Faust: A Tragedy
With your permission, we will make so free,
As to intrude upon your company.
The host's poor wines may keep us in sobriety,
But we at least enjoy your good society.
Altmayer.
Our wine is good; and, for to speak the truth,
Your mother fed you with too nice a tooth.
Frosch.
When left you Rippach? you must have been pressed
For time. Supped you with Squire Hans by the way?[*n7]
Mephistopheles.
We had no time to stay!
But when I last came by, I was his guest.
He spoke much of his cousins, and he sent
To you and all full many a compliment.
[_He makes a bow to_ /Frosch/.
Altmayer. [_softly_]
You have him there!--he understands the jest!
Siebel.
He is a knowing one!
Frosch.
I'll sift him through anon!
Mephistopheles.
As we came in, a concert struck my ear
Of skilful voices in a chorus pealing!
A gleesome song must sound most nobly here,
Re-echoed freely from the vaulted ceiling.
Frosch.
Perhaps you have yourself some skill?
Mephistopheles.
O no! had I the power, I should not want the will.
Altmayer.
Give us a song!
Mephistopheles.
A thousand, willingly!
Siebel.
Only brand-new, I say!--no thread-bare strain!
Mephistopheles.
We are but just come from a tour in Spain,
The lovely land of wine and melody.
[_He sings._] There was a king in old times
That had a huge big flea--
Frosch.
Ha, ha! a flea!--he seems a man of taste!
A flea, I wis, is a most dainty guest?
Mephistopheles. [_sings again_]
There was a king in old times
That had a huge big flea,
As if it were his own son,
He loved it mightily.
He sent out for the tailor,
To get it a suit of clothes;
He made my lord a dress-coat,
He made him a pair of hose.
Brander.
Be sure that Monsieur le Tailleur be told
To take his measure most exact and nice,
And as upon his head he puts a price,
To make the hose without or crease or fold!
Mephistopheles.
In velvet and in silk clad
He strutted proudly then,
And showed his star and garter
With titled gentlemen.
Prime minister they made him,
With cross and ribbon gay,
And then all his relations
At court had much to say.
This caused no small vexation
At court; I tell you true--
The queen and all her ladies
Were bitten black and blue.
And yet they durst not catch them,
Nor crack them, when they might,
But we are free to catch them,
And crack them when they bite.
Chorus. [_shouting_]
But we are free to catch them
And crack them when they bite!
Frosch.
Bravo, bravo!--his voice is quite divine.
Siebel.
Such fate may every flea befall!
Brander.
Point your nails and crack 'em all!
Altmayer.
A glass to liberty!--long live the vine!
Mephistopheles.
I'd drink to liberty with right good will,
If we had only better wine to drink.
Siebel.
You might have kept that to yourself, I think!
Mephistopheles.
I only fear our host might take it ill,
Else should I give to every honored guest
From our own cellar of the very best.
Siebel.
O never fear!--If you but find the wine,
Our host shall be content--the risk be mine!
Frosch.
Give me a flowing glass, and praise you shall not want,
So that your sample, mark me! be not scant;
I cannot judge of wine, unless I fill
My mouth and throat too with a goodly swill.
Altmayer. [_softly_]
I see the gentlemen are from the Rhine.
Mephistopheles.
Give me a gimlet here!--I'll show you wine.
Brander.
What would the fellow bore?
Has he then wine-casks at the door?
Altmayer.
There, in the basket, you will find a store
Of tools, which our good landlord sometimes uses.
Mephistopheles. [_Taking the gimlet._]
[_To_ /Frosch/.] Now every man may taste of what he chooses.
Frosch.
How mean you that? Can you afford?
Mephistopheles.
No fear of that; my cellar is well stored.
Altmayer. [_to_ /Frosch/]
Aha! I see you smack your lips already.
Frosch.
I'll have Rhine wine; what fatherland produces
Is better far than French or Spanish juices.
Mephistopheles. [_boring a hole in the edge of the table where
/Frosch/ is sitting_]
Fetch me some wax, to make the stoppers ready.
Altmayer.
He means to put us off with jugglery.
Mephistopheles. [_to_ /Brander/]
And you, sir, what?
Brander.
Champagne for me!
And brisk and foaming let it be!
[/Mephistopheles/ _bores; meanwhile one of the party has got
the stoppers ready, and closes the holes._
Brander.
To foreign climes a man must sometimes roam,
In quest of things he cannot find at home;
For Frenchmen Germans have no strong affection,
But to their wines we seldom make objection.
Siebel. [_while_ /Mephistopheles/ _is coming round to him_]
I have no taste for your sour wines to-day,
I wish to have a swig of good Tokay.
Mephistopheles. [_boring_]
That you shall have, and of the very best.
Altmayer.
No, gentlemen!--'tis plain you mean to jest;
If so, in me you much mistake your man.
Mephistopheles.
Ha! ha!--no little risk, methinks, I ran,
To venture tricks with noble guests like you.
Come! make your choice, speak boldly out, and I
Will do my best your wish to gratify.
Altmayer.
Give me what wine you please!--only not much ado.
[_After having bored and stopped up all the holes._
Mephistopheles. [_with strange gestures_]
Grapes on the vine grow!
Horns on the goat!
The wine is juicy, the vine is of wood,
The wooden table can give it as good.
Look into Nature's depths with me!
Whoso hath faith shall wonders see!
Now draw the corks, and quaff the wine!
All. [_drawing the corks, and quaffing the out-streaming liquor each
as he had desired_]
O blessed stream!--O fount divine!
Mephistopheles.
Drink on! only be cautious in your hurry.
[_They drink freely._
All. [_singing_]
No king of cannibals to day
More bravely rules the drinking bout,
Than we, when, like five hundred swine,
We drain the brimming bumpers out!
Mephistopheles. [_to_ /Faust/]
Look at the fellows now!--are they not merry?
Faust.
I feel inclined to go!--'tis getting late.
Mephistopheles.
Soon shall we have a glorious revelation
Of the pure beast in man, if you but wait.
Siebel. [_drinks carelessly; the wine falls to the ground and becomes
flame_]
Help! fire! the devil's here! death and damnation!
Mephistopheles. [_Addressing himself to the flames_]
Peace, friendly element! be still!
[_To the company._] This time 'twas but a spurt of purgatorial flame.
Siebel.
What's that?--you little know your men; we'll tame
Your impudence, you juggling knave, we will!
Frosch.
'Twere dangerous to repeat such gambols here!
Altmayer.
Methinks 'twere best to whisper in his ear
That he had better leave the room.
Siebel.
What, sirrah? do you then presume
To play your hocus-pocus here?
Mephistopheles.
Peace, old wine-cask!
Siebel.
You broomstick, you!
Must we then bear your insolence too?
Brander.
Wait! wait! it shall rain blows anon!
Altmayer. [_draws a stopper from the table, and fire rushes
out on him_]
I burn! I burn!
Siebel.
There's witchcraft in his face!
The fellow's an outlaw! strike him down!
[_They draw their knives and attack_ /Mephistopheles/.
Mephistopheles. [_with serious mien_]
False be eye, and false be ear!
Change the sense, and change the place!
Now be there, and now be here!
[_They look as thunderstruck, and stare at one another._
Altmayer.
Where am I? in what lovely land?
Frosch.
Vineyards! can it be so?
Siebel.
And grapes too quite at hand!
Brander.
And here beneath this shady tree,
This noble vine, these blushing clusters see!
[_He seizes_ /Siebel/ _by the nose. The rest seize one another in the
same manner, and lift up their knives._
Mephistopheles. [_as above_]
Let Error now their eyes unclose,
The devil's joke to understand!
[_He vanishes with_ /Faust/. _The fellows start back from one another._
Siebel.
What's the matter?
Altmayer.
How now?
Frosch.
Was that your nose?
Brander. [_to_ /Siebel/]
And yours is in my hand!
Altmayer.
It was a stroke shot through my every limb!
Give me a chair!--I faint! My eyes grow dim!
Frosch.
Now tell me only what has been the matter?
Siebel.
Where is the fellow? Could I catch him here,
His life out of his body I should batter!
Altmayer.
I saw him just this instant disappear,
Riding upon a wine-cask--I declare
I feel a weight like lead about my feet.
[_Turning to the table._]
I wonder if his d----d wine still be there!
Siebel.
There's not a single drop; 'twas all a cheat.
Frosch.
And yet methinks that I was drinking wine.
Brander.
And I could swear I saw a clustered vine.
Altmayer.
Let none now say the age of miracles is past!
Scene III.
_Witches' Kitchen._
_A caldron is seen boiling on a low hearth. Numbers of strange
fantastic figures tumbling up and down in the smoke. A
Mother_-/Cat-Ape/[*n8] _sits beside the caldron, taking off the
scum, and keeping it from boiling over. An Old_ /Cat-Ape/ _beside
her warming himself with his young ones. Roof and walls are covered
over with a strange assortment of furniture, and implements used by
witches._
_Enter_ /Faust/ _and_ /Mephistopheles./
Faust.
I cannot brook this brainless bedlam stuff!
And must it be that I shall cast my slough
In this hotbed of all unreasoned doing?
Shall an old beldam give me what I lack?
And can her pots and pans, with all their brewing,
Shake off full thirty summers from my back?
Woe's me, if thou canst boast no better scheme!
My brightest hopes are vanished as a dream.
Has Nature then, and has some noble Spirit,
No balsam for the body to repair it?
Mephistopheles.
My friend, with your great sense I cannot but be smitten!
Nature, too, boasts a plan to renovate your age;
But in a wondrous volume it is written,
And wondrous is the chapter and the page.
Faust.
But I must know it.
Mephistopheles.
Good! the poorest man may try it,
Without or witch, or quack, or gold to buy it;
And yet it works a certain cure.
Go take thee with the peasant to the moor,
And straight begin to hew and hack;
Confine thee there, with patient mood,
Within the narrow beaten track,
And nourish thee with simplest food;
Live with the brute a brute, and count it not too low
To dung the corn-fields thine own hands shall mow;
Than this I know on earth no med'cine stronger,
To make, by fourscore years, both soul and body younger!
Faust.
I was not trained to this--was never made
To labor with the pick-axe and the spade;
Such narrow round of life I may not brook.
Mephistopheles.
Then you must look into another book,
And be content to take the witch for cook.
Faust.
But why this self-same ugly Jezebel?
Could you not brew the drink yourself as well?
Mephistopheles.
A precious pastime that indeed! meanwhile
I had built bridges many a German mile.
Not art, and science strict, are here enough,