PART II ACT I SCENE I: A PLEASANT LANDSCAPE

Faust is lying on flowery turf, tired and restless, trying to sleep. A circle of tiny, graceful spirits hovers round him.

ARIEL (Chanting, accompanied by Aeolian Harps.)

When the springtime blossoms, falling,

Shower down, and cover all things,

When the fields with greener blessing

Dazzle all the world of earthlings,

Little elves, but great in spirit,

Haste to help, where help they can,

And, be he holy, be he wicked,

Pity they the luckless man.

You, hovering in airy circles, round his head

Show yourselves in proud elf-form, instead,

Calm all the fierce resistance of his heart,

Remove the bitter barbs of sharp remorse,

Free him from past terrors, by your art.

Four are the watches night makes in its course,

At once, now, mercifully, let the dark depart.

Let his head sink down on pillow’s coolness,

Next sprinkle him with dew from Lethe’s stream:

Then let his joints be free of cramps and stiffness,

So that he’s strong enough to greet day’s gleam:

Elves exert your sweetest right,

Return him to the holy light!

CHOIR (Singly, and two or more, alternately and together.)

When the balmy breezes smother

All the green-encircled land,

Sweetly fragrant and mist-covered,

Twilight gathers all around.

Sweet peace then whispers softly,

Rocks the heart on childhood’s shores,

And on the eyelids, tired and weary,

Closes daylight’s golden doors.

Here the night’s already passing,

Sacred stars set, star by star,

Great lights, and the lesser glittering,

Sparkling near, and gleaming far:

Sparkling, where the lake reflects her,

Gleaming bright in cloudless height,

Protecting the deep bliss of rest, there,

Moon, in splendour, rules the night.

The hours have vanished now, already

Joy and pain have flown away,

You are whole! Recover, wholly:

Trust the sight of breaking day.

Greening valleys, swelling hills there,

Rise from out their shadowy sleep:

And, drifting in its waves of silver,

On to harvest, flows the wheat.

Wish then, to achieve your wishes,

Gaze up, at the brightness there!

You are lightly tangled: this is

Sleep, a shell, so now emerge!

Don’t delay, walk bravely, tall,

When the crowd waits, hesitating:

The noblest man achieves his all,

By seeing, and then, swiftly, taking.

ARIEL

Listen! Hear the hour nearing!

Ringing out to spirit-hearing,

Now, the new day is appearing.

Doors of stone creak and chatter,

Phoebus’ wheels roll and clatter,

What a din the daylight’s bringing!

Trombone- and trumpeting,

Eyes amazed, and ears ringing,

The Unheard drops out of hearing.

Slip into the flowers presence,

Deeper, deeper, lie there silent,

In the pebbles, where the leaves bend:

If it strikes you, you’ll be deafened.

FAUST

Life’s pulses beating now, with new existence,

Greet the mild ethereal half-light round me:

You, Earth, stood firm tonight, as well: I sense

Your breath is quickening all the things about me,

Already, with that joy you give, beginning

To stir the strengthening resolution in me,

That strives, forever, towards highest Being. –

Now the world unfolds, in half-light’s gleam,

The wood’s alive, its thousand harmonies singing,

While through the valleys, misted ribbons stream:

And heavenly light now penetrates the deep:

Twigs, branches shoot, with fresher life it seems,

From fragrant gulfs, where they were sunk in sleep:

Colour on colour lifts now from the ground,

As leaf and flower with trembling dewdrops weep –

And a paradise reveals itself, all round.

Gaze upwards! – The vast mountain heights

Already with the solemn hour resound:

They are the first to enjoy the eternal light

That later, for us, will work its way below.

Now, to the sloping Alpine meadows bright,

It gives a fresh clarity, a newer glow,

And step by step it reaches us down here: –

It blazes out! – Ah, already blinded, though

I turn away, my eyesight wounded, pierced.

So it is, when to the thing we yearn for

The highest wish so intimately rehearsed,

We find fulfilment opening wide the door:

And then, from eternal space, there breaks

A flood of flame, we stand amazed before:

We wished to set the torch of life ablaze,

A sea of fire consumes us, and such fire!

Love, is it, then? Or hate? This fierce embrace,

The joy and pain of alternating pyres,

So that, gazing back to earth again,

We seek to veil ourselves in youth’s desire.

Let the sun shine on, behind me, then!

The waterfall that splits the cliffs’ broad edge,

I gaze at with a growing pleasure, when

A thousand torrents plunge from ledge to ledge,

And still a thousand more pour down that stair,

Spraying the bright foam skywards from their beds.

And in lone splendour, through the tumult there,

The rainbow’s arch of colour, bending brightly,

Is clearly marked, and then dissolved in air,

Around it the cool showers, falling lightly.

There the efforts of mankind they mirror.

Reflect on it, you’ll understand precisely:

We live our life amongst refracted colour.

PART II ACT I SCENE II: THE EMPEROR’S CASTLE: THE THRONE ROOM

A council of state waits for the Emperor. Trumpets. Enter court attendants of all kinds, splendidly dressed. The Emperor approaches the throne: the Astrologer is to his right.

THE EMPEROR

I greet you all, the loved, and true,

Gathered here from far and wide: -

I see a wise man’s at my side,

But where on earth’s the fool?

ATTENDANT

Right behind your mantle there,

He suddenly tumbled on the stair,

They dragged away the pile of fat.

Dead: or drunk? No man knows that.

A SECOND ATTENDANT

At once, and at a wondrous pace,

Another came to take his place.

Quite extravagantly dressed,

Yet troubling, since he’s so grotesque:

Guards closed the door in his face,

Their halberds held crosswise too –

Yet here he comes, the daring fool!

MEPHISTOPHELES (Kneeling in front of the throne.)

What is cursed, and yet is welcomed?

What’s desired, yet chased away?

What’s always carefully defended?

What’s abused: condemned, I say?

What do you not dare appeal to?

What will all, happily, hear named?

What stands on the step before you?

What’s banished from here, all the same?

THE EMPEROR

For once, at least, spare us your babble!

This is no time or place for riddles,

They’re a matter for these gentlemen. –

Solve it! I’ll gladly hear it all again.

I fear my old fool’s wandered far in space:

Come to my side, here, and take his place.

Mephistopheles places himself on the Emperor’s left.

MURMURS FROM THE CROWD

A newer fool – for newer cares –

Where’s he from? – How’d he get there? –

The old one fell – He’s all done in –

He was fat – Now this one’s thin –

THE EMPEROR

So now, my faithful and beloved,

Welcome here from near and far!

We meet beneath a lucky star,

Since health and luck are written above.

But tell me, why in days like these,

When we’ve conquered care,

And carnival masks are all our wear,

And delightful things are waiting,

We trouble ourselves with debating?

Yet since you say we have to do it,

It’s settled then, and we’ll go to it.

THE CHANCELLOR

The highest virtue, like a sacred halo

Circles the Emperor’s head: and so

He alone may validly exercise it:

Justice! – All men love and prize it,

What all ask, yet wish they could do without,

The people look to him to hand it out.

But ah! What help can human wit deliver,

Or kindly heart, or willing hand, if fever

Rages wildly through the state, and evil

Itself is broodingly preparing evil?

Look about, from this height’s extreme,

Across the realm: it seems like some bad dream,

Where one deformity acts on another,

Where lawlessness by law is furthered,

And an age of crime is discovered.

Here one steals cattle, there, a wife,

Cross, cup and candlestick, from the altar,

And boasts of it for many a year,

His skin’s intact, and so’s his life.

Then they take their claims to court

The judge, in pomp, on his high cushion,

Meanwhile there grows a furious roar,

From swelling tides of revolution.

They insist it’s crime and disgrace,

With their accomplices beside them,

And ‘Guilty!’ is the verdict in a case,

Only where Innocence is its own defence.

So all the world will slash and chop,

Destroying just what suits themselves:

How then can that true sense develop

That shows the morally acceptable?

At last the well-intentioned man

Yields to the bribe, the flatterer:

And the judge who can’t convict, is hand

In hand with the criminal offender.

I’ve painted in black, but I’d rather draw

Its image in the deeper colour that I saw.

( Pause )

The conclusion’s inescapable:

If all men suffer when all cause trouble,

Then His Majesty himself is harmed.

THE COMMANDER IN CHIEF

How riotous things are in this wild age!

They all lash out, and are lashed, these days,

And everyone is deaf to all command.

The citizen behind his wall,

The knight in his cliff-top tower,

Have sworn to defy us all,

And hold fast to their power.

The impatient mercenaries

Impetuously demand their pay,

And if we owed them less, already

They’d be off, and march away.

If one forbids what all desire,

He’s disturbed a hornet’s nest:

The kingdom, they should keep entire,

Is plundered, and distressed.

They’d like to wreak a wild disorder,

Half the world has been dissolved:

There are still kings beyond our border,

But none of them think they’re involved.

THE TREASURER

In allies, then, who’d put their trust!

The subsidies they promised us,

Like water pipes are all blocked up.

And, Sire, in all your wide estate,

Who’s benefited from the take?

Wherever you go, there’s some new pup,

Who declares his independence.

We watch, while they carry on:

We’ve given away our rights, and hence,

No rights are left for us, not one.

Our parties too, however called,

Can’t be depended on today:

They like to praise, and blame: it’s all

Impartial both their love and hate.

They’re resting: they take cover,

The Ghibelline, and Guelph.

Now, who’ll help his neighbour?

Each man just helps himself.

The golden doors are fastened tight,

Men scrape and scratch and glean, all right,

But our coffers still are empty.

THE STEWARD

What evils, too, I must endure!

We try to save each day, I’m sure,

But every day sees greater need:

So, daily, some new torment’s mine.

The cooks, alas, have all they want:

Boar, pheasant, hare and venison,

Ducks and peacocks, chickens, geese,

Payment in kind, and guaranteed,

They keep coming all the time,

But in the end we’re short of wine.

Though cask on cask once filled the cellar,

The best of vintages, and names, there,

These noble lords can drink forever,

And haven’t left a single drop.

The council too must have their fill,

They grasp their tankards tight until,

Under the table, they have to stop.

Now I’ll count the cost, you’ll see,

The moneylenders won’t spare me,

The advances that they give gladly,

Will eat the future years, on top.

Pigs don’t have time to fatten: instead

Men seize the pillows from your bed,

Even the bread from your table’s gone.

THE EMPEROR (After reflection, to Mephistopheles.)

Fool, do you know anything else that’s wrong?

MEPHISTOPHELES

Me? Nothing at all! I see splendour, as I must,

Around me, of you and yours! – Lack trust,

Where Majesty commands so, without question,

Where ready force scatters the enemy faction?

Where strong wills, with wit to understand,

Active and various, are all at hand?

What, for some evil purpose, could combine,

For darkness, then, where such stars shine?

MURMURS

Here’s a rogue – who understands –

He’ll tell lies – as long as he can –

I wonder too – what lies behind –

And what’s in front? – A project of some kind –

MEPHISTOPHELES

In this world,

What isn’t lacking, somewhere, though?

Sometimes it’s this, or that: here what’s missing’s gold.

True you can’t just rake it up from the floor,

But wisdom knows the mines where one gets more.

In mountain veins, foundation walls,

Coined and un-coined golden hoards,

And ask me, now, who’ll bring it to the light:

One gifted with Mind’s power and Nature’s might.

THE CHANCELLOR

Mind and Nature – don’t speak to Christians so.

That’s why men burn atheists, below,

Such speech is dangerous, all right,

Nature is sin, and Mind’s the devil,

It harbours within it, Doubt, that evil,

Their misshapen hermaphrodite.

Not so with us! – In the Emperor’s land

Two kinds of men are still at hand

Worthy alone to defend the throne:

The Saints are they, and the Knights:

They enter life’s uncertain fights,

Rewards of Church and State they own:

Firm in their resistance, check

The confused aims of everyman.

No, Nature and Mind are heretics!

Wizards! Ruining town and land.

And you, with brazen impudence still

Invoke them here in this high circle:

You’re fostering the corrupted will,

Fools are always hand in hand.

MEPHISTOPHELES

By this I recognise a most learned lord!

What you can’t feel lies miles abroad,

What you can’t grasp, you think, is done with too.

What you don’t count on can’t be true,

What you can’t weigh won’t weigh, of old,

What you don’t coin: that can’t be gold.

THE EMPEROR

You won’t sort out our faults like that,

Will Lenten sermons make men fat?

I’m tired of the eternal ‘if and when’:

We’re short of gold, well fine, so fetch some then.

MEPHISTOPHELES

I’ll fetch what you wish, and I’ll fetch more:

Easy it’s true, but then easy things weigh more:

It’s there already, yet how we might achieve it,

That’s the tricky thing, knowing how to seize it.

Just think how, in those times of consternation,

When a human flood drowned land and nation,

People were so terrified, everywhere,

They hid their treasures, here and there.

So it was when mighty Rome held sway,

And so it goes on, yesterday and today.

Still buried in the earth, why, there it is:

The earth is the Emperor’s, so it’s his.

THE TREASURER

For a Fool his aim’s not out of sight:

It’s true, that’s an old Imperial right.

THE CHANCELLOR

Satan lays out his gilded nets, for you,

These things don’t square with what’s good and true.

THE STEWARD

Only bring them to court: I’ll welcome the sight,

And I’ll gladly accept the thing as not quite right.

THE COMMANDER IN CHIEF

The Fool’s clever,

To promise what each of us needs:

A soldier will never ask from whence it all proceeds.

MEPHISTOPHELES

If you think I’m cheating you, maybe,

Why here’s the man: ask Astrology!

He knows each circling hour and house:

So ask him: how are the Heavens now?

MURMURS

Two rogues, there – already known –

Fool and Dreamer – so near the throne –

An idle song – an ancient rhyme –

The Fool plays – the Wise Man speaks, in time –

THE ASTROLOGER (Speaks, with Mephistopheles prompting him.)

The Sun, himself, he is of purest gold:

Mercury, messenger, of riches told:

Venus has bewitched you all, and she

Looks on you, soon and late, quite lovingly:

The chaste Moon’s mood holds fast:

Mars won’t harm: his strength won’t last:

And Jupiter remains the loveliest sight:

While Saturn’s great, but far away and slight.

His metal we don’t greatly venerate,

Light of worth, though leaden in its weight.

Yes! When Sun and Moon are conjoined fine,

Silver and gold will make the whole world shine:

The rest as well in turn are all achieved,

Palaces, gardens proud, and rosy cheeks:

All this he brings this highly knowledgeable man:

He can deliver, too, what nobody else here can.

THE EMPEROR

The words they say, I hear them twice,

And yet I’m not convinced they’re right.

MURMURS

What’s all that? - A joke gone flat –

Horoscopy – And Chemistry –

I’ve heard that vein – Hoped in vain –

Come, quick – It’s still a trick –

MEPHISTOPHELES

They stand around: they’re all amazed,

They don’t trust what can be found,

One babbles about deadly nightshade,

The other of some jet-black hound.

What matter if one thinks I’m jesting,

Or another calls it sorcery,

If the soles of their feet are itching,

If their firm step totters towards me.

All can feel the secret working

Of Nature’s everlasting power,

And from its deepest lurking,

A living vein shall rise and flower.

When every member twitches,

When all looks strange to your eyes,

Make up your minds, be delvers,

Here the players, there the prize!

MURMURS

It’s like a lead-weight on my feet –

My arm’s swollen – but then, it’s gouty –

There’s a tickle here in my big toe –

All the way down my back it goes –

From these signs, I’d say we’re near

A rich vein of treasure, here.

THE EMPEROR

Quick then! Don’t slope off there!

Let’s test your froth of lies,

Show us, all, this rarest prize.

I’ll lay down the sword and sceptre,

With my own noble hands, as well,

If you don’t lie, complete the work myself,

And, if you lie, then send you down to Hell!

MEPHISTOPHELES

I’ll find the way there anyway –

Yet I really can’t exaggerate

What’s lying round ownerless, everywhere.

The farmer, ploughing the furrows, lays bare

A crock of gold the clods unfold:

Seeks saltpetre from damp limy walls,

And finds there golden rolls of gold,

In his poor hands: frightened by all.

What caverns exist to be blown open,

Through what shafts and cuttings then,

Burrow those gold-divining men,

Those neighbours of the Underworld!

Secure in vast ancient cellars, find,

Golden plates, bowls, cups for wine,

In rows, and heaps where they were hurled:

Goblets fashioned out of rubies,

And if they wants to try their uses,

Beside them there’s the ancient fluid.

Yet – I would trust the expert though –

The wooden casks rotted long ago,

The wine makes tartar, in the liquid.

Not just gold, and jewels, fine

But the essence then of noble wine

Terror hides, and night, as stark.

So quiz the wise untiringly:

It’s trivial, by day, to see:

Mystery: houses in the dark.

THE EMPEROR

See to it then! What use is it out of sight?

Whatever’s valuable must see the light.

Who knows a rogue for certain but by day?

At night all cows are black, and cats are grey.

The pots down there, full of golden weight –

Drive your plough, and, ploughing, excavate.

MEPHISTOPHELES

Take hoe and spade: and dig yourself,

Labouring will make you great,

A herd of golden calves, you’ll help

To rise from out their buried state.

Then with delight, without delay,

You can, yourself, your love array:

Glittering colours, shining gems, will best

Enhance your majesty, and her loveliness.

THE EMPEROR

Quick then, quick! How slow it always is!

THE ASTROLOGER (Prompted by Mephistopheles.)

Sire, restrain your urgent passion, please.

First let all your pleasant pastimes go:

Distracted natures won’t achieve the goal.

First we must atone for them in quiet,

Lower things are gained by the higher.

Who wants the good, must first be good:

Who wants delight, must calm the blood:

Who longs for wine, treads ripened grapes:

Who hopes for miracles, strengthens then his faith.

THE EMPEROR

So let the time be passed in merriment!

Ash Wednesday will achieve our grave intent.

And we can celebrate, wild Carnival,

More riotously, meanwhile, after all.

(They exit to the sound of trumpets.)

MEPHISTOPHELES

How merit and luck are linked together

These fools can’t see, no, not a one:

If they’d the Philosopher’s Stone, as ever,

There’d lack a philosopher for the stone.

PART II ACT I SCENE III: A SPACIOUS HALL WITH ADJOINING ROOMS

Arranged and decorated for a Carnival Masque.

HERALD

In our German lands, fear no evil,

Dance of Death or Fool, or Devil:

There’s a cheerful feast, here: wait.

Our Sire, on his Roman travels,

Has, for his profit, and our revels,

Crossed the highest Alpine levels,

And gained himself a happier State.

The Emperor kissed the holy slipper,

First, won sovereign rights, and as,

He was gifted with the crown, there,

Accepted a fool’s cap, for us.

We’re all newly born, now:

Every sophisticated man,

Pulls it snug over ears and brow:

He seems a poor fool, but he’ll vow

To wear it wisely as he can.

I see they’re gathering already,

Hesitant alone, or paired off intimately:

Chorus on chorus pushing through.

In, and out, quite undeterred:

And end up where they were before, too.

With its hundred thousand scenes of the absurd,

The World itself is just one giant Fool.

FLOWER GIRLS (Singing, accompanied by mandolins.)

Dressed to win your praises,

We are here tonight,

Young Florentine ladies,

At the German Court of light.

Many a bright flower we wear

To adorn our tawny hair:

Silken threads, silken gear,

They play their own part here.

Then our position’s well deserved, oh,

Worth your praise, without a doubt,

Our shining-flowers, by hand we sew,

So they bloom year in, year out.

All kinds of coloured snippets,

Placed with perfect symmetry:

You might mock us bit by bit, yes,

But the whole attracts you see.

We are pretty things to look on,

Flower Girls, and very smart:

Then, the temperament of Woman

Is so very close to Art.

HERALD

Let’s see those trays of flowers

That you carry on your heads,

That paint your arms with colours:

What each likes, let her select.

Quick: in walks and branches

What a garden we will share!

They are fit to crowd around us,

Flower sellers and their wares.

FLOWER GIRLS

Haggle in this cheerful place,

But seek no market here!

At a quick and witty pace,

Let all know what you bear.

AN OLIVE-BRANCH WITH OLIVES

I don’t envy flowery ones,

Every kind of strife I shun:

It’s unnatural, to me:

So I am the sign of nations,

And I seal their obligations,

Mark of peace in any field.

I hope I’m worth good luck today:

Some lovely head I might array.

A GARLAND OF WHEAT-EARS (Golden)

Ceres gift, for you to wear,

Charming, sweet, we were all sent:

The most desired of uses, here

As your beautiful adornment.

A FANCY GARLAND

Like a mallow, bright with colour,

A marvellous flower grew from the moss!

Never known before to Nature,

Yet Fashion brought it us.

A FANCY BOUQUET

My name’s for you to know,

Theophrastus couldn’t tell you though:

Yet I hope, if not all do,

Many of us will still please you,

She, I’d like, most to possess us,

Who might twine us in her tresses:

Or if she should so decide,

Set beside her heart, I’d ride.

ROSEBUDS

Many-coloured fancies may

Form the fashion of the day,

Strange and curious of shape,

Such as Nature never made:

Stalks of green and bells of gold,

Show in tresses all untold! –

Yet we – remain here, covered up:

Lucky those who first discover us.

When the summer is proclaimed,

Then the rosebuds are in flame,

Who would do without such pleasures?

Promises, and yielded treasures,

That, in the flowery kingdom, rule,

Mind and heart and glances, too.

( The Flower Girls garland themselves, and show their wares, gracefully, in the green leafy arcades ) .

THE GARD ENERS (Singing, accompanied by lutes.)

See the flowers quietly growing,

On your brows, sweetly amuse you,

And their fruit will not seduce you,

One may taste delight in knowing.

Sunburned faces offer up,

Peaches, plums, and cherries, yet.

Buy! Against the tongue and palate,

The eye is the worst way to judge.

Come, of all this ripest fruit,

Eat with taste, and delight!

Poems on roses might still suit,

But on the apple man must bite.

So then let us join with their

Flowering youth itself,

And we’ll dress our riper wares

In our neighbour’s wealth.

Dressed in cheerful garlands, there,

Along this jewelled leafy route,

All things can be found together,

Buds and leaves, and flowers and fruit.

( Both choruses set out their goods on the flight of steps, with alternating song accompanied by the lutes and mandolins, and offer their wares to the spectators ( .

A MOTHER (With her daughter.)

Child, when you came to light,

I dressed you in your little hat:

Your face was so sweet and bright,

And your body was soft, at that.

I thought you’d soon be a bride,

To the wealthiest of men allied,

I thought you’d find a match.

Ah! Now already many a year

Has flown by, uselessly,

The motley crowd of suitors here,

Pass you quickly by, I see:

With him you danced a lively dance,

Gave that other a knowing glance

With your elbow, sharply.

I’ve thought about the many feasts

We went to, all in vain,

Forfeits, and Hide and Seek,

Couldn’t help, that’s plain:

Today the fools are out the trap,

Darling, open then your lap,

There’s someone you can gain.

Other young and lovely girls join the Flower Girls, and they gossip together. Fishermen and bird-catchers with fishing rods, nests, limed twigs and other implements appear, and scatter themselves among the girls. Mutual attempts to win over, catch, escape and embrace, allow the most agreeable conversation.

WOOD-CUTTERS (Entering, loudly and boisterously.)

Make way! Stand back!

We must be free,

We fell the trees,

They crash, and smash:

And when we pass,

Expect a smack.

To give us praise

Consider this:

If coarser ways,

Weren’t in this land,

How’d the finest,

Have means to stand,

Despite they’re jesting?

So learn our meaning!

For you’d be freezing,

If we weren’t sweating.

PULCINELLI

You’re fools, a troop,

That’s born to stoop.

We’re the wise,

We see through lies:

And then our bags

Our caps and rags,

Are light to wear:

And free from care,

We’re always idle,

Slippered, we sidle,

Through market crowds,

Slithering about,

Standing to gaze,

And croak, amazed:

And at that sound,

Through heaving mounds,

Eel-like slipping,

Lightly skipping,

We romp together.

Praise us ever,

Or scold us so,

We let both go.

THE PARASITICAL (Fawning, and lustful.)

You brave woodsmen,

And your next of kin,

The charcoal-burners,

You’re the men for us.

Since all the stooping,

The ready nodding,

The winding phrase,

That plays both ways,

That warms or chills,

Just as one feels,

What profit is it then?

The mighty fire

From heaven or higher,

Might come in vain

Without logs again,

And coal heaps there,

To light the oven

And make it glare.

It roasts and steams,

It boils and teems.

The finger-picker,

The plate-licker,

He sniffs the fry,

Suspects the fish:

Rules, by and by,

The patron’s dish.

A DRUNK (Confused.)

Nothing seems bad to me today!

I feel so frank, and free:

New joys, and happy songs, I say.

I brought them both with me!

So let’s drink! Drink, and drink!

Drink up, you! Clink, and clink!

You behind me, come around!

Drink it up, and send it down.

My wife was so outraged, she screamed,

When I turned up, dressed so funny,

However much I boasted, she

Kept calling me a tailor’s dummy.

So I drink! Drink, and drink!

Clink the tankards! Clink, and clink!

Tailor’s dummy: swill it round!

When it’s clinked, drink it down!

Don’t you say, I’ve lost my way:

I’m here, where I’ve got it made.

If host and hostess won’t play,

I’ll get credit from the maid.

Always drinking! Drink, and drink!

Lift, you others! Clink, and clink!

Each to each! So it goes round!

Too soon, I know, it’s all gone down.

However I please myself, may I

Have it happen at my command:

Let me lie here, where I lie,

If I can’t, any longer, stand.

CHORUS

Every pal, now: drink and drink!

A toast again, a clink and clink!

Hold tight now to bench and ground!

Under the table, he’ll be found.

The Herald announces sundry poets – Poets of Nature, and Court, and Minstrels, Sentimentalists and Enthusiasts. In this competitive crowd no one allows anyone else to start reciting. One slips by with a few words.

A SATIRICAL POET

As a poet, do you know

What I’d most enjoy, here?

If I dared to sing, or bellow

What no one wants to hear.

The Night and Church Poets excuse themselves having become engaged in a very interesting conversation with a newly-risen Vampire, from which a new school of poetry might derive. The Herald has to accept their excuses, and meanwhile calls on characters from Greek Mythology, who even in modern masks lose neither their character nor power to charm.

The Three Graces appear.

AGLAIA

Grace it is we bring, to living:

So be graceful in your giving.

HEGEMONE

Gracefully may you receive:

Lovely is the wish achieved.

EUPHROSYNE

And in quieter hours, and places,

Chiefly, in your thanks, be gracious.

The Three Fates appear

ATROPOS

I, the eldest, I, the spinning

Am lumbered with this time: I’ve

Need of lots of pondering, thinking,

To yield the tender threads of life.

So you may be soft and supple,

I sift through the finest flax:

Drawn through clever fingers, double

Fine, and even, smooth as wax.

If you wish all joy and dancing,

Excessive now, in what you take,

Think about those threads: their ending.

Then, take care! The threads might break.

CLOTHO

Know that in these latter days,

I was trusted with the shears:

Since our eldest sister’s ways,

Failed to help men, it appears.

She dragged all her useless spinning,

Endlessly to air and light,

While the hopes of wondrous winnings,

Were clipped and buried out of sight.

I too made a host of errors:

Myself, in my younger years,

But, to keep myself in check, there’s

The case, in which I keep my shears.

And so, willingly restrained,

I look kindly on this place,

In these hours, your freedom gained,

Run on and on, at your wild pace.

LACHESIS

I, the only one with sense,

To twist the threads am left:

My ways brook no nonsense,

I’ve never hurried yet.

Threads they come, threads I wind,

Guiding each one on its track,

Letting no thread wander blind,

Twining each one in the pack.

If I, once, forgot myself, my fears

For the world would give me pause:

Counting hours, measuring years,

So the Weaver holds her course.

HERALD

You wouldn’t recognise the ones who come now,

However much you know of ancient troubles,

To look at them, the cause of many evils,

You’d call them welcome guests, and bow.

They’re the Furies: no one will believe me,

Pretty, shapely, friendly, young in years:

But meet with them, you’ll quickly learn I fear,

How serpent-like these doves are to hurt freely.

Though they’re malicious, in modernity,

Where fools now boast about their sinful stories,

They too have ceased to want the Angels’ glories:

Confess themselves the plague of land and city.

The Furies approach.

ALECTO

What does that matter? You still believe in us:

Then, we’re pretty, young, and fawning kittens:

If one of you has a lover, with whom he’s smitten,

We’ll tickle his ears at length, sweetly fuss,

Till it would be safe to tell him, eye to eye,

That she waves to him, and him, the same,

She’s thick up top, a crooked back, and lame,

And married, she’d be no good, by and by.

We know how to pester the bride-to-be as well:

Scarcely a week ago, her lover himself,

Said nasty things to her about herself! –

They’re reconciled, but something rankles still.

MEGAERA

That’s a joke! Let them be married, any way,

I’ll take it up, and know, whatever may befall,

Through wilfulness the sweetest joys will pall,

Man’s changeable, and changeable the day.

And no one holds the desired one in his arms,

Without longing, foolishly, for the more-desired,

Leave’s his good fortune, with which he was fired:

Flies from the sun, and asks the frost for warmth.

I know how to give birth to those things: there,

Is Asmodi, who is my faithful servant,

To work true mischief at the proper moment,

And send to ruin all Mankind, in pairs.

TISIPHONE

Instead of malice: poison and the knife

I’m mixing, sharpening for that betrayer:

Love another, and sooner now or later,

Ruin itself will penetrate your life.

Gall and wormwood they must roam

Through all those sweetest moments!

No bargaining here, no bartering, come –

The perpetrator must atone.

Let no one sing about forgiveness!

I cry my cause to the cliffs again,

Echo! Hear! Reply: Avenge!

Let him who alters, cease existence.

THE HERALD

I’ll ask you please, to move aside,

Since what comes next, is otherwise.

You can see, here’s a mountain coming,

Decked with princely coloured trappings,

A tusked head, snaking trunk, there too,

A mystery, but I’ll reveal the key to you.

A delicate and dainty girl sits on its neck,

And with a thin wand keeps the beast in check:

Another, up there, standing, wonderfully,

Surrounded with light, almost blinding me.

Beside it, two girls walk in chains, one fearful,

While the other girl seems quite cheerful:

One wishes to be, and one feels she is, free.

Let each of them declare who they might be.

FEAR

Smoking torches, flares and lights,

Are burning at the troubled feast:

Among all these deceptive sights,

Ah, I’m held fast by the feet.

Away, you ridiculous smilers!

I suspect those grins so bright:

All my enemies, beguilers,

Press towards me through the night.

Here! A friend becomes a foe,

Yet I know that mask, I’d say:

One that wants to kill me, though,

Now unmasked he creeps away.

Gladly, heedless of direction

I’d escape from out this world:

But, beyond, there roars destruction:

In mists of terror I am furled.

HOPE

I greet you, sisters! Though today,

And the whole of yesterday,

You enjoyed the masquerade,

I know all will be displayed:

In the morning you’ll unveil.

And if, in the torchlight, we

Don’t feel particular delight,

Yet the days to come, so bright,

More wholly suited, we shall hail,

Now as one, now solitary,

Through fair fields, we’ll roam loose,

To act, or rest, as we choose,

And in that carefree way of living,

Dispense with nothing, go on striving:

Guests are welcome everywhere,

Confidently, let’s appear:

Surely, the best anywhere,

Must be somewhere, here.

INTELLIGENCE

Two of Man’s worst enemies,

Fear and Hope, I bind for you,

Now this country worries me.

Make room! I’ll rescue you.

I lead the living Colossus,

Turret-crowned, as you see,

Step by step, he crosses,

The highest passes, tirelessly.

But above me, on the summit,

Is a goddess, there, who’s bearing

Outspread wings, and turns about,

Everywhere, to see who’s winning.

Ringed by splendour, and by glory,

Shining far, on every side:

She calls herself – Victory,

Goddess of the active life.

ZOILO-THERSITES (An Ugly Dwarfish Warrior.)

Ah, ha! I’ve come just in time,

I hold you all guilty of crime!

Yet my goal I assume to be

Her up there: Queen Victory.

With her pair of snowy wings,

She’s an eagle, she must think:

And that whenever she’s on hand,

To her belong the folk and land:

But when famous deeds are done,

At once I’m here with armour on,

When low is high, and high is low,

Bent is straight, and straight not so,

That alone fills me with mirth,

I wish it so throughout the Earth.

THE HERALD

So I’ll lend you, dog from birth,

This good baton’s masterstroke!

Twist and turn now: it’s no joke! –

See how the twin dwarfish ape,

Rolls into a foul lumpish shape!

A wonder – the lump’s an egg, on cue,

It swells and then it cracks in two:

Now a pair of twins appear,

An adder and a bat roll clear.

One through the dust is swiftly winding,

The black one’s flitting round the ceiling.

They hurry outside, in company,

I wouldn’t choose to be number three.

MURMURS

Lively now! There’s dancing there –

No! I’d much rather be elsewhere–

Can’t you feel some ghostly race

Fly about us, through this place? –

Something just rushed through my hair –

Round my feet, it’s flying, where? –

None of us are injured though –

But we all are frightened so –

All the fun is spoilt completely –

As those creatures wished, you see.

THE HERALD

Since I play the herald’s role,

As this masquerade unfolds,

I watch sternly at the door,

In case some devious outlaw

To this happy place, comes creeping:

Never yielding, never wavering.

Through the window, though, I fear

Airborne spectres enter here:

From magic and from devilry

Alas, I cannot set you free.

All this makes the dwarf suspicious,

Now! From behind, a new masque issues.

And I must dutifully explain

The meaning of the forms, again.

But I can’t easily announce

What cannot be understood:

Help me explain it, if you would! –

See it wander through the crowd?

A splendid chariot, a four-in-hand,

Rolling through them, where they stand:

But it doesn’t split the people,

I see no one’s crushed at all.

Colours glitter in the distance,

Sundry wandering stars for instance,

A magic-lantern-like performance.

It blows along, a storm’s assault.

Make way, there! I shudder!

THE BOY CHARIOTEER

Halt!

Dragons, your wings restrain,

Feel your accustomed rein,

Control yourselves, if I control you,

Sweep away when I inspire you –

Let us do honour to this place!

Look round, a widening display

Of admirers, circle now on circle.

Herald, now, then! As you will,

Before we leave you all,

Describe us, and say our name:

Since we’re allegorical,

You should know us, plain.

THE HERALD

No, indeed, I can’t tell your name:

I’ll try and describe you all the same.

THE BOY CHARIOTEER

So try!

THE HERALD

I must confess

To young and handsome, before the rest.

You’re a half-grown boy: yet a woman

Would prefer to see you fully grown.

You seem to me a wooer, in future,

Out of her house, a real seducer.

THE BOY CHARIOTEER

Let’s hear more! Go on: go on,

Find the riddle’s bright solution.

THE HERALD

Dark eyes that shine: night-black hair

Which brightly jewelled bands enclose:

And what a dainty garment flows

From shoulder down to ankle, there:

With purple hem its glittering shows!

One might take you for a girl:

Yet for good or ill, you’d be,

Prized already by any girl,

She’d teach you your ABC.

THE BOY CHARIOTEER

And he, who like a splendid vision,

Sits on the chariot, enthroned there?

THE HERALD

He seems a king, a rich and kind one,

Blessed are they who gain his favour!

He has no further need to strive,

His eyes observe whatever’s lacking,

And to spread his pure delight,

Is more to him than joy and owning.

THE BOY CHARIOTEER

You daren’t stop there:

What you see, you must describe it precisely.

THE HERALD

I can’t express all the dignity.

But the glowing moon face, I see,

The full mouth, the bright cheeks, then

That shine beneath the jewelled turban:

Rich comfort in the clothes he’s wearing!

What shall I say about his bearing?

As a ruler he seems known to me.

THE BOY CHARIOTEER

Plutus the God of Riches, this is he!

He’s come himself in all his splendour,

The Emperor wished greatly he were here.

THE HERALD

Explain your own what and how to me!

THE BOY CHARIOTEER

I am Extravagance: I am Poetry:

I am the Poet, who is self-perfected

When his special gift is squandered.

Yet I’m immeasurably wealthy,

Like Plutus, worth as much as he,

I adorn, enliven, dance and feast,

And whatever he lacks, I complete.

HERALD

Your boasting makes you handsomer,

But let’s see all your skill appear.

THE BOY CHARIOTEER

Just watch me snap my fingers, now,

The chariot will gleam and glow.

There a string of pearls appear!

(He continues to snap his fingers, in all directions.)

Golden jewels for neck and ear:

Flawless combs and diadems,

Set in a ring, rare precious gems:

I scatter flames too, here and there,

Waiting for their chance to flare.

THE HERALD

How the dear crowd snatch, I see!

The giver’s soon in difficulty.

He snaps out jewels, as in a dream,

And they all snatch them, in a stream.

But now a different trick, you see:

What each has grasped so eagerly,

Has gained him but a poor reward,

The gifts already fluttering skyward.

The pearls are loosened from their band,

And beetles crawl there in his hand,

The poor man shakes them off, instead

They’re humming now around his head.

Another, for some solid thing,

Catches at a butterfly’s wing.

That’s what the rascal’s promise means:

He only lends them golden gleams!

THE BOY CHARIOTEER

You know how to announce masks:

It’s true, but it’s not the herald’s task to search below

The outer surface of existence:

That requires a keener sense.

Still I’m wary of all disputes.

Lord, I’ll direct my speech and questioning to you.

(Turning towards Plutus.)

Have you not trusted me with the task, to stand

And guide the tempest of your four-in-hand?

Don’t I steer well, as you direct?

Am I not there, when you expect?

And don’t I know how to win

The palm, for you, on daring wing?

When I’ve fought for you in war, now,

I’ve been successful every time:

When laurel wreaths adorn your brow

Have I not fashioned them with hand and mind?

PLUTUS

If I’m required to be a witness to it,

I’d say: You are the spirit of my spirit.

You always act according to my wishes,

And as I gain myself, you too are richer.

To reward your services, I value now

The green branch higher than my crown.

One true word, then, for everyone:

I’ve found delight in you, dear Son.

THE BOY CHARIOTEER

The greatest gifts from my hand,

See! I’ve scattered them around.

On every head there’s the glow

Of some little flame I throw:

Leaping from one brow to another,

Halts on him, then leaves his brother,

But rarely does the flame-let rise,

And briefly flower in bright skies:

For many, before they know, it’s vanished,

Sadly, it’s burnt out, and finished.

WOMEN (Chatting to each other.)

Up there, on the four-in-hand,

He’s certainly a charlatan:

And there’s a clown perched behind,

By hunger and thirst he’s been refined,

Like nothing one’s ever seen before:

Pinch, and he’ll feel nothing at all.

THE STARVELING

Disgusting women, leave me alone!

Not to come here again, I’ll know.

When women kept to their hearths, then

Avaritia, Greed: was my name:

The houses were fine, all about,

Lots came in, nothing went out!

I took care of cupboard and chest:

That was a burden, to top the rest.

But now in this younger age,

Wives don’t know how to save,

And like all those wicked students,

They have more desires than ‘talents’,

And their men have much to suffer,

Their debts are left about all over.

They spend whatever they can extract,

On their lovers, and on their backs:

They eat of the best, and drink deeper,

With their wretched army of admirers:

Which adds to the value of gold, for me:

We’re manly fellows, the Miserly!

LEADER OF THE WOMEN

Let dragon be miserly with dragon:

In the end it’s merely lies, illusion!

Men flock around, and turn the charm on,

But they’re soon annoyance and confusion.

THE CROWD OF WOMEN

That Scarecrow! Give him a poke!

What’s the Wooden Rake threaten?

We’ll all shun his ugly looks, then!

Dragons of wood and paper: a joke!

Look lively, now, and we’ll do him in!

THE HERALD

By my wand! Keep the peace! –

Though there’s no need for my assistance:

Look at those grim monsters, how each

Clears round itself a proper distance,

Unfolding its quadruple wings, the beast.

The dragons shake themselves, indignant,

With fiery throats, their tails rampant:

The place is cleared: the people flee.

Plutus descends from the chariot.

THE HERALD

He steps down, in a kingly manner!

He beckons, and the dragons stir:

From the chariot bearing Avarice,

And gold, down comes the chest,

See, there at his feet, it’s landed:

It’s a wonder how it happened.

PLUTUS (To the Boy Charioteer)

Now you’ve left that troubling burden here,

You’re free: so, fly now to your own sphere!

Not this! Where, confused, motley, wild,

Distorted objects crowd around us, child.

No: where you see clear, with sweetest Clarity,

Self-possessed, trusting in your own self: flee,

Where Goodness and Beauty may be viewed,

And there create your world – in Solitude!

THE BOY CHARIOTEER

So, I’ll be your worthy envoy then,

So, I’ll love you like my dearest kin.

Where you live, is Plenty: and where

I am, all feel they gain in splendour.

And often hesitate in life’s uncertainty:

Should they yield to you, or yield to me?

Certainly your followers will have rest:

Who follows me, with work’s forever blessed.

My actions are never kept a secret,

I only have to breathe and I’m apparent.

Farewell, then! You granted me my joy:

But whisper low, and you shall have your boy!

(He exits as he came.)

PLUTUS (Faust in disguise.)

And now it’s time to reveal the treasure!

I strike the lock with the herald’s wand.

It’s open! Look! Vessels of noblest measure,

Pour the golden blood through your hands,

First it swells, roars, writhes as if it’s molten:

A jewelled hoard of crowns, rings, and chains.

VARIOUS SHOUTS FROM THE CROWD

Look here, oh, there!

How rich it flows:

The chest, right to the brim, it glows. –

Golden vessels, molten too,

Rolls of coins, turning too. –

Minted ducats leaping,

Oh, how my heart is beating –

I see all, for which I’m yearning,

On the floor there, burning! –

It’s offered you, don’t be a fool,

Be rich, you only need to stoop. –

For, quick as lightning, all the rest,

Will take possession of the chest.

THE HERALD

What’s this, you Fools? Ah, yes,

It’s no more than a maskers’ jest.

Tonight, don’t ask for any more:

Think you, we’d give you golden ore?

In this game there are any amount

Of pennies: too many for you to count.

You clumsy idiots! A fine appearance,

Seems, to you, truth’s naked essence.

What is your Truth? – Hollow illusion

Grasps you, with its fool’s cap on. –

Heroic Mask, Plutus that conceals,

Drive these folk, then, from the field.

PLUTUS

Your wand’s best by a mile,

Lend it me for a little while. –

I’ll dip it, quick, in heat and glow. –

You Maskers, all take care then, now!

It gleams and bursts and throws off sparks!

The wand already shines in the dark.

And anyone who gets too near me,

Will be scorched, as well, mercilessly. –

And now I’ll sweep with my brand.

SHOUTS AND CONFUSION

Ah! We’re done for every man. –

Fly, now, whoever can! –

Back, back, the hindmost man! –

It’s shining brightly in my eyes. –

On me the wand’s hot weight lies –

We’re all lost, lost for good. –

Back, back, you masks in flood!

Back, back, you senseless mob! –

If I’d wings, I’d soar aloft. –

PLUTUS

The circle backwards sinks,

Yet no one’s scorched, I think.

The crowd will now give way,

They’re only scared I’d say. –

But to guarantee good order,

I’ll mark out an unseen border.

THE HERALD

You’ve done a fine job all right,

Thanks to your cunning, and might.

PLUTUS

Noble friend, you’ll still need patience:

All kinds of turmoil still threaten us.

AVARICE

Now, if it pleases you, you may

Cast your eye around with pleasure:

The women are to the fore as ever,

Where they can nibble things, or gaze.

Still, I’m not completely rusty!

A lovely woman’s always lovely:

And since, today, it costs me nothing,

With confidence, I too go wooing.

Still, here, in such a crowded space,

Lest words fall in an idle place,

I’ll try being clever, attempt success,

And in clear mime make my address.

Hands, feet, gesturing won’t cut the ice,

So, I’ll have to employ a comical device.

I’ll shape the gold like moistened clay,

Since the metal’s malleable anyway.

THE HERALD

What’s he up to that skinny Fool!

Is there a jest in the starveling too?

He kneads the gold just like dough,

It’s soft between his hands, although

However he squeezes and forms it all,

It still remains a shapeless ball.

He turns now towards the women,

They all scream, and start to run,

Gesturing in complete disgust:

That rascal’s up to no good.

I fear he’ll be in ecstasy

If he can offend morality.

I shan’t remain silent, anyway

Give me the wand: I’ll drive him away.

PLUTUS

He doesn’t see what we threaten here:

Let him pursue his foolishness!

There’ll be no room left for his excess:

The law is great, but necessity’s greater.

TUMULT AND SINGING

The wild crowd come here, specially,

From mountain-top, and wooded valley,

Shouting forcefully, as they can:

They celebrate the great god Pan.

They know what none can know,

And into the empty circle flow.

PLUTUS

‘I know you well, and your great Pan!

Together these daring steps you plan.

I know all that no one knows,

And clear for you this narrow close.’

May good fortune follow them too!

The strangest things may happen:

They don’t know where they’re going to:

Since they never look before them.

WILD SINGING

You plaster people: you tinsel show!

Rough and coarse is how they go,

Leaping: wild is their track ahead,

Solid and sturdy is their tread.

FAUNS

The Faun flocks

In happy dance,

Oaken garlands,

On curling locks,

Fine pointed ears

Through tangled hair,

Snub noses, faces broad and flat,

The women can’t fault any of that:

When the Fauns begin to prance,

The loveliest won’t scorn the dance.

A SATYR

The Satyr’s leaping here behind,

Goat’s foot, and lean of thigh,

Sinewy, skinny he’ll go by,

And chamois-like, on mountain height,

He looks around, and takes delight.

He’s alive in the free air,

Mocks at man, child, woman there,

Who deep in the valley’s damp flue,

Think, cosily, they’re living too,

While, still pure and undisturbed,

To him alone is the upper world.

THE GNOMES

The little crowd trips by there,

They don’t like to travel in pairs:

In mossy clothes with lanterns bright,

They pass together, quick and light,

Each one passing on his own,

Like glowing ants swarming home:

And always busy, here and there,

Industrious, and everywhere.

Kin to the ‘Little People’, known

As surgeons to the rock and stone:

‘We bleed the mountains high,

We drain the deep veins dry:

We hurl the metals round,

With hearty greetings: Luck! Well found!

And it’s always kindly meant: again,

We’re the friends of all good men.

Yet we the gold to light deliver,

So men may steal, and covet ever,

So princely hand won’t lack the steel

That worldwide murder longs to deal.

Who those three commandments breaks

Scant heed of the other seven takes.

But of all that we’re innocent:

About it all, like us, be patient.’

THE GIANTS

The wild men, we are named,

Known in all the Hartz range:

Natural, plain, in all our antics,

Appearing frightfully gigantic.

A fir-tree trunk in each right hand,

Round our body a thick band,

A solid apron of branches, not

The bodyguard the Pope has got.

NYMPHS IN CHORUS (Surrounding Great Pan, who is the masked Emperor.)

Here he’ll stand! –

The world’s All,

Is shown to all,

In mighty Pan.

You the happiest, surround him,

In magic dances soar around him:

Here now, serious and good, he

Wishes all men to be happy.

Under the curving roof of blue

He seems endlessly wakeful, too,

Yet the streams flow gently for him,

And the breezes gently rock him,

And, when he sleeps at noon, the leaf

Is motionless in the branches’ wreath:

The rich plants’ fragrant balsams there

Fill all the still and silent air:

The Nymph no longer dares to leap,

And where she stands, falls fast asleep.

But when his powerful shout,

Unexpectedly, rings out,

Like thunder crack, or wave’s roar,

Who knows what’s happening any more,

The army’s witless in the fight,

The hero in battle’s filled with fright.

So honour him, where honour’s due,

And hail him, who led us to you!

A DEPUTATION OF GNOMES (To Great Pan.)

When the rich and shining goods,

Spread threadlike through the deep,

Then delicate divining rods,

Reveal what labyrinths keep.

Bending in our dark vaults, there,

As troglodytes we’re measured,

While in the purest daylight air,

Gracious, you divide the treasure.

Now we find we’ve discovered

A marvellous fountain here,

Promising, easily, to deliver

Things that infrequently appear.

It all waits for your command:

Master, take and care for it: do.

Every treasure in your hand,

Helps the whole world too.

PLUTUS (To the Herald.)

We must grasp things in the highest sense,

And let what may come, come, with confidence.

You’ve shown the highest courage once before.

So now too what is fearful, we must try it:

World, and posterity, will stubbornly deny it,

So pen it faithfully in your report.

THE HERALD (Grasping the wand in Plutus’ hand, and assisting with the Masquerade.)

The dwarves lead on great Pan,

Gently, to the fiery fountain:

It boils from the deep profound,

Then sinks again, through the ground,

And gloomy is its open round:

Yet shows again the heat and glow.

Great Pan stands there, well disposed,

Pleased with all this wondrous thing,

Pearl foam, right, left, showering.

How can he trust such a show?

He bends to look inside, and so,

His beard gets caught within! –

Who’s made that hairless chin?

His hand hides it from our vision. –

What follows is all clumsy action:

The beard, on fire, flies back, soon

Scorching garland, chest and head:

Delight is turned to pain instead. –

They rush to quench it all again,

But none of them are free of flames,

And how they flare and dart,

Exciting fire in every part:

Wreathed in that element,

The whole masked crowd is burnt.

But what’s all this news about,

Ear after ear, mouth after mouth!

O eternally unlucky night

So little of it’s turned out right!

Tomorrow’s dawn will declare

What nobody wants to hear:

In every ear we’ll hear it plain:

‘The Emperor is in such pain.’

O, would that it were something other!

Burnt, Emperor and Court together.

Cursed be those who led him astray,

In resinous twigs did him array,

To rage, and bellow out that song,

To the ruin of all that throng.

O Youth, Youth will you never

Restrict joy’s purest measure?

O Power, Power, will you never,

Sense and Omnipotence treasure?

The ‘forest’ too is soon in flames,

The pointed tongues play their games,

To the real wooden beams lick higher:

We’re threatened by universal fire.

The cup of misery overflows,

Who will save us? No one knows.

See, Imperial splendour, by dawn’s light,

Turned to a heap of ash, in a single night.

PLUTUS

That’s enough terror overhead,

Let help arrive here, instead! –

Strike, you heavenly wand, with power,

So the earth will ring and tremor!

You, the wide realms of air,

Fill with cool fragrance there!

Hurry down, to sweep around us,

Cloudy mists and swelling vapours,

Quench the thronging flames!

Murmuring, trickling, fogs gather,

Sliding, rolling, softly drenching,

Slipping everywhere, and quenching.

You, the moist, who soothe forever,

Change them all to gleaming weather,

All these empty fiery games! –

Threatening Spirits, that would harm,

We, by magic, will disarm.

PART II ACT I SCENE IV: A PLEASURE GARDEN IN THE MORNING SUN

The Emperor, his Court, Noblemen and Ladies: Faust and Mephistopheles dressed fashionably but not ostentatiously, both kneel.

FAUST

Sire, forgive the fiery conjuring tricks?

THE EMPEROR (Beckoning to him to rise.)

More fun, in that vein, would be my wish. –

At once, I saw myself in a glowing sphere,

It seemed as if I were divine Pluto, there.

A rocky depth of mine, and darkness, lay

Glowing with flame: out of each vent played

A thousand wild and whirling fires,

And flickered in the vault together, higher,

Licking upwards to the highest dome,

That now seemed there, and now was gone.

Through a far space wound with fiery pillars,

I saw a long line of people approach us,

Crowding till they formed a circle near,

And paid me homage, as they do forever.

From Court, I knew one face, and then another’s,

I seemed the Prince of a thousand salamanders.

MEPHISTOPHELES

You are, Sire! Since every element

Knows your Majesty, amongst all men.

You’ve now proved the fire obedient:

Leap in the sea, in its wildest torrent,

You’ll barely touch its pearl-strewn bed,

A noble dome will rise round you, instead:

You’ll see green translucent waves swelling

Purple edged, to make the loveliest dwelling,

And you will be its centre. At each step

Wherever you go, the palace follows yet,

The very walls themselves delight in life,

Flash to and fro, in swarming arrow-flight.

Sea-wonders crowd around this sweet new sight,

Shoot past, still not allowed to enter quite.

There, golden-scaled, bright sea-dragons play,

The shark gapes wide, you smile in his face.

However much your court attracts you now,

You’ve never seen such an amazing crowd.

Nor will you part there from the loveliest:

The Nereids will be gathering, curious,

To this wondrous house, in seas eternally fresh,

The youngest shy and pleasure-loving, like fish,

The old ones: cunning. Thetis at the news,

Gives hand and lips to this second Peleus. –

A seat there, on the height of Olympus, too…

THE EMPEROR

I’ll leave the airy spaces all to you:

Soon enough we’ll be climbing to that throne.

MEPHISTOPHELES

And, Sire, the Earth already is your own!

THE EMPEROR

What brought you here, now: what good fortune,

Straight from the Thousand Nights and One?

If you’re as fertile as Scheherezade

I’ll guarantee you a sublime reward.

Be ready then, when your world’s light,

As it often does, disappoints me quite.

THE STEWARD (Entering hastily.)

Your Supreme Highness, I never thought

To announce such luck, the finest wrought,

As this is, for me the greatest blessing,

Which I’ve revealed in your presence:

For debt after debt I’ve accounted,

The usurer’s claws now are blunted,

I’m free of Hell’s pain, and then,

It can’t be any brighter in Heaven.

THE COMMANDER IN CHIEF (Follows hastily.)

Something’s paid of what we owe,

The Army’s all renewed their vow,

The Cavalry’s fresh blood is up,

And girls and landlords can sup.

THE EMPEROR

Now your chests breathe easier!

Now your furrowed brows are clear!

How quickly you hurried to the hall!

THE TREASURER (Appearing.)

Ask them: it was they who did it all.

FAUST

It’s right the Chancellor should read the page.

THE CHANCELLOR (Coming forward slowly.)

I’m happy enough to do so, in my old age. –

See and hear the scroll, heavy with destiny,

That’s changed to happiness, our misery.

‘To whom it concerns, may you all know,

This paper’s worth a thousand crowns, or so.

As a secure pledge, it will underwrite,

All buried treasure, our Emperor’s right.

Now, as soon as the treasure’s excavated,

It’s taken care of, and well compensated.’

THE EMPEROR

I smell a fraud, a monstrous imposture!

Who forged the Emperor’s signature?

Have they gone unpunished for their crime?

THE TREASURER

Remember! You yourself it was that signed:

Last night. You acted as great Pan,

Here’s how the Chancellor’s speech began:

‘Grant yourself this great festive pleasure,

The People’s Good: a few strokes of the feather.’

You wrote it here, and while night ruled the land,

A thousand artists created another thousand,

So all might benefit from your good deed,

We stamped the whole series with your screed,

Tens, Thirties, Fifties, Hundreds, all are done.

You can’t think how well the folk get on.

See your city once half-dead with decay,

Now all’s alive, enjoying its new day!

Though your name’s long filled the world with glee,

They’ve never gazed at it so happily.

Now the alphabet’s superfluous,

In these marks there’s bliss for all of us.

THE EMPEROR

And my people value it as gold, you say?

The Court and Army treat it as real pay?

Then I must yield, though it’s wonderful to me.

THE STEWARD

It was impossible to catch the escapee:

It flashed like lightning through the land:

The moneychanger’s shops are jammed,

Men pay, themselves, the papers mount

They’re gold and silver, and at a discount.

Now used by landlords, butchers, bakers:

Half the world think they’re merrymakers,

The others, newly clothed, are on show.

The drapers cut the cloth: the tailors sew.

The toast is ‘Hail, the Emperor!’ in the bars,

With cooking, roasting, tinkling of jars.

MEPHISTOPHELES

Strolling, lonely, on the terrace,

You see a beauty, smartly dressed,

One eye hidden by her peacock fan,

She smiles sweetly, looks at your hand:

And, quicker than wit or eloquence,

Love’s sweetest favour’s arranged at once.

You’re not plagued with pouch or wallet,

A note beneath the heart, install it,

Paired with love-letters, conveniently.

The priest carries his in a breviary,

And wouldn’t the soldier be quicker on his way,

With a lighter belt around his middle, say.

Your Majesty will forgive me if, in miniature,

I produce a low note, in our high adventure.

FAUST

The wealth of treasure that solidifies,

That in your land, in deep earth lies,

Is all unused. In our boldest thought,

Such riches are only feebly caught:

Imagination, in its highest flight,

Strives to, but can’t reach that height.

But grasping Spirits, worthy to look deeply,

Trust in things without limit, limitlessly.

MEPHISTOPHELES

Such paper’s convenient, for rather than a lot

Of gold and silver, you know what you’ve got.

You’ve no need of bartering and exchanging,

Just drown your needs in wine and love-making.

If you lack coin, there’s moneychangers’ mile,

And if it fails, you dig the ground a while.

Cups and chains are auctioned: well,

Since the paper, in this way, pays for itself,

It shames the doubters, and their acid wit,

People want nothing else, they’re used to it.

So now in all of your Imperial land

You’ve gems, gold, paper enough to hand.

THE EMPEROR

The Empire thanks you deeply for this bliss:

We want the reward to match your service.

We entrust you with the riches underground,

You are the best custodians to be found.

You know the furthest well-concealed hoard,

And when men dig, it’s you must give the word.

You masters of our treasure, then, unite,

Accept your roles with honour and delight:

They make the Underworld, and the Upper,

Happy in their agreement, fit together.

THE TREASURER

No dispute will divide us in the future:

I’m happy to have a wizard for a partner.

(He exits with Faust.)

THE EMPEROR

Now, presents for the court: everyone

Confess to me whatever it is you want.

A PAGE (Accepting his present.)

I’ll live well, happy, have the best of things.

ANOTHER (Also.)

I’ll quickly buy my lover chains and rings.

A CHAMBERLAIN

I’ll drink wines that are twice as fine.

A SECOND CHAMBERLAIN

The dice in my pockets itch I find.

A KNIGHT (Thoughtfully.)

My lands and castle will be free of debt.

A SECOND KNIGHT

It’s treasure: a second treasure I will get.

THE EMPEROR

I hoped for desire and courage for new deeds:

But whoever knows you, thinks you slight indeed.

I see, clearly: despite this treasure and more,

You’re all the same, still, as you were before.

THE FOOL (Recovered, and approaching the throne.)

You’re handing presents out: give me one too!

THE EMPEROR

Alive again? You’d drink it all you fool.

THE FOOL

Magic papers! I don’t understand them, truly.

THE EMPEROR

That I’d believe: you’ll only use them badly.

THE FOOL

Others are falling: I don’t know what to do.

THE EMPEROR

Just pick them up: those are all yours too.

(The Emperor exits.)

THE FOOL

Five thousand crowns I’m holding, in my hand!

MEPHISTOPHELES

You two-legged wineskin, so you still stand?

THE FOOL

I’ve had my luck, but this is the best yet.

MEPHISTOPHELES

You’re so delighted: look, it’s made you sweat.

THE FOOL

But see here, is it truly worth real gold?

MEPHISTOPHELES

You’ve there just what belly and throat are owed.

THE FOOL

And can I buy a cottage, cow and field?

MEPHISTOPHELES

Why yes! There’s nothing to it: make a bid.

THE FOOL

A castle: with forests, hunting, fishing?

MEPHISTOPHELES

Trust me!

To see you a proper Lord would make me happy!

THE FOOL

Tonight I’ll plant my weight on what I’ll get! –

(He Exits.)

MEPHISTOPHELES

Who doubts now that our Fool’s full of wit!

PART II ACT I SCENE V: A GLOOMY GALLERY

Faust. Mephistopheles.

MEPHISTOPHELES

Why bring me here to this dark passage?

Isn’t there fun enough inside,

In the Court’s colourful tide,

Opportunities for jests and sharp practice?

FAUST

Don’t give me that: in the good old days

You wore us out in a thousand ways:

And now this wandering, there and here,

Is only so I can’t catch your ear.

But there’s something I need done:

Commander and Chamberlain egg me on.

The Emperor, I must work quickly for him,

Wants Helen and Paris to appear before him:

He wants to see the ideal form of Man

Clearly revealed to him, and Woman.

Get to work! I daren’t break my word.

MEPHISTOPHELES

Such a thoughtless promise was absurd.

FAUST

Friend, you haven’t considered

Where your powers have lead us:

First we made him rich, and how,

So he wants us to amuse him now.

MEPHISTOPHELES

You think it’s fixed that quickly:

We’re looking at a deeper track,

To the strangest realm, and wickedly,

Adding new faults to the old,

Do you think it’s easy to call Helen back,

Like a pasteboard spirit edged with gold –

Witch-bitches, ghost-hostesses, freely,

Or dwarf-maidens, I’ll serve you equally:

But Devil’s sweethearts, though you’re for them,

Still you can’t, as heroines, applaud them.

FAUST

Still the same old story, every day!

With you, things are always difficult.

You’re the father of all obstacles,

For every miracle you want more pay.

I know: a little muttering, and it’s done:

At a blink, you’ll bring her here.

MEPHISTOPHELES

With Pagan folk I don’t get on:

They live in their own Hell there:

Yet, there is a way.

FAUST

Tell, without delay!

MEPHISTOPHELES

Unwillingly! There’s a greater mystery, I say,

Goddesses, enthroned on high, and solitary.

No space round them, not even time: only

To speak of them embarrasses me.

They are The Mothers!

FAUST (Terrified.)

Mothers!

MEPHISTOPHELES

Are you afraid?

FAUST

The Mothers! Mothers! It sounds so strange!

MEPHISTOPHELES

As, it is. Goddesses, unknown, as you see,

To you Mortals, not named by us willingly.

You must dig in the Depths to reach them:

It’s your own fault that we need them.

FAUST

Where is the path?

MEPHISTOPHELES

No path! Into the un-enterable,

Never to be entered: One path to the un-askable,

Never to be asked. Are you ready?

No locks, no bolts to manipulate,

You’ll drift about in solitary space.

Can you conceive the waste and solitary?

FAUST

I think you might spare the speeches then:

They always smell of the witches’ kitchen,

Of a long forgotten time, to me.

Have I not trafficked with the world?

Learned the void, the void unfurled? –

When I spoke with reason, as I descried,

Contradiction, doubly loud, replied:

Have I not fled, from hateful trickery,

Into the wild, into the solitary,

And, not to lose all, and live alone,

Surrendered to the Devil’s own?

MEPHISTOPHELES

And if you’d swum through every ocean,

And seen the boundless space all round

You’d still have seen wave on wave in motion,

Though you might have been afraid to drown.

You’d have seen something. Seen, within

The green still seas, the leaping dolphin:

Seen clouds go by, Sun, Moon and star –

You’ll see none in the endless void, afar,

Hear not a single footstep fall,

Find no firm place to rest at all.

FAUST

You speak as chief of all Mystagogues, who

Deceive their neophytes, the loyal and true:

Only reversed. You send me to the Void,

So I’ll increase the power and skill employed:

To use me, like a cat, that’s your desire:

Just to claw your chestnuts from the fire.

The same as ever! I’ll find what I’ll discover:

In your Nothingness, I hope, the All I will recover.

MEPHISTOPHELES

I’ll praise you, before you separate from me,

That you know the Devil, I can truly see:

Here take this key.

FAUST

That tiny thing!

MEPHISTOPHELES

Grasp it, it has a worth you’re undervaluing.

FAUST

It’s growing in my hand, it shines and glows!

MEPHISTOPHELES

What one possesses in it, would you now know?

The key will sniff the place out, from all others.

Follow it down: it leads you to the Mothers.

FAUST

The Mothers! That always strikes me like a blow!

What is that word that, once heard, scares me so?

MEPHISTOPHELES

Are you so limited one new word disturbs you?

Will you only hear what you’re accustomed to?

Don’t be troubled, whatever strange sound rings,

You’ve already long been used to marvellous things.

FAUST

Yes, there’s no good for me in lethargy.

A shudder’s the truest sign of humanity:

Though the world is such we may not feel it,

Once seized by it, we feel Immensity deeply.

MEPHISTOPHELES

Then, descend! I might as easily say rise!

It’s all the same. Escape from what exists,

Into the boundless realm where all Form lies!

Delight in what’s no longer on the list:

Where turmoil rolls along all cloudily:

Then, far from your body, swing the key!

FAUST (Inspired.)

Good! I feel new strength, firmly grasped,

My heart expands, on now to the great task.

MEPHISTOPHELES

Sight of a glowing tripod will tell you, finally,

You’re in the last deep, deepest there might be.

By its light you’ll see the Mothers,

Some sit about, as they wish, the others,

Stand and move. Formation, Transformation,

Eternal minds in eternal recreation.

Images of all creatures float, portrayed:

They’ll not see you: they only see a shade.

Be of good heart, the danger there is great,

Go to the tripod: don’t hesitate,

And touch it with the key!

Faust assumes a commanding attitude with the key.

MEPHISTOPHELES (Watching him.)

That’s right!

It will close itself, and follow as a servant might:

Exalted by your good luck, you’ll calmly rise,

And be back with it, before you’ve blinked your eyes.

And, once you’ve brought it here all right,

Call the Hero and Heroine from the night,

The first man who has ever achieved it:

It’s done, and you’re the one who did it.

By magic process then you’ll surely find,

The incense’ vapour will become divine.

FAUST

And now: what?

MEPHISTOPHELES

Strain with all your being: downward.

Stamp to descend, stamp again to go upward.

Faust stamps and sinks out of sight.

If he might only gain some good from that key!

I’m curious as to whether he’ll return to me.

PART II ACT I SCENE VI: BRILLIANTLY LIT HALLS

The Emperor and Princes. The Court in Action.

THE CHAMBERLAIN (To Mephistopheles.)

You still owe us that scene with the Spirits:

The Emperor’s impatient. Get on with it!

THE STEWARD

That’s what His Grace just now was saying:

You! Don’t offend His Majesty by delaying.

MEPHISTOPHELES

That’s why my companion has just gone:

He knows how to put the whole thing on,

And has to labour away in silence: still,

All the most special diligence he applies:

He who’d own that treasure, the Beautiful,

Needs highest arts, the magic of the wise.

THE STEWARD

The arts you need are neither here nor there:

The Emperor orders it to be prepared.

A BLONDE LADY (Approaching Mephistopheles.)

Sir, a word! You see a clear complexion,

Yet it’s not so in summertime’s dejection!

A hundred red-brown freckles all sprout there,

And cover my white skin: I’m in despair.

A cure!

MEPHISTOPHELES

A pity! Such a shining beauty,

Spotted like a panther-cub, in May!

Take frogspawn, toads’ tongues, in cohabitation,

Skilfully, under a full moon, make a distillation,

When it wanes, apply it undiluted,

When spring comes, the spots have been uprooted.

A DARK-HAIRED LADY

The crowd are pressing round

To squeeze you dry.

I ask a cure! For a frozen foot

That hinders me in dancing, walking by,

And I curtsey awkwardly to boot.

MEPHISTOPHELES

Permit a little kick from my foot.

DARK-HAIRED LADY

Well, between lovers that’s occurred before.

MEPHISTOPHELES

Child! My kick means something more.

Like cures like, when one’s suffering:

Foot heals foot, and so with every member.

Come! Pay attention! No retaliation there.

DARK-HAIRED LADY (Crying out.)

Ouch! Ouch! That hurt! I call that kicking

Like a horse’s hoof.

MEPHISTOPHELES

With that the cure I bring.

You can indulge in any amount of dancing,

Touch feet under the table with your darling.

A LADY (Pushing forward.)

Let me through! My suffering is so great,

He used to hold me in his heart’s embrace:

Yesterday his joy was in my glances,

He turns his back on me: with her romances.

MEPHISTOPHELES

That’s serious, but listen to me now.

You must gently press your advances,

Take this charcoal: mark him anyhow,

On his cloak or on his sleeve alight,

He’ll feel sweet Remorse’s blow.

Swallow the charcoal straight away,

No wine or water on your lips all day:

He’ll be sighing at your door tonight.

THE LADY

It’s not poisonous?

MEPHISTOPHELES (Offended.)

Respect now, where it’s due!

You’d have to travel far to find such charcoal:

It comes from the dying pyre at a funeral,

On which I, once more, diligently blew.

A PAGE

I’m in love: they say I’m not old enough to.

MEPHISTOPHELES (Aside.)

I’m not sure now, whom I should listen to.

(To the Page.)

Don’t set your heart on the younger ones.

The older will value what they’ve won.

Others crowd round.

More, already! What a demanding crew!

I’ll help myself, and out now with the truth:

The worst expedient! The pain is great, you see. –

O Mothers, Mothers! Just let Faust go free!

(Gazing round him.)

The lights burn dim, already, in the hall,

The Court’s moving off, and they’re all

Arranged in their proper rank, I see,

Through the far aisles and galleries.

Now they assemble in the largest place,

The vast Hall of the Knights, there’s barely space,

Who bought the mass of bright tapestry,

Filled corners, niches like an armoury.

Here I doubt there’s need of magic spells:

The ghosts will find this place for themselves.

PART II ACT I SCENE VII: THE HALL OF THE KNIGHTS, DIMLY LIT

The Emperor and Court.

THE HERALD

My ancient duty, to announce the play,

Is thwarted by the Spirits’ secret action:

Please forgive: there’s no sensible way

To explain such confused transformation.

The chairs are here: the stools and all:

The emperor’s high up, by the wall:

He can see the battles on the tapestry

From mighty ages: watching comfortably.

Here they all sit now, Prince, Court around,

Benches packed together, as background:

In this hour of spirits, too, the lovers

Have lovingly found room beside their lovers.

And now that all have found their proper places,

We’re ready: let the spirits show their faces!

( Trumpets ) .

THE ASTROLOGER

Begin the drama then without delay,

The Emperor commands: take walls away!

No further hindrance, here magic is at hand:

The Tapestry’s shrivelled as if by burning brand.

The walls divide, and sweep apart, as one,

An empty stage it seems has been created,

A mysterious light falls on our faces,

And I climb up to the proscenium.

MEPHISTOPHELES (Rising to view in the prompter’s box.)

From here I hope for general acclamation,

Prompting is the devil’s true oration.

(To the Astrologer.)

You know the measures that all the stars obey,

You’ll understand my whispers in a masterly way.

THE ASTROLOGER

By miraculous power appears to view,

A massive temple-front: it’s ancient too.

Like Atlas, who once held up the sky,

The many rows of columns stand on high.

They might well bear the stony weight,

Since two could raise a building straight.

THE ARCHITECT

That’s the antique! It doesn’t earn my praise,

Clumsy, overstretched we call it, nowadays.

Men think that crude is noble: bulk is greatness.

I love slender shafts, uplifting, boundless:

A pointed arch sends the spirit to the sky:

Architecture such as that will edify.

THE ASTROLOGER

Receive with reverence

These hours the stars allow:

Let words of magic bind pure Reason now:

Let marvellously daring Fantasy,

In return, sweep onward, wide and free.

Your eyes see what you daringly conceived:

It’s impossible, so more worthy to be believed.

Faust rises into view on the other side of the proscenium.

In priestly vestments, crowned, a wondrous man,

Fulfilling what he confidently began.

A tripod rises with him from deep abyss,

I smell the odour of incense in the dish.

He prepares to bless this sacred labour:

From this moment on it will find favour.

FAUST (Sublimely.)

In your name, Mothers, you enthroned

In boundlessness, set eternally alone,

And yet together. All the Forms of Life

Float round your heads, active, not alive.

Whatever was, in all its glow and gleam,

Moves there still, since it must always be.

And you assign it, with omnipotent might,

To day’s pavilion or the vault of night.

Life holds some fast on its sweet track,

Others the bold magician must bring back:

Filled with faith, and richly generous,

He shows, what each desires, the Marvellous.

THE ASTROLOGER

The glowing key has scarcely touched the dish,

At once the room is filled with darkened mist:

It swirls about, as puffs of cloud will do,

Grows, condenses, shrinks, and splits in two.

And now behold a spirit-masterpiece!

As it moves about, there’s music without cease.

In heavenly tones, pours out a who-knows-how,

And while it moves, all’s turned to melody now.

The pillared shafts, even the tri-glyph, ringing

I think that the whole temple’s singing.

The dark sinks down: from the light mist,

A handsome youth steps out in time to it.

I needn’t name him, so my task is finished,

Who doesn’t know the name of charming Paris!

A LADY

O! What a shining healthy powerful youth!

A SECOND

Like a peach, so fresh and full of juice!

A THIRD

The finely delineated, sweetly swelling lip!

A FOURTH

From such a cup you’d surely like to sip?

A FIFTH

He’s quite pretty, but a little unrefined.

A SIXTH

He could be a bit more graceful, to my mind.

A KNIGHT

I sense the shepherd here, I think,

No trace of Courtier or Prince.

ANOTHER

Yes! Half naked the youth’s quite handsome

We’d need to see him first with armour on!

A LADY

He sits down so gently and pleasantly.

A KNIGHT

You’d like to sit on his lap, comfortably?

ANOTHER

He lifts his arm so lightly above his head.

A CHAMBERLAIN

The lout! That’s not acceptable: how ill-bred!

A LADY

You lords find fault with everything.

THE CHAMBERLAIN

In the Emperor’s presence, all that stretching!

THE LADY

He’s posed there! He thinks he’s quite alone.

THE CHAMBERLAIN

Even a play should be polite in tone.

THE LADY

Now sleep has overcome the charming boy.

THE CHAMBERLAIN

And now he’ll snore: that’s natural, what joy!

A YOUNG LADY

What refreshes my heart so deeply, that fragrance

Mixed with fumes from the burning incense?

AN OLDER LADY

Truly! It’s breath penetrates one’s nature,

It comes from him!

AN ELDERLY LADY

It’s the sap of nurture,

It’s generated in youth, like ambrosia,

And spreads around in the atmosphere.

( Helen emerges ) .

MEPHISTOPHELES

So that’s her! I’d not lose sleep for that. She

Is quite pretty, true, but doesn’t do much for me.

THE ASTROLOGER

There’s nothing more now for me to do,

As men of honour confess, I confess it too.

Beauty comes: if only I’d a tongue of fire! –

Beauty so many songs has forever inspired –

Whom she appears to, of self he’s dispossessed,

Whom she belonged to, was too greatly blessed.

FAUST

Is this the fount of beauty? Have I still, eyes?

What pours here, through my mind, so richly?

My dreadful journey yields a blessed prize.

How void the world was, undeveloped for me!

What is it now since my priesthood?

Desirable, lasting, solid underfoot!

The power of my life’s breath should

Fail, if I’m ever again estranged from you! –

The perfect form that drew me before,

Delighting me, in the magic mirror,

Was only an airy phantom of such beauty! – You

Are the true embodiment of my passion:

Towards you is my powers’ whole direction

To you, love, feeling, faith, madness are owed.

MEPHISTOPHELES (From the prompter’s box.)

Calm yourself, now, and don’t fail in your role!

AN OLDER LADY

Tall, well formed, only the head is small.

A YOUNGER LADY

Just look! Could clumsier feet exist at all?

A DIPLOMAT

I’ve seen princesses of this kind: though

I think she’s beautiful, from head to toe.

A COURTIER

Soft and sly, she goes towards the sleeper.

A LADY

How ugly, near that form so young and pure.

A POET

From her Beauty shines towards him.

A LADY

A picture! Luna and Endymion!

THE POET

Quite so! The goddess seems to descend,

Leans above him to drink his breath, ah then:

Enviable! – A Kiss! – The cup’s full to excess.

A DUENNA

In front of everyone! What utter madness!

FAUST

A dreadful favour to grant a boy! –

MEPHISTOPHELES

Quiet now! Be still!

And let the spectre do what it will.

A COURTIER

She slips away, lightly: he awakes.

A LADY

Just as I thought! That glance she takes!

A COURTIER

He stares! It’s wonderful what’s happening.

A LADY

But not so wonderful what she sees in him.

A COURTIER

She turns towards him now with dignity.

A LADY

I see she’ll soon take him through his lesson:

At such times men behave quite stupidly,

Perhaps he even thinks that’s he the first one.

A KNIGHT

Let me be worthy! Majestically fine! –