We are so wise, — 
and Tegel is haunted, notwithstanding ! How long 
have I not been sweeping away at the delusion ; and 
it neyer becomes clean ! It is unheard of ! 

Hie Fair One, Have done boring us here, at any 
rate, then ! 



i 






130 , r ^ MAY-DAT NIGHT. 

Prochtophantasmist, I teil von, Spirits, to joor 
faces, I endure not the despotism of the spirit. My 
spirit cannot exercise it. (The dancing goes on.) 
To-night, I see, I shall succeed in notliing ; but t 
am alwajs readj for a journey ^ and still hope, before 
my last step, to get the better of devils and poets. 

Mephistopheles. He will, fortbwith, seat himself in 
a puddle ; that is bis mode of sootbing himself; and 
when leeches have amused themselves on his mmp, 
he is cured of spirits and spirit. ( To Faust, who hos 
left the da.nce.) Why do you leave the pretty girl, 
who sung so sweetly to you in the dance ? 

Faust, Ah ! in the middle of the song, a red mouse 
jomped out of her mouth. 

Mephistcpheles. There is nothing out of the way in 
that. One must not be too nice about such matters. 
Enough that the mouse was not grey. Who cares 
for such things in a moment of enjoyment. 

Faibst Then I saw — 

Mephistophdes, What? 

Faust. Mephisto, do you see yonder a pale, fair 
girl, Standing alone and afar off ! She drags herseif 
but slowly from the place : she seems to move with 
fettered feet. I must own, she seems to me to resem- 
ble poor Margaret. 

Mephistopheles, Have nothing to do with that ! no 

' good can come of it to any one. It is a creation of 

.4 ' '^•^'* enchantment, is lifeless, — an idol. It is not well to 

meet it ; the blood of man thickens at its chill lock, 

and he is well nigh tumed to stone. Tou have heard, 

no doubt, of Medusa. 

Faust In truth, they are the eyes of a corpse, which 
there was no fond band to close. That is the bosom, 
which Margaret yielded to me ; that is the sweet 
body, which I enjoyed. 



MAY-DAY NIGHT. 131 

Mephistophdea. That is sorcery, thou easilj deluded 
fool ; for ehe wears to every one the semblance of bis 
bdoved. 

Faust. What bliss ! what suffering ! I cannot tear 
myself from that look. How strangely does a single 
red line, no tbicker tban tbe back of a knife, adom 
that lovely neck. 

M^histopheies, Right! I see it too. She can 
also carry her head uuder her arm, for Perseus has 
out it off for her. But evBr this fondness for delusion ! 
Gerne up the hill, howeyer ; here all is as merry as in 
the Prater ; and if I am not bewitched, I actusJly see 
a theatre. What is going on here, then ? 

Servihilis. They will recommence immediately. A 
new piece, the last of seven ; — it is the custom here 
to giye so many. A dilettante has written it, and 
dilettanti play it. Excuse me, Gentlemen, but I 
must be off. It is my dilettante office to draw up the 
curtain. 

Mephistopheles. When I find you upon the Blocks- 
berg, — that is just wliat 1 approve ; for this is the 
proper place for you. 



k2 



MAY-DAY NIGHT'S DREAM ; 

OK, 

OBERON AND TITANIA'S 

GOLDEN WEDDING-FEAST. 



135 



/. 



INTERMEZZO. 



Theatre-Manager. To-day we rest for once ; we, 
the brave sons of Mieding. Old mountain and damp 
daJe, — that is the wbole scenery ! 

Herald. Tbat the wedding-feast may be golden, 
fifty years are to be past ; but if the quarrel is over, 
I sball like the golden the better. (' ouux^ ,^t^! ^-r"-" h^'^>' 

Über an, If ye spirits are with me, this is the time 
to show it : the king and the queen, they are united 
anew. 

PtLck. When Puck comes and whirls himself about, 
and bis foot goes whisking in the dance, — hundreds 
come after to rejoice along with bim. 

ArieL Ariel awakes the song, in tones of heavenly . * 
purity ; bis music lures many tnfles, but it also lures **^ ^L, \ 
the fair. (>'' ''• ' 

Oberen. Wedded ones, who would agree, — ^let them 
take a lesson from us two. To make a couple love 
each other, it is only necessary to separate them. 

Titania, If the husband looks gru£^ and the wife 
be whimsical, take hold of both of them immediately. 
Conduct me her to the South, and him to the ex- 
tremity of the North. 

Orchestra-TuUi (Fortissimo). Flies' snouts, and 
gnats' noses, with tbeir kindred ! Frog in the leaves, 
and cricket in the grass : they are the musicians. 

Solo. See, here comes the bagpipe ! It is the 



t V 



HO INTERMEZZO. 

soap-bubble. Hark to the Schn^ke-schnicke-schnack 
through its snub-nose. 

Spirit that is fdshioning iUelf. Spider's foot and 
toad's bellj, and Httle wings for the little wight ! It 
does not make an animalcule, it is true, but it makes 
a little poem. 

A Pair of Ltyoers, Little step and high boond, 
yi^<«^ through honey-dew andtiexhalatigns. Truly, you trip 
cOc-^^ ■ it me enough, but you do not mount into the air. 

Inquisitive Traveller. Is not this masquerading- 
mockery ? Can I believe my eyes ? To see the 
beauteous god. Oberen, here to-night, too I 

Orthodox. No claws, no tail ! Yet it Stands be- 
yond a doubt that, even as " The Gods of Tjreece,*' 
so is he too a devil. 

Northern Artist. What I catch, is at present only 
sketch-ways as it were ; but I prepare myself be- 
times for the Italian journey. 

Purist. Ah ! my iU-fortune brings me hither ; what 
a constant scene of rioting I and of the whole host of 
witches, only two are powdered. 

Young Witch. Powder as well as petticoats are 
for little old and grey women. Therefore I sit naked 
upon my he-goat, and show a stout body. 

Matron. We have too much good-breeding to 
squabble with you here. But I hope you will rot, 
young and delicate as you are. 

Leader of the Band. Flies* snouüi and gnats' noses, 
^ ■ , don*t swarm so about the naked.^ Frog in leaves, 

^ r ** ^'^ and cricket in the grass^ aCJontmue, however, to 
keep time, I heg of you/ 

tVeathercock {towards one side) Company to 
one's heart's content !. Truly, nothing but brides ! 
and young bachelors, man for man ! the hopefullest 
people I 



INTERMEZZO. 137 

Weathercock {toimrds the other aide). And if the 
ground does not open, to swallow up all of them — 
with a quick run, I will immediatelj jump into hell. 

Xenien. We are here as insects, with litüe sharp 
nehs, to honour Satan, our worshipfol papa, according 
tolBs dignity. 

Henningg, See ! how naively they joke together in 
a crowded troop. They will e'en say in the end, that 
they had good hearts. 

Musaget, I hke fuU well to lose myself in this host 
of witches ; for, troly, I should know how to manage 
these better than Muses. 

Ci-devant Genius oftJie Age. With proper people, 
one becomes somebody. Come, take hold of my 
skirt ! The Blocksberg, like the German Pamassus, 
has a very broad top. 

Inquisitvoe Traveller. Teil me what is the name of 
that stiff man. He walks with stiff steps. He snuf- 
fles everything he can snuffle* '' He is scenting out 
Jesiiits." 

The Crane. I like to fish in dear and even in trou- 
bled waters. On the same principle you see the pious 
gentlemen associate even with devils. 

Worldling. Aye, for the pious, behere me, every 
thing is a vehicle. They actually form many a con- 
yenticle, here upon the Blocksberg. 

Daneer, Here is surely a new choir Coming ! I 
hear distant drums. But don't disturb yourselves ! 
there are single-toned bittems among the reeds. 

Dancing Masler.* How each throws up bis legs ! 
gets on as best he may ! The crooked jumps, the 
dumsy hops, and asks not how it looks, 

JFiddler. How deeply this pack of ragamuffins hate 

* This and the foüowing stanza were added in ihe last complete 
Edition of Goethe^s Works. 



138 INTERMEZZO. 

each other, and how gladly they would give each other 
the finishing blow I The bagpipe unites them here, 
as Orpheus' lyre the beasts. 

Dogmatist. I will not be put out of my opinion, 
not by either critics or doubts. The devil, though, 
must be something ; for how eise could there be 
devils? 

Idealist, Phantasy, this once, is really too mas- 
terful in my mind. Tnily, if I be that All, I must 
be beside myself to-day. 

Mealist Entity is a regulär plague to me, and 
cannot but vex me much. I stand here, for the £rst 
time, not firm upon my feet. 

Supematuralist. I am greatly pleased at being 
here, and am delighted with these ; for, from devils, 
I can certainly draw conclusions as to good spirits. 

Sceptic. They foUow the track of the flame, and 
believe themselves near the treasure. Only doubt 
(zweifel) rhymes to devil {teufel). Here I am quite at 
home. 

Leader of the Band. Frog in the leaves, and 
ericket in the grass ! Confounded dilettanti ! Flies' 
snouts and gnats' noses ; you are fine musicians ! 

The Knowing Ones. Sansoicci, that is the name 
of the host of merry creatures. There is no longer 
any Walking upon feet, wherefore we walk upon our 
heads. 

The Maladroit Onea. In times past we have 
sponged mß,ny a tit-bit ; but now, good bye to all 
that ! Our shoes are danced through ; we run on 
bare soles. 

WiUr-o^the-Wispa, We come from the bog, from 
which we are just sprung ; but we are the glittering 
gallants here in the dance directly. 

Star-Shoot, From on high, in star-and-fire-light, I 



INTEBMEZZO. 139 

shot hitber. I am now Ijing crooked-wajs in the 
grass ; who will help me upon my legs ? 

The Massive Ones, Boom ! room ! and round 
about! so down go the grass-stalks. Spirits aro 
Coming, but spirits as they are, tbey have plmnp 
limbs. 

Puck. Don't tread so beavily, like elepbants' 
calves ; and tbe plumpest on tbis day be tbe stout 
Puck bimself. 

Ariel, If kind nature gave — if tbe spirit gave 
you wings, follow my ligbt track up to tbebül of 
roses ! 

Orchestra, {pianissimö), Drifting clouds, and 
wreatbed mists, brigbten from on bigh ! Breeze 
in the leaves, and wind in tbe msbes, and all is 
dissipated! 



140 



A GLOOMY DAY.— OPEN COUNTRY. 

Faust. — Mbphistophklbs. 

Faust In miserj ! Despairiug ! Long a wretched 
Wanderer upon the earth, and now a prisoner ! The 
dear, unhappj being, cooped up in the dungeon, as a 
malefactor, for horrid tortures ! Even to that ! to 
that ! Treacherous, worthless spirit, and this hast 
thou concealed from me I Stand, only stand ! roll thy 
devilish ejes infuriated in thy head ! Stand and brave 
me with thy unbearable presence ! A prisoner ! In 
irremediable misery ! Given over to evil spirits, and 
to sentence-passing, unfeeling man ! And me, in the 
mean time, hast thou been lulling with tasteless dissi- 
pations, concealing her ^owing wretehedness from 
me, and leaving her to perish without help. 

Mephistophdes. She is not the first. 

Faust, Dog ! horrible monster ! — Tum him, thou 
Infinite Spirit ! turn the reptile back again into bis 
dog*8 shape, in which he was often pleased to trot 
before me by night, to roll before the feet of the 
harmlesB wanderer, and fasten on bis Shoulders when 
he feil. Tum him again into bis favourite shape, that 
he may crouch on bis belly before me in the sand, 
whilst I spum him with my foot, the reprobate I Not 
the first ! Wo ! wo ! It is inconceivable by any 
human soul, that more than one creature should bare 
sunk into such a deptb of misery, — ^that the first, in 
its writhing-death-agony, was not sufficient to atone 
for the guilt of all the rest in the sight of the Ever- 






OPEN COUNTRT. 141 

pardoning. It harrows up my marrow and my yery 
life, — ^the misery of this one : Üiou art grinning away 
calmly at the fate of thousands. 

Mephistopheles. Now are we already at our wits' end 
again ! just where the sense of your mortals snaps 
with oyerstrainmg. Why dost thou enter into fellow- 
ship with HB, if thou canst not go through with it ? 
Wül'st fly, and art not safe from dizziness ? Did we 
force ourselves on theo, or thou thyself on us ? 

Faust, Gnash not thy greedy teeth thus defyingly 
at me ! I loathe theo ! Great, glorious Spirit, thou 
who deignedst to appear to me, thou who knowest my 
heart and my soul, why yoke me to this shame-fellow 
who feeds on mischief, and battons on destruction ! 

Mephistopheies. Hast done ? 

Faitst. Save her ! or woe to thee ! The most 
horrible curse on thee for thousands of years ! 

Mephistopheles, 1 cannot loosen the shackles of the 
avenger, nor undo his bolts. — Save her I — Who was 
it that plunged her into ruin ? I or thou ? 

[Faust looka wüdly ar<nmd, 
Art thou grasping affcer the thunder ? Well, that it is 
not giyen to you wretched mortals ! To dash to pieces 
one who replies to you in all innocence— that is just 
the tyrant's way of venting himself in peiplexities. 

Fattst. Bring me thither ! She shall be free ! 

Mephistopheles, And the danger to which you 
ezpose yourself ? Know, the guilt of blood, froxa 
your hand, still lies upon the town. Avenging spirits 
hover over the place of the slain, and lie in wait for 
the retuming murderer. 

Faust, That, too, from thee ? Murder and death 
of a World upon thee, monster ! Conduct me thither, 
I say, and free her ! 

Mephistopheles, 1 will conduct thee, and what I can. 



142 OPBN OOUNTBY. 

hear ! Have I all power in heaven and upon earth ? 
I will cloud the gaoler*s senses ; do you possess yonr- 
Belf of the keys, and bear her off with human band. 
I will wateh ! The magic horses will be ready, I will 
bear you off. This mach I can do. 
Fauä. Up and away ! 



143 



NIGHT.— A COMMON. 

Faust and Mepristopheles rushmg along upon hldck horses. 

Faust, What are they working — ^those about the 
Ravenstone yonder ? 

Mephistopheles, Can't teil -wliat they're cooking 
and making. 

Faust, Are waving upwards — ^waving downwards 
— ^bending — stooping. 

Mephistopheles, A witch Company. 

Faust, They are sprinkling and channing. 

Mephistopheles, On ! on ! 



144 



DUNGE OK 

Faust {rmth a hunch of keys and a lamp, before 
an iron wichet). A tremor, long unfelt, seizes me; 
the coDcentrated miserj of mankind fastens on me. 
Here, behind these damp walls, is her dwelling- 
place, and her crime was a good delusion ! Thou 
hesitatest to go to her ! Thou fearest to see her again ! 
On ! thy irresolution lingers death hitherwards. 

[JSe takea hold ofthe locJc, — Singing wWdiu 

My mother, the whore, 

That kUled me ! 

My father, the rogue^ 

That ate me up ! 

My little sister 

Picked up the bones 

At a cool place I 

There I became a beautiM little wood-bird. 

Fly away ! fly away ! 

Faust {opening the lock), She has no presentiment 
that her lover is listening, hears the chains dank, the 
straw rustle. iHe erum. 

Margaret (hiding her face in the hed of straw). 
Woe ! woe ! They come. Bitter death ! 

Faiist {sofdy), Hush I hush ! I come to free thee. 

Margaret {throwing herseif before Mm), If thou 
art human, feel for my wretchedness. 

Faust, You will wake the guard by your cries ! 

Iffe takes hold of the cha'ma to v/aloek them, 

Margaret {an her knees). Who has given you, 



DÜNGEON. 145 

headsman, this power over me? You come for me 
whilst it is yet midnight. Be merciful and let me 
live. Is not to-morrow morning soon enough ? 

IShe atcmds vp, 

I am yet so yonng, so young! and am to die already! 
I was fair, too, and that was my undoing ! My true- 
love was near — ^he is now far away. Tom lies my 
garland, scattered the flowers. Don't take hold of 
me so roughly ! Spare me ! What have I done to 
you ? Let me not implore in vain ! I never saw you 
before in all my lifo, you know ! 

I^aitst Can I endure this misery ! 

Margaret I am now entirely in thy power. Only 
let me first give suck to the child. I pressed it this 
whole night to my heart. They took it away to vex 
* me, and now say I kiUed it. And I shall never be 
happy again. They sing songs upon me ! It is 
wieked of the people. An old tale ends so, — ^who bids 
them apply it ? 

Faust (throws himselfon the ground), A lover lies 
at thy feet, to unloose the bonds of wretchedness. 

Margaret (throws herseif hy his side)> Ay, let us 
kneel to invoke the saints. See, under these steps, 
under the threshold, hell is seething ! The Evil One, 
with fearful fury, is making a din. 

Faust {passionately), Margaret ! Margaret ! 

Margaret {listening). That was my true-love's voice. 
( 87ie Springs up. The chainsfall off), Where is he? 
I heard him call. I am free ! Nobody shall hinder 
me. I will fly to his neck ! lie on his bosom ! He 
ealled Margaret ! He stood upon the threshold. In 
the midst, through the howling'and clattering of hell, 
through the grim, devilish scofling, I knew the sweet, 
the loving tone again. 

Faust, 'Tisl. 



146 DUNGEOX. 

Margaret. 'Tis thou ! Ab, say so once again ! 
(Glasping Kim), 'Tis he ! 'Tis he ! Whither is all 
my wretchedness ? Whither the agony of the dun- 
geon ?— ^the chains ? 'Tis thou ! Thou com' st to 
save me. I am saved ! — There again already is the 
Street, where I saw thee for the first time ; and the 
cheerful garden, where I and Martha waited for thee. 

Faust {striving to take her away), Come ! come 
with me ! 

Margaret. Oh stay ! I like to stay where thou 
stayest. iCwresaing kirn, 

Faust, Haste ! If you do not make haste, we shall 
pay dearly for it. 

Margaret, What ! you can no longer kiss ? So 
short time away from me, my love, and already for- 
gotten how to kiss ! Why do I feel so sad upon your 
neck ? when, in other times, a whole heaven came ^ 
over me from your words, your looks ; and you kissed 
me as if you were going to smother me ! Kiss me ! 
or I will kiss you ! (She embraces Mm,) woe ! 
your Ups are cold, — are dumb. Where have you left 
your love ? who has robbed me of it ? 

[She iwms from htm. 

Faust Come ! follow me ! take courage, my love. 
I will press thee to my heart with thousandfold warmth 
— only follow me ! I ask thee but this. 

Margaret [twming to him). And is it thou, theu ? 
And is it thou, indeed ? 

Faust. 'Tis I. Come along ! 

Margaret. You undo my fetters, you take me to 
your bosom again ! How comes it that you are not 
afraid of me ? And do you then know, my love, 
whom you are freeing ? 

Faust. Come, come ! the depth of night is already 
passing away. 



DÜNGEON. 147 

Margaret, I have killed my mother, I have drowned 
mj child. Was it not bestowed on theo and me ? — 
on thee, too ? 'Tis thou ! I scarcely believe it. Give 
me thj hand. It is no dream — tliy dear hand ! — but 
ob, 'tis damp ! Wipe it ofF. It seems to mc as if 
thcre was blood on it. Ob, God ! wbat bast tbou 
done ? Put up tby sword ! I pray tbee, do ! 

Faust Let wbat is past, be past. Tbou wilt kill me. 

Margaret, No, you must remain bebind. I will 
describe tbe graves to you ! you must see to tbem tbe 
first tbing to-morrow. Give my motber tbe best place ; 
— my brotber close by ; — ^me, a little on one side, only 
not too far off ! And tbe little one on my rigbt breast ; 
no one eise will lie by me. To nestle to fÄy side, — 
tbat was a sweet, a dear deligbt ! But it will never 
be mine again. I feel as if I were irresistibly drawn 
to you, and you were tbrusting me off. And yet, 'tis 
you ; and you look, so kind. 

Faust, If you feel tbat 'tis I, come along. 

Margaret, Out tbere ? 

Faust. Into tbe free air ! 

Margaret, If tbe grave is witbout, if deatb lies in 
wait, — tben come ! Hence into tbe eternal resting- 
place, and not a step furtber. — Tbou art now going 
away ? Henry, could I but go too ! 

Faust, Tbou canst ! Only consent ! Tbe door 
Stands open. 

Margaret, I dare not go out ; tbere is no bope for 
me ! Wbat avails it flying ? Tbey are lying in wait for 
me. It is so miserable to be obliged to beg, — and 
witb an evil conscience, too. It is so miserable to 
wander in a stränge land, — and tbey will catcb me, do 
as I will. 

Faust, I sbaU be witb tbee. 

Margaret, Quick, quick! Save tby poor cbild. 

l2 



148 DÜNGEOK« 

Away! Keep the path up by the brook — over the 
bridge — into the wood — ^to the leffc where the plank 
is — in the pond. Only quick and catch hold of it ! it 
tries to rise ! it is stiÜ struggling ! Help I help ! 

Faust, Be calm, I pray I Only one step, and thou 
art free. 

Margaret, Were we but past the hill ! There sits 
my molher on a stone — my brain grows chill I — there 
Bits my mother on a stone, and waves her head to and 
fro. She beckons not, she nods not, her head is 
heavy ; she slept so long, she '11 wake no more. She 
slept that we might enjoy ourselves. Those were 
pleasant times ! 

Faust As no prayer, no persuasion, is here of any 
avail, I will risk the bearing thee away. 

Margaret. Let me go ! No, I endure no violence ! 
Lay not hold of me so murderously ! Time was, you 
know, when I did all to pleasure you. 

Faust, The day is dawning ! My love ! my love ! 

Margaret Day ! Yes, is growing day ! The last 
day is breaking in ! My wedding-day it was to be ! 
Teil no one that thou hadst been with Margaret 
already. Woe to my garland ! It is all over now ! 
We shall meet again, but not at the dance. The 
crowd thickens; it is not heard. The square, the 
streets, eannot hold them« The bell tolls ! — the staff 
breaks ! How they bind and seize me ! Already am 
I hurried off to the blood-seat ! Already quivering for 
every neck is the sharp steel which quivers for mine. 
Dumb lies the world as the grave ! 

Faust, Oh that I had never been born ! 

Mephistopheies (appears without), üp ! or you are 
lost. Vain hesitation ! Lingering and prattling ! My 
horses shudder ; the morning is gloaming up. 

Margaret, What rises up from the floor? He! 



DUNGEON. 149 

He ! Send him away I What would he at the holy 
place ? He would me ! 

Faust. Thou ehalt live I 

Margaret. Judgment of God ! I have given myself 
up to thee. 

Mephistophdes (to Faust). Come ! come ! I will 
leave you in the scrape with her. 

Margaret. Thine am I, Father ! Save me, ye 
Angela ! Ye Holy Hosts, ränge yourselves round 
about, to guard me ! Henry I I tremble to look 
upon thee. 

MepMstopheles. She is judged ! 

Voicefrom dbove. Is saved. 

MepMstopheles {to Faust). Hither to me I 

[Disappeara with Faust. 
Voicefrom withiny dying away* Henry I Henry ! 



l 



NOTES. 



NOTES. 



Page 1. They hear not ihe following lays — tJie touü to toJiom 
Isang myfirtt. — To undentand the Dedication, it is necessarj to 
refer to the history of the book. The plan of " Faust " appears to 
have been in Goethe*8 mind very early in life. In the list appended 
to the Stuttgart and Tubingen octavo edition of 1819, he puts it 
downamong the works written between 1769 and 1775. In the 
second part of the XHdUwng und Wahrheit (Book 18), he states 
thathe shewed the newestscenes of "Faust" to Elopstock, who ex- 
pressed himself much pleased, and (contrary to his custom) spoke 
of the poem with dedded commendation to others. This must have 
taken place early in the year 1775. Maler Müller also, in the 
prefatory epistle to his ** Faust," published about 1778, mentions 
B report that Goethe and Lessing were engaged upou the same sub- 
ject. The poem was first published in 1790, and forms the com- 
menoement of the seventh yolume of Goethe*» Schriften : Wien 
md Ldpüg^ hey J. Stahel und O, J, QöscheUy 1790. This edition 
is now before me. The poem is entitled, Fauit : Ein Fragment 
( not Doktor Fa/ustj Ein Trauerspiel, as Döring says), and contains 
no prologue or dedication of any sort. It commences with the 
Bcenc in Faust's study, ante, p. 13, and is continued as now dovi-n 
to tke passage ending ante, p. 19, 1. 26. In the original, the line — 

^ Und fi-oh ist, wenn er Regenwürmer findet" — 

ends the soene. The nezt scene is one between FailSt and Mephi»- 
topfaeles, and hefpna thus: — 

Faust. 
* * « * «41 * 

^ Und was der ganzen Menschheit zugetheilt ist" — 

i.e., with the passage (ante, p. 52), beginning : — ** I will enjoy in 
my own heart^s core all that is parcelled out amongst mankind," 
&c. All that intervenes in later editions ig wanting. It is thence* 
forth continued as now to the end of the Cathedral scene {ante, 
p. 120) ; except that the whole scene in which Valentine is killed, is 



154 NOTES. 

wanting. Tims Margiiret^s prayer to the Virgin, aud the Catbednu 
scene, comc toget^er and form the conclusion of the work. Accord- 
ing to Döring''s Verzeichniss, there was no new edition of ** Faust** 
until 1807. According to Dr. Stieglitz, the Fiwt Part of " Faust " 
fiist appeared in its present shape in the coUected edition of 
Goethe^s works which was published in 1808. I applied to Cotta, 
but could get no definite Information as to the point, nor have 
] been yet fortunate enoagh to meet wlth the edition in question. 
Since this was written, I have been favoured by a communication 
from M. Yaruhi^n von Ense, in the course of which he states tliat 
the First Part firet appeared in the edition of Goethe*8 works pub- 
lished in duodecimo in 1807 and in octavo in 1808. From the 
correspondence between Zelter and Goethe, however, it wonld seem 
that this edition did not appear until 1 808 ; for in a letter, datpd 
July 13th, 1808, we find Zelter acknowledging the rec«ipt of tbe 
completed " Faust,** and requesting an explanation of the Intermezzo, 
which unluckily is not afforded to him.— (VoL i. p. 322.) 

P. 3. Prohffuefor the I%ecUre. — It must be bome in mind 
that the theatre is one of those temporary theatres or booths which 
are common at fairs, and l^at the Company is supposed to be an 
itinerant one. 

P. 3. Pleasing cmd instructive at once. — 

" Omne tulit punctum qui miscuit utile duld.** — 

fforcLce. 
P. 4. People come to loch, — 

'* Segnius irritant animos demissa per aurei, 
Quam quse sunt oculis subjecta fidelibus, et quie 
Ipse sibi tradit spectator." — fforace, 

P. 4. Who hrings much, vnU "bring something to many a 
one. — *'La Com^die des Visionnaires nous r^jouit beaueoup: 
nous trouvames que c*e8t la representation de tout le monde ; chacun 
a ses visions plus ou tnoins marquees.** — Madame de SevignL 

P. 5. JBegoTie, Ac. — Compare Wükdm Meister (Book ii. eh. 
ii.), in which somewhat similar notions of the poet^s vocation are 
put into the mouth of the hero. 

P. 6. Mv/ih falsekood and a »park of truth. — ^** I cannot 
teil why, this same truth is a naked and open daylight, that doth 



NOTES. 155 

not show tlte masques, and mummeries, and triumphs of the present 
World, half so statcly and daintily as candle-lights. Truth may 
perhaps come to the price of a pearl, that showeth hest by day ; but 
it will not rise to the price of a diamond or carbuncle, which show- 
eth best in varied lights. A niixture of lies doth ever add pleasure. 
Doth any man doubt, that, if there were taken from men's minda 
vain opinions, üattering hopes, false valuations, imaginations,a« one 
VHmidf and the like vinum Daemonum (as a Father called poetry), 
but it would leave the minds of a nuniber of men poor shrunken 
things, fuU of melancholy and indisposition, and unpleasing to thcm- 
selves ?** — Lord Bacon, guoted in The Fi'iend, voL i. p. ö. 

P. 7. That^ old gentlemeriy is your duty. — It was a favourite 
theory of Goethe, that the power of calling up the most vivid emo- 
tions was in no respect impaired by age, whilst the power of pour^ 
traying them was greatly improved by experience. 

** To carry on the feelings of childhood into the powers of man- 
hood, to combine the child's sense of wonder and novelty with the 
appcarances, whxh every day for perhaps forty years had rendercd 
familiär, — 

Both snn and moon, and stars, throughout the year, 
And man and women, — 

this is the character and privilege of G^enius, and one of the marks 
which distinguish genius from talent/* — Ooleridg<^8 Biog, IM, 

P. 8. Use the greaier cmd the lesser ligTU of hetvoen, — *^ And 
God made two great lights ; the greater light to rule the day, and tho 
lesser light to rule the night ; he made the stars also/* — Oen, i. 17. 

^ Und Gott machte zwey grosse Lichter : ein grosses Licht, das 
den Tag regiere, und ein kleines Licht, das die Nacht regiere ; dazu 
auch Sterne.'' — Xw^Äer*« Trandatum, 

P. 9. Proloffue in ffeaven. — The idea of this prologue is 
taken from the Book of Job, chapters Ist and 2nd. ** Itis worthy 
of remark,'* says Dr. Schubart, " that in the guise in which the 
poet introduces bis Mephistophefes, a great difference is to be seen 
between bis mode of treating the priuciple of evil, and that foUowed 
by Klopstock, Milton, aud Tjord Byron in Cain. It has also been 
a matter of course, to hold to one side only of the biblical tradition, 
which represents Satan as an angel of light fallen through pride and 
haughtiness, endeavouring to disturb the glorious creation of the 
Supreme Being. Goe^e, on the contrary, ha« adhered rathcr to 



156 NOTES. 

tbe other side of the tradition, of which tho Book of Job is the 
groundwork, according to which Satan or the Devil forms one of 
the Lord*s Host, not as a rebel against his will, but as a powerfii] 
tempter, authorised and appointed as such,'* &c. — ( VorU^imgm), 
We are also called upon to admire the propriety of the parte 
assigned to the Archangels in the introductory song. Dr. Hinrichs 
shows some anxiety to establish that The Lord depicted by Goethe, 
is the Lord of Christianity. On this subject he has the following 
note :—« That The Lord in this poem is tbe Christian God, and 
therefore the Dirine Spirit, Cornelius also signifies in the title-page 
of his lUustrations of Faust, where the Lord, in the middle of an 
nnequal Square, begirt by a half-circle of angels, bears the triple 
crown upon bis head, and the terrestrial globe in his left band ; 
whilst in RetzscVs lUustrations of Faust, the Lord without the 
triple crown and the cross, does not express the Christian God, and 
for that reason the conception is not embraced by it." — VorU- 
awngen, p. 36. 

Mr. Heraudy the writer of the able article in Fraser's Magazme, 
quotedjpo«^, p. 158, says that Der Herr means the Second Person 
of the Trinity. It would be difficult to reconcile this notion with 
the supposed analogy to the Book of Job. 

^ P. 9. The Swn chimes in, as ever, with the eimUovs musie of 
his hrollier tpheres, — 

** Such music (aa 'tis said) 
Before was never made, 
But when of old the sons of inoming sung, 
While the Creator great 
His constellatioDs set, 

And the well-balanced world on binges buug, 
And cast the dark foundations deep. 
And bid the welt'ring waves their oozy Channel kcep. 
Ring out, ye crystal spheres, 
Once bless our human ears, 
(If ye have power to toucb our senses so). 
And let your silver chime 
Move in melodious time, 
And let the base of Heav'n's deep organ blow • 
And with your nine-fold harmony 

Make up füll concert to tb' angelic sympbony.*' 

MiUon. 

Herder, in bis comparison of Klopstock and Milton, has said :— 



NOTES. 157 

" A Single ode of Klopstock outweigbs the whole lyric literature of 
Britain." I know nothing of Klopstock's that would oatweigh 
this Single hymu on tbe Nativitj. 

P. 9. JBtU thy mesaengerSf Lordy respect the mild going of 
thy day. — " Canst thou send lightnings, that they may go, and say 
unto them, Here we are ? " — Job, xxxviiL 35. " And of the 
angels he saith, Who maketh his angels spirits» and bis ministers a 
flame of fire.'* — St, Paid, Heb. i. 7. 

" Tbe sigbtless couriers of the eartb." — 

Macbethf Act 1, Scene 7* 

** The day is placid in its going, 
To a lingering sweetness bound, 
Like a river in its flowing." — Woo'dsworth, 

P. 11. Ä good mam, wi Ms darh strimngs, dkc. — Drang in 
this passage is untranslatable, though tbe meaning is clear. In ren- 
dering it as above, I had the striving of jarring impvZses (Cole- 
ridge's Aids) in my mind. The same exalted confidence in human 
nature is expressed in anotber passage of Goetbe^s works : — 

** Wenn einen Menschen die Natur erhoben, 
Ist es kein Wunder, wenn ihm viel gelingt ; 
Mann muss in ihm die Macht des Schöpfers loben 
Der schwachen Thon zu solcher Ehre bringt : 
Doch wenn ein Mann von allen Lebensproben 
Die sauerste besteht, sich selbst beswingt ; 
Dann kann man ihn mit Freude Andern zeigen. 
Und sagen : Das ist es, das ist sein eigen.** — 

Gekdmniase, 

P. ] 1, The scoffer is the least offensive to me. — ^This does not 
convey tbe. character of Mephistopheles, nor is there any English 
Word that would. Tbe meaning must be : I prefer a malicious, 
roguish devil who laugbs or scofis at my works, to one who openly 
defies. 

P. 12. The creaiive essence, Ac. — It is quite impoesible to 
translate this passage, and I bave never seen a satisfactory explana- 
tion of it Das Werdende is literally The JBecoming, but werden 
is ratber the Greek yivofMi than the English to become. The 
Greek word eyevero (says Mr. Coleridge) unites in itself the two 



158 NOTES. 

senses of began to exUt and imu made to exist : it cxemplifies the 
force of the middle voice, in distinction from the verb reflex. — 
Äida to Befiectumy 2nd edit p. 18. 

One friend, whom I consulted about this passage, sent me the 
following Version : — ^ Creation^s energy— ever active and alive — 
encircle you with the joyous bounds of love — and that which fiits 
before you, a fluent and changeful phantom, do ye fix by the power 
of enduring thonght ! ** 

Mr. Carlyle interpreted it ihus : — ** There ia clearly no trans- 
lating of these lines, especially on the spur of the moment ; yet, it 
seems to me the meaning of them is pretty distinct The Lord 
has just remarked, that man (poor fellow) needs a devil, as tra- 
yelling companion, to spur him on by means of Denial ; whereupon, 
tuming round (to the angcls and other perfect characters) he adds, 
* But ye, the genuine sons of Heaven, joy ye in the living fulness 
of the beautiful*(not of the logical, practica!, contradictory, wherein 
man toils imprisoned) ; ' let Being (or EIxistence) which is every- 
where a glorious birth into higher Being, as it for ever works and 
lives, encircle you with the soft ties of Love; and whatsoever 
wavers in the doubtful empire of appearance^ (as all earthly things 
do), ' that do ye by enduring thought make fii*m.* Thus would 
Das Werdende^ the thing that is a being (is o-being), meau no less 
than the universe (the visible universe) itself ; and I paraphrase it 
by ' EbListenoe which is everywhere a birth into higher Existence' 
(or in some such way), and make a comfortable enough kind of 
sense out of that quatrain.*^* 

** A trifle more acquaintance with theology and German philo- 
■ophy (says Mr. Heraud) would have saved a deal of the trouble 
thus taken ; nor would some attention to the character of the Speaker 
and the nature of the occasion have been quite useless. The Speaker 
is the second persou in the Trinity, and the occasion is the breaking 
up of the sacred assembly, and the words which he is made to utter 
are intended for the Divine benediction at parting, in which he 
formally leaves them, to comfort them for his absence, accörding to 
the Scripture rule of proceeding, the loving influences of the Holy 
Spirit. The desire to be familiär in this dialogue — to make it 
dramatic rather than sacred — led Goethe to avoid reli^ous terms 
of expression ; and therefore he preferred the phrase, * the becom- 
ing, that ever operates and lives,* to the ' fellowship or blessing of 
the Holy Ghost,* and similar modes of address which are conseciated 
to the Service of public worship. * The becoming' {dtu Werdende) 
is of course that which becomes— -I.e., that which continually passet 

* The passage in the original consists of fonr lines. 



NOTES. 159 

from one State to another, wbose essence it is to do so. This is 
andoubtedlj tbe office of the third penon in the Trinitj. The Lord, 
therefore, leaves and dismisses tbe angelic assemblj witb a bene- 
diction recommending tbem to tbat divine influence wbicb proceeds 
from tbe Fatber to tbe Son, and from botb in an etemal procession, 
an operative and living principle, to wbatsoever works and lives. 
This spirit he desires to remain "with tbem, and to encompass tbem 
witbin tbe gentle enclosures of love.'* — Fraser*8 Magazine for 
May, 1832. 

Should anj one tbink I am bestowing too much space npon a 
Single passage, I wouid beg leave to remind bim tbat tbe passage is 
a very Singular one, and tbat books have been written to fix tbe 
meaning of a phrase. Tbe most eminent men in Italj joincd in 
the controyersy as to tbe freddo e caldo polo of Monti. 

P. 12. I like to see the Ancient One occaaionaUy. — Shelley 
tnuislates den Alten, the Old Fellow. But tbe term may allude 
merely to *' Tbe Ancient of Days,** and is not necessarily a disre- 
spectfül one. A correspondent proposes The Old Gentleman. I 
am also told tbat der Alte is a släng cxpression for thefather. 

In allusion to Mepbistopheles* liking to see Tbe Lord occasion- 
ally, Dr. Hinnchs observes : — " A fallen angel, as Shakspearo 
himself says, is still au angel, who likes to sce tbe Lord occasion> 
ally, and avoids breaking witb bim, wherefore we find Mephisto- 
pheles in beaven amongst tbe host.*' — ^p. 37. 

Tlie foUowing passage occurs in Falk : — " Yet even tbe clever 
Madame de Stael was greatly scandalised tbat I (Goethe) kept the 
devil in such good-bumour. In tbe presence of God tbe Fatber, 
she insisted upon it, he ought to be more grim and spiteful. Wbat 

i will she say, if she sees bim promoted a step higher — ^nay, perbaps, 

i meets bim in beaven ?** 



P. 13. Firtt Soene, — Tbe opening scene is tbe only part in wbicb 
the Faustus of Marlow bears any similarity to tbe Faust of Goethe. 
I quote it, witb tbe Chorus, in wbicb an outline of the traditional 
storv is sketched : — 

Bnter Chorus. 

Not marching in the fields of Tharsimen, 
Whcre Mars did mate tbe warlike Cartbagen j 
Nor sporting in the dalliancc of love, 
In courts of kings, wbere State is overtumM , 
Nor in the pomp of proud audacious deeds, 
Intends our muse to vaunt bis heavenly vcrse ; 



160 NOTES. 

Only this, gentles, we must now perform, 
The form of Faustus* fortuaes, good or bad : 
And now to patient judgments we appeal, 
And speak for Faustus in his infancj : 
Now is he hörn of parents base of stock, 
In Germany, within a town callM Rhodes ; 
At riper ycars to Wittenburg he went ; 
So much he profits in divinity, 
That shortly he was graced with Doctor's name, 
Excelling all, and sweetly can dispute 
In th' heavenly matters of theology ; 
Till, swoln with cunning and a self-conceit, 
His waxeu wings did mount above his reach ; 
And melting heavens conspired liis overthrow ; 
For falling to a devilish ezercise, 
And glutted now with leaming^s golden gifts, 
He surfeits on the cursed necromancy. 
Nothing so sweet as magic is to him, 
Which he prefers before his chiefest bliss, 
Whereas bis kinsman chiefiy brought him up. 
And this the man that in his study sits. 



ACT THE FIRST.— SCENE I. 

Faustus in his Study, 

Faust. Settle thy studies, Faustus, and begin, 
To sound the depth of that thou wilt profess ; 
Having commenced, be a divine in show, 
Yet level at the end of every art, 
And live and die in Aristotle^s works. 
Sweet analytics, 'tis thou hast ravishM me. 
Bene disserere est fines logicis. 
Is, to dispute well, logicis chiefest end ? 
Afifbrds this art no greater miracle ? 
Then read no more ; thou hast attainM that end, 
A greater subject fitteth Faustus* wit : 
Bid economy farewell : and Galen come. 
Be a physician, Faustus; heapup gold, 
And be eteriiized for some wondrous eure ; 
Summen bonum medicinse sanitas ; 
The end of physic is our bodies' hcalth. 
Why, Faustus, hast thou not attain'd that etd? 



NOTES. 161 

Are not tby bilU hwig up as monuments, 
Whereby whole eitles have escaped the plague, 
And tliousand desperate maladies beeu cured ? 
Yet tbou art still but Faustus and a man. 
Could^st tbou make men to live eternally, 
Or, being dead, raise tbem to life agaiu, 
Then tbis profession were to be esteem'd. 
Physic, farewell ! Wbere is Justiniun ? 
Si una eademque res legatur duobus, 
Alter rem, alter valorem rei, &c. 
A petty case of paltry legacies. 
EIxbereditari filium non potest pater nisi, &c. 
Sucb is tbe subject of tbe Institute, 
And universal body of tbe law. 
Tbis study fits a mercenary drudge, 
Wbo aims at notbing but extemal trasb, 
Too servile and illiberal for me. 
Wben all is done, divinity is best 

Jerome^s Bible, Faustus : view it well. 
Stipendium peccati mors est : ba ! Stipendium, &c 
Tbe reward of sin is death : tbat^s bard. 
Si pecc&sse negamus, fallimur, et nuUa est in nobis veritas : 
If we say we bave no sin, we deceive ourselves and tbere 

is no trutb in us. 
Wby tben belike we must sin, 
And so consequently die. 
Ay, we must die an everlasting dentb. 
What doctrine call you tbis ? Cbe sera, sera : 
Wbat will be, sball be ; divinity, adieu ! 
Tbese metapbysics of magicians, 
And necromantic books are heavenly ! 
Lines, circles, lettei*s, cbaracters : 
Ay, tbese are those tbat Faustus most desires. 
Ob I wbat a world of profit and delight, 
Of power, of bonour, and omnipotence, 
Is promised to the studious arüsan ! 
All tbings tbat move between tbe quiet pole, 
Sball be at my command. Emperors and kings 
Are but obey'd in tbeir several provinces ; 
But bis dominion tbat exceeds in tbis, 
Stretcbes as far as dotb tbe miud of man : 
A sound magician is a demigod. 

Here tire my brains to get a dcity. [Enter Waoner. 

— Marlow*8 Works, vol. ii. 

M 



162 NOTES. 

The commencement of Lord Bjrron^s Manfired is clearly traoo« 
able to Faust, either Marlow^s or Goetbe^s. His own and Ooethe^s 
opinions on this matter may be coUected from tbe following extracts, 
which form part of a note to the last edition of Byron^s Works, 
vol. ii. p. 71. 

In June, 1820, Lord Byron tbus writes to Mr. Murray: — 
** Enclosed is sometbing will interest you ; to wit, the opinion of 
tbe greatest man in Germany, perbaps in Europe, upon one of the 
great men of your advertisements (all famous hands, as Jacob 
TonsQU used to say of bis ragamuffins), in short, a critique of 
Goetbe^s upon Manfred. Tbere is the original, an Englisb translsr 
tion, and an Italian one ; — ^keep them all in your arcbives, for the 
opinions of such a man as Goethe, whetber favourable or not, are 
always interesting, and tbis more so, as favourable« His Faust I 
never read, for I don^t know German ; but Matthew Monk Lewis, 
in 1816, at Coligny, translated most of it to me vwd voce, and I 
was naturally much Struck with it ; but it was the Steinbach, and 
the Jungfrau, and sometbing eise much more than Faustus, that 
made me write Manfred. The first scene, however, and that of 
Faustus are very similar.^* 

The following is part of the extract frY>m Goetbe*s Kwngt imd 
AUeithum, which the above letter inclosed : — 

" Byron's tragedy, Manfred, was to me a wondeiful phenomenon, 
and one that closely touched me.* Tbis singularly intellectual poet 
has taken my Faustus to himself, and extracted from it the strengest 
nourishment for his hypochondriac humour. He has made use of 
the impelling principles in his own way, for bis own purposes, so 
that no one of them remams the same ; and it is particularly on tbis 
account that I cannot enough admire his genius. The whole is in 
tbis way so completely formed anew, that it would be an interesting 
task for the critic to point out, not only the alterations be has made, 
but their degree of reaemblance with, or dissimilarity to, the orignal; 
in the course of which I cannot deny that the gloomy beat of an 
unbounded and exuberant despair, beoomes at last oppressive to ns. 
Yet is the dissatisfaction we feel always connected with esteem and 
admiration.** 

Lord Jeffrey, in the Edinburgh Review, tbus distinguishes 
MarIow*s hero from Manfred : — 

" Faustus is a vulgär sorcerer, tempted to seil bis soul to the 
devil for the ordinary price of sensual pleasure, and eartbly power 
and glory ; and who shrinks and shudders in agony when the forfeit 

* There Is a translation of one of Manfred's soliloquies by Goetbe lo 
the last complete edition of his Works, vol. iU. p. 207. 



NOTES. 163 

comes to be exacted. The style, too, of Marlow, though elegant 
and flcholar-like, is weak and childish compared ^th the depth and 
foToe of much of Lord Byron, and the disgusting bufFoonery of low 
fiffce, of which the piece ia principally made np, place it more in 
oontraat, than in any terms of comparison, \nth Üiat of his noble 
saccessor. In the tone and pitch of the composition, as well as in 
the character of the diction in the more solemn parts, Manfred 
reminds us more of the Prometheus of iEschylus than of any 
more modern Performance/* 

The foUowing extracts from Captain Medwin^s Conversations may 
also be placed here with propriety : — 

** The Grermans," said Byron, " and I believe Goethe himself, 
eonsider that I have taken great liberties with * Faust.* All I know 
of that drama is firom a sorry French translation, from an occasional 
read! Dg or two into English of parts of it by Monk Lewis, when at 
Diodata, and from the Hartz-mountain sceue that Shelley versified 
firom the other day. Nothing I envy him so much as to be able to 
read that astonishing production in the original. As to originality, 
Goethe has too much sense to pretend that he is not under obliga- 
tions to authors ancient and modern ; who is not ? You teil me 
the plot is almost entirely Calderon*s. The F^te, the Scholar^ the 
Argument about the Logos, tho selling himself to the fiend, and 
afterwards denying his power; his disguise of the plumed ca^ier, 
the enchanted mirror, are all from Cyprian. That magico prodi- 
gioaa must be worth reading, and nobody seems to know anything 
about it but you and Shelley.* Then the vision is not unlike that 
of Marlow's in his * Faustus.* The bed-scene is from * Cymbeline;' 
the song or serenade, a translation of Ophelia^s in ' Hamlet ; * and 
more than all, the prologue is from Job, which is the first drama in 
the World, and perhaps the oldest poem. I had an idea of writing 
a ' Job,* but I found it too sublime. There is no poetry to be 
compared with it.*' 

<* I told him that JapVet*s soliloquy in ' Heaven and Earth,* and 
address to the Mountains of Caucasus, strongly resembled Faust*8. 
* I shall have c-ommentators enongh by and by,* said he, * to dis- 
sect my thoughts, and find owners for them.* ** — Medwin*8 Oorwer- 
iotions of Lord Byron, pp. 141, 142. 

• Tbe trifling analogy that really does exist between the works, is men- 
tioned in ahnest all the Commentaries. It is bardij possible for Shelley ' 
to have said that Öoethe's plot is almost entirely Calderon's, and Captain • 
Medwhci had probably heen enlarging to Lord Byron on what Shelley had 
Incidentally mentioned as coinddences. 

M 2 



164 NOTES. 

Again : ^ I have a great curiositj about eTeiything relating to 
Goethe, and please myself with tMnking there is some analogy 
between our characters and writings. So much iuterest do I take 
in him, that I offered to give lOOl. to any penon who would tran»- 
late bis * Memoirs* for mj own reading. Shelley has sometimes 
ezplained part of them to me. Ho seerot to be veiy supentitious, 
and is a believer in astrology, — or rather was, for he was veiy 
young when he wrote the fint part of bis life. I would give the 
World to read * Faust' in the original. I have been urging Shelley 
to translate it, but he said that the translator of * Wallenstein* 
was the only person living who could venture to attempt it; that 
he had written to Coleridge, but in vain. For a man to translate 
it he must think as he does." 

** How do you ezplain," said I, ** the first line, 

* The sun thunders through the sky?* 

" He speaks of the music of the spheres in Heaven," said he, 
** where, as in Job, the first scene is laid.'* — MedwiTCs Conversa- 
tions, p. 267. 

Tieck, towards the end of bis masterly Introduction to Lcnz's 
Works, discountenances the notion that either Byron or Scott was 
under any literary Obligation to Goethe. This notion, as regaids 
Scott, is in part supported by reference to individual characters or 
passages in bis works, (as Finella copied from Mignon, or the inter- 
view between Leicester and Amy, at Cumnor, imitated from £^- 
mont,) but principally by supposing that the trauslation of Götz 
von BerlichiDgen first inspired him with a taste for that style of 
writing in which he afterwärds so pre-eminently distinguished him- 
self.* Unluckily for this theory, it is now well known that he had 
this taste already ;'{* and even without any direet evidence upon tbe 
point, it seems more probable that the taste originated the tran:»- 
lation, than the translation the taste. S^ott says that the rhythm 
and irregulär versification of 2%e Lay of the Last Mmstrel were 
imitated from Christabel; but were not these pcculiarities of 
Christahel imitated from Pavat f 

" I was once pressed — many years ago — to translate the Faust ; 
and 1 so far entertained the proposal as to read the work through 

* Mr. Carlyle (Specimens of German Komance, vol. iv. p. 6,) staits 
this suppoaitiun. 

t See the Annotated Edition of the Waverley Novels, vol. i- (General 
Prefitce. 



KOTES. I65 

with great attention, and to revive in my mind «ly own former plan 
of Michael Scott. But then I considered with myself whether the 
time takeu up in executing the translation might not more worthily 
be devoted to the compoBition of a work which, even if parallel in 
Booae points to the Faust, should be truly original in motive and 
execution, and therefore more interesting and valuable than any 
Version which.I could make; — and, secondly, I debated with myself 
whetlier it became my moral character to render into English — ^and 
so far, certainly, lend my countenance to langiiage — mucb of which 
I thought vulgär, licentious, and blasphemous. I need not teU 
you that I never put pen to paper as a translator of Faust.** — 
Coleridge*s TabU Talk, vol. ii. pp. 117, 118. 

P. 13. Tkis it 18 ÜuU almost bums up the heaai w'tfUn fne, — 
** Abel, my brother, I would lament for thee, but that the spirit 
within me is withered and bumt up with extreme agony." — The 
Wanderings of Cain, a Fragment, hy S, T, Coleridye, 

P. 13. For this very rea^on is all joy tornfrom me, — " I com- 
muncd with my own heart, saying, Lo, I am come to great estate, 
and have gotten more wisdom than all they that have been before 
me in Jerusalem , yea, my heart hath great experience of wisdom 
and knowledge. 

^ And I gave my heart to know wisdom, and to know madnem 
and folly : I perceived that this also is vexation of spirit. For in 
much wisdom is much grief : and he that increaseth knowledge, 
increaseth sorrow." — Eccl, c i. 

P. 13. / ha/ve therefore devoted myself to magie. — Gk>ethe teils 
US, in his Memoirs, that whilst he was confined by ill-health, he 
and Miss von Klettenberg read through several books on alchemy ; 
e.g., Welling^s Opus M^fo-CabaUisticum, Theophrastus Paracelsus, 
Basilius Yalentinus, I^lmont, Starkey, and the Aurea Catena 
Homeri.* The study of these writers subseqnently induced Goethe 
to put up a small chemical apparatus, of which he says : — ** Now 
were certain ingredients of the Macrocosmus and Microcosmus 
dealt with after a stränge iashion.** In his Farbenlehre, also, he 
entere upon an animated defence of natural magic It is deai 
frora many passages in his Memoirs, that the reflections on the 
insufficiency of knowledge which he has here put into the mouth 

• Döring {Life QfQoeOu, p. 72) mentions the drcomstance and connecti 
' with Faust. 



166 NOTES. 

of Faust, were his own at one period. For instance : — ^** The rcmark- 
able puppet-show fable of Faust found many an answering echo in 
my breast. I too bad ranged througb the whole round of know- 
ledge, and was early enough led to see its i-anity.** 

P. 14. Nostradamma. — ^** Nostradamus, properly Michel Notre 
Dame, bom in 1503, at St. Remy in Provence, of a family of 
Jewish origin, studied medicine, applied bimself somewbat to 
quackery, and feil at last into the Aivourite malady of bis age, 
astrology. The prophecies which, from bis sedusion at Salon, he 
made known in rhymed quatfains under the title of 'Centuries of 
the World,' exdted great notice by their style and their obscurity. 
Henry the Second, King of France, sent for the author and re- 
warded bim royaUy. When, subsequently, this monarch was 
wounded in a toumament, and lost bis life, men believed that the 
prophecy of this event was to be found in the 35th quatrain of the 
First Century : — 

** ' Le lion jeune le vieux surmontera, 
En campe beUique par singulier duel, 
Dans cage d*or les yeux lui crevera, 
Deux pkies une, puis mourir mort cruelle.' 



*< The most distinguished persons of bis time visited bim at Salon. 
Charles the Ninth appointed bim bis physician. There were not 
wanting people, howeyer, who made light of bis prophecies. So 
late as 1781, they were prohibited by the Papal Court, because the 
downfal of Papacy was announced in them. He died at Salon in 
1565.'* — Corweraationa^Lexicon, tit. Nostradamtts, 

P. 15. Macrocoam, <md SpvrU ofikeEaHk or Microcoam. 
— Dr. Hinrichs says : ** The Macrocosm signifies Nature, as such, 
and is opposed to Microcosm, as man." — ^p. 59. But I in- 
cline to think Macrocosm means the Universe, and the Spirit of 
Earth, the Earth generally. Thus Falk, in accounting for Faust's 
weaknesB in the presenoe of the latter, says, ** The mighty and 
multiform universality of the earth itself — that focus of all pheno- 
mena, which at the same time contains within itself sea, mountain, 
storm, earthquake, tiger, lion, lamb, Homer, Phidias, Raphael, 
Newton, Mozart, and Apelles — ^whom, appear when and where it 
might, would it not strike with trembling, fear, and awe?" — ^p. 247. 
The Ganzen (I am here adopting the gloss of a friend) is the 



NOTES, 167 

Omneity of the metaphysiciaiis, and Mtis in dem Ändern vnrkt 
vmd lebt, is TTie Immanence ofAllvn each of Plato. 

^ But the best commentary ou the whole of the passage in "whicb 
these words occur, is to be found in the first chapter of Herder's 
Ideen, who (according to Falk) received many of bis notions firom 
Goethe. The analogy of the following passage is suffidently 
marked : — " When, therefore, I open the great book of Heaven, 
and see before me this measurcless palace, "which alone, and every- 
where, the Godhead only has power to fill, 1 conclude, as undis- 
tractedly as I can, from the whole to the particular, from the par- 
ticular to the -whole.*' — Ideen, b. i. c. 1. 

The Spirits' chaunt probably suggested Shelley's — 

'* Natureis vast frame — the web of human things, 
Birtli and the grave !" 

In Dodsley^s CoUection of Old Plays (vol. v.) is " A Moral 
Mask,** entitled ** Microcosm," by Thomas Nabbs, in which Nature, 
Elarth, Fire, Water, &c., &c., figure as dramatis personie. 

** According to Paracelsus,*' says Mr. Heraad, '* the macrocosm 
is the great world, and man is the microcosm, or a little world — a 
kind of epitome of the great. Oswald CroUius, ' physician to the 
most illustrious Prince Christian Anhalün/ in bis admonitoiy pre- 
face to Paracelsus's Three Booha of Philosophy, delivers himself 
right leamedly on both worlds, macros and microa'* 

P. IS. Up, acolyte I — I have been called on for an authority for 
UBing thls Word in the above sense : — 

'* You are doubtless an acolyte in the noble and joyous science 
of minstrelsy and music'' — Aime of Oeier stein, vol. ii. p. 238. 

P. 15. Bow heavenly powers, <£;c. — *' And he dreamed, and 
behold, a ladder set up on the earth and the top of it reached the 
heaven ; and behold the angels of God ascending and descending 
on it." — Oenegis, c. xxviii. v. 12. 

P. 15. AU ringmg harmonUmsly through tke AU. — 

" And what if all of animated nature 
Be but organic harps diversely framed, 
That tremble into thonght, as o'er them sweeps, 
Plastic and vast, one intellectnal breeze, 

At once the Soul of each, and God of all.'' — CoUridge, 

(/ . 









168 NOTES. 

P. 16. il cold skuddering, dfc. — 

" Fear csune upon me, and trembling, which made all my boneB 
to shake. 

" Then a spiiit passed before my face : the hair of my ilesh stood 
up." — 2%e Book of Job, eh. iv. 

P. 16. AfUhonbhel— 

** Beluctant mortal, 
Is thiB the Magian who would bo perrade 
The World invisible, and make himself 
AlmoBt our equal?** — Manfred, Act 3, Sc 4. 

P. 17. EiUer Wagner. — The traditional Faust had a disciple or 
pupil named Wagner or Wi^nar, vrho figures in all the diumas or 
histories founded on the fable. He is thus described in Cayefs 
Translation of Widman : — " Jjo Docteur Fauste avoit un jeane 
serviteur quUl avoit ^leve quand il etudioit ä Wittenberg, que vit 
toutes les illusions de son ncLaitre Fauste, toutes ses inagies et tout 
son art diabolique. II ^toit un mauvais gar9on, coureur et 
debauchd du commencement qu^il vint demeurer ä Wittenberg : 
il mendoit, et personne ne le youloit prendre k cause de sa maa- 
vaise nature ; le gar^on se nommoit Christofe Wagner, et fut 
des-lors serviteur du Dr. Fauste ; il se tint tres bien avec loi, en 
Sorte que le Dr. Fauste l'appeloit son fils : il alloit oü il vouloit, 
quoiquMl allÄt tout boitant et de travers/* A book entitled 
" Christoph. Wagner's Magic Arts and Life of Dr. Faust,'' was 
published at Berlin, in 1714, assumed to be by the veii table 
attendant of the philosopher. 

Dr. Hinrichs has a stränge theory about this character. In bis 
opinion, Faust represents Philosophy, and Wagner, Empiricism; 
PhiloBophy being Grermany, and Empiricism all the rest of the 
World. 

It is also worthy of remark that one of Goethe^s early fnends 
was called Wagner. He signalized himself by stealing from Faust 
(which was communicated to bim in confidence previously to publi- 
cation) the tragic portion relating to Margaret,^ and making it the 
Bubject of a tragedy, called the Infanticide. Goethe ezpresses great 
indignation at the treachery. — MemoirSy B. 14. 

P. 18. BiU it ia docution^ <fcc. — Wagner, a man of learning, 
ynB probably alluding to the well-known aphorism of Demosthenes. 
Vortrag comes ncar the Greek TirdKpitrts, which includes not ao- 
tion merely, but all that relates to the delivery of a specch. 



! SOTES. 169 

P. 18. In which ye crisp the shreds of humanity. — The 
phrase hnitzd kräuseln is one about Which great variety of opinion 
exists, but the two highest authorities substantially agree : — 
, " Vos diacours qui brillent d*un si faux ^clat, dang lequel vous 

1 ^talez les omemeus les plus factices de Tesprit humain, &c« 

! Kräusdn, rendre cr^pu, friaer, Schnitzelf ce sont des decou- 

I pures de papier.* En les tordant en differens sens on peut en faire 

I des omemens, mdme des fieurs, mais ces fleurs n^ont aucune firai- 

cheur. Le poete les compare donc avec les omemens d'une 
rh^thorique affect^e. Une des beaut^s de ce passage c^st la singu- 
larit^ de la rime kr'dtiaeln et s'dusdn, laquelle k son tour aura 
amen^ les expressions un peu bizarres du second vers."— itfl ck/?. i:^ ;.^. «^ 
Schlegel — private letter. 

" Your fine Speeches, in which you rufSe up man^s poorest shreds 
(in which you repeat the most miserable trifles in candyed lan- 
guage), are comfortless/" &c. — {Dr. Jacob Orimm — private 
letter). The analogy between this passage and the ai vis me 
ßere, <kc. of Horace, will readily suggest itself. 

P. 18. Myfrtemdy the past ages are io us a hock toith seven 
secUs, ibc — This Speech also is one of considerable difficulty. 
Good critics are not wanting who contend that der Serren eigner 
Oeitt means the spirit of certain great persons or lords of the earth 
exercising a wide-spread influence on their times, and that eine 
Hawpt' imd StaatS'Äction means a grand political intrigue. But 
I haye it on indispu table authority, that Havpi- v/nd Stcuits-ÄcHon 
was the name given to a description of drama formerly well-known 
in Ckrmaiiy. Dr. Grimmas note npon this passage is :: — " Ein 
Kehricht- Fass, &c. a dust-vat (dirt-basket) and a lumber-roooi, 
and at best a historico-pragmatical play, with excellent moral 
maxims, as they are fit for a puppet- show." M. de Schlegel says : — 
** Hav/pt- wnd StaxUS'Action : C'est le titre qu^on affichait pour 
les drames destin^s aux marionnettes, lorsqu^ils traitaient des sujets 
h^roiques et historiques.** 

P. 19. Who dares caU the child hy Us true name t — *' II fant 
avoir une pens^e de derriere et juger de tout par la, en porlant 
cependant comme le peuple.*^ — Pascal, 

** Remark the use which Shakspeare always makes of bis bold 
"^ villains, as vehicles for expressing opinions and conjectuies of a 

* The Word Papier-Schnitzel is osed in this sense in Wühehn Meister. 
See Qoethe*9 \y*irlu, Stuttgart and Tobingen edition, toL xtUL p» 86. 



170 NOTES« 

iiature too hazardous for a wiae man to put forth discreetly as his 
own, or from anj eustained character/* — Colerid^e's Tahk Talk, 

P. 20. Something foreign, cmd moreforeign^ is ever clmging 
to the nohkst concepUon, Ac. — 

" But moBt needs confest 



That 'tis a thing impoasible to framo 
Gonceptions equal to the bouI^b desireB ; 
And tiie moBt di£Bcult of taslu to keep 
Heights which the bouI is competent to gain. 
— Man Ib of dast ; ethereal hopes are his, 
Which, when they Bhould Bustain themselves aloft, 
Want due consistence, like a pilhir of Bmoke» 
That with majestic energy from earth 
RiseB, but, having reached the thinner air, 
MeltBy and diBsolveB, and is no longer seen." 

WordaiworifCs JSxcuraüm. 

P. 20. The gloriout ftdmgt which gave tu life, dsc. — The 
■ame Bentiment, very beautifuUy expressed, will be found in 
SchiUer's Poem, Die Ideaie, elegantly translated by Lord F. Eger- 
ton (now Earl of Ellesmere). Goethe, also observes in bis Mo- 
moirs: — ^^^ Ordinarily, when our soul-concert is more spiritually 
attuned, the harsh grating tones of the world strike in, in the most 
overpowering and boisterouB manner, and the contraat which is ever 
Becretly going on, suddenly Coming forth, only influences the more 
sensibly on that account." He highly commends Wieland for his 
skill in representing this contrast. 

P. 21. 2%ottf hoUow scuUf icTuU mecmeat thou hy thca grinf — 
«< Death grins ! Go, pender o>r the skeleton !" — Byron. 

P. 21. To poueas what tJtou hast vnherUed from (hy siresy 
enjoy it. — The inscription on an old tomb-stone may serve to 
illustrate the meaning of this passage : — 

** What I gave, I have ; what I spent, I had ; what I left^ I lost.*^ 

P. 22. Ä8 when the moonlighi breaihet. — 

** How Bweet the moonlight ale^ upon that bank.'"— ^ 

Mercfumt of Venice. 

P. 22. The gorgecttsnest of ihe nuxny ar^fuUy-wrought imageSf 



NOTES. 171 

«fec. — " I remember seeing a beautiful silver goblet of the kiud — 
i,e.f one contrived for tlie trial of a guest^s powers of breath in 
drinking — at Beme in Switzerland, for sale, alas ! second-hand, in 
an old shop. It was so contrived, that the "wine flowed down a 
Channel into the main reservoir, and in its course turned a mill, on 
the sweeps of which the drinker^s eyes would be directed, if in their 
natural position, during the piUl (jfMö^).*' — Note by a friend, I 
need do no more than name the Blessed Bear of Bradwardine. 

P. 24. 21ie fuU-toned hell sownded so fraugkt mth mystic 
meaning. — " The question (as to the concordat) was argued one 
evening, at great length, on the terrace of the garden at Buona- 
parte's favourite villa of Malmaison. The Chief Consul avowed 
himself to be no belieyer in Christianitj. ' But religion,* said he, 
* is a principle which canuot be eradicated firom the heart of man/ 
' Who made all thatP' said Napoleon, looking up to the Heaven, 
which was clear and stany. ' Bat last Sunday evening,' he con- 
tinued, ^ I was waUcing here cblone, when the ckwrch-heUs of the 
vülage of Rud ru/ng <U sv/n^t. I waa ttrangely moved, so 
vividly did the image of early days come hoch with that sownd, 
If it be thus with me, what must it be with others?' ^In re- 
establishing the church,' he added, * I consult the wishes of the 
great majority of my people.*" — Life of Napoleon — Famüy 
Library, vol. i., p. 248. See also the last Act of Die Ahnfrom, 

P. 24. Ä longing, inconceivdbly sweety <kc. — 

** While yet a boy I sought for ghosts, and sped 
Throngh many a listening Chamber, cave and ruin, 
And star-lit wood, with fearfiil Steps pursuing 
Hopes of high talk with the departed dead.** — 

Shelley — Hyrwn to IrUdlectual Beauty, 

Compare the splendid passage in Wordsworth^s Tintem Abbey, 
beginning — 

<* Though changed, no doubt, from what I was when first 
I came amongst these hills.** — 

P. 24. BecoUection now holds me hack, — ** There is one ex- 
quisite passage in ancient poetry which presents us with a similar 
touch of nature. If Goethe had read it, he has rather produced an 
admirable counterpart than an imitation of it. It is in ApoUonius 
Rhodius, whose Medea, being in like manner beut on self-destruc- 
tion, is overpowered and recalled from her- purpose by a sudden 



172 NOTES. 

msh of kindlj lemembnuices, even while the ehest of magic drogt 
is resting on her knees." — Edvnbwrgh Review, No. 125, p. 41. 

P. 24. He is in reviving hlin. — It is impossible to translate 
WerdeltuL The meaniDg probably is, that our Sayiour enjoys, in 
Coming to lifo again, a happiness nearly equal to that of the 
Creator in creating. 

P. 24. For you is he heref — With you has hecn snggested in 
allusiou to St. Chrysostom's prayer, " There am I among you.** 

P. 27. Behindj far away, in Tv/rkey. — The common people 
in Germany are wont to oonsider themselves ns placed forvrärd in 
the World, and speak of certain distant or ontlandish countries a« 
behind. 

P. 27. Tkepavnted vessels. — 

** The painted vessels glide." — Pope, 

P. 28. Saint Andrew' s eve, dsc, — " There is a belief that on 
St. Andrew^s eve, St. Thomas^s eve, Christmas eve, and New 
Year''s eve, a maiden might invite and see her future lover. A 
table must be covered for two, but without forks. Whatever the 
\ovev leaves behind him, on going away, must be carefully picked 
up ; he then attaches himself to her who possesses it, and loves her 
ardently. Bat he should never be allowed to come to the sight of 
it again, or he will think of the pain he endured on that ui^t by 
supematiiral means, and becomes aware of the charm, whereby 
great unhapplness is occasioned. A beautifiü maiden in Austnit 
once sought to see her lover according to the necessary forma, 
whereupon a shoemaker entered with a dagger, threw it to her, 
and immediately disappeared again. She took up the dagger and 
locked it away in a ehest. Soon afterwards came the shoemaker 
and sought her in marriage. Some years after their marriage, ahe 
went one Sunday after vespers to the ehest to lock out something 
which she wanted for her next day's work. As she opened the 
ehest, her husband came to her and insisted on looking in ; she 
beld him back, but he pushed her aside, looked into the ehest, and 
saw bis lost dagger. He instantly seizes it, and requires to know, 
in a Word, how she got it, as he had lost it at a peculiar time. In 
her confusion she was unable to think of an excuse, and freely 
owns tliat it is the same dagger whieh he had left behind on that 
night when she required to see him. Upon this he grew furioua» 
and ezdaimed, with a fearful oath : * Whore ! then thou art the 



NOTES. 173 

girl, who tortuied me so mhumanly that night!' And with that 
he Struck the da^er right through her heart. 

** The like is related m various place8 of others. Orally, of a 
hantsman who left his hanger. During her first confinement the 
wife aent htm to her cheet to fetch clean linen, forgetting that the 
charmed instniment was there, which he fiids and kiils her 
with it." — {DevAsche Sagen, herausgegeben von den Brüdern 
Orimm. Berlin, 1816, No. 114). The sanie work (No. 118) 
contains a story founded on the superstition of the magic miiror 
(alluded to in the nezt line hut one), in whinh abeent friends or 
lovers may be seen. This superstition, howerei, is not peculiar to 
Germanj. 

P. 29. River cmd Hvitlet, dsc. — ^To understand Faust's position 
in this Speech, the reader must iasucj a towu on a river, like most 
of those upon the Rhine, with a suburban village on the oppositb 
bank. Fsdk makes this scene the grouudwork of a commentary 
on the advantages of the Sabbath ; a fsdr spedmen of the mode in 
which most of the commentaries on Faust are eked out. 

P. 32. l^here was a red lion, Ac. — Mr. T. Griffiths, of Eensing- 
ton, who delivered an eztremely interesting lecture on Alchymical 
Signs at the Royal Institution, enables me to fumish an ezphuiation 
of this passage, which has generally been passed over as (what M. 
Saint- Aulaire is pleased to term it) galimatku. 

There wcts a red Hon. — This ezpression implies the red stone, 
red mercury, or cinnabar. 

A hold lover. — This ezpression alludes to the property the above 
Compound possessed (according to tho adepts) of devouring, swallow- 
ing, or ravishing every pure metallic nature or body. 

— married. — This simply implies the conjoining or union of two 
bodies of opposite natures ; red and white were supposed to be male 
and female. 

— 4o the Uly, — This term denotes a preparation of antimony,called 
lilium minerale, or liJium Paracelsi ; the white stone, or perhaps 
albified mercury, sometimes caUed the " white fume," or the ** most 
rnük-white swanne.** 

— in the tepid bctth, — This denotes a ressel fiUed with heated 
water, or a ** balneum Maris," used as a very convenient means of 
elevating the body of an aludel or alembic slowly to a gentle heat. 

— amd then tnth openßame. — This means the direct and fierce 
application of fire to the aludel upon its removal from the water 
bath, afier the marriage had taken place betwixt the " red and the 
white." 



174 KOTES. 

— tortured. — The adepts deemed their Compounds sensible of 
pleasure and pain ; the heat of the open fire tortured the newly 
united bodies ; these therefore endeavoured to escape, or sublime, 
whicb is the sense in which the word tortured is to be taken. 

— from one hridal ckamber, — This means the body of the 
aludel, in which they were first placed, and which had been heated 
to such a degree as to cause their Sublimation. 

— to (moöver, — This signifies the glass head or capital placed on 
the body of the aludel, which received the sublimed vapours. 
Many heads were put on in succession, into which the vapours suo- 
cessively passed. 

If the y(yimg gueen. — This implies the suppoeed royal off«pring 
of the red lion and the lily, or its alliance to the noble metals — 
the sublimer products. 

— vjith varied httea then appeared. — During the process, various 
hues appeared on the sublimed Compound ; according to the order 
of their appearance, the perfection or completion of the great work 
was judged of. Purple and ruby were most esteemed, for being 
royal colours they were good omens. 

— in the glass, — This means the glass head or capital of the aludel, 
as before noticed. 

— this was the Tnedicine. — The term medicine was used to express 
both the elixir to heal human bodies, and that to transmute the 
bodies of metals into the purest gold and silver. 

The passage divested of alchymical obscurity would read thus : — 

" There was red mercury, a powerfuUy acting body, united with 
the tincture of antimony, at a gentle heat of the water-bath. Then 
being ezposed to the heat of the open fire in an aludel, a Sublimate 
filled its heads in succession, which, if it appeared with yarious 
hues, was the desired medicine.^^ 

In his note to me, Mr. GriflBths adds : — ** All the terms it con- 
tains may be found in alchymical works ; it is a very good specimeu 
of mystical writing." 

P. 33. JSvery height onfire. — 

'^ Cover a hundred leagues and seem 
To set the hills on fire." — Wordsworth, 

** The westem wave was all a-flame, 
The day was well nigh done ; 
Almost upon the western wave 

Rested the broad bright sun.'* — Coleridge, 

Many readers may be pleased with the opportunity of compariog 



NOTES. 175 

tbe emotions produced by sonrise in Wordsworth with those pro- 
(iuced by sunset in Goethe : — 

" What 80ul was bis, wben, from the naked top 
Of some bold headland, he beheld the sun 
Rise up, and bathe the world in light ! He looked — 
Ocean and earth, the solid frame of earth 
And ocean^s liquid mass, beneath bim lay 
In gladness and deep joy. The clouds were touched, 
And in their silent ßuies did he read 
Unutterable love. Sound needed none, 
Nor any voice of joy ; bis spirit drank 
The spectacle : Sensation, soul, and form 
AU melted into bim ; ihey swallowed up 
His animal being ; in them did he live. 
And by them did he live ; they were bis life. 
In such access of mind, in such high hour 
Of Visitation from the living God, 
Thought was not ; in enjoyment it expired. 
No thanks he breathed, he preferred no request ; 
Rapt into still communion thSTliranscends 
The imperfect ofiBces of prayer and praise, 
His mind was a thanksgiving to the Power 
That made bim ; it was blessedness and love ! ** — 

Excurmn, B. i. 

P. 33. The süver brooh flowmg into golden strectms. — This 
may allude to the gradual ^liding of the waters, as the sunbeams Ce f 
come to play upon them, or to Vnotber natural phenomenon, which 
I will explain by an anecdote. In the summer of 1831, it was my 
good fortune to pass through the beautiful valley of Abrenberg, a 
Valley which wants but a Moore to make an Ovoca of it. Whilst 
we were changing horses, I walked with a German Student to a 
rising ground to get a better view of the scenery. The setting sun 
was shining in such a manner, that the beams massed themselves 
on a broad part of the stream, and feil transversely over a tributary 
brook, thus giving a rieh golden glow to the river and the appearance 
of a white silvery line to the rivulet. We had hardly gained the 
height, wben my fellow-traveller exclaimed :— 

'* Den Silberbach in goldne Ströme fliessen.** 

P. 33. The day hefore me rnid the night hehind^—ThÜA fine 
expression occurs in a very old and populär tale of witchcraft men- 



r • "' 



176 NOTES. 

tioned at some length by Voss. Mr. Coleridge bas someUiing Ilko 
it in The Homeric Hexameter deacribed and exempLified, 

*< Strangely it bean us along in swelling and limitless billows. 
Nothing before and notbing behind but the sky and the ocean.** 

The Ovidian EUgiaa Metre deacribed and exemplified is a 
literal translation from Schiller. 

P. 33. Älasf no hodÜy wing, Ac. — 

^ Oft wben my spirit doth »pread her bolder wings, 
In mind to mount up to the purer sky, 
It down is weighed with thought of earthly things, 
And clogged with bürden of mortality." — 

Spencei'a SonneU. 

P. 34. The realms of an exaUed ancestry. — This alludes to a 
supposed divine origin of the soul or spirit of man, or to— *' For I 
am in a strait betwixt two, having a desire to depart and to be with 
Christ, which is better.*^ — Phü. i. An anonymous commentator 
quotes the following lines apropos of the main sentiment in this 
Speech : — 

*' Und was die Menschen meinen, 
Das ist mir einerlei. 
Möchte mich mir selbst vereinen 
Allein wir sind zu zwei ; 

** Und im lebend'gen Treiben 
Sind wir ein Hier und Dort, 
Das eine liebt zu bleiben 
Das andre möchte fort.^* 

P. 42. Invoke not the weü-hnown troop, which diffiuea itaelft 
ttreamingt thr(yugh the <Umo»phere, dec. — " The spirits of the 
aire will mix themselves with thunder and lightning, and so infest 
the clyme where they raise any tempest, that soudainely great mor- 
tality shall ensue to the inhabitauts.** — {Pierce PeTmUease hit 
Suj^ication, 1592 ; cited in Steeven*s Shakspeare.) ^ The air is 
not 80 fall of flies in summer, as it is at all times of invisible 
devils ; this Paracelsus stiffly maintains." — Burton, Anat, part i. 

P. 85. A line of fire foUows upon his trade, — In bis work on 
Golours, Goethe gives the following ezplanation of this phenom»- 
Qon : — « A dark object, the moment it witbdraws itself, imposes 
on the eye the necessity of seeing the same form bright. Between 
jert and eamest, I shall quote a passage from Faust which ia appli- 



NOTES. 177 

cable bere. (Then foUowB the passage.) This had been written 
lome time, — ^from poeücal intuition and in half consdousness, — 
when, as it was growing twiligbt, a black poodle ran hj my window 
in the atreet, and drew a clear, shining appearance after him, — ^the 
undefined image of bis paaaing form remaining in the eye. Sach 
phenomena occaaion the more pleasing surprise, as they present 
tbemaelves most vividlj and beautifully, precisely when we Buffer 
OUT eyes to wander unconsciously. There is no one to whom such 
counterfeit images have not often appeared, but they are allowed 
to pass unnoticed ; yet I have known persona who teased them- 
selyes on this account, and believed it to be a Symptom of the 
diseased State of their eyes, whereupon the explanation which I 
had it in my power to give inspired them with the highest satisfiic- 
tion. He who is instructed as to the real natnre of it, remarks the 
phenomenon more frequently, because the reflexion immediately 
suggests itselt Schiller wished many a time that this theory had 
never been oommunicated to bim, because he was everywhere 
catching glimpses of that the necessity for which was known to 
him/* The phenomenon is now a recognised and familiär one. 
See Sir David Brtwtter'a LeUera on Natwid, Magic, p. 20. 

In a note to the following lines in the Lay of the Last Minstrel, 
there is a stränge story of a fiend appearing in the shape of a 
black dog : — 

'* For be was speechless, gbastly, wan, 
Like him of whom the story ran. 
He spoke tbe spectre-hound in Man.** — CaifUo 6. 

According to ihe tradition, Faust was constantly attended by an 
evil spirit in the shape of a black dog. This four-footed foUowei 
bas a place in most of the old pictures, those in Auerbachs cellar 
not excepted. 

P. 35. Even a ioite tncm may hecome oMached to a dog when 
he is vfeU hrougM up, — ^** * A bonnie terrier that, sir ; and a feil 
cbield at the vermin, I Warrant him — that is, if he's been weel 
entered, for it a* lies in that.' ' Really, sir,' said Brown, * bis 
education has been somewhat neglected, and bis diief property is 
being a pleasant companion.* 

** * Aye, sir ? that's a pity, begging your pardon, it*s a great pity 
that — beast or body, education should aye be minded.*** — Cfuy 
Mannermg, 

P. 36. We are aecustomed to »ee men deride whai they do not 
underttand. — ** It has often and with truth been said, that unbe- 

N 



178 yoTEs. 

lief ifl an iorerted snpentition, aud our age sufFeri greatly by it A 
noble deed is attributcd to selfisbnew, an heroic acdon to vanitj, an 
undeniable poetic production to a aute of delirium ; nay, wbat is 
atill atranger, every thing of the higheat excellence that oomes forth, 
everything moat worthy of remark tbat occura, ia, ao long aa it ii 
barely poaaible, denied.** — Ooetke, FarbeTdehre. 

** Pindar'a fine remark reapecting the different effecta of muaie ob 
different cbaractera, holda equally true of geniua ; aa many aa are 
not delighted by it, are diaturbed, perplexed, irritated. The 
beholder either recogniaea it aa a projected form of bia own belog, 
that movea before bim with a glory round ita head, or recoila from 
it aa a apectre.*" — Coleridge't Aids to RefiMcion, p. 220. 

P. 37. We long for reveUuiony whieh nowhere hurru, «fec— It 
ia clear from Goetbe'a Memoira, and many otber parta of hia works, 
that he ia here deacribing the workinga of bis own mind in 
youth ; tbat, when hia apiiit waa tormented by doubta, he con- 
atantly referred to the Bible for c<Hiaolation, and found it tfaere. It 
alao appeaiB that he occaaionally atrnggled te penetrate below the 
aurfaoe in aomewhat tbe same manner aa Fauat. ** So far aa the 
niain aenae vn» conoemed, I beld by Luther'a edition ; in porticu- 
lara, I referred occaaionally to Schmidt^a verbal tranalations, and 
aought to make uy little Hebrew aa useful aa I could." It is a 
aingular fact that, next to the Bible, die book which Goethe wu 
fondeat of, and which confeaaedly exerdaed the greateat inflnenoe 
on bis mind, waa Spinoaa. So conatantly, indeed, waa he atudying 
thia writer, that Herder on one occaaion is aaid to have exclaimed 
to bim, ** Why you literally never read any Latin book bat 
Spinoaa I ^ 

In one of Leaaing'a plana for a drama to be founded on Faust, 
Fauat waa to be atudying Aristotle (Ueber Goethe^a FwuM &c. 8*2.) 
In Calderon*a El Magico Prodigioso, Cyprian ia atudying Pliny. 

P. 38. Salamander^ ündme, Sylpky Kobold. — I ahall illustrate 
Faust's conjuration by an extract from a very aingular work, Entn- 
tiens '8ur les Sciences tecretes du Comte de Üaba^U, by M. de 
Villara, in which SaJamandera, Undinea, Sylpba, and Kobolds {aliai 
Guomea) are described : — 

" * "When you ahall be enroUed among the childrcn of the philo- 
aophers, and your eyea fortified by the uac of the holy elixir, you 
will discüvor that the clementa are inhabited by very perfect crea- 
turea, of the knowledge of whom the ain of Adam deprived his 
unfonuuatc poateiity. The immense Space betwccn earth and skj 



NOTES. 179 

has other inhabitants thaa birds and flies ; the ocean other guests 
than whales and spiata ; the earth was not made for moles alone, 
nor is the dewlating flam^ itself a desert. 

*** The air is fall of beings bf human fonn, proud m appearanoe, 
bat docile in reality, great lovers of science, officious towards si^^es, 
intolerant towards fools. Their wives and daughters are masculine 
Amazonian beautiot ' 

** * How ! 70a do not mean to say that spirits marry P * 

** * Be not alanned, raj son, about such trifles ; believe what I 
say to be solid and true, and the fiiithfal epitome of cabalistic 
Bcience, which it will only depend on yoarself one day to verifv by 
your own eyes. Know then that seas and liwen are inhabited as 
well as the air ; and that ascended sages have given the name of 
Undanes or Nymphs to this floating popalation. They engender 
few males ; women overflow : their beauty is extreme ; the 
daughters of men are incompiu^bly inferior. 

** * The earth is filled down to its yery centre with Gnomes, a 
people of small stature, the wardeiu of treasures, mines, and pre- 
dous stones. They are ingenious, ffiendly to man, and easy to 
Gommand. They furnish the children of sages with all the money 
they want, and ask as the reward of their serrice only the honour 
of being commanded. Their women are small, very agreeable, and 
magnificent in their attire. 

** * As for the Salamanders, who inhabit the fiery region, they 
wait on the sages, but without any eagemess for the task ; their 
females are rarely to be seen/** 

This book probably fumished Pope with machinery for bis Rape 
of the Lock, suggested the plot of Idris and Zemide to Wieland, and 
gare De la Motte Fouqu^ a basis for bis delightful story of Undine. 

P. 39. Mephistopheka come» forward in the dreaa of a travel- 
1mg ackolar, — ** That Mephistopheles comes forth as a travelling 
Scholar (scholasticus), and therefore as a philosopher, is not with- 
out significance. For on seeing.him Faust knows that he is 
approached as a friend, he himself being devoted to philosophy ; and 
even the ezpression fahrender echolast expresses the unquiet with 
which Faust is filled. The wandering about through the world — 
for example, of Jordanus Bruno, &c. — ^is to be viewed with refer- 
ence to internal restlessness, impelled by which these philosophers 
wandered unceasingly from place to place.** — Dr. Hinrichi* 
^8th. Vorl. p. 91 Dr. Stieglitz {Sage, p. 64,) fumishes some 
curious particulars as to these sc/Kdastici vagantes as they were 
called, firäm which it would seem that they did not fill a very 
retpectable Station in society; and it is no eompliment to Oiordano 

n2 



180 NOTES. 

Bruno (a man of dUtinguished merit) to be put forth as an ejcample 
of the character. 

P. 40. Fly-godj — L e. Beelzebub, whoee name ia portly com- 
pounded of a Hebrew word signifying^y. 

P. 40. I am aptvri of ike part tohich in the hegifming tpca 
all, — '* Aud the earth was without fonn and void ; and darkness 
was upon the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God mored upon 
the fieüce of the waters. 

** And God said, Let there be light : and there was light. 

" And God saw the light, that it was good : and God divided the 
light from the darkness/* — Gen, c i. 

** Granted, that day, proceeding from the original source of light, 
deserves all houour, because it invigorates, quickens, gladdens — 
still it does not foUow that darkness must be addressed and shunned 
as the evil principle, because it makes us uneasy, and lulls us to 
sleep ; we rather see in such an effect the characteristics of sensn- 
ous beings controlled by phenomena.** — Ooethe, 

P. 40. That which it oppoted to noüiimg. — ^Dr. Schubart cau- 
tions US against supposing that under the term nichU a complete 
void is intended, as it means merely the original State of things 
under the reign of Chaos. 

P. 41. From air^ VKUer^ earthf Ae, — ** In the air, in the water, 
in the marshes, in the sand, — genera and species multiplied, and I 
believe that they will continue to multiply in the same proportion 
wlth the course of discovery.** — Herder^ Ideen zwr Philosophie, 
dec. b. 2, c. 4. 

P. 41. The Pentagram, — The Pentagram, Pentalpha, or Dru- 
denfuse, was a pentagonal figure like the following : — 




— supposed to possess the same sort of power which used popularly 
to be attributed to the horseshoe amongst'us. 

Those who wish for more infonnation on this subject may refer 
to Schol. in Ärietoph, Nvib. 599, and Lucian's Dialogue — J/t 



NOTES. 181 

lapau inter Minkmdum — ^in the Amsterdam quarto edition of 
1743, vol. i. pp. 729, 730, in notis, The Peatalpha is also men- 
tioned in Hobhouse's Historical Illustrations cf the Fourth Canto 
of Childe Harald, p. 334. 

In one of a series of engravings bj a Dutch artist of the be- 
ginniiig of the seventeenth Century ( Vau Sichem bj name), Faust 
18 represented Standing within two intersecting circles, upon two 
intersecting Squares, conjuring Mephistopheles, who is just appear- 
ing in bis true shape. 

P. 42. TeU me something worth teUing, — It is a matter of 
doobt inrhether ffute Mahr zu, sagen, does not mean to teü one*8 
forttme, 

P. 42. Ä compact, a hinding one, map he made wUh you 
genäemen. — ** * These are fine promises,** replied the Student ; ** but 
you gentlemen devils are accused of not being religious observers 
of what you promise to men.* ' It is a groundless charge,* replied 
AsmodeuB ; * some of my brethren indeed make no scruple of 
breaking their word, but I am a slave to mine.* ** — I7ie Devii upon 
2hM Stichs, chap. 1. 




P. 46. / am too M to do nothing huit play, too yowng to i^^JSP^^^'^ 
tnthov^ a toish,—' 

** Too old for youth,— too young at thirty-five, 

To herd mth boys or hoard with good threescore. 
I wonder people should be left alive, 

But sinee they aro, that epoch is a bore.** — 

Don Jwvn^ Canto 12. 

P. 46. What can the world afford mef — "Thou shalt 
renou/nce / " — *^ Thou shaU renotmce I ** — ** Our physical as well 
as social life, manners, customs, worldly -wisdom, philosophy, 
religion, all exclaim to us, " That -we shall renounce.** — IHch' 
tung und Wahrheit, part iL book 17. 

P. 47. Since a tweet familiär tone, <fcc. — 
" My eyel are dim with childish tears, 
My heart is idly stirred ; 
For the same sound is in my ears 

Which in those days I heard." — Wordsworth. 

P. 48. l%at highest grace of low, — Meaning probably le d/m 
^amowe/ux merci, or äs lattfa/vour, 

l 



*.•••• 



182 7I0TES. 

P. 49. Änd tehcU am I to dofor you in r^wm P — The actual 
or traditional compact wu to the following effect : — 

** Puls le D. Fauste re9oit son sang sur une tuile, et j roet des 
cbarbons tout chauds, et ecrit comme s^ensuit ci apres : 

** * Jean Fauste, Docteur, reconnois de ma pn^re main mani- 
festement pour une chose ratifiee, et oo en vertu de cet ecrit : 
qu* apres que je me suis mis a speculer les el^mens, et apr^s le« 
dons qui m*ont et^ distribuez et d^parüs delä-haut : lesquels n^ont 
point trouve d^habitude dans mon entendement. Et de oe que 
je n*ai peu £tre enseigne autrement des hommes, lors je xne suis 
presentement adonne ä un Esprit, qui s*appeUe Mephistophil^ 
qui est valet du prince infernal en Orient, .par paction entre lui et 
moi, qu*il m^adresseroit et m^apprendroit, comme il mYtoit predes- 
tine, qui anssi r^ciproquement m*a promis de m^£tre sujet en 
toutes choses. Partant et k Topposite, je lui ai promit et lui cer- 
tifie, que d'ici k Tingt-^quatre ans de la date de oes präsentes, 
▼ivant jusques-lä compltftement, comme il m*enseignera en son art 
et scienoe, et en ses inventions me maintiendra, gouvemeia, con- 
duira, et me fera tout bien, avec toutes choses nicessaires k mon 
eorps, ä mon ame, ä ma chair, k mon sang, et k ma sant^ : que je 
suis et serai sien k jamais. Partant, je renonce k tout ce qui est 
pour la vie du mnitre eheste et de tous les hommes, et que je sois 
en tout sien. Pour plus grande certitude, et plus grande confirmar 
tion, j*ai ^crit la präsente promesse de ma propre main, et Tai sous- 
e'crit de mon propre sang que je me suis tir^ ezpress^ent pour ce 
£ure, de mon sens et de mon jugement, de ma pens^e et volonte, et 
Tai arr^ttf, scelW et testifi^, &c." — CayeCi fFic^mon, part i. 

In Marlow^s Faustus the instrument is formaUy set out. 

P. 49. But if tkou hast food, ikc. — This passage has cansed a 
good deal of puzzling, though neither Falk nor Schubart seems to 
be aware of any difficultj : — 

** I Icnow thy rotten gifts," says Faust. " Which of thy fine 
goods of the earth will^st thon offer me ? How could the hke of 
thee ever be capable of measnring the unquiet of man^s breast. 
Hast thou food to serve up which never satisfies? Or canst thou 
only show trees which daily bloom anew and bud again ? I loathe 
this foliage of yesterday, this tale, which, ever tfie same, is told in 
the morning, and in the evening dies away again — 

** Zeig mir die Frucht die fault eh" man sie bricht 
Und Bäume die sich täglich neu begrünen.** — 

Falk, p. 283. 

" This (Mephistopheles* promise) appears to Faust but mockery. 



NOTES. 183 

What can a devil give a man to satisfy him, when he is not capable 
of giving it to himself ? The gifta of a devil," he says, " ar© but 
delusion, and melt away in the same manner as his quicksilver- 
like gold : thus he can only bestow fniits -which would not rot 
before the plucking, bat no ever-budding tree sprouts forth beneath 
bis skill and fostering;*— -ÄcÄttftart, 198. 

None of the editions that I have seen make the hast du an 
interrogatory, as Falk seems to understand it. There are autho- 
rities, however, for construing it — Taough thon hast, &c. It is 
also contended that — 

** Doch hast du Speise die nicht sättigt, Jutst 
Du rothes Geld, &c." 

is to be construed affirmatively : ** However, thou hast food which 
never satisfies,*' &c. : — and that the zeig mir^ Sic, is ironical and 
tantamount to saying : ** This is all thou canst show me.'^ But 
on this construction I do not see how the inversion of the second 
Jicut du is to be justified, whilst the answer of Mephistopheles 
clearly implies that the zeig mir, &c., was a demand on the part of 
Faust. The most probable supposition is, that Faust's meaning 
was pretty nearly the same as in the subsequent speech, in which 
he ezpresses a wish to enjoy all that is parcelled out among man- 
kind. Taking this wish into consideration, we may well suppose 
him saying : — " You can give nothing of any real value in the 
eyes of a man like me ; but if you have the common perishable | 
enjoyments of humanlty to bestow, let me have them.* 



M 



P. 60. At the doctor*a fea^t. — AUudlng to the inauguration- 
feast given on the taking of a degrce. 

P. 52. Take a poet to cowisel, duc. — See, for example, the 
wishes put into the mouth of Sir Epicure Mammon in The 
Alchymist. 

P. 63. / am not a haii^s hreadth higher, <kc. — " Which of you 
by taking thought can add oue cubit to bis stature ? '^ — Matt. vi. 27. 

P. 53. And am a proper man. — 

** As proper a man as any in Venice." — Shakspeare, 

P. 54. Whoie oversirained striving o''erleap8, iJkc. — 

" I have no spur 
To prick the sidcs of my intent, bnt only 
Vaultlng Ambition, which o^erleaps itself 
And falls on the other." — Macbeth. 



184 NOTES. 

P. 54. A Student enien, — Thu scene is a satire on the modes 
of mstruction punued in German Univenities, and has been 
much admired. But the effect is in a great measure produced hj 
the happ7 application of pedantic phrases and College slang, wbich 
are no more capable of beinj^ Telished in England Üian such terms 
as tDOoden-tpoon, liUle-go, cramming, pkkckingj in Germany. A 
distingoished scholar thus mentions this scene and the thiee other 
scenes vhich have been thoiight to resemble it in tone : — " To 
the great and overwhelming tragic powers of Goethe, Aristophanes, 
of course, can make no pretension ; but in their preference of the 
arbitrarj comic to the comic of manners, the two writers come yery 
close together ; and both writers should have lived, as Madame de 
Btael expresses it, when there was an intellectual chaos, simüar to 
the material chaos. Had Aristophanes written in modern times, 
it is, perhaps, not impertinent to suggest, that the Auerbach^s 
EeUer in Leipzig, the Hexenküche, the Walpurgisnacht, and per* 
haps the quizzing scene with the young Student just fresh from his 
university, are precisely the sort of scenes which would have fallen 
from his pen.** — Mitcheira Translation öf AriatopkaneSyPre" 
facCf p. zxvii. 

It is evident from many passages in his Memoirs, that Goethe*! 
early impressions of university pursuits were pretty nearly what he 
has put into the mouth of Mephistopheles ; nor, if we are to believe 
Falk, did his opinions change materially in after-life : — 

^ Our scientific men are rather too fond of details. They coant 
out to US the whole consistency of the earth in separate lots, and 
are so happy as to have a different name for every lot. That is 
argil (Thxnurde) ; that is quartz (Keisderde) : that is this, and 
this is that But what am I the better if I am ever so perfect in 
all these names ? When I hear them I always think of the old 
lines in Faust — 

* Entheireain natura neuntes die Chemie 
Bohrt sich selber Esel und weiss nicht wie ! * 

** What am I the better for these lots ? what for their names ? 
I want to know what it is that impels every several portion of the 
universe to seek out some other portion, — either to rule or to obey it, 
»and qualifies some for the one part and some for the other, accord« 
ing to a law innate in them all, and operating like a voluntary choice. 
But this is precisely the point upon which the most perfect and 
universal silence prevails/* 

** Everything in science," said he at another time, with the same 
tum of thought, ** is become too much divided into compartmenta 
In our Professors* chairs the several provinces (Fächer) are violentlr 



NOTES. 185 

and arbitrarily severed, and allotted into half-yearly courses of lec- 
tures, according to fixed plans. The number of real discoveries is 
small, especially when ono views them consecutively tbrough a few 
centuries. Most of what these people are so biisy about, is mere 
repetitiou of what has been said by this or that celebraU^d predecessor. 
Such a thing as independent original knowledge is hardly thought of. 
Young men are driven in flocks into lecture-rooms, and are crammed, 
for want of any real nutriment, vnth quotations and words. The 
insight which is wanting to the teacher, the leamer is to get for 
himself as he may. No great wisdom or acuteness is necessary to 
perceive that this is an entirely mistaken path/* — Mrs. Austin* 8 
Charctcteristica of Cfoethe. 

It is worthy of note that Barton (Änat, part i. sect. 2, sub-sec. 
7), remarks on the several sciences in somewhat the same spirit as 
(>oethe. 

P. 55, Spcmiah hoots. — The Spanish boot was an instrument of 
torture, like the Scottish boot mentioned in Old Mortality (vol. ü. 
p. 406). 

P. 55. Tken mawy a day wiU he spent in teaching you, <bc. — 
** In logic it Struck me as stränge that I was so to pull to pieces, dis- 
member, and, as it were, destroy those very Operations of the mind 
which I had gone tbrough with the greatest ease from my youth, in 
Order to perceive the proper use of them."— ÖbeiÄe*« Memoire, 

** And all a rhetorician's mies, 
Teach nothing but to name bis tools.** — Hudibras, 

See also Le Bourgeois Oeniükomme, act ii. scene 6, where the 
Master of Philosophy explains the object of logic. 

P. 56. He who wishes to know <md descrihe cmything living^ <t*c. 

*^ Like following life in creatures we dissect, 
We lose it in the moment we detect**— Pojof. 

" It was, gcnerally speaking, the prevailing tendency of the time 
which preceded our own, — a tendency displayed also in physical 
science, to consider what is possessed of life as a mere accumulation 
of dead parts, to separate what exists only in connection and cannot 
be otherwise conceived, instead of penetratiug to the central point 
and viewing all the parts as so many irradiations from it.^' — SchJe* 
gePs Lectures on IhamcUic Art and Literatitre, vol. ii. p. 127. 

P. 56. Five Uctwres every day. — Five ia the number of Course« 
of Lectures a young and eager Student ordinarily attends. 



186 NOTES. 

P. 56. As if the Holy Qhost wert dicUxtvng to you, — It is cnr 
was the custom in Oermany for the professon to read slowly enough 
for their pupils to follow them with the pen. Thia was called 
dictating. 

P. 57. I cannot reoonciU mytelf to juriaprvdence, — Hereagain 
Goethe is repeating his own sentiments. He was originally destined 
by his father for the law, but it was only with the greatest reluct- 
ance that he could be brought to qualify himself for the necessary 
examination at Strasburg, where such examinations were compara- 
tively light. He says, that he had no tum for any thing positive. — 
{MemoirSt book ix.) The exclamation, ^ Woe to thee that thou 
art a grandson,** alludes to the artifici^ and complicated Systems 
which people Coming late into the world are pretty sure to find 
entailed upon them. The law that is bom with us, means, I 
Buppose, what in common parlance is called the law of nature. It 
may assist future translatoi-s, not versed in German jurisprudenoe, 
to be told, that OesetZj in strictness, means enactment, and JRecfUf ^ 
law or a rule of law, generally. Gesetz, imd Reckte, thercfore, are 
both included under the term Uuws, 

P. 58. The spirü of medidne, — Goethe associated a good deal 
with medical students at Strasburg, and took considerable interest 
in the studies usually foUowed in connection with medicine. 

** Un cours profes»^ ä la mSme facult^ (Medicine, at Würtzburg), 
par M. Hensler porte un titre trop piquant pour que nous ne 
croyious pas devoir le reproduire. II se propose de tnuter de la 
acience et de 1» vie Universitaire en g^n^ral, et plus particuliere- 
ment de la m^d^ciue et de la methode la plus favorable ti suivre 
pour r^tudier, d^aprds le Faust de Goethe.^*—- (From an article 
in the Jl^pue JBncyclopidi^ue, by M. Lagarmitte). There is a 
profound Latin work on Theology by a gentleman named Yalzer, 
in which the immediately preceding passage in theology is raised 
into as much importanoe as ever M. Hensler cau raise the remarks 
on Medicine. 

P. 59. We have htU to spread out this mantle. — This was the 
mode of travelling afiforded by Asmodeus to Don Cleofas. 

P. 60. Aiierbach''s cellar in Leipssig. — Auerbachs cellar is a 
place of public entertalnmeut of the same class and character as the 
Cider Cellar in Maiden Lane, Covent Grarden.. I supped there 
during my last visit to Germany, and took some pains to ascertain 
the tnditions connected with it, which the waiter seemed to have a 
particular pleasure in communicating. He assured me tiiat there 



NOTES. 187 

was not the shadow of a doubt as to mj being seated in the yeiy 
vaalt in which both Faust and Goethe had caroused ; and producing 
aa old copy of Widman, he avowed himself ready to make oath that 
it had been in the cellar, as a sort of heir-loom, for 300 vears at 
the least. It was really a very curious copy, but bore the date of 
MDCXCV. The principal curiosities of the vault are two vcry 
old paintings, shaped like the segment of a circle, painted, it is 
snpposed, to commemorate Faust^s presence and achievements there. 
The one represents bim at the table drinkiDg to the sound of 
Qusic, with a pany of students ; the other represents bim in the 
act of passing out of the door upon a cask, whilst the spectators are 
holding up their bands in astonishment. The fint-mentioned bears 
a Latin inscription, which has proved a puzzler to the philologists : * 

** Vive, Bibe, Obgregare, Memor 
Fauste hujus et hu jus 
Piense. Aderat claudo heec 
Asterat amplo Gradu. — 1525/* 

A distinguished scholar, Dr. Maginn, proposes to read it thus : — 

** Vive, Bibe, Obgreciare, Memor 
Fausti hujus et hujus 
Psenffi. Aderat clauda baec, 
Ast erat ampla Gradu. — 1525.** 

Over the other are inscribed the lines following : — 

•* Doctor Faust zu dieser Frist 
Aus Auerbach's Keller geritten ist, 
Auf einem Fass mit Wein geschwind, 
Welches gesehen viel Mutterkind. 
Solches durch seine subtile Kraft hat gethan. 
Und des Teufel's Lohn empfangen davon. — 1525.** 

It has been made a doubt whether this date (1525) refers to the 
time at which the pictures were painted, or to that at which the 
adventures took place. The following are the best traditional 
accounts of the magical exploits in the tezt : — 

** At the city of Prague is a pnblican*s house, known by the sign 
of the Anchor, where the Doctor one day called as he was upon a 
tour. Seating himself among the travellers, in a short time he 
thus accosted them — ' Gentlemen, would you like to partake of all 
kinds of foreigu wines in the world ?* The whole pwrty, with one 



* See the Leipziger TagebMt for 1833, Noi. SS, 23, 26 ; amd BtdsUto's 
Sage vom Doctor FauH, 



188 NOTES. 

accord, cried out, * YeB, yes !' ' Then will you first like to taste 
the French, Spanish, Rhenish, Malaga, or anj other kind ?* con- 
tinued he, ' whichever you most approve/ 

** Upon this one of the guests exclaimed : — * Doctor Faustua ! 
whatever wine yoa please to furnish, Doctor, we shall find some 
means of disposing of it.* Whereupon he begged them to provide 
him with plenty of bottles and glassea, and he woiild supply the 
Test. This being done, he bored several holes in the table, and 
placing a funnel in each, he held the bottles under it, and decanted 
as much wine aa they would contain. As he laid them down one 
after another, the delighted guests began to laugh heartily, and 
heartily did they regale themselves/* — Ro8COe*8 Oerman Novelists, 
vol. i. p. 377. The other adventurc, in which the guests of Faust 
seize each other*8 noses mistaking them for grapes, is also told by 
Mr. Roscoe. The old French Version of Widman runs thus : — 

** Le Docteur Fauste avoit, en un certain lieu, invit^ des hommes 
principaux pour les traiter, sans quMl eüt appret^ aucune chosc. 
Quand done ils furent venus, ils virent bien la table couverte, 
mais la cuisine ^toit encore froide. II se £usoit aussi des noces, le 
meme soir, d^un riebe et honnSte bourgeois, et avoient e't^ tous les 
domestiques de la maison empSchez^pour bien et honorablement 
traiter les gens qui y ^toient invitdC^ Ce que le Docteur Fauste 
aiant appris, commanda k son Esprit que de ces noces il lui apport&t 
uif^sexvice de vivres tout appr6tez, soit poissons ou autres, qu%- 
continent il les enlevÄt de lä pour traiter ses h6tes. Soudain il y 
eut en la maison, oü l'on faisoit les noces, un grand vent par les 
chemin^es, fenetres et portes, qui ^teignit toutes les chandelles. 
Apres que le vent fut cess^, et les chandelles derechef allumez, et 
qu^ils eurent rd d^oü le tumulte avoit ^t^, ils trouverent, qu*il 
manquoit ä un mets une pi^ce de r6ti, h un autre une poule, ik 
un autre une oye, et que dans la chaudiere il manquoit aussi de 
grands poissons. Lors furent Fauste et ses invitez pourvüs de 
vivres, mais le vin manquoit: toutefois non pas long-temps, car 
Me^ostophües fus fort bien au voiage de Florence dans les caves 
de Fougres, dont il en apporta quantit^ ; mais apres quMIs eurent 
mang^, ils desiroient (qui est ce pour quoi ils e'toient principalement 
venus,) qu'il leur fit pour plaisir quelque tour d'enchantemens. 
Lors il leur fit venir sur la table une vigne avec ses grappes de 
Saison, dont un chacun en prit sa part. II commanda puis apres 
de prendre un coüteau, et le mettre k la racine, comme sMls 
l'eussent vouler couper. N^anmoins, ils n'en pürent pas venir k 
beut : puis apres, il s*en alla hors des ^tuves, et ne tarda gueres 
Sans re venir ; lors ils s*arrdt^rent tous et se tinrent Tun l*autre par 
le nezy et un coüteau dessus. Quand done puis apres ils voulurent, 



NOTES. 189 

jls pÄrent couper les grappes. Gela leor fut ainsi mis aucunement, 
mais ÜB earent bien voulu qu'il les eüt fait yenir toutes meures/* 
—Part üi., eh. 33. 

The adventare on the cask is also recorded in this history. 

P. 61. Soar up, Madam Nightingale, give my sweetJieart ten 
thousa/nd greetings for me. — The foUowing is the song which 
Goethe probablj had in his mind : — 

''fRAU NACHTIGALL. 

" Nachtigal, ich hör dich singen 
Das Herz möcht mir im Leib zerspringen, 
Komme doch und sag mir bald, 
Wie ich mich verhalten solL 

** Nachtigal, ich seh dich laufen, 
An dem Bächlein thust du saufen, 
Du tunkst dein klein Schnäblein ein 
Meinst es war der beste Wein. 

** Nachtigal, vro ist gut -wohnen, 
Auf den Linden, in den Kronen, 
Bei der schön Frau Nachtigal, 
Grü88 mein Schätzchen tcmsendm^al,''^ 

This song is in the collection of Alte Deutsche Lieder, entitled 
Des Knahen Wwnderhom, compiled bj MM. von Arnim and 
Brentauo. The plan was probäbly suggested by Dr. Percy*s 
Relics ; a book which (translated and imitated by Bürger, Herder, 
and others,) has exercised at least as great an influence on German 
literature as on our own. — See some interesting remarks on this 
subject in the last edition of Wordtworth^s Works, vol. i. p. 329. 

P. 62. Leipsic is the place, dec. — ^It aj^ars firom his Memoirs, 
that when Goethe commenced his College studies at Leipzig, a great 
affectation of politeness prevailed amongst the students. 

P. 63. Ida/re say you are UUelyfrom Rippach f Did you sttp 
with Mr, Ha/M hefore you left f — Rippach is a village near Leip- 
zig, and to ask for Hans von Rippach, a fictitious personage, was an 
old joke amongst the students. The ready reply of Mephistophe- 
les indicating no surprise, shows Siebel and Altmayer that he is 
up to it. Hans is the German Jack, as Hans der JRiesentodterf 
Jach the Oiant-hiller, 

P. 64. Mephistophelea ti/ngs, — A &vourite at the court of 
Weimar is said to be alluded to. ** Bertuch, the iather," says 
Falk, " who was treasurer to the Duke, used in after times to speak 



190 NOTES. 

vnth great glee of a mngular liead in the accounts wbich be bad 
to submit in tbose dajs. It consisted almost entirely of breeches, 
waistcoats, sboes and stocking« for German literati, wbo were wan- 
dering witbin the gates of Weimar, slenderly provided witb tbose 
articles.^* Tbis aong was set to muaic by Beeiboven. 

P. 69. Wüchet^ Küchen. — Tbe best commentaiy on tbis scene 

is to be found in Retzscb's Outlines. Tbe monkeys are there 

represented as sometbing between tbe monkey and tbe baboon ; 

but be bimself told me tbat MeerkcUee is tbe common little long- 

tailed monkey. Tbe term is tbus ufled in a Oerman translation of 

. Lear. ** Eine unvergleicblicbe Ausflucbt für einen Hurenjäger, 

" "^ seinen Meerkatzen-Trieb den Sternen zur Last zu legen.** — Act i. 

U sc. 2, in Rdmund's Speech on Planetary Influenoes. Madame de 

/ '^ 1f, t*- Stael considers it to mean sometbing between a monkey and a cat. 

The foUowing passage (in wbich Goethe is tbe Speaker) may 

' ' save the reader a good deal of profitless puzzling : — " For tbirty 

I years they (the Germans) have been sorely vexed and tormented 

•. in spirit by tbe broomstick on tbe Blocksbeig and the cat's dia- 

logue in the Witches* kitchen, wbich occur in Faust, and all the 

interpreting and allegorising of tbis dramatic-humoristic extrava- 

ganza have never thoroughly prospered. Really people should 

learn when they are young to make and take a joke, and to thrQW 

away scraps as scraps.** — Falk. 

P. 70. Ättke fea9t, dac» — Falk observes, in allusion to tbe text 
of these three lines, tbat Faust and. Mepbistopbeles are greeted in 
a tone wbich, through the dipbthong o«, bears a streng affinity to 
tbe language of monkeys. 

P. 70. Coarse heggari hroih. — " Tbe hreüen Bettel-Siippen 
have an ironical reference to the coarse superstitions wbich extend 
witb a tbick palpable shade amongst all nations thoughout the 
wbolo history of the world." — Falh. 

P. 71. Take ikehrusk here, Ac. — Retzsch represents Mepbis- 
topbeles as holding a light skreen or fan in bis band. 

P. 72. Oh t he so good as to glue the crovm, «fec. — ^** A wish 
wbich, profoundly considered, sounds so pulitically, that one woold 
swear the monkey-spirits bad read the history of both tbe old 
Bomisb and the new empire, chapter by chapter, witb all its de- 
throniugs and assassinations, from the beginning of tbe first to the 
end of the last war." — Falk, 



NOTES. 191 

P. Thou atomy — 
** Thou atomy, thou !" — Shakeapeare, 

P. 74. T/ie Twrihemphaniom is now no more to he seen. Where 
do you now see hornsy tau, and clawst — The old German cate- 
chisms, from Luther's time downwards, were generally adomed 
with a frontispiece, representing the devil with all the above- 
mentioned appendages. 

P. 76. ITtat is the witches* one^timet-one, — «. e. multiplication- 
table. 

P. 76. For a dotormght contradicHon, dsc, — Dr. Hinrichs' 
note on this passage is : — " A System of philosophj which, like 
that of Hegel, begins with such a contradiction, — for instance. 
Das Seyn ist Nichts, has the advantage that it frightens avay 
those who have no call for it, both wi^e men and fools.'' 

P. 78. Margaret, — Goethe's first love was called Margaret. 
She was a girl of inferior rank in life, apprenticed, during the love- 
aflfair, to a milliner. He was about fifteen at the commencement 
of the acquaintance, and she two or three years older. Pre- 
viously to the introduction he was iu the habit of foUowing her to 
church, but never ventured ou accosting her. — See the Dichtv/ng 
v/nd Wahrheit, b. 5. 

P. 79. AU sorts of nonsense. — " Ces pendardes-lä, avec Icur 
pommade, ont, je pense, envie de me minor. Je ne vois partout 
que blancs d'ceufs, lait virginal, et mille autres hrimhorions que je 
ne connois point." — Les Predeuses RidicuXes, Act i., sc. 4. 

P. 80. BesideSf he wovld not eise have heen so impitdent,-^ 
The lower classes have an awkward habit of aasociating a more 
than ordinary degree of shamelessness or profligacy with gentility. 
The gamekeeper of a lady of rank in Hampshire once came to teil 
her that a gentleman was sporting over her best preserves, and 
refused to listen to remonstrances. ** A gentleman," said her 
ladyship, **how do you know him to be a gentleman ? " *• Bccaiise," 
was the roply, ** he kcepe fourteen horses and another man^s wife.** 

P. 81. Am Ivn cm enchamted atm&aphere f — 

" *Ti8 her breathing that 
Perfumes the chamber thns." — 

Cymbelinef Act ii., sc. 2. 



192 NOTES. 

There h Bome aaalogy between this scene and La Nouvdk 
Hdoisej vol. i., lett. 54, though Fanst^s feelings ia his mifitres8*8 
Chamber are very differeat fram St. Preux^s. 

P. 82. ItfeeU 80 dose, ao suUry here, — 

" Now, by my life, this day grows wondrous bot ; 
Some aii7 devil horers in the sky. 
And pours down mischief/" — 

King Jokn, Act iii., sc. 2. 

P. 82. There tDa$ a hmg m nuU, — Many of the songs in 
Faust, this among others, were not originally dritten for it 
Goethe mentions in his Memoire that he sung this song with cou- 
siderable applause in a social meeting. 

P. 90. / Vfould (kamge rings toith you mysdf. — In some 
countries of Gennany the bridegroom, instead of placing the ring 
on the finger of the bilde, gives one to her and receives one in 
retum. 

P. 90. Two mtneues* — Alluding to the mle of the civil law, 
which forms the basis of all the German Systems. — ünius responsio 
tesH» omaimo non audicUya; — Cod, 4, 20, 9. 

P. 100. From the vfoll-like rocks, cut ofihe damp underwood, 

** How divine, 
' The liberty for fi-ail, for mortal man, 
To roam at large among unpeopled glens 
And mouutainous retirements, only trod 
By devious footsteps ; regions consecrate 
To oldest time ! and, reckless of the storm 
That keeps the raven quiet in her nest, 
Be as a presence or a motion — one 
Among the many there ; cmdf whüe the mista 
Plyingy a/nd ramy vapows, call out ahapea 
ÄTid phcmtoms from the craiga and solid earth, 
As fast as a musician scatters sounds 
Out of an instrument ; and whüe the streams — *' 

The Exov/mon, 

^ And he, with many feelings, many thoughts, 
Made up a meditative joy, and found 
Beligious meanings in the forms of nature." — 

Coleridge, SibyUine Leavee, p. 65. 



NOTES. 193 

P. 102. lÄJce a snow-flushed rivulet, — " Like a rock in the 
mid-channel of a river swoln by a sudden rain-fliish from the 
mountains," &c. — Coleridge*8 Aids to Eeßection, p. 79. 

P. 102. Were I a hird, <kc.— 

" Wenn ich ein Vöglein war, 
Und auch zwei Flügeln hätt, 
Flog ich zu dir ; 
Weils aber nicht kann seyn, 
Bleib ich all hier. 

** Bin ich gleich weit von dir, . 
Bin ich doch im Schlaf bei dir, 
Und red mit dir ; 
Wenn ich erwachen thu, 
Bin ich allein. 

** Es vergeht keine Stund in der Nacht, 
Da mein Herze nicht erwacht. 
Und an dich gedenkt, 
Dass du mir viel tausendmal 
Dein Herze geschenkt.** 

Eerder'8 Volkslieder, b. i., p. 67. 
Wunderhom, part i., p. 231. 

P. 102. One while fairly ovitwept. — 

" As with no stain 
She faded like a cloud that has outwept its rain.** 

Shelley, Äd<mais. 

** Lo pianto stesso li pianger non lascia.'* 

Dcmte, Inf. Canto 33. 

P. 103. TTie twin^pair, which feed among roses. — " Thy two 
breasts are like two young roes that are twins, which feed among 
the lilies '* — Song ofSolomon, eh. iv., v. 5. " Je ne vous conseille 
pas de traduire cela litt^ralement. On jeterait les hauts cris.. 
C^est h la responsibilit^ du poete. L'esprit malin semble vouloir 
insinuer que les saints mSme, et les sages, tels que Solomon, 
n*^taient pas insensibles aux attraits de la volupt^.** — M, de 
Schlegel. 

P. 103. And all her homely cares emhraced within that liUk 
vDcrld, — 

** Flies from her home, the humble sphere 
Of all h^r }oys and sorrows here ; 





194 NOTES. 

Her father*8 house of mountain-stoue. 
And by s mountaia yine o'ergrown. 
At such an hour, in such a night, 
So calm, so clear, so heavenly bright, 
Who would have seen, and not confess'd 
It looked as all witbin were blest.^* 

Bogen, Jacqudine. 

P. 107. Aretoe not loolcing irUo ectch other*8 eyes. — 

— — ^— — ** wben füll of blissful sighs^ 
They sat and looked into eacb other's eyes."— 

LaUaBoohh, 

** They looked up to the sky, whose floating glow 
Spread like a rosy ocean, vast and bright : 
They gazed upon the glittering sea below, 
Whence the broad moon rose circling into sight ; 
They heard the wave^s splash, and the v^ind so low, 
And saw each other's dark eyes darting light 
Into each other." — Don Ju(m, 

Clärchen : ** Lass mich schweigen ! lass mich dich halten. Loss 
mich dir in die Augen sehen; alles darin finden, Trost und 
Hofinung, und Freude und Kummer." — EgmjcnU, Act iii. 

** I have asked that dreadful question of the hills 
That look etemal ; of the flowing streams 
That lucid flow for ever ; of the stars, 
Amid whose fields of azure my raised spirit 
Hath trod in glory : all were dumb ; but now. 
White I thu8 gaze upon ihy living face, 
I feel the love that kindles through its beauty 
Can never whoUy perish ; we shall meet 
Again, Clemanthe ! " — loniy Act v., sc. 2. 

P. 107. I ha/veno nameforit. — "The Persian poet Saadi of 
Schiraz says, according to Herder : — 'Who knows God, is silent.'" 

P. 107. Name ü aownd and smohe. — ^In most of the editions 
preceding the collected edition of Goethe's Works commenoed in 
1828, it Stands : — Nature ia aotmd and smohe 

P. 107. 7^ man you have mth you is hate/kU to me, dkc— 
Margaretes intuitive apprehension of Mephistopheles is copied from 
an incident mentioned in Goethe's Memoirs : — " I could scarcely 
r^t tili I had introduced my friend Merk at Lotta's (the original 



NOTES. 195 

of Werther'e Charlotte), but his presence in tliis circle did me no 
good ; for, like Mephistopheles, go where he will, he will hardly 
bring a blessing with him." Goethe always called this friend 
" Mephistopheles Merk," and gives a stränge account of the 
nüngled goodness and deviliahness of his dispodition. The same 
feeling is beautifally described in the following lines by Coleridge : — 

** And yet Sarolta, simple, inexperienced, 
Could see him as he was, and often wamed me ! 
Whence leam*d she this? O she was innocent/ 
And to be innocent is nature^s wisdom ! 
The hedge-dove knows the prowlers of the air, 
Feared soon as seen, and fiutters back to shelter. 
And the young steed recoils upon his haunchcs, 
The never-yet-seen adder's hiss first heard. 
O surer than suspicion's hundred eyes 
Is that fine sense, which to the pure in heart, 
By mere oppngnancy of their own goodness, 
Reveals th' approach of evil." — Zapolya. 

Sir Walter Scott had probably one or both of these passages in 
his mind when he wrote the foUowing: — ^'The innocent Alice, 
without being able to discover what was wrong either in the scenes 
of unusual luzury with which she was surrounded, or in the man- 
ners of her hostess, which, both from nature and pohcy, were kind 
and caressing, feit nevertheless an instinctive apprehension that all 
was not right, a feeling in the human mind, allied, perhape, to 
that sense of danger which animals ezhibit when placed in the 
vicinity of the natural enemies of their race, and which makes birds 
cower when the hawk is in the air, and beasts tremble when th& 
tiger is abroad in the desert. There was a heaviness at her heart 
which she could not dispel, and the few hours which she had already 
spent at Chiffinch's, were like those passed in a prison by one un- 
conscious of the cause or event of his captivity.*' — PeverU of the 
Peak. 

P. 109. Füll ofJierfcdth, Ac, — The words: — 

** Der ganz allein 
Ihr selig machend ist, 

have here the same meaning as in Dr. Garov^'s celebrated work 
Ud)er ÄUeinseliffmadiende Kiamke; i. e., the Gatholic Church. 

P. 1 1 1. We wiU ttrew cut straw hefore her door, — This alludes 
to a German custom something analogous to Skimmerton-riding in 

o2 



196 JNOTEB. 

this country. It consista in strewing cut or chopped straw before 
thc door of a bride whose virtue is suspected, the daj before the 
wedding. The garland (like the snood) is a token of Tiiginity, 
and a ruined maiden is said to haye lost her garland. 

Bessy's want of charity recalls the well-known lines in Tke 
Giaour: — 



(( 



No : gayer insects ilattering by 
Ne*er droop the wing o'er those that die, 
And lovelier things have mercy shown 
To every failing but their own, 
And every woe a tear can claim, 
Except an erring sister's shame.** 

P. 112. Zwinger, — Zwinger is untranslatable, and a good deal 
of doubt exists as to the meaning of the term. " Zwinger (says a 
leamed correspondent) from Zwingen, to subdue, is a name given 
to Castles found in some of the free towns, and formerly held by an 
imperial govemor. They are often in the middle of the town, and 
have a paesage wherein a devotional image with a lamp has occa- 
sionally been placed, not expressly for the sake of devotion, bnt to 
lighten up a dark passage; Mai^aret wishes to be unobserved, 
and prefers this lonely spot to the chapel.** This account was con- 
firmed to me in conversation by Retzsch. In his Outline of tbe 
scene, Margaret is represented kneeling before an image of the 
Virgin placed in a niche dose to a church. Mr. Downes, in his 
Letter» from Continental Cowniries, says : " On our way (from 
Goslar to the Rammeisberg) we visited the Zwi/nger, an old tower 
of three stories, containing a saloon for masquerades. The walls are 
so thick as to admit of a small side apartment adjoining one of the 
Windows. A scene in Goethe's Faust is entitled Zwinger; it is 
perhaps identical with this/* 

P. 112. Mater Dolorosa. — The foUowing lines of Manzoni (a 
great favourite of Goethe) in his hymn to the Virgin, might be sup- 
posed to have been suggested by this scene : — 

** La femminetta nel tuo sen regale 
La sua spregiata lagrima depone, 
E a te, beata, della sua immortale 
Alma gli afi^nni espone : 
A te, che i prieghi ascolti e le querele 
Non come suole il mondo, n^ degV imi 
E de* grandi il dolor col suo crudele 
Discemimento estimi.** 



NOTES. 197 

P. 11*5. Ca/n that he the treaattre rising, Ac. — This alludes to a 
BUperetitious belief that the preeence of a treasure is indicated by a 
blue light or flame to the initiated. The same allusion occurs in 
^the Intermezzo, and also in a little poem by Goethe, called Der 
Schatzgräber : — 

'*Und ich sah ein Licht von weitem, 
Und es kam gleich einem Sterne/* 

In the Antiquary, too, in the scene between Sir Arthur War- 
dour and Dousterswivel in the rains of St Ruth, it is said, ** No 
Bupematural light hurst forth from below to indicate the subterra- 
nean treasury." 

P. 115. LiondoUa/rs. — The Zöwen^oZ^ is acoin first Struck by 
the Bohemian Count Schlick, from the mines of Joachims-Thal in 
Bohemia; the finest in the years 1518-1529, under Ludovick, the 
first king of Hungary and Bohemia. The one side represents the 
fork-tailed lion, with the inscription — " Ludwig I. D. G. Rex 
Böhm.** The leverse, the fuU-length image of St. John, with the 
arms of Schlick. — Köhler't Mtmtz-Beltutigungen. 

P. 115. WTiat are you doing Äere, Catherine f — This song is 
obviously imitated from Ophelia*s. — Hamlet^ Act iv. Scene 5. 

P. 115. Bai-catcker. — 

" Tybalt, you rat-catcher, will you walk ?** 

Bomeo and JiUiet, Act üi. Scene 1. 

The common people in Germany believe (or believed) that rat- 
catchers, by whistling or piping a peculiar note, could compel the 
rata to foUow them wherever they chose. — Deutelte Sagen, No. 
245. This accounts for the application of the term to a serenading 
•eduoer. 

P. 116. Ovi vnth your toasti/ng-mm. — 

** Put np thy sword betime, 
Or 111 so maul you and your toasting-iron, 
That you shall think the devil is come from hell.** 

King John, Act iv. Scene 3. 

Flederwisch, literally goosewing, is a cant term for a swonl. 

P. 116. I am perfecUy at home with the police, hut shoufdßnd 
it hard to clear Korea tüith the criminal cov/rts. — Blutbann is an 



198 NOTES. 

old name fbr criminal Jurisdiction in the general sense. The dis- 
tinction between PolizeirUebertretimgen and Ver^trechenf to vrhich 
the above passage might otherwise be Bupposed to refer, was intro- 
duced into the Grerman Systems in imitation of the French code ; 
consequently not tili long after the period at which this scene was 
written. — See MUtermaier's Strafverfcthren, pp. 10 and 16. To 
Qiake matters sure, I referred both Bluthcmn and Blittschidd to M. 
Mittermaier himself. 

P. 117. When finA Shxvmey <kc* — 

" The while some one did chant this lovely lay : 

Ah see, whose fair thing dost fain to see 
The springing flower the imi^e of thy day, 

Ah see the virgin rose, how swcetly sh© 
Dost first peep forth with bashful modesty, 

The fairer seems, the less ye see her may ; 
Lo, see soon after, how more hold and free 

Her bared bosom she doth broad display ; 

Lo, see soon after, how she fades and fidls away.** 

Spenser, 

P. 118. Bvil spirit hekind Margaret. — 

" I looked to heaven and tried to pray, 
But or oTer a prayer had gusht, 
A wicked whisper came, and made 
My heart as dry as dust.*' 

Mme of the ÄTtciewt Mariner, 

P. 118. Änd tmder thy heart stirs ü not qmchenmg even 
now? — 

«Sheheldwithin 
A second principle of life, which might 
Have dawned a fair and siuless child of sin.** 

IMm Jua/ih^ Canto iy. 

It is common in Germany to wy, Sie tragt das Pfand der Zdebe 
unter ihrem Herzen — " She bears the pledge of love under her 
heart." Thus Schiller in Die KindesvnSrderiny — "Nicht das 
Knäblein unter meinem Herzen ? " Shelley also has the same 
allusion : — 

" Mcthought I was about to be a mothcr ; 
Month after month went by, and still I dream*d 
That we should soon be all to one another, 
I and my child ; <md stiU new pultea teenCd 



NOTES. 199 

To heat heside my keartf and still I deem'd 
There was a babe within ; and when the rain 
Of winter tbrough the rifted cavem streamM, 
Methought, after a la{>se of lingering pain, 
I saw that lovely shape, which near my heart had lainy 

The Revolt of Jslanij Canto vii. 

P. 119. I feel 08 if the organ, <fec. — There ia a passage in 
Goetbe's works (I forgot to note down the place) in which he 
describes the Dies irre as having a similar effect upon himself. Mr. 
W. Taylor says that Sir Walter Scott borrowed a hint or two from 
this scene for the Lay of the Last Minstrel. I suppose he alludes 
to the thirtieth Stanza of the last Canto : — 

" And ever in the office close 
The hymn of intercession rose : 
And far the echolng aisles prolong 
The awful burthen of the song — 
Dies irse, Dies illa, 
Solvet Bseclum in favillÄ — 
While the pealing organ rung.*' 

P. 121. May-Day Night. The Harfz MovmtcwM, District 
of Schirhecmd Elmd, — Walpurgis is the name of the female saint 
who converted the Saxons to Christianity. May-day Night is dedi- 
cated to her. The Hartz is the most northerly ränge of uiountains 
in Germany, and comprises (according to the Conversations-Lezicon) 
about 1350 Square miles, mostly within the district of Uanover. 
The Brocken or Blocksberg is the summit of the chain, on the top 
of which all the witches of Germany hold an annual meeting. 
Schirke and Elend are two villages on or near the Brocken. As 
these mountains are now a favourite resort of tourists, it is useless 
io add a minute description of them.* Mr. Downes, in his Letters 
from Continental Countries, has given a con amore description of the 
localities; and Heine has supplied some curious particulars in 
the first volume of his Heitebilder» Dr. Schubart says, that, as 
the Greeks had their Olympus, the Jews thcir Sinai, the Spaniards 
tlieir Montserrat, the Indians the Himelaya mountains, so have the 
Germans their Blocksberg. In the case of the Blocksberge however, 
there are assignable causes for the superstitions associated with it, in 
addition to that which the wildness of the mountain affords. On 
^ 

* See Gotschalk's Tasd|enbucb, fUr Reisende in den Hariz, or Mr. 
Mxuraj*» Handbook. 



200 NOTES. 

the first establishment of Chrifttianity, the Draids are Said to have 
taken refuge on it; and the lights and noises attendant on the 
celehration of their rites were mistaken by the surrounding peasantry 
for »orcery. In one of Goethe'a minor poems, 2>i« erste Walpiir» 
gisTMcJUf spiritedly translated by Dr. Anster, the effects of this belief 
are vividly pourtrayed. Another cause is to be found in a pheno- 
menon thus described by the author of Waverley. " The solitudes 
of the Harpz forest in Germany, but especially the mountains called 
Blocksberg, or rather Brockenburg, are the chosen scenes for the " 
tales of \fdtche8, demons, and apparitions. The occupation of the 
inhabitants, vho are either miners or foresters, is of a kind that ren- 
ders them peculiarly prone to superstition, and the natural pheiKH 
mena which they witness in pursuit of their solitary or aubterraneous 
profession, are often set down by them to the interfcrence of goblins 
or the power of magic. Among the various legeiids current in that 
wild country, there is a favourite one, which supposes the Hai'tz to 
be haunted with a kind of tutelar demon, in the shape of a wild 
man, of huge stature, bis head wreathed with oak-leaves, and bis 
middle cinctured with the same, bearing in bis band a pine tom up 
by the roots. It is certain that many profess to have seen such a 
form traversing, with huge strides, in a line parallel to their own 
conrse, the opposite ridge of a mountain, when divided from it by a 
narrow glen ; and indeed the fact of the apparition is so generally 
admitted, that modern scepticism has only found refuge by ascribing 
it to optical deception," — j?%6 Antiquary, vol. i. p. 249. 

This optical deception admits of a simple explanation : — ^** When 
the rising sun throws bis rays over the Brocken upon the body of 
a man Standing opposite to fine light clouds floating around or 
hovering past him, he needs only fix bis eye steadily upon them, 
and in all probability he will see the singular spectacle of bis own 
shadow extending to the length of five or. six hundred feet, at the » 
distance of about two miles before him." — Hihhert on AppariiwnSj 
p. 440, note. Brew8ter*s Letters on Natural Magic, Lett. 6. 
In Mr. Gillics*s coUection of German storics, there is a very inte- 
resting one called The First of May ; or, WaZburga's Night 
Goethe*s little poem called Die Ha/rz Reise has no perceptible con- 
nection with the Harlz. 

P. 122. Through the stones, through the tv/rf, hroökand hrook- 
ling hv/rry down, — " Here and ihere on rushes the water, silvei^ 
clear, trickles among the stones, and bathes the naked roots and 
iibres. Again, in many places, the water spouts more freely from 
out of rocks and roots, and forms little cascades. There is auch a 



NOTES. 201 

Strange murmuring and rustling — the birds sing broken snatches of 
languisbing songs — the trees whisper as with thousands of maidens^ 
tongues ; as with thousands of maidens^ eyes the rare mountain 
flowers gaze upon us, and Stretch out towards us theh* singularly 
broad, conically forked leaves,** &c., &c. — Meine, JUeisebilder, vol. i. 
p. 173. See also bis account of the rise of the Ilse, p. 2*23. 

P. 122. Tvrwhitl — tVrwhoo. — 

** 'Tis the middle of night by the Castle clock, 
And the owls have awakened the crowing cock. 

Tu-whit ! — tu-whoo ! '* ChristdbeL 

P. 122. Änd the roots, like snahes, <Ssc. — " In consequence of 
the rocky nature of the ground, the roots are in many places unable 
to penetrate it, and Mrind, snake-like, over the huge blocks of 
granite, which lie scattered everywhere about, like huge play-balls, 
for the unearthly revellers to throw at each other on May-day 
night." — Beisebilder. 

P. 123. It scatters itself at cmce. — Shelley has translated 
vereinzelt sich — mcisses itself — probably under the notion of 
making the contrast more complete. But the nezt line — There 
tpa/rhs a/re glütering near, dsc. — shows clearly that the literal Ver- 
sion is the proper one. 

P. 123. JTow ihe storm-llast, <L'c, — 

** And now the Storm-Blast came, and he 
Was tyrannous and streng ; 
He Struck with bis o''ertaking wings, 
And chased us south along.*' 

The jRime ofthe Äncient Mariner. 

** Windsbraut, ein in Hochdeutschen veraltetes Wort, einen 
Sturm zu bezeichnen, "welches nach Apost. 27. 14. vorkommt; auch 
in der Schweiz und andern Oberdeutschen Gegenden üblich ist." — 
Adelu/ng. 

" Nicht lang aber darnach erhob sich wider ihr Vornehmen eine 
Windsbraut, die man nennete Nordost.'* — Oerman Bible. 

** But not long after there arose against it a tempestuous wind, 
called Euroclydon." — English Bible, 

P. 124. Sir Urian. — This is a common name for the devil in 



202 KOTES. 

jGrennany. Voland (jpott) ia, l believe, one of the names of 
Beelzebub. 

P. 124. The mtck », ike Tie-goat *. — In Aristo- 

phanic language — the witch TfpBirai, the he-goat KtyaßpSL 

P. 124. J3y lUensUin. — Ilsenstein is a high granite rock on the 
Brocken, so called from the brook lUe, which, according to tiadi- 
tion, was originallj a princess. Felsensee (rock-lake) is another of 
the localities. 

P. 124. For, in going to the house of the uficked one, womcm ii 
a ihotucmd stepe in ctdvance. — ** This princess was so far from being 
influenced by scruples that sbe was as wicked as woman coold be, 
which is not saying a little, for the sex pique themselves on their 
Buperiority in every competition.** — Vathek. 

P. 125. MaJee roomy »weet people. — Probably an allusion to 
yow m/oet tweet voices, in Coriolanns. 

P. 127. Now that Icucend the witchrmountmnfor the last time, 
—^" And because the contradictions of life and thought have 
reached their highest pitch, but at the same time have found their 
end' and Solution, does Mephistopheles convince himself tttat be 
has asoended the Blocksberg for die last time?** — l/^)er Ooethe^i 
Faust, Leipzig, 

P. 128. There is no dagger here, Ac, — Goethe had probably 
read Ta/m, o^Shanter before writing this: — 

'* Coffins stood round like open presses, 
That shaw'd the dead in their last dresses ; 
And by some devilish cantrip slight, 
Each in his cauld band held a light, — 
By which heroic Tam was able 
To note upon the haly table, 
A murderer*s banes in gibbet airns ; 
Twa span-lang, wee, unchristen'd baims ; 
A thief, new cutted frae a rape, 
Wi* his last gasp his gab did gape ; 
Five tomahawks wi^ blnid red-nisted; 
Five scymitars, wi* murder crusted ; 
A garter, which a habe had strangled ; 
A knife, a father*s throat had mangled, 
Whom his ain son o' life bereft, 
The gray hairs yet Stack to the heft.** 



NOTES. 203 

Goethe^s poem of Der TodUntcmz^ however, clearly preceded 
Tarn 0* Shanter. 

P. 128. Lüith. — I have received several Suggestion« as to Lilith. 
The following passage, (for -which I have to thank Dr. Rosen), 
extracted from Gesenius's Commentarj on Isaiah, (Leipz. 1821, 
8 VC, vol. i. p. 916), is the füllest and most satisfactory : — 

" Lilith, e)*'?"'? (noctwma^f is, in the populär bclicf of the 

HebrewB, a female spectre in the shape of a finely-drcsscd woman, 
which, in particular, lies in wait for and kills children, like the 
Lamiae and Striges amongst the Romans. — See Horace, Art. Poet. 
340 ; Ovid, Fast. vi. 123. This is the Rabbinical account, and 
the superstition appears old, as it is to be found in the same form, and 
with little Variation, amongst alj othcr people. More recently they 
themselves have brought it into a kind of System, and tumed Lilith 
nto a wife of Adam*8 on vrhom he begot demons, tvnd who still has 
power to lie with men and kill children -who are not protected by 
amulets, mth which the Jews of a still later period supply them- 
selves as a protection against her. — S. Buxtorf, Lexicon. Talmudic, 
p. 1140; Eisenmcnger''s Entdecktes Juden thum, vol. ii. p. 413, eil 
teq. ^ See also Brownes Jewish Antiquities, vol. ii. p. 273. 

Burton teils us : " The Talmudir.ts say that Adam had a wife 
called Lilis before hemarried Eve, and of her he begat nothing bat 
devils." — Anat. of MeUmnlioly^ Part 1, Sect. 2, Subsec. 2. 

At the ond of a leamed etymological commentary on the word 
lAMcäyy in the Encyclopsedia Metropolitana, is the following 
mention of Lilith, quoted as a MS. note on Skinner ; ^ Christiani 
quondam a Judseis edocti, Dsemonem esse quandam maleficam, 
nomine Lilith, qusD infahtes recenter natos necare aut saltem sup- 
ponere consuevit, atque adeo nutrices infantibus dormitantibus 
cantilare solitas LiMa, a&i, ahi I unde noatrum LuUaby." 

Herder, in bis IHchttmgen au8 der VorweU^ represents Adam as 
not marrying Eve until after Lilis had rejected him on account of 
bis earthly cxtraction. 

Miss Letitia Hawkins calls Eve an overgrown baby, with nothing 
to recommend her, but her Submission and her fine hair. 

P. 129. ProcTUophamtasmist. — The person intended is now gene- 
rally understood to be Nicolai of Berlin, a writer who once enjoyed 
a considerable reputation of Germany, and through the medium of 
the Allgemeine I>eutsche Bibliothek, a periodical work established 
by him about 1765 in co-operation with Lessing and Mendelsohn, 
•xercised for nearly twenty years a widely-spi-ead influence upon 



204 KOTES. 

Gennan literatnre. The severity of bis critidsrns, written in acold 
prosftic spirit, involved him in many dispute« ; among othen, vritli 
Wieland, Fichte, Herder, Lavater, and Goethe. He had also given 
ofience to Goethe, by piiblishing a parody on The Suffcrings of 
Werther, entitled " The Joys of Werther,'* in \?hich Werther is 
made to shoot himself "with a pistol loaded with chicken's blood, 
and recovers and lives happily. Goethe judiciously carried on the 
joke by writing a continuation, in \7hich Werther, though alive, is 
represented as blinded by the blood, and bewailing bis ill fortune in 
not being able to see the beauties of Charlotte. Goethe says that 
bis reply, though only circulated in manuscript, deprived Nicolai of 
all literary consideration. He speaks of him as a man of talent, 
bat incapable of allowing merit in anything which went the least 
beyond bis own contracted notions of excellence : — 

** Was schiert mich der Berliner Bann 
Geschmäckler-Pfaffenwesen ! 
Und wer mich nicht verstehen kann 
Der lerne besser lesen." — Ooethe, 

" To the very last,** says Mr. Carlyle, " Nicolai never could 
persuade himself, that there was anything in heaven or earth that was 
not dreamt of in hia philosophy. He was animated with a fierce 
zeal against Jesuits ; in this, most people thought bim partly right ; 
but when he wrote against Eant*8 philosophy, without comprehend- 
iug it, and judged of poetry as he judged of Brunswick mum, by 
its Utility j many people thought him wrong. A man of such 
Spiritual habitudes is now by the Germans calied a Philister, Phi' 
listine. Nicolai eamed for himself the painful pre-eminence of 
being Erz-Phüistinef Arch-Philistine.** — Oerman JRomcmce, vol. 
iv. p. 15. 

In 1791 mental agitation produced such an efFect on bis nerves, 
that for several weeks he appeared to himself continually sur- 
rounded with pbantoms, whom he distinctly knew, bowever, to be 
mere creations of bis imagination. An account of bis nuüady, 
drawn up by the sufferer himself, is quoted by Dr. Hibbert 
(Theory of Apparitions) and may be seen in Nicholson*s Pbiloso- 
phical Journal, vol. vi. p. 161. Bleeding by leeches was one of 
the remedies resorted to ; this ezplains the subsequent allusion to 
thom. He died in 1811. 

The phrase, es spvkt inTegel,hti» sadlypuzzled both translatorsand 
commentators. Tegel is a small place about eigth or ten miles from 
Berlin. In the year 1 799, the inhabitants of Berlin, who pride them- 
selves very bighly on their enlightenment, were fidrly taken in by the 



NOTES. 205 

Story of a ghost, said to hatint the dwelling of a Mr. Schulz at 
Tegel. No less ihan two commissions of distinguished persona 
set forth to inyestigate the character of the apparition. The first 
betook themselves to the house on the 13th of September, 1797^ 
waited from eleven at night tili one in the moming, heard a noise, 
and saw nothing. The second partj were nctore fortunate, for one 
of them rushed with such precipitation towards the place from 
whence the noise proceeded, that the ghost was under the necessity of 
decamping in a hurry, leaving the instruments with which he noiade 
the noise (rery clumsy contrivances) as spolia opima to the conque- 
Tors. Thus began and ended the Tegel ghost^s career, who how- 
ever fuUy rivalled our Cock-lane ghost in celcbrity, and gave rise 
to a good deal of controversy. This Statement is taken from an 
acconnt published in 1798, in 8vo, with tho motto : — " Partniiunt 
montes, nascetur ridiculus mus.^ Dr. Hitzig (to whom I am in- 
debted for it) proposes the following Interpretation : — 

*' We Berlin folks (enlightened by me Nicolai) are so wise (so 
free from prsjudice) and Tegel is haunted notwithstanding ( we not- 
withstanding suffer our heads to be tumed by a ghost story, so 
stupid as this of Tegel.*') 

Shelley and M. Stapfer say Brocktophantannist. This alteration 
destroys the etymology, which the alludon to the Iceches shows to 
be HpcoKTOs, 

P. 130. Ä red numse jumped <hU ofher mouth. — ^ The follow- 
ing incident occurred at a nobleman's seat at Thüringen, about the 
beginning of the seventeenth Century. The servants were paring 
fruit in the room, when a girl becoming sleepy, lefi the others and 
laid herseif down, apart but not far off, on a bank, to repose. After 
she had lain still a short time, a little red mouse crept out of her 
mouth, which was open. Most of the people saw it, and showed it 
to one another. The mouse ran hastily to the open window, orept 
through, and remained a short space without. A forward waiting- 
maid, whose curiosity was excited by what she saw, spite of the re- 
monstrances of the rest, went up to the inanimate maiden, shook 
her, and removed her to another place a little further off, and then 
lefr her. Shortly afterwards the mouse retumed, ran to the former 
fioniliar spot, where it had crept out of the maiden's mouth, ran up 
and down as if it could not find its way and was at a loss what to 
do, and then disappeared. The maiden, however, was dead, and 
remained dead. The forward waiting-maid repented of what she 
had done in vain. In the same establishment, a lad had before then 
been often tormented by the sorceress and could have no peace ;• 
this ceased on the maiden's death.** — DeiUsche Sagen, No. 247. 



206 NOTES. 

The Barne vork contains a story of two maidens who were accus- 
tomed to dispatch their souls on evil errande in the shape of smoke, 
and a story of a maiden -whose soul nsed to leave her in the shape 
of a cat (No8. 248, 249) ; but I find nothing about a gray mouse. 

P. 130. Hie hlood of man thickens <U itt chitt look.^^ 

** Her lips were red, her looks were free, 
Her locks were yellow as gold. 
Her skin was as white as leprosy, 
The Night-Mair Life-in-Death was she 
Who thicks man^s hlood with cold." — 

Coleridge, Birne of the Äncimt Mariner. 

The term Idol must be understood in the eense ofMdolotk 

P. 172. Äa merrytuin the Prater. — AUuding to the Prater 
of Vienna. 

P. 131. When Ifind you npon the Blocksberg. — Towisha 
man upon the Blocksberg — Ich wwnsche den Kerl auf dem, 
Blocksberg — is like wishing him at the devil, in English. This 
Speech has in German the effect of a pun. 

P. 133. The IfUermezzo. — It is quite impossible to convey to 
the English reader more than a very faint notion of this scene. 
The effect is prodnced almost exclusively by satirical allusions, 
quaintly rhymed, to things and persons not generally known even 
in Grermany ; though no one who has cver witnessed the dehgbt 
with which Germans belonging to the inner cirde of educated 
Society dwell upon it, can doubt that it possesses merit of a high 
Order in its way. It is impossible to explain all the allusions 
without rambling far beyond the limits of a note. I must, there- 
fore, confine myself to such particulars as admit of compression. 

The Midsummer Night^s Dream and Wieland's Oberon have 
fumished the basis of the first seven or eight stanzas and some of 
the last. 

Mieding, mentioned in the first couplet, was scene-painter tothe 
Weimar Theatre. Goethe has immortalised him by a little poem 
on bis death : — 

** Wie ! Mieding todt ? erschallt bis unteres Dach 
Das hohle Haus, von Echo kehrt ein Ach! 
Die Arbeit stockt, die Hand wird jedem schwer, 
Der Leim vfvrd TcaÜ^ die Fa/rbefliesst nicht mehr,^ 



NOTES. 207 

There are other lines in the poeni, however« \frhich would ratber 
lead me to suppose him stagie-manager. He is mentioned by 
Döbring (p. 198). 

Tbe Inquisitiye Traveller is Nicolai ; and tbe allusion to tbe 
stiff man smelling after Jesuits is to bim. He bad written Tra- 
vels füll of denunciations of popery. 

I bave been told tbat tbe words put into tbe moutb of tbe 
nortbem artist are intended as a quiz on tbe style of expression 
affected by tbe German artists of tbe day, but I ratber tbiuk tbey 
allude to 6oetbe*s own Italian Jonrney, "wbicb migbt be almost 
Said to bave revolutionised bis mind. A distinguisbed German 
critic tbiuks tbat Femow is tbe person alluded to. 

Tbe Gods of Greece — Die Cfötter ChiechenUmd» — ^is tbe title 
of a well-known poem of Scbiller^s, \frbicb somewbat scandalised 
the strict people of bis day. Some useful notes upon it are con- 
tained in Klattowsky's Manual. 

Tbe Purist is said to typify a scbool of critics vbo affected great 
zeal for purity of expression, and strict attention to costume, upon 
tbe stage. 

Tbe Xenien, as is well known, is tbe name given by Goetbe and 
Scbiller to verses, mostly satirical or epigrammatical, wbicb tbey 
publisbcd from time to time in co-partnersbip. Tbese formed an 
important era in Geiman literature. ** A war of all tbe fcw good 
beäds in tbe nation, witb all tbe many bad ones, (says Mr. Carlyle,) 
began in Scbiller^s MusenaJmaTUKh for 1793. Tbe Xenien (in 
anotber place be names the Hören along 'witb them), a series of 
Philosophie epigrams, jointly by Schiller and Goethe, descended 
there unexpectedly, like a flood of etbereal fire, on tbe German 
literary world ; quickening all tbat was noble into new life, but 
visiting the ancient empire of duUness 'with astonishment and 
unknown pangs/* Tbe war migbt bave been commenced in this 
manner, but tbe bürden of maintaining it (as Mr. Carlyle bimself 
half admits in anotber place *) certainly feil upon tbe Schlegels 
and Tieck, to whose admirable critical productions the Xenien 
bears about the same relation tbat tbe sbarp-sbooters bear to the 
regulär army. 

Tbe Genius of the Age and The Musaget were tbe names of 
literary Journals edited by Hennings ; who was at different times 
in controversy with tbe Schlegels, Scbiller, and Goethe. Hennings 
is also attacked in the Xenien. One of Goethe*s minor poems is 
entitled Die Miuageten. 

The extent of the German Pamassus is an old joke. A few 

* German Romanoe, vol. ü., p. 8. 



208 NOTES. 

yean since it was computed that there were no less than foarteen 
thoueand living authon in Germany. Goethe wrote a little pocm 
entitled Deutscher Famaaty in which he spiritedly apostrophiseB 
the invading crowd : — 

** Ach, die Büsche sind geknickt ! 
Ach, die Blumen sind erstickt I 
Von der Sohlen dieser Brut — 
Wer hegegnet ihrer Wuth ?^ 

The Crane is said to mean Herder . To the best of my Informa- 
tion, Irrlichter means parventu : and Stemschwuppe a sort of 
poetical Icarus, who mounts like a rocket and comes down like the 
stick. Most of the other allusions refer to well-known classes in 
Society, or to sects or schools in metaphyoical philosophy. 

M. de Schlegel told me that the allusions in -the Intermezzo 
were not present to his memory, and finding that it would cost him 
some trouble to recover the train, I did not press my request for an 
explanation of them, though his very interesting letter on Goethe^s 
ü^v/mph der Empfindsamkeit^ addressed to M. de Remusat and 
published in the third volume of the Th^ätre ÄUemand, was a 
powerful temptation. The first paragraph of this letter may help 
to explain why it is so difficult to write notes upon Goethe : 
— " J'ai T^cu quelques ann^es pres de Goethe (says M. de Schlegel) 
lorsqu'il ^tait dans la force de l'&ge et dans la maturit^ de son 
g^nie ; j*ai souvent pass€ des joumees entieres avec lui, et nous 
avons beaucoup cause' sur ses ouvrages ; mais 11 n*aimait guere ä 
donner des explications, comme aussi il n'a jamais voulu feire des 
prÄaces." 

M. Vamhagen von Ense teils me that many more verses were 
originally composed for the Intermezzo. 

Goldene Hochzeit means the fiftieth annirersary of a maniage ; 
Stlheme Hochzeit, the twenty-fifth. 

P. 140. Sentence-pasdng, tmfeeling mom, — 

. " O plead 

With famine, or wind-walking pestilence, 
Blmd lightning, or the deaf sea, not with man ! 
Cruel, cold, formal, man.'' — 

Shelley — The Cmci. 

.„^LI^*?* ^i ^^^ ^^ *^ f^i «fec—This alludes to a prevalent 
superstition,that evilspirits will sometimes place themselvesin the 
paui ot a foot passenger, in tho shape of a dog or other animal, wi A 



NOTES. 209 

the view of tripping him tip and spriDging upon him when down. 
Thus Caliban, in aUusion to the spirits eet upon him by Prospero : — 

** Seme time like apes, that moe and chatter at me, 
And after, bite me ; then like hedge-hogs, which 
Lie tumbling in my bane-foot vraj." 

Tempest, Act ü sc. 2. 

P. 143. Whca ttre ihey worhing — ahowt the JRavenstone yonder t 
^—2%e Rahenstein is bo called because ravens are often seen hover- 
ing round it. Retzsch^s outline is the best commentary. 

P. 144. And her crime vhu a good delusion. — 

** Wehe ! — ^menschlich hat diess Herz empfunden ! 
Und Empfindung soll mein Richtschwert seyn ! 
Weh* ! vom Arm des falschen Manuls umwunden 
Schlief Luisen^B Tugend ein.*'— ÄcÄi^fer.f - "* -'^' 

P. 144. Jify mother, ihe fohorcy d;c, — This song is founded on 
a populär German story, to be found in the Kmäer-umd Hau»- 
M'drch&n of the distinguished brothers Grimm, under the title of 
V<m 46n Mcbchandel'BooMf and in the English selection from 
that work (entitled Oerman Populär Storieä) under the title of 
The Jtmiper Tree, — The wife of a rieh man, whilst Standing under 
a juniper tree, wishes for a little child as white as snow and as red 
as blood ; and on another occasion expresses a wish to be buried 
under the juniper when dead. Soon after, a little boy as white as 
snow and as red as blood is bom : the mother dies of joy at behold- 
ing it, and is buried according to her wish. The husband manies 
again, and has a daughter. The second wife, becoming jealous of 
the boy, murders him and serves him up at table for the unconscious 
father to eat. The father finishes the whole dish, .nnd throws the 
bones under the table. The little girl, who is made the innocent 
assistant in her mother's villany, picks them up, ties them in a 
silk handkerchief, and buries them under the juniper tree. The 
tree begins to move its branches mysteriously, and then a kind of 
cloud rises from it, a fire appears in the cloud, and out of the fire 
comes a beautifiil bird, which flies about singing the following 
song:— 

^ Min Moder de mi slacht% 
Min Yader de mi att, 
Min Swester de Marleenken 
Söcht alle mine Beeniken, 
P 



810 KOTES. 

Un bindt sie in een syden Dook, 

Legts unner den Machandelboom ; 

Kywitt ! Kywitt ! ach watt en schön Vagel bin ich ?** 

The litcial tranalation would be — 

My mother who slew me, 

My father who ate me, 

My sister Mary Anne 

Gathers all my bones 

And bind« them np in a silk handkerchief, 

Lays them nnder the junipcr tree. 

Kywitt 1 Kywitt ! ah what a beautifiil bird am I. 

It 'will be doing an acceptable Service to those who love to tiaoe 
poetical analogies, to remind them of Wordsworth*s exquisite little 
poem of Ruth : — 

** God help thee, Rnth ! Such pains the had 
That she in half a ycar was mad, 
And in a prison housed ; 
And there she sang tumultuous songs, 
By recollection of her wrongs, 
To fearful passion roused/* 

P. 145. / wcuf<dry too, cmd that was m/y wadomg," — 
** Trauet nicht den Rosen euxer Jugend, 
Trauet, Schwestern, Männertchwüren nie ! 
Schönheit war die Falle meiner Tugend 
Auf der Richstatt hier verfluch' ich sie P 

Most readers will recollect Filicaja*s sonnet, and the beautüiil 
stanzas inChilde Harold founded on it : — 

^ Italia ! oh Italia ! thou who hast 
The &tal gift of beauty." 

Öwnfyi 4, Stamsm 42 dk 43. 

** Yet Vane could teil what ills from beauty spring. 
And Sedley cursed the form that pleased a king.*' 

JoTmson, Vcmity of Huma/a Wishes. 

P. 147« I^ what is poKtt he past, — 

« Oh Mutter! Mutter! Hin ist hin! 
Verloren ist verloren ! 
Der Tod, der Tod ist mein Gewinn, 
war* ich nie geboren T 

Bürffer, Lenore. 



NOTES. 211 

P. 148. Keep ikepoü^ uphythe brooh'-'Over Ihe hridge^-^imto 
ihe wood — to the left,where ihe pUMhk'ü, — 

** Half-breathlesB from the eteep hill's edge 
They tracked the footmarks small ; 
And through the hroken hawthom-hedgey 
And by the long stone-wall. 

And then an open field they croBsed : 
The marke were still the same ; 
They tracked them on, nor ever lost ; 
And to the bridge they camo. 

They followed from the snowy bank 
Those footmarks, one by one, 
Into the middle of the plank ; 
And farther there were none P* 

Wordtworthy Lucy^Qray, 

P, 148. The staff hreaks* — The signal for the ezecutioner to do 
his duty, is given by the breaking of a ivand or staff. 

P. 148. 'Hie hhod^eat, — ** This alludes to the German custom 
of tying the unfortunate female that is to be beheaded on a wooden 
chair. Males on snch melancholy occasions aire kneeling on a little 
heap of sand.*^ — BoUeau^s Hemarka, p. 19. 

P. 149. 7e Hohf Eotta, rcmge ycmnelvea round a!k<yiU to 
gua/rd me. — 

" Save me, and hover o'er me with yonr wings, 
Ye heaveuly guards l'^^-^Eamtei^ Act 3, Sc. 4. 

P. 149. She ü jttdffed. — Some difierence of opinion preT«Üs as 
to the concluding sentences of this scene. The moie poetical inter- 
pretation is, that Margaret dies after pronouncing the last words 
assigned to her ; that the judgment of Heaven is prononnced upon 
her as her spirit parts; that Mephistoph\sles annoonces it in his 
usual sardonic and deceitful style ; that the voiicefrom ahove makes 
known its real purport ; and that the vou^ from mthin, dying atoay, 
is Margaret*8 spirit calling to her lover on its way to heaven, whilst 
her body lies dead upon the stage. This is the only mode in which 
the voice from withint dyvng avmy^ can be accounted for. M. de 
Sohlegel, howeyer, certainly the highest living authority on such 

P2 



212 irOTES. 

matters, says i **8ieid gefichUt, ee rapporte k k sentenoe de mort 
prononcee par le juge ; les mots smvaiits, Sie ist gerettet, au salat 
de 8on 4me.^ It has been contended that SU igt gerichtet refen 
both to the judgment in heaven and to the judgment npon earth. 
As to tlie tnmslation of the passage, no doubt caa well ezist, for* 
richt&n is litetally to jtidge, and is constantly used in the predse 
sense the aboye interpretation attributes to it; for instance, Die 
Lebendigen wnd die Todten zu richten, t9 jtidge the quick and 
thedead. 



APPENDIX. 



APPENDIX, No. I. 



C0NTAININ6 AN ABSTBACT OF THE SECOND PART OF FAUST, AND 
SOHE ACCOUNT OF THE CIBCUMSTANCBS UNDES WHICU IT 
WAS COMPOSED. 

The heading, or stage direction, of the first scene is — '^ A 
pleasant country — Faust bedded upon flowery turf, tired, 
restless, endeavonring to sleep — Twilight — & circle of spi- 
rits hoyering round, graceful little fonns/' Ariel opens it 
with a song, accompanied by ^olian harps ; the othei 
spirits form a chorus, and Faust gives voice to the emo- 
tions which the rising sun (veiy beautifully described) 
awakens in him. 

The next scene is laid in the emperor's court — what em- 

Eeror, does not appear. He is seated in fall pomp upon 
is throne, surrounded by all his officers of State, to whom 
he condescendingly addresses himself ; — " I greet my true, 
my loying subjects, congregated from far and near ; I see 
the sage (meaning the astrologer) at my side, but where 
tarries the fool ? " The fool, it seems, has just been carried 
out dmnk or in a fit, most probably by the contrivance of 
Mephistopheles, who instantly steps forward in his place 
and proposes a riddle to his majesty. He puts it aside 
with the remark, that riddles are for his Council, and only 
(it is to be inferred) simple, unadulterated folly for hiniseli. 
The new fool, however, is reffularly installed ; the emperor 
opens the Conference, and a& the high officers give their 
opinions upon the existing state of the realm, than which 
nothing can well be worse. The chancellor complains of the 



216 APPENDIX. 

neglect of the laws^ the commander-in-chief of the insab- 
ordination of the army, the marshal of the household of 
the waste in the kitchen, and the first lord of the treasuiy 
expatiates on the empty State of his coffers, the grand source 
of all the other evils. The emperor, sorely pumed, reflects 
a moment, and then turns to the fool, or rather to Mephis- 
topheles disguised as such : '' Speak, fool, dost thou too 
know of no matter of complaint ? " Mephistopheles replies 
in the negative, and expresses his astonishment that any- 
thing should he wanting where so mach glittering spien- 
dour was to he seen. This calls forth a murmur from the 
courtiers, and Mephistopheles is made the suhject of a fair 
share of insinuation and abuse ; bat he proceeds notwith- 
Standing and developes his plan, which is to begin digging 
for subterraneoas treasares immediately ; as all sach, he 
observes, belong of right to the emperor. This plan is 
.generally approved by all bat the chancellor, who does not 
think it in exact accordance with religion ; and the emperor 
himself declares his intention of \a.ymg aside his sword and 
sceptre, and setting to work in his own proper person im- 
mediately. The astrologer, however, calls on them to 
mitigate their zeal, and first finish the celebration of the 
approaching camival. The emperor assents, and gives the 
Word for a general rejoicing accordingly ; the trumpets 
soand, and exeunt omnes bat Mephistopheles, who con- 
clades the scene with a sneer : " How desert and good for- 
tune are linked together, this never occars to fools ; if they 
had the stone of the philosopher, they would want the 
philosbpher for the stone.** 

The sabject of the next scene is a mask got up by Faust 
for the amasement of the emperor, irregulär and extra- 
vagant in the extreme. Gardeners, flower-girls, olive- 
branchea, rose-buds,fishermen, bird-catchers,woQd-hewers, 
parasites, satirists, the Graces, the Parese, the Furies, Fear, 
Hope, Prudence, Zoilo-Thersites, Pan, Plutus, Fauns, 
Gnomes, Satyrs^ Nymphs, are amongst the things and per- 
sons which come forward in the coarse of the entertainment. 
The Verses placed in their mouths are often very beautiful, 
but appear to have no reference to a plot. There is also 
some clever general satire. The scene closes, like most of 



APPENDIX 217 

onr melodi-ames, with a general blaze, which is also de- 
scribed with great spirit by the herald. 

The next scene is in one of the palace pleasnre gardens^ 
where the court is found assembled as before, and the em- 
peror is represented thanking Faust for the mask and con- 
gratulating himself on having discovered such a treasure of 
a man. Their converse is suddenly interrupted by the en- 
trance of the marshal of the household, the commander-in- 
chief and the lord treasurer, to announce that all their dis- 
tresses have been suddenly removed by the creation of an 
odd sort of paper-money, bills promising payment in the 
emperor's name when the subterranean treasure before 
meutioned shall be dug up. The circulation of this paper 
appears to have produced nearly the same effect in the em- 
peror's dominions as the South Sea scheme in England or 
Law's project in France, which, we presume, it must be in- 
tended to ridicule. The people are represented as running 
absolutely wild at their fancied accession bf wealth, and the 
emperor amuses himself by bestowing portions of it on the 
foUowers of his court, on condition of their declaring what 
use they intend to make of what they receive. The hu- 
monr tnus elicited does not rise beyond common-place. 
One says that he will lead a merry lifo upon it, a second 
that he will buy chains and rings for his sweetheart, a third 
has a fancy for good wine, and a fourth for sausages ; a fifth 
proposes to redeem his mortgages, and a sixth to add it to 
nis noard. The. fool comes last, and might well have been 
expected to say something sharp, but he simply avows a 
wish to become a landholder, and yet is complimented by 
Mephistopheles on his wit. Faust and Mephistopheles are 
then represented Walking in a dark gallery, whither Faust 
has withdrawn Mephistopheles to procure the means of 
exhibiting Helen and Paris before the emperor, to whom 
he has pledged his word to that effect. Mephistopheles 
answers at first evasively : he has nothing (he sajrs) to do 
with the heathen world, they live in a hell of their own ; 
there is one mode, however ; — Faust must repair to certain 
goddesses called, par eminence, The Mothers,* d wellini; in 

* Ihave never yet met with any one who could teil me what 
Die Mütter means. 



218 APPENDIX. 

the deepest recesses of nnearthly solitndes, throngh which 
he is to be guided by a key bestowed for that purpose by 
Mephistopheles. Faust shndders at the name, bat under- 
takefl the adventure and sets oat. 

The following scene represents the assembling of the 
conrt ; Mephistopheles eures a blonde beauty of freckles, 
and a brünette of lameness, and bestows a love-potion on 
a third ; after which exploite, we proceed to the grand hall, 
where the emperor and nis suite are awaiting the arrival of 
Faust for ihe promised speetacle to begin. He appears at 
last, emerging as it were from the stage ; he is'dressed in 
sacnficial robes, and a tripod accompanies him. By the aid 
of the Mothers, and the application of a charmed key which 
he has with him, he brinffs first Paris and tben Helen upon 
the stage. For a time, all goes on well, and we are amused 
by the remarks of the courtiers, male and female, on the 
beauty and her lover, when on Paris behaving with some- 
thing like rudeness to Helen, Faust gets jealous and inter- 
feres. An explosion is heard, the spirits ascend in vapour, 
and Faust, prostrated by the shock, is bome off senseless 
by Mephistopheles. 

80 ends the first act. At the commencement of the se- 
cond, we find Faust laid on an old-fashioned bed in bis old 
study, with Mephistopheles attending him. '* He whom 
Helen pandyses (says the latter) comes not easily to his 
senses again." From a conversation between Mephisto- 
pheles and an attendant, it appears that, ever since Faust's 
disappearance, Wagner has Uved on in his house, and has 
now attained to almost as great a reputation as his master. 
At the openiug of the scene, he has been long busied in 
his laboratory, endeavouring, like another Frajikenstein, 
to discover the principle of life. To make the train of old 
associations complete, the Student, now a Bachelor, enters, 
and thus afifords us an opportunity of seeiug how far he 
has profited by Mephistopheles' advice. It seems that he 
is become a conyert to Idealism, and he makes a speech 
in which Fichte's System is quizzed. 

After this dialogue we are conducted into Wagner's 
laboratory, who has just suceeeded in manufacturing an 
Homunculus, a cleyer little imp, incarcerated in a bottle^ 



▲PFBNDIX. 210 

beaniif; a strong resemblance to the Devil upon Two Sticks. 
He is introdnced apparentlj to act as a guide to the das- 
lieal WaljpuigiB Ni^t; Mephistopheles, as has been 
already intimated, having no Jurisdiction over the heathen 
World. Of this Classical Walpiirgis Ni^ht itself, which 
oceupies the next sixty or seventy pages, it is qnite impo»- 
sible to giye anything like a regulär description or analysis ; 
thongh the readers of the First Part of Faust may form 
some notion of it on beins told, that it is formea upon 
pretty nearly the same plan as the wilder part of the 
scenes npon the Blocksberg, with the difference, that all 
the characters are classical. The nxunber of these is pro- 
digious. Besides monsters of varions sorts, we find Erichtho^ 
the Sphynx, the Sirens, the Pigmies, the Nymphs, Chiron, 
talking Daclyls, Lami», Anaxagoras, Thaies, Dryas, Phor- 
kyas, Nereids, Tritons, Nerens, Proteus, and many other 
less familiär names whichit wonldbe wearisome to recapitn- 
late, all scattering apophthegms or allnsions at landom, with 
(we say it with all due hnmility) very Httle immediate 
fitness or point. 

The Helena, which in some sense may be considered a 
part of the Classical Walpui^s Night, follows, and forms 
the third act of the continnation.* 

Helen enters npon the stage (before the palace of Mene- 
laos at Sparta) accompanied by a chorus of captive Trojan 
women. From her opening speech, it appears that she has 
just landed ^th her lord, who has sent her on before, and 
is expected to follow immediately. She has been directed 
to prepare all things for a sacrifice, but on entering the 
pilace for this purpose, she enconnters an apparition in 
the shape of a gigantic old woman, who, before 'Helen has 
well done relatingwhat she had seen .to the chorus, comes 
forth in prt^prid^frsond, This is Pfibrkyas, who begins 
by upbraidmg Helen, and gets into a not very edifjring 
squabble with her maids. But the main object is to 
frighten them away ; with this view Phorkyas plays on 
Helen's fearsby suggesting, that, amidst all the required pre- 
parations for tne sacrifice, nothing had yet transpired as to 

* See an Artide in the Foreign Review, toL i., p. 429, hj Mr. 
Carlyle, for a füll account of the Helena. 



220 APPENDIX. 

the intended victim, and that the victim was most probably 

herseif. It is farther intimated that the chorus had nothing 

very pleasing to look forward to, and Menelaus* treatmeiit 

of Deiphobns, whose nose and ears he cropped, is consi* 

derately alluded to in iUustration of the Spartan chief s 

mode of dealing with his enendes. The plan succeeds, 

and the Queen consents to fly to a neighbouring conntiy 

of barbarians, described in glowing colonrs by Phorkyas. 

Instantly clouds veil the scene, wnich shifts to the inner 

court of a town, surrounded by rieh fantastic buildings of 

the middle ages. She is here received by Faust, the lord 

of the place, who appears dragging along one Lynceas, his 

watchman, in chains, for not giving due notice of the 

beauty's approach. Lynceus excuses himself in fine flow- 

ing verse, and receives his pardon as a matter of course. 

Faust makes good use of his time, and is rapidly growing 

into high favour with Helen, when Phorkyas rushes in 

with the tidings that Menelaus, with all his army, is at 

band. Faust starts up to encounter the enemy, but, in- 

stead of being tumed into a battle field, the scene changes 

into a beautiful Arcadian landscape, set round with leafy 

bowers, amongst which Faust and Helen contrive to lose 

themselves for a time. Whilst they are out of sight, 

Phorkyas converses with the chorus, and amongst otiier 

topics describes to them a beautiful Gupid-like sort of boy, 

called Euphorien, who directly afterwards comes forward 

with Helen and Faust. This youngster, after exhorting 

by tums all the party to memment, and behaving with 

some rudeness to one of the young ladies of the chorus, 

who out of sheer modesty vanishes into air, Springs npon 

a high rock, talks wildly about battles and warlike fame, 

and finishes by bounding up into the air, through which 

he darts like a rocket, with a stream of brightness in bis 

train, leaving his clothes and lyre upon the ground. The 

act now hurries to a conclusion ; Helen bids Faust fare- 

well, and throws horself into his arms to give him a fare- 

well kiss, but the corporeal part of her vanishes, and only 

her Teil and vest remain in his embrace. These, however, 

also dissolve into clouds, which encircle Faust, lift him up 

on high, and finally fly away with him. Phorkyas picks 



APPENDIX. 221 

up Euphorion's clothes and lyre, and seats herseif by a 
pillar in the front of the stage. The leader of the chorus, 
supposing her to be gone for good and all, exhorts Üie 
chorus to avail themselves of the opportunity of retuming 
to Hades, which they decline^ sayT^ng, that as they have 
been given back to the light of the day, they prefer re- 
maining there, though at the same time well aware that 
they are no longer to be considered as persons. One part 
profess an Intention of remaining as Hamadryads, living 
among and having their being in trees ; a second propose 
to exist as echos ; a third, to be the animating spirits of 
brooks ; and a fourth, to take up their abode in yineyards. 
After this declaration of their respective intentions, the 
curtain falls, and Phorkyas, laying aside the mask and veil, 
comes forward in bis or her resd character of Mephisto- 
pheles, " to comment (this is the stage direction) so far as 
might be necessary, in the way of epilogue, on the piece." 
The fourth act is conversant with more familiär matters, 
but its bearing on the main action is equally remote. The 
scene is a high mountain. A cloud comes down and breaks ^ ^^ 
apart : Faust steps forth and soliloquises : a seven- mile 
boot walks up ; tnen another : then Mephistopheles, upon 
whose appearance the boots hurry off, and we see and hear 
no more of them. A dialogue takes place between Faust 
and Mephistopheles, in the course of which it appears 
that Faust has formed some new desire, which he teils 
Mephistopheles to guess. He guesses empire, pleasure, 
glory, but it is none of them : Faust has grown jealous of 
the daily encroachments of the sea, and bis wish is step by 
Step to shut it out. Just as this wish is uttered. the sound 
of trumpets is heard ; the cause is explained by Mephisto- 
pheles. Our old friend, the emperor, is advancing to en- 
counter a rival, whom bis ungrateful subjects have set up. 
Mephistopheles proposes to Faust to aid him and gain from 
bis gratitude the grant of a boundless extent of Strand for 
their experiment, to which Faust apparently consents. 
Three spirits are called up by Mephistopheles, in the 
guise of armed men,* to assist. Faust joins the emperor 's 

* See Samuel, b. ii. eh. xziii. v. 8 — 13. 



/ 



222 APPENDIX. 

army and proffen him the aid of his men. The fight 
commences, and is won by the magical assistance of Faust. 
Some of the changes of the battle are sketched with great 
force and spirit, as seen from the rising ground, where 
the emperor, Faust and Mephistopheles aie witnessing it.« 
The last scene of the act is laid in the rebel emperor's 
tent, where several planderers are busily engaged nntil 
distnrbed by the entrance of the yictorious emperor with 
four of his chiefs, each of whom he rewards with some 
post of honour. Then entere an archbishop, who re- 
reproaches the emperor for leaguing himself with sorcereis, 
and succeeds in extorting a handsome endowment for the 
church. 

The first scene of the fifth and last act represents an 
aged couple (Baucis and Philemon by name), extending 
their hospitaUty to a stranger. From a few words which 
drop from them, it appears that their cottaee Stands in the 
way of Faust's improvements, and that, Ahab-like, he has 
already manifested an undue eagemess to possess himself 
of it. The next scene represente a palace, with an exten- 
sive pleasure garden and a laige canal. Faust appears in 
extreme old age, and plunged in thought. The subject of 
his meditations is the cottage of the old couple, which 
" comes him cramping in," and spoils the synunetiy of his 
estate. A richly laden vessel arrives, but the cai^o fails 
to soothe him ; the little property which he does not pos- 
sess would embitter, he sajrs, the possession of a world. 
All is now deep night, and L3mceu8 the watchman is on 
his tower, when a ßre breaks out in the cottage of the old 
<^ouple. Mephistopheles, with three sailors belonging to 
the vessel, has set fire to the cottage, and the old couple 
perish in the conflagration. Without any inmiediate con- 
nection with the foregoing incidents,four grey old women 
are brought upon the stage — Guilt, Want, Gare, and Misery 
— ^and hold an uninteresting conversationwith Faust. We 

* There is hardly a dcscriptioii of any sort in the poem whick 
18 not plaoed in the mouth of some one looking down from a oom- 
manding point of view upon the scene. This was Sir Walter Scott*s 
favoorite mode of descrihing. Several instanoes are ennmerated in 
Mr. L. Adolphus^ Letters on the Author of Waverley p. 242 



APPENDIX. 228 

have then Mephistopheles acting as overseer to a sei of 
workmen (eartnly aa well as unearthly, it would seem) 
employed in consummating Fanst's wish of limiting the 
dominion of the waves. I shall give Faust *b dying words 
literally : — 

Faust, " A marsh extends along the moimtain*« foot, in- 
fecting all that is already won : to draw off the noisome pool 
— ^the last would he the crowning success ; I lay open a space 
for many millions to d well upon, not safely it is trne, hut in 
free activity ; the piain, green, and fruitful ; men and 
flocks forthwith maüe happy on the newest soü, forthwith 
settled on the mound's firm base, which the eager industry 
of the people has thrown np. Here within, a land like 
Paradise ; there withont, the flood may rage up to the brim, 
and as it nibhles poweifully to shoot in, the Community 
throngs to close up the openings. Yes, heart and soul am 
I devoted to this wish ; this is the last resolve of wisdom. 
He only deserves freedom and life, who is daily compelled 
to conquer them for himself ; and thus here, hemmed 
round by danger, bring childhood, manhood, and old age, 
their well-spent years to a close. I would fain see such 
a busy multitude, — stand upon free soll with free people. 
I jnight then say to the moment — ' Stay, thou art so fair !' 
The trace of my earthly days cannot perish in centuries. 
In the presentiment of such ezalted bliss, I now enjoy the 
most exalted moment. 

[Faust smkahack; the Lbmttres tahe htm icp and place 
htm v/pvn, the grmind. 

Mephistopheles. No pleasure satisfies him, no happiness 
Contents him ; so is he ever in pursuit of changing forma : 
the last, the worst, the empty moment, the poor one 
wishes to hold it fast. He who withstood me so yigorously ! 
Time has obtained the mastery ; here lies the greybeard 
in the dust ! The clock Stands still ! 

Chorus, Stands still \ It is as silent as midnight. The 
index band falls.*' 

The angels descend, and a contest ensues between them 
and Mephistopheles, hacked by his devils, for the soul of 
Faust. It is eventually won by the angels, who succeed 
by exciting the passions and so distracting the attention 



224 APPENDIX. 

of Mephistopheles. They fly ofip, and he is left solilo- 
qmsing thus : — 

Mephistopheles {looking round), ^' But how t whither 
are they gone ? Young as you are, yon have over-reached 
me. They have flown heavenwards with the booty ; for 
this they have been nibbling at this grave ! a great, sin- 
gularly precions treasure has been wrested from me ; the 
exalted soul which had pledged itself to me, this have 
they cunningly smuggled away from me. To whom must 
I now complam t Who will regain my fairly wen right 
for me ? Thou art cheated in thy old days ; thon hast 
deserved it ; matters tum out fearfally ill for thee. I 
have scandsdously mismanaged matters ; a great ontlay, 
to my shame, is thrown away ; common desire, absurd 
amorousness, take possession of the out-pitched devil« 
And if the old one, with all ' the wisdom of experience, 
has meddled in this childish, silly business, in truth, it is 
no small folly which Dossesses him at the close." 

The last scene is beaded — " Mountain defiles — Forest 
— Rock — Desert." The characters introduced are An- 
chorites, Fathers, Angels, and a band of female Penitents, 
amongst whom we recognise Margaret rejoicing over the 
salvation of Faust. The verses placed in their mouths 
are often very beautiful, but have little connection with 
each other and no reference to a plot. 

I will now add what has transpired as to the circnm- 
stances under which the continuation was composed. The 
first scene (down to p. 63 of the original) and the whole of 
the third act (the Helena) were published during Goethe's 
lifetime, in the last complete edition of his works. His 
views in publishing the Helena were explained in the 
Kunst und AUerthum by himself. The following extract 
applies to the general plan of the continuation : *^ I could 
not but wonder that none of those who undertook a con- 
tinuation and completion of my Fragments (the First Part) 
had lighted upon the thought seemingly so obvious, tliat 
the composition of a Second Part must necessarily elevate 
itself altogether away from the hampered sphere of the 
First, and conduct a man of such a nature into higher re- 
gions, under worthier circumstances. How I, for my part^ 



AFPENDnC. 225 

had determined to essay this, lay silently before my own 
mind from time to time, exciting me to some progress ; 
while from all and each I carefully guarded my secret, 
still in hope of bringing the work to the wished-for issne." 

I am also enabled to State in bis own words the manner 
in which this wished-for issue was brought abont ; — 

"I have now arranged the Second Part of Faust, which, 
during the last four years, I have taken up again in eamest, 
filled up chasms and connected together the matter I had 
ready by me, from beginning to end. 

" I hope I have succeeded in obliterating all difPerence 
between Earlier and Later. 

" I have known for a long time what I wanted, and even 
how I wanted it, and have bome it about within me for so 
many years as an inward tale of wonder — ^but I only exe- 
cuted portions which from time to timepeculiarly attracted 
me. The Second Part, then, must not and could not be so 
fragmentary as the First. The reason has more claim upon 
it, as has been seen in the part already printed. It has 
indeed at last required a most vigorous dietermination to 
work up the whole together in such a manner that it could 
stand before a cultivated mind. I, therefore, made a firm 
resolution that it should be finished before my birth-day. 
And so it was ; the whole lies before me, and I have only 
trifies to alter. And thus I seal it up ; and then it may 
increase the specific gravity of my succeeding volumes, l>e 
they what they may. 

'^ If it contains problems enough, (inasmuch as, like the 
history of man, the last solved problem ever produces a 
new one to solve,) it will nevertheless please those who 
understand by a gesture, a wink, a slight indication. They 
will find in it more than I could give. 

" And thus is a heavy stone now rolled over the summit 
of the mountain, and down on the other side. Others, how- 
ever, still lie behind me, which must be pushed onwards, 
that it may be fulfilled which was written, * Such labour 
hath God appointed to man.' " — Letter to M^yer^ dated 
Weimar y Jufy 20^Ä, 1831. 

I copy this from Mrs. Austin 's Characteristics, in which 
two other interesting passages relating to the same subject 



226 APPENDIX. 

occar. The following is translated from the Biblothequß 
Universelle of Geneva : — 

" Having once secared complete tranquillity on this head 
(his will), Goethe resumed his usual habits, and hastened 
to put. the last hand to his unpublished works ; either to 
publiäh them himself, if Heaven should grant him two or 
three years more of life, or to put them in a condition to 
be intrusted to an editor without burdening him with the 
responsibility of the corrections. He began with the most 
pressing. The Second Part of Faust was not finished ; 
Helena, which forms the third act, had been composed 
more than thirty years before, with the exception of the 
end, which is much more recent, and which certainly does 
not go back further than 1825. The two preceding acts 
had just been finished — there remained the two last. 
Goethe composed the fifth act first : then, but a few weeks 
before his death, he crowned his work by the fourth. This 
broken manner of working was, perhaps, not always his ; 
but it is explained in this case by the care he took to con- 
ceive his plan entire before he began to execute it ; to re- 
fiect upon it, sometimes for a long series of years, and to 
work out sometimes one pari, sometimes another, accord- 
ing to the inspiration of the moment. He reserved to 
himself the power of binding together these separate mem- 
bers in a final redaction — of bringing them together by the 
necessary transitions, and of throwing out all that might 
injure the integrity of the poem. Thus it happens that in 
the manuscripts relating to Faust, there are found a great 
number of poems written at different periods, which could 
not find place in the drama, but which we hope may be 
published in the miscellaneous works." — ClmracterisHcs 
of Goethe, vol. iii pp. 87, 88.» 

* This account is confirtned by Falk'» etory of the Walburgis 
Sack ; and also by the following anecdote eommunicated to me in 
a private letter by M. de Schlegel : — " Ce pöeme, des son origine 
dtait condamn^ ä ne rester qu'un fragment. Mais quoi<)u*on juge 
de Teusemble, les d^tails sont adrairables. Ceci me rappelle une 
anecdot« que je tiens du c^^bre m^dtfcin Zimmerman, fort \\6 
avec Goethe dans sa jeuncssc : Fauste avait tfttf annonc^ de bonne 
heure, et l'oo s'attendait alors a Ic voir paraitre procb«Bcment, 



APPENDIX. 227 

The Chancellor von Müller^ in his exceUent little work 
entitled Goethe in seiner PrakHechen Wirksamheit, thus 
describes the conclusion of Faust, and (what is not less 
interesting) the events immediately preceding it : — 

<^ When Goethe had to bear the death of his only son, 
he wrote to Zelter thus : — ' Here, then, can the mighty 
conception of duty alone hold ns erect. I have no other 
care than to keep myself in equipoise. Thebody mt<^, the 
spirit wiU; — ^and he who sees a necessary path prescribed 
to his will, has no need to ponder mach.' 

'^ Thus did he shut up the deepest grief within his 
breast, and hastily seized upon a long-postponed labour, 
* in oider entirely to lose himself in it.' In a fortnight he 
had nearly completed the fonrth volume of his life, when 
nature avenged nerself for the violence he had done her ; 
the bursting of a blood-vessel brought him to the brink of 
the grave. 

"He recovered surprisingly, and immediately made use 
of his restored health to put his honse most carefally in 
Order ; made all his testamentary dispositions as to his 
works and manuscripts with perfect cheerfnlness, and ear- 
nestly employed himself in fally making up his account 
with the World. 

'^ Bat in looking over his manuscripts it vexed him to 
leave his Faust unfinished ; the greater part of the fourth 
act of the Second Part was wanting ; he laid it down as a 
law to himself to complete it worthily, and, on the day 
before his last birthday, he was enabled to announce that 
the highest task of his life was completed. He sealed it 
under a tenfold seal, escaped from the congratulations of 
friends, and hastened to revisit, after many many years, the 
scene of his earliest cares and endeavours, as well as of the 
happiest and riebest hours of his life." 

Referring to my Article on the Second Part of Faust in 
the Foreign Quarterly Review (in which most of the fore- 
going abstract, interspersed with translated specimens, 

^mmerman, ee troayant ^ Weimar, demanda ^ eon ami des nou- 
velles de cette compositioü. Goethe apporta im sac rempli de 
petita cbifFons de papier. II le vuida sur la table et dit : * Voilä 
mon Fauste.* ** 

q2 



228 APPENDIX. 

appeared), some of my Genxum friends blamed me for not 
putting in the plea of age for ihe anthor. I have done 
this most effectoially now ; and the pleas of sickness and 
sorrow might also be supported if necessaiy. Indeed, 
after readinf the above extracts, the wonder is, not that 
Symptoms of decajdng power are here and there discern- 
iole, bat that the poem, ander such circamstances, shoald 
have been completed at all; and we may well say of 
Faast and its author (as Longinas said of Homer and the 
Odyssey), thoagh the work of an cid man^ it is yet the 
work of an old Qoethe. 

Another set have censared me for my sceptical and 
saperficial notions of the plot, which is said to hide a host 
of meanings. My only answer is that I cannot see them 
and have never yet met with any one who coold, though I 
stadied the poem ander circamstances pecaliarly fayonr- 
able to the discoyery. None of the German critics, to the 
best of my information, haye yet diyed deeper than myself ; 
the boldest merely yenture to saggest that Fanst's salya- 
tion or jastification, withoat any apparent merit of his 
own, is in strict accordance with the parest doctrines of 
oar faith ; and that, thoagh he saffered himself to be 
seduced into wickedness, his mind and heart remained 
antainted by the Mephistophelian philosophy to the last. 
This yiew of the poetical jastice of the catastrophe was 
eloqaently expounded b^ Dr. Franz Hom in a long con- 
yersation which I had with him on this sabject in Aagust 
last (1833). 

Tasso teils as in a letter to a friend on the Jerasalem 
Deliyered, that when he was beyond the middle of the 
poem and began to consider the strictness of the times, he 
began also to think of an allegory, as a thing which oaght 
to smooth every difficulty. The allegory which he thoaght 
of, and sabsequently gaye oat as the key to the more 
recondite beaaties of the poem, was this : — " The Christian 
army, composed of yarious princes and soldiers, signified 
the natural man, consisting of soal and body, and of a 
soal not simple, bat diyided into many and yarious facul- 
ties. Jerusalem, a strong city, placed on a rough and 
mountainous tract, and to which the chief aim of the army 



APPENDIX. 229 

is directed, figares civil or public felicity, while Godfrey 
himself represents the ruling intellect ; Rinaldo, Tancrea, 
and others being the inferior powers of the mind, and the 
soldiers, or bulk of the army, the body. The conquest, 
again, with which the poem concludes, is an emblem of 
political felicity ; bnt as this ought not to be the final 
object of a Christian man, the poem ends with the adora- 
tion of Godfrey, it being thereby signified tkat the intellect, 
fatigned in public exertions, should finally seek repose in 
prayer, and in contemplating the blessings of a happy and 
etemal life." 

What Tasso did for the Jerusalem Delivered in this 
matter, I can conceive it quite possible the conmientators 
may do for the Second Part of Faust ; but that they will 
thereby greatly elevate* its poetical character, connect it 
with the First Part, or prove it an apt Solution of the 
problem, I doubt. As the Prologue in Heaven was not 
added until 1807 or 1808, my own opinion is that Goethe's 
plot had no more original existence than Tasso's allegoiy. 

Mr. Coleridge is reported to have expressed himself as 
foUows : — 

'' The intended theme of the Faust is the consequences 
of a misology, or hatred and depreciation of knowledge, 
caused by an originally intense thirst for knowledge baffled. 
But a love of knowledge for itself, and for pure ends, would 
never produce such a misology, but only a love of it for 
base and unworthy purposes. There is neither causation 
nor Progression in the Faust ; he is a ready-made conjuror 
from the very beginning ; the incredulus odi is feit from 
the first line. The sensuality and the thirst after know- 
ledge are unconnected with each other. Mephistopheles 
and Margaret are excellent ; but Faust himself is duU 
and meaningless. The scene in Auerbach's cellars is one 
of the best, perhaps the very best ; that on the Brocken 
is also fine ; and all the songs are beautiful. But there 
is no whole in the poem ; the scenes are mere magic- 
lantem pictnres, and a large part of the work is to me 
very flat. The German is very pure and fine." — Table 
TaSb, vol. ii. p. 114. 



APPENDIX, No. II. 



BBINO AN HISTORICAL NOTICE OF THE STÖRT OF FAUST, AND THE 
YARIOUS PRODUCTIONS IN ART AND LITERATURE THAT HATE 
GROWN OÜT OF IT. 

DüRiNG a late visit to Germany (1833^, it was one of my 
amusements to inquire at all the libraries to which I could 
^ocure access, for books relating to Faust or Faustas ; 
and though the number was far from trifling, it cost me 
no great labour to acquire a general notion of the content» 
of most of them, and write down what bore upon my own 
peculiar study or seemed any way striking or new. I had 
made considerable progress in the arrangement of the 
materials tbus collected, when Brockhaus' Historisches 
Taschenbuch (Historical Pocket-book) for 1834 arrived, 
containing an article entitled Die Sage vom Doctor Faust, 
by Dr. Stieglitz (already known for an instructive article 
on the same subject*), in which, after a brief history of 
the hero himself, all the compositions of every sort, that 
(to the writer's knowledge) have gi*own out of the fable, 
are enumerated. The narrow limits of a Taschenbuch 
restricted Dr. Stieglitz to giving little more than a bare 
list of title-pages ; but this list has proved so extremely 
useful in indicating where almost every sort of informa- 
tion was to be had, that I think it right to avow before- 
hand the extent of Obligation he has laid nie under. 
Before beginning the life of Faust, some of his biogra« 

* The article in F. Schlagers Deutsche» Mussum referred to 
in xny Fii'st Edition. 



232 APPENDIX. 

phers have thonght it necessaiy to determine whether he 
ever lived at all ; and, were we to adopt the mode of rea- 
soning so admirably illustrated in Dr. Whately's Historie 
Doubts conceming the existence of Napoleon, we must ' 
unavoidably believe that there never was such a person, 
but that the fable was invented by the monks to revenge 
themselves on the memory of Faust, the printer, who had 
destroyed their trade in manuscripts.* But if we are con- 
tent with that sort of evidence by which the vast majority 
of historical incidents are cstablished, we shall arriye ata 
much more satisfactory conclusion concerning him. Me- 
lancthon knew him personally ; f and he is spoken of by 
other immediate cotemporaries. 

Johann (or John) Faust (or Faustus), then, according, 
to the better opinion, was bom at Rundlingen, within the 
territory of Wurtemberg, J of parents low of stock (as 
Mario w exprcsses it), some time towards the end of the 
fifteenth Century. He must not be confounded with Faust 
(or Fust) the printer, who flourished more than half a 
Century before. § He was bred a physician, and graduated 
in medicine, but soon betook himself to magic. In this 
pursuit he is said to have spent a rieh inheritanee left him 
by an unele. The study of magic naturally led to an 
acquaintanee with the devil, with whom he entered into a 
compact substantially the same as that eited (ante, p. 182) 
in a note. In Company with an imp or spirit, given him 
by his friend Satan and attending on him in the gaise of a 
blaek dog, he ranged freely through the world, playing off 
many singular pranks upon the way. No doubt, however, 
he enjoys the credit of a great deal of misehief he had no 
band in, just as wits like Jekyl or Sheridan have all the 

* It hsts been contended that the very name is an invented one ; 
the notion heing that it was given to a magiciau— o5 fcmstum in 
relma peractu dißcillimis successvm, 

f So says the Convensations-Lexicon ; but Dr. Stieglitz is 
silent on the point. 

!|: Anhalt and Brandenburg also claim the honour of his birth. 

§ A distinct title is assigned to each in the Conversations- 
Lexicon. The printer is supposed to have died of the plague in 
1466. 



APPENDIX. ^ 233 

puns of their contemporaries to answer for. " Shortly 
(says Görres) Faustus appeared conspicuous in history as 
the common representative of mischievous magicians, 
guilty of all kind of diablerie. Their sins, thronghout 
centuries, were all laid at his door ; and when the general 
faith, falling as it were to pieces, divided into ferocions 
schisms, is found a common point of approach in a man 
who, during his frequent tours, and his intercourse with 
all ranks of people, had boasted of his infernal connections 
and influence in the nether lands."* 

Faust appears to have travelled mostly in a magic 
mantle, presenting himself in the eitles he lighted on as a 
travelling scholar {Fahrender Scholast), a verv common 
sort of vagabond in the middle ages. We trace hhn through 
Ingolstadt (where he is said to have studied), Prague, 
Erfurt, Leipsic, and Wittenberg, but cannot say with cer- 
tainty what other places he visited in his tours. ^' About 
1560 (says Mr. Carlyle in a short note about him in the 
Foreign Quarterly Review, No XVL) his term of thau- 
maturgy being over, he disappeared ; whether under a 
feigned name, by the rope of some hangman, or frightfuUy 
tom in pieces by the devil near the village of Rimlich, 
between twelve and one in the moming, let every reader 
judge for himself." There is no authority for the above 
very injurious Insinuation, nor has Mr. Carlyle foUowed 
the best as to the date of Faust's disappearance. Nothing 
authentic was heard of him for nearly thirty years before. 
One anecdote, corroborative of the commonly received 
notion ofhis death, is worth recording. Neumanf relates, 
that when, during the Thirty Years' War, the enemy 
broke into Saxony , a detachment was quartered at a village 
called Breda, on the Elbe. The magistrate of the village 
sought out the Commander, and informed him that his 
house had obtained a high celebrity through Faust's hor- 
rible death in it, as the blood-besprinkled walls still tes- 
tified. At this Information the conquerors stood astounded, 
and soon taking the alarm, endeavoured to save themselves 
by flight. 

* Voöcahücher, as translated by Mr. Roscoe. 
f Disquiaitio de Fcmato, &c. 



284 I» APPENDIX. 

Fanst had a. disciple uamed Wagner, the son of a 
clergyman at Wasserburg. The name of Wagner also 
figures, as editor, on the titie-pages of some works on magic 
attribnted to Faust. 

The most remarkablethingabout this fable is its almost 
universal diifasion. It spread rapidly through France, 
Italy, Spain, England, Holland, and Poland, giving birth 
to numerous fictions, some of a high order of poetical merit. 
Amongst others, Calderon's ElMagico Prodi^osohaAheen 
attributed to it. St. Cyprian of Autioch was the model 
which Calderon really worked upon, but Goethe has been 
so unequivocally accused of plagiarism from this play, that 
I shall make a short digression for the purpose of convey- 
ing a genital notion of the plot. Three scenes have been 
translated by Shelley. 

The first scene is the neighbonrhood of Antioch, where 
a solemnity in honour of Jupiter is in the act of celebration. 
Cyprian, who has begun to see the errors of polytheism, 
appears attended by two of bis disciples carrying books. 
As he is meditating over a passage in Pliny relatinff to the 
nature and existence of God, the £vil One presents himself 
in the guise of a travelling gentleman who has lost bis way . 
They have a dispute of some length, the deyil defending 
the old superstition, and Cyprian attacking it. The devil 
has the worst of the argument, and makes a pretence for 
withdrawing himself, resolving to seduce Cyprian by means 
of a woman. For this purpose he selects Justine, one of 
the new converts to Christianity, who is living in Antioch 
under the care of her adopted father, Lysando.* She is 
beloved by Flora and Lselio, who are about to fight a duel, 
when they are intemipted by the accidental presence of 
Cyprian, who nndertakes to see the lady, and asceitain 
which of them is favoured by her preference. He visits 
and falls in love with her himself, but is not more suc- 
cessful than the two young rivals haye been ; and bis 
desires are at length worked up to such a pitch, that he 
resolves on making every saciifice to attain the object of 
them. Whilst in this mood he witnesses a shipwrecK, and 

* This may remind the reader of Recha in Nathan the Wise. 



APPENDIX. 235 

offefs the solitary surrivor an asylum in his honse. It is 
the demon, who professes himself able to procure C^rian 
the possession of Justine, and, in testimony of his power, 
Bplits a rock {penctsco) asunder, and discovers her asleep 
in the centre of it. Cyprian is thereby induced to sign with 
his blood a contract for the eventual surrender of his soul, 
npon condition that Justine be secured to him ; which the 
devil contracts for in his turn. For the furtherance of his 
iriews, he studies magic, under the deviPs instruction, nntil 
he has made himself a master of the art. Whilst Cyprian 
is thus accomplishinghimself, Justine is beginning to relent, 
and, tempted by the devil, suiFers amatory emotions to 
influence her to such a degree, that she is on the point of 
failing, but resists, and saves herseif by faith. I am tempted 
to give an extract from Shelley's beautiful Version of this 
scene ; where the evil spirit is tempting the heroine :— 

** *Tis that enamourM nightingale 
Who gives me the reply ; 
He ever teils the same soft tale 
Of passion and of constancy 
To his mate, Trho, rapt and fond, 
Listening sits, a bongh beyoud. 
Be silent, nighdngale ! — no more 
Make me think, in hearing theo 
Thus tenderly thy love deplore,— 
If a bird can feel his so, 
What a man would feel for me ? 
And, voluptuous vine ! O thou 
Who seekest most when least pursuing, 
To the trunk thou interlacest, 
Art the verdure which embracest, 
And the iveight which is its min ; 
No more, with green embraces, vine, 
Make me think on what thou lovest,^ 
For whilst thou thus thy boughs entwine, 
I fear lest thou shouldst teach me, sophis^ 
How arms might be entangled too. 
Light-enchanted sun-flower ! thou 
Who gazest, ever true and tender, 
On the sun^s revolving splendour ! 



236 APPENDIX. 

Follow not hU faiihless glance 
With thy faded countenance, 
Nor teach my beating heart to fear, 
If leaves can moura without a tear, 
How eyes must weep ! O, nightingale, 
Cease from thy enaraour'd tale, — 
Leafy vine, un^ivreathe thy bower, 
Restless sun-flower, cease to move, — 
Or teil me all, what poisonous power 
Ye use againgt me — 
AU, Loye! love ! lovel** 

The devil, tlms foiled in his expectations, can only bring 
Cyprian a phantom resembling her, and maintains that he 
has thereby fulfiUed his contract, but in the end is obliced 
to own that he has not ; that God— one God — the God of 
Christianity, prevents him from hanning the maiden, her- 
seif a Christian. Cyprian draws his sword upon the devil, 
who is compelled to depart, leaving his intended victim to 
make his peace with God. This he does by becoming on 
the instant a complete convert to Christianity, the imme- 
diäte result of which is that he is apprehended and con- 
demned to die as a heretic in Antioch. Jnstine, in the 
mean time, has been exposed to a series of trials through 
the riyalry of Flora and Lse^Io, whose jealousy has been 
exasperated by various deceits put upon them by the devil ; 
and at the pöriod of Cyprian's condemnation, she also is 
condemned as a heretic. They suffer together after an 
affecting interview, in which their constancy is put to a 
severe trial, and the piece closes (if we except a few ex- 
pressions of astonishment by the bystanders) with the ap- 
pearance of the demon, mounted on a serpent, on high ; 
whodeclareshimself commandedby Godto declare Justine's 
eutire innocence. 

There is a comic by-plot between the inferior character 
of the piece, with several bustling scenes between Floro, 
Laelio, Lysando, and Justine. The grand aim of the piece 
is obviously to exalt Christianity. 

We may also refer to the histories of Virgilins^a magidaa 
who long preceded Faust,* in proof that we are not loosely 

• See Ro8coe*B German Novelists, voL i., p. 257. PaxacelsuB, 



APPENDIX. 237 

to attribute all traditions and fictions which have a necro- 
mantic doctor for their hero, to the latter. The worka 
directly fonnded on or relating to Faust 's history are nnme- 
rous enough to satisfy the most ardent supporter of his 
digiiity. Dr. Stieglitz makes the books alone amount to 
106, and his catalogue is incomplete. For instance, he 
does not mention a modern French prose epopee of some 
note (I forget the precise title) in three volumes, published 
within the last six years ; nor the old English work of 
1594 mentioned by Mr. Roscoe * as lent to him by Mr. 
Douce ; nor Mr. Roscoe's own volume ; nor four out of six 
of the English dramatic adaptations. The Second Part of 
Faust had not appeared when Dr. Stieglitz wrote, nor could 
my own book have reached Germany early enough to be 
counted in his list. I also miss Dr. Franz Hom, who has 
given a detailed and very interesting account of the old 
puppet-show play.f 

I proceed to mention the most remarkable of these pro- 
ductions. 

First amongst those of the dramatic order, stand the old 
puppet-plays. Dr. Stieglitz mentions several of these as 
populär in the last Century, but gives only a general account 
of them. I therefore follow Dr. Franz Hörn, who is speak- 

- Cornelius Agrippa, Cardanus, Thomas Campanella, Alhertus Mag- 
nus, are enumei-ated by Dr. Stieglitz as early renowned for mys- 
terious pursuits vhich went by the name of magical ; and we might 
match our own Roger Bacon against any of them. See " The 
Famous Historie of Fryer Bacon, with the Lives and Deaths of 
the Two Conjurors Bungye and Vandermast," reprinted in 1815. 

* ** The Second Report of Doctor John Faustus, containing his 
Appearances, and the Deedes of Wagner, written by an English 
Gentleman, Student in Wittenberg, an University of Germany, 
in Sazony. Published for the delight of all those which desire 
Kovelties, by a Friend of the same Gentleman. London, printed 
by Abell JefFes, for Cuthbert Burby, and are to be sold at the 
middle shop, at Saint Milfred Church by the Stockes, 1594.^* 

t In his Frewndliche Schriften, (Th. 2), and also in his Poesie 
vnd Beredtamkeü «kc, vol. 2, p. 263. At p. 258, he gives a 
Short account of the old puppet-play of Don Juan, whoir he calls, 
in another work, the antithesis of Faust« 



238 APPENDIX. 

ing of a representation which he witnessed himself abont 
theyear 1807. 

Tiie iirst scene represents Faust sitting in bis study with 
a large book before him, in mnch the same attitude in 
whicb he is represented by Mario w and Goethe. After 
some reflections on the vanity of knowledge, he steps into 
the magic circle and conjures up the devils, for the purpose, 
it would seem, of selecting one of them for bis slave. He 
questions each in tum as to bis comparative swiftness, and 
after rejecting one by one those who merely profess to be 
as swift^s air, arrows, plagues, &c.,he chooses the one who 
says he is as swift as the thoughts of men. " In later yer- 
sions," says Dr. Hom, " Faust is made to choose the devil 
who is as swift as the transition fromgood to evil." Faust 
is interrupted by the entrance of Wagner, who is repre- 
sented as a lively sort of person apeing bis master. Then 
enters Kasperl, the Mr. Menynian of the piece, who soon 
throws Wagner into the shaae. Indeed, on the hiring of 
Kasperl as Faust^s servant by Wagner, which takes place 
after a humorous dialogue between the two, Wagner drops 
out of view and Kasperl figures as the only attendant upon 
Faust So soon as Kasperl is left alone, he is driven by 
curiosity to peep into Faust's Book of Magic, and succeeds 
with much difficulty in spelling out two words : Berlik^ a 
spell to call up devils, and Serltik, spell to send them 
away. He forthwith puts bis new knowledge to the test, 
and amuses himself by repeating the words so rapidly one 
after the other, that it is only by the utmost exertion of 
their activity that the devils can keep pace with him and 
obey the word of command. In the end, however, he gets 
a knock-down blow or rebuiF which closes the scene. 

Faust is next represented as anxious to enter into a com- 
pact with the devil, with the view of adding to bis own i|i- 
fluence upon earth. The compact is ready, and Faust is 
bringing ink to subscribe it, when the devil with a laugh 
explains to him that bis own blood will be required. He 
complies, and opens a vein in his band ; the blood forms 
itself into the letters H. F. {Homo, fuge) ^ and the waming 
is foUowed up by the appearance of a guardian-angel, but 
in Tain. Mephistopheles, who had retreated before the 



APPENDIX. 339 

angel, re-appears : and a raven flies off with the paper, now 
Bubscribed by Faust, in its beak. 

The only use Faust makesof bis newly-acquired power, 
is to wander from place to place playing tricks. The palace 
of an Italian duke is the scene of all those which are re- 
presented in this show ; where he calls up Samson, Goliah, 
Solomon, Judith, &c. &c. for theamnsement of the duchess. 
He is thns growing into high favour with her, when the 
duke, whether from jealousy or from some other cause 
which does not appear, makes an attempt to poison him, 
and Faust prudently moves off. I must not f«rget to 
mention that Kasperl is as facetious as usual during their 
sojoum in Italy, but on bis master's sudden flight, he ap- 
pears reduced to the most melancholy condition by solitude. 
For company's sake, he invokes a devil, and embraces it 
with the utmost warmth of affection when it appears. This 
devil is touched by bis Situation, promises to convey him 
back to Germany, and advises him to apply for the place 
of watchman when there. Kaspar * thanks him heartily 
for bis flattering advice, but modestl^ declares that he 
cannot sing ; to which the devil replies that the watch- 
men in Germany are not required to sing better than 
they can. 

Faust is now again in bis Fatherland, but bis term is 
nearly expired, and he whiningly asks the devil, who by 
the contract is always to speak the truth, whether it be 
yet possible for him to come to God. The devil stammers 
out a soft, '^ I know not," and flies trembling away. Faust 
kneels down to pray, but his devotions are interrupted by 
the Vision of Helen, sent by the Evil One to prevent him 
from relapsing into faith. He 3rields to the temptation, and 
all hope is at an end. 

It is now the night of the catastrophe. As the clock 
strikes nine, a voice from above caUs to Faust : Bereite 
dich, — Prepare thyself ; and shorliy afterwards the same 
voice exclaims : Du btst angeklagt,— T/iou art arraigned, 
It strikes ten, and as Kasperl (in his capaoity of watch- 

* Dr. Hom tpells the name Bometimes Kasperl, and sometimcs 
Kasptvr, 



240 APPENDIX. 

man) calls the hour, the voice exclaims : Du bist gerichtet, 
— Thou art judped. " Thus then," says Franz Hom, 
" no retreat is any longer possible, for the mdgment (Ur- 
theil not Verurtheil) is passed, and though not yet pro- 
nounced, still quite clear to the forebodying spirit." On 
the stroke of midnight, the voice calls for the leist time : 
Du bist avf eioig verdammt y — Thou art damned to M 
etemity ; and after a short monologue, Faust falls iuto the 
power of the Evil One. The piece concludes with another 
exhibition of bufFoonery by Kaspar, who comes upon the 
stage jn«t as his master is bome off. 

None of the other puppet-show plays of which we have 
any accurate account, differ materially from the above. 

The pantomimes founded on Faust are numerous, but I 
have found it impossible to acquire more than a vague 
and hearsay knowledge of them, nor perhaps is a more 
particular knowledge desirable. Only two produced at 
Leipzig in 1770 and 1809, and one produced at Vienna in 
1779, are recorded by Dr. Stieglitz ; but Mr Winston, the 
Secretary to the Garrick Club, a gentleman remarkably 
well versed in dramatic history, has obligingly supplied 
me with a copy of the following three entries in his own 
private catalogue of Performances : — 

" Harlequin Dr. Fauslus, with the Masques of the Dei- 
ties, produced at Drury Lane in 1724. Published in Oct. 
1724. By Thurmond, a dancing-master. Pantomime. 

" Harlequin Dr. Faustus, 1766 ; a revival of the last, 
with alterations by Woodward. 

" Harlequin Dr. Faustus, or the Devil will have hia 
Own. Pantomime. 1793." 

Marlow's play» seems to be the earliest regulär drama 

* It was acted in 1594 by the Lord Admiral's servants. From 
Mr. Collier's Annals of the Stage (vol. iii. p. 12G), it appean ihat 
a considerable portion of Marlow^s play, as it has come down to us, 
is the work of other hands. The earliest known edition is that of 
1604; but it must have been written some time before, as it is 
BUpposed to have siiggested " The Honourable History of Friar 
Bacon and Friar Bungay," published in 1594, by Greene. See 
Collier, vol. iii. p. 159, and Dyce's Edition of Greene's Works. 
Mario w*s Faustus has been translated into German by W. Müller 
with a Preface by von Arnim, one of the editors of the Wunderhom 



APPENDIX. 241 

fonndedon the£able ; one byMonntfortjalso anEnglisIiinan, 
the uext.* A play extemporised by a Company of actors 
at Mainz in 1746, is the first of wMch anyÜiing certain is 
Tecorded in Germany.f Since Marlow's time, between 
thirty and forty dramatic fictions have been fpunded on it. 
The great majority of these haye been elicited by Goethe's. 
Maler Müller, and two or three others, nndonbtedly pre- 
eeded him, so far at least as pnblication is concemed;!]: 
bat the designs differ widely, and no one, after reading 
MüUer's, wiU snspect Goethe of borrowing mnch from it. 
Tfaere is considerable power in the soliloqnles, and the 
scene in which the emblems of Wealth, Power, Pleasnre, 
and Gloiy, are in tnms exhibited to Faust, is veiy finely 
oonceived; bat the greater part is occupied by tedioas 
colloqaies between sabordinate characters, and the plot 
bas not time to deyelope itself before the Fragment con- 
clades. There are two or three points of imperfect ana- 
logy, which I will name. 

The first scene, instead of representing the Lord wager- 
ing with Mephistopheles that he cannot sedace Faast, re- 
presents Lucifer wagering with Mephistopheles that no 
troly great (that is firm, and stedfast) man is to be foand 
opon earth. Mephistopheles andertakes to proye that 
Faast is sach a man ; so that in Goethe's drama we haye 
Mephistopheles depreciating, and in MüUer's exalting, the 
character of Faast. Again — Wagner makes bis first en- 
tnince daring one of Faast's soliloqaies, which he breaks 
off ; and Margaret is represented as conyersing with her 
loyer from her window in this manner : — 

Kölhd. ** Margaret, my charmer, my angel ! Oh, that 
1 were aboye there, in thy ärms ! 

Margaret, '^ Hush ! I hear my sister ; my ancle coaghs. 

* Life ftnd Death of Dr. Faustus, by W. Monntfort, brongiit 
out at Queeii*8 Tbeatre, Doiset Gardens; published in 4to. 1697. 

•f* Neuman, JDißquia. de Fauito, aaj§ genendly that it 'was 
dramatiBed in tbe seventeenth centniy. 

X Jobann Faust, an allegorical Drama in five Acta, was pub- 
liahed at Munich in 1775. As to the chronological history of 
Goethe*s Faust, see aofUCj p. 153, note. 

K 



242 APPENDIX. 

Come roand to the other window, and I have something 
more to say to yon. 

KöWd, " With all mv heart, love." 

There is no waiit of charity in supposing that tbis love^ 
advcntnre ended much in the same manner as that re- 
corded by Goethe ; and the expressions strongly resemble 
those, anUy p. 108. Some similarity in the Boliloqnies 
was to be anticipated, as they necessarily tum npon the 
same topics of discontent, but there is one reply made by 
Müller's -Faust to the devil, which bears so close a Hke- 
ness to one placed by Ooethe in bis mouth {anU^ p. 49), 
that I shall quote it also as it Stands : — 

Faust, " Know'st thou then all my wishes ? 

Siath DeviL " —And will leave them in the consam* 
mation far behind. 

Faust, '' How ! if I required it, and thou wert to bear 
me to the uppermost stars, — ^to the uppermost part of the 
nppermost, shall I not bring a human heart along with me, 
wnich in its wanton wishes will nine times surpass thy 
flight ? Leam from me that man requires more than Qod 
and Devil can give." 

Previously to thepublication of Fau8t''sLd>endramatirirt 
(the piece I quote from), Müller had published (in 1776) 
a fragment entitled, '^ A Situation out of Faust's Life." It 
presents nothing remarkable. 

Among the writers who have followed Goethe in writing 
poems, dramas, or dramatic scenes about Faust, are Lenz, 
Schreiber, Klinger, Von Soden, Schink, Von Ghamisso, 
Voigt, Schöne, Berkowitz, Klingemann, Grabbe, Holtei, 
Harro Harring, Rosenkranz, Hof mann, Bechstein, and 
Pfizer ; besides those who have published anonymously« 

Lessing, it is well known, had drawn up two plans for 
a drama ^on Faust ; he has only left us one fragment of 
a scene. This has been translated by Lord F. L. Egerton 
(now Lord Ellesmere), and appended to bis translation o>f 
Goethe'» Faust. Madame de Stael suggests that Goethe's 
plan was borrowed from it, and she is probably right as 
regards the Prologue in Heaven. The only difference is 
that Lessing's is a Prologue in Hell, where one of the at- 
tendant spirits proposes to Satan the sedaction of Faust, 



APPENDIX. 24S 

who assents and declares the plan a feasible one, on being 
informed that Faust has an overweening desire of know- 
ledge. The whole of this fragment would not more than 
fiU two of my pages. See, as to Lessing's plans, bis Briefe 
die neueste lAteratur hetr^fend, Part i., p. 103 ; the Ana- 
leetenfiir die Literatur, rart i., p. 110 ; and the Second 
Part of bis Theatrical Legacy {Nachkbss), 

Dr. Stieglitz has no less than fonr Operas npon bis list. 
Of tbose by Bänerle and von Voss, I Know notbin^. That 
by Bemard and Spöbr has been received witb considerable 
applause in Germany, but the plot is mostly made up out 
of the old traditionary stories, and the composer seems very 
rarely to have had Goetbe's drama in bis mind. An Opera 
Seria, entitled Faiesto, was also produced at Paris in March, 
1831, the music by Mademoiselle Louise Bertin ; this I 
neyer saw, nor do I know wbether it succeeded or not. 
The Ballet of Faust, imported last year (1832), must be- 
fresh in eveiybody^s recollection ; the descent scene had a 
fine effect in Pans, but it was completely spoiled at our 
Italian Opera House by the shallowness of the stage. 
The devils were brought so near to the spectators, that 
the veiy materials of uieir infernal panoply were clearly 
distinguishable. 

A " Romantic Musical Drama," called first " Faustus," 
and afterwards " the Deyil and Dr. Faustus," the Joint 
production of Messrs. Soane and Ter^, was brought out 
at Drury Lane in M^y, 1825 ; and by the aid of Stansfield's 
scenery and Terry's excellent acting in Mephistopheles, it 
had a considerable run. It w'as afterwards published by 
Simpkin and Marshall. 

The most successful attempt to set Faust to music is that 
of the late Prince Radzivil. His composition is spoken 
of in the highest terms of approbation, and I understand 
that the Prmcess (his widow) has printed, or is about to 
print, the whole for circulation among her friends. Goetbe's 
approval of the attempt has been unequivocally expressed» 
'-^fFbrks, vol. XXX., p. 89.) 

It appears from the correspondence between Goethe and 
Zelter, (vol. ii. pp. 424, 429), that Zelter once undertook 
to write music lor Faust by the desire of the author; nor 



244 APPENDIX. 

mnst I folget to mention that Goethe's Faust has been 
adapted to the stage by Tieck. It was first acted in its 
altcied State at Leipzig and Dresden on the 28th of August, 
1829, the anniversary of Goethe's eightieth birthday, and 
is now a stock-^iece at the principal theatres. A good 
deal of discussion took place at the time as to the fitness 
of the poem for theatrical representation at all ;* thou£^ 
Schl^el, who considers the question in bis lectures on we 
drama (Lect 15) and decides in the negatire, appeais to 
have set the question at rest. 

To make tlus appendix complete, I shall bere recapitn- 
late the whole of the conunentanes with which f am 
acquainted. 

lieber Goethe^ Faust : Vorlesungen von Dr. Schubarth, 
Berlin, 1830. 

Ueber Goethe's Faust und dessen Fortsetzung, nebst 
einem Anhange yon dem ewigen Juden, Leipzig, 1824. 

Aesthetisdie Vorlesungen ueber Goethe's Faust, &c,f 
▼on Dr. Hinrichs, Halle, 1825. 

UeberCalderon's Tragoedie vom Wunderthatigen Magus; 
Ein Beitrag zum Verstandniss der Faustischen Fabel, von 
£[arl Rosenkrantz, Halle und Leipzig, 1829. 

Ueber Erklärung und Fortsetzung des Faust im Allge- 
meinen &c., von K. Rosenkrantz, Ldpzig, 1831. 

Doctor Faustus, Tragödie von Marlowe &c. ; aus dem 
Englischen übersetzt von W. Müller. Mit einer Vorrede 
von Ludwig von Arnim, Berlin, 1808. 

Herold's Stimme zu Goethe's Faust,' von C. F. G— 1, 
Leipzig, 1831. 

Zur Beurtheilung Goethe's, mit Beziehung auf verwandte 
Literatur und Kunst, von Dr. Schubarth, 1820 ; a work 
in two volumes, of which a laige part is oocupied with 
Faust. 

Goethe aus persönlichem Umgange dargestellt, von 
Falk ; the last 110 pages of which coosist of a Commentary 
on Faust. 

Vorlesungen über Goethe's Faust, von Dr. Bauch, 1830. 

M. von Amim's Preface to the Geiman translation of 
Marlow^ Faust. 

* See BediBteia^B Pamphlet, published at Stuttgardt, 1831. 



APPENDIX. 245 

In Schlegers Lectures on Dramatic Literature, Lect. 15, 
ihere are a few remarks. Faust also forma the subject of 
some letters in the Briefwechsel between Schiller and 
Goethe, vol. iii. pp. 129—186. 

It only remains to mention the artists who have taken 
the old tradition or the modern drama of Faust for their 
Bubject-matter. Of the former class, I know but two worth 
mentioning : one is Rembrandt, who has left a head of 
Faust, and a sketch of him in his study, sitting just as 
Goethe has described him, in the midst of books.,and in- 
stmments, with a magic circle ready drawn and a skeleton 
half hidden by a cur&in in the room. The other is van 
Sichem, a Dutch artist, bom about 1580. He has left two 
Sketches : a scene between Faust and Mephistopheles, and 
a scene between Wagner and an attendant spirit, Auerhain 
by name. These are minutely described by Dr. Sti^litz, 
and I have seen a copy of the sketch by Rembrandt. The 
pictures in Auerbach*s cellar are described, ante, p. 186. 

The illustrators of Faust mentioned by Dr. Stieglitz (and 
I know of no others) are : Retzsch, with his English imi- 
tator Moses, and a French Imitator who modestly conceals 
his name ; Nauwerk, Nehrlich, Näke, Ramberg, Lacroix 
(for Stapfer's translation),* and Cornelius, whose designs 
were engraved by Ruschweyh in Rome. Of these, the 
most celebrated are Retzsch and Cornelius. It is quite 
nnnecessary to speak of Retzsch, whose fame is now 
universally diffused. Cornelius was formerly at the head 
of the school of painting at Düsseldorf, and is now 
(1834) President of the Academy of Design at Munich. He 
enjoys the reputation of being the first historical painter 
in Germany, and his illustrations of Faust have greät 
merit ; but being in the largest folio, and three or four 
pounds in price, they are comparatively little known. 

* See Goethe^B Post Works, vol. yi p. 169. 



THE END. 



I.0HD01(: 
BKADkDKY AUS •VAIIB* rStllVBSI, WBITBfUABI.