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Read Ebook: Faust — Part 1 by Goethe Johann Wolfgang Von
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Ebook has 1994 lines and 31103 words, and 40 pages
MEPHISTOPHELES
He serves thee truly in a wondrous fashion. Poor fool! His food and drink are not of earth. An inward impulse hurries him afar, Himself half conscious of his frenzied mood; From heaven claimeth he the fairest star, And from the earth craves every highest good, And all that's near, and all that's far, Fails to allay the tumult in his blood.
THE LORD
Though in perplexity he serves me now, I soon will lead him where more light appears; When buds the sapling, doth the gardener know That flowers and fruit will deck the coming years.
MEPHISTOPHELES
What wilt thou wager? Him thou yet shall lose, If leave to me thou wilt but give, Gently to lead him as I choose!
THE LORD
So long as he on earth doth 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 give, 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!
MEPHISTOPHELES
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, . 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, . Witches; old and young; 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
Ah! at this spectacle through every sense, What sudden ecstasy of joy is flowing! I feel new rapture, hallow'd and intense, Through every nerve and vein with ardour glowing. Was it a god who character'd this scroll, The tumult in my spirit healing, O'er my sad heart with rapture stealing, And by a mystic impulse, to my soul, The powers of nature all around revealing. Am I a God? What light intense! In these pure symbols do I see, Nature exert her vital energy. Now of the wise man's words I learn the sense;
"Unlock'd the spirit-world is lying, Thy sense is shut, thy heart is dead! Up scholar, lave, with zeal undying, Thine earthly breast in the morning-red!"
How all things live and work, and ever blending, Weave one vast whole from Being's ample range! How powers celestial, rising and descending, Their golden buckets ceaseless interchange! Their flight on rapture-breathing pinions winging, From heaven to earth their genial influence bringing, Through the wild sphere their chimes melodious ringing!
A wondrous show! but ah! a show alone! Where shall I grasp thee, infinite nature, where? Ye breasts, ye fountains of all life, whereon Hang heaven and earth, from which the withered heart For solace yearns, ye still impart Your sweet and fostering tides--where are ye--where? Ye gush, and must I languish in despair?
How all unlike the influence of this sign! Earth-spirit, thou to me art nigher, E'en now my strength is rising higher, E'en now I glow as with new wine; Courage I feel, abroad the world to dare,
The woe of earth, the bliss of earth to bear, With storms to wrestle, brave the lightning's glare, And mid the crashing shipwreck not despair.
Clouds gather over me-- The moon conceals her light-- The lamp is quench'd-- Vapours are rising-- Quiv'ring round my head Flash the red beams-- Down from the vaulted roof A shuddering horror floats, And seizes me! I feel it, spirit, prayer-compell'd, 'tis thou Art hovering near! Unveil thyself! Ha! How my heart is riven now! Each sense, with eager palpitation, Is strain'd to catch some new sensation! I feel my heart surrender'd unto thee! Thou must! Thou must! Though life should be the fee!
SPIRIT
Who calls me? FAUST Dreadful shape!
SPIRIT
With might, thou hast compelled me to appear, Long hast been sucking at my sphere, And now--
FAUST
Woe's me! I cannot bear the sight!
SPIRIT
To see me thou dost breathe thine invocation, My voice to hear, to gaze upon my brow; Me doth thy strong entreaty bow-- Lo! I am here I--What cowering agitation Grasps thee, the demigod! Where's now the soul's deep cry? Where is the breast, which in its depths a world conceiv'd And bore and cherished? which, with ecstasy, To rank itself with us, the spirits, heaved? Where art thou, Faust? whose voice I heard resound, Who towards me press'd with energy profound? Art thou he? Thou,--who by my breath art blighted, Who, in his spirit's depths affrighted, Trembles, a crush'd and writhing worm!
FAUST
Shall I yield, thing of flame, to thee? Faust, and thine equal, I am he!
SPIRIT
In the currents of life, in action's storm, I float and I wave With billowy motion! Birth and the grave A limitless ocean, A constant weaving With change still rife, A restless heaving, A glowing life-- Thus time's whirring loom unceasing I ply, And weave the life-garment of deity.
FAUST
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