Faust Part 1 | Page 8

as I choose!
THE LORD
So long as he on earth cloth live, So long 'tis not forbidden thee. Man still must err, while he doth strive.
MEPHISTOPHELES
I thank you; for not willingly I traffic with the dead, and still aver That youth's plump blooming cheek I very much prefer. I'm not at home to corpses; 'tis my way, Like cats with captive mice to toy and play.
THE LORD
Enough! 'tis granted thee! Divert This mortal spirit from his primal source; Him, canst thou seize, thy power exert And lead him on thy downward course, Then stand abash'd, when thou perforce must own, A good man in his darkest aberration, Of the right path is conscious still.
MEPHISTOPHELES
'Tis done! Full soon thou'lt see my exultation; As for my bet no fears I entertain. And if my end I finally should gain, Excuse my triumphing with all my soul. Dust he shall eat, ay, and with relish take, As did my cOusin, the renowned snake.
THE LORD
Here too thou'rt free to act without control; I ne'er have cherished hate for such as thee. Of all the spirits who deny, The scoffer is least wearisome to me. Ever too prone is man activity to shirk, In unconditioned rest he fain would live; Hence this companion purposely I gives, Who stirs, excites, and must, as devil, work. But ye, the genuine sons of heaven, rejoice! In the full living beauty still rejoice! May that which works and lives, the ever-growing, In bonds of love enfold you, mercy-fraught, And Seeming's changeful forms, around you flowing, Do ye arrest, in ever-during thought! (Heaven closes, the Archangels disperse.)
MEPHISTOPHELES (alone)
The ancient one I like sometimes to see, And not to break with him am always civil; 'Tis courteous in so great a lord as he, To speak so kindly even to the devil.
THE TRAGEDY OF FAUST
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
Characters in the Prologue for the Theatre
THE MANAGER. THE DRAMATIC POET. MERRYMAN.
Characters in the Prologue in Heaven
THE LORD. RAPHAEL, GABRIEL, MICHAEL, (The Heavenly Host). MEPHISTOPHELES.
Characters in the Tragedy FAUST. MEPHISTOPHELES. WAGNER, a Student. MARGARET. MARTHA, Margaret's Neighbour. VALENTINE, Margaret's Brother. OLD PEASANT. A STUDENT. ELIZABETH, an Acquaintance of Margaret's. Faoscn, BRANDER, SIEBEL, ALTMAYER, (Guests in Auerbach's Wine Cellar). Witches; old and yonng; Wizards, Will-o'-the-Wisp, Witch Pedlar, Protophantasmist, Servibilis, Monkeys, Spirits, Journeymen, Country-folk, Citizens, Beggar, Old Fortune-teller, Shepherd, Soldier, Students, &c.
In the Intermezzo
OBERON. TITANIA. ARIEL. PUCK, &C, &C.


PART I
NIGHT
A high vaulted narrow Gothic chamber. FAUST, restless, seated at his desk.
FAUST
I HAVE, alas! Philosophy, Medicine, Jurisprudence too, And to my cost Theology, With ardent labour, studied through. And here I stand, with all my lore, Poor fool, no wiser than before. Magister, doctor styled, indeed, Already these ten years I lead, Up, down, across, and to and fro, My pupils by the nose,--and learn, That we in truth can nothing know! That in my heart like fire doth burn. 'Tis true I've more cunning than all your dull tribe, Magister and doctor, priest, parson, and scribe; Scruple or doubt comes not to enthrall me, Neither can devil nor hell now appal me-- Hence also my heart must all pleasure forego! I may not pretend, aught rightly to know, I may not pretend, through teaching, to find A means to improve or convert mankind. Then I have neither goods nor treasure, No worldly honour, rank, or pleasure; No dog in such fashion would longer live! Therefore myself to magic I give, In hope, through spirit-voice and might, Secrets now veiled to bring to light, That I no more, with aching brow, Need speak of what I nothing know; That I the force may recognise That binds creation's inmost energies; Her vital powers, her embryo seeds survey, And fling the trade in empty words away. O full-orb'd moon, did but thy rays Their last upon mine anguish gaze! Beside this desk, at dead of night, Oft have I watched to hail thy light: Then, pensive friend! o'er book and scroll, With soothing power, thy radiance stole! In thy dear light, ah, might I climb, Freely, some mountain height sublime, Round mountain caves with spirits ride, In thy mild haze o'er meadows glide, And, purged from knowledge-fumes, renew My spirit, in thy healing dew! Woe's me! still prison'd in the gloom Of this abhorr'd and musty room! Where heaven's dear light itself doth pass, But dimly through the painted glass! Hemmed in by book-heaps, piled around, Worm-eaten, hid 'neath dust and mould, Which to the high vault's topmost bound, A smoke-stained paper doth enfold; With boxes round thee piled, and glass, And many a useless instrument, With old ancestral lumber blent-- This is thy world! a world! alas! And dost thou ask why heaves thy heart, With tighten'd pressure in thy breast? Why the dull ache will not depart, By which thy life-pulse is oppress'd? Instead of nature's living sphere, Created for