Faust [part 1]. Translated Into English in the Original Metres · Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
MEPHISTOPHELES
Thou’lt hear much more before we leave her. ’Tis all the same: the book I can repeat, Such time I’ve squandered o’er the history: A contradiction thus complete Is always for the wise, no less than fools, a mystery. The art is old and new, for verily All ages have been taught the matter,— By Three and One, and One and Three, Error instead of Truth to scatter. They prate and teach, and no one interferes; All from the fellowship of fools are shrinking. Man usually believes, if only words he hears, That also with them goes material for thinking! THE WITCH (_continues_) The lofty skill Of Science, still From all men deeply hidden! Who takes no thought, To him ’tis brought, ’Tis given unsought, unbidden! What nonsense she declaims before us! My head is nigh to split, I fear: It seems to me as if I hear A hundred thousand fools in chorus. O Sibyl excellent, enough of adjuration! But hither bring us thy potation, And quickly fill the beaker to the brim! This drink will bring my friend no injuries: He is a man of manifold degrees, And many draughts are known to him. (_The_ WITCH, _with many ceremonies, pours the drink into a cup; as_ FAUST _sets it to his lips, a light flame arises_.) Down with it quickly! Drain it off! ’Twill warm thy heart with new desire: Art with the Devil hand and glove, And wilt thou be afraid of fire?
(_The_ WITCH _breaks the circle_: FAUST _steps forth_.) And now, away! Thou dar’st not rest. And much good may the liquor do thee! MEPHISTOPHELES (_to the_ WITCH) Thy wish be on Walpurgis Night expressed; What boon I have, shall then be given unto thee. Here is a song, which, if you sometimes sing, You’ll find it of peculiar operation. MEPHISTOPHELES (_to_ FAUST) Come, walk at once! A rapid occupation Must start the needful perspiration, And through thy frame the liquor’s potence fling. The noble indolence I’ll teach thee then to treasure, And soon thou’lt be aware, with keenest thrills of pleasure, How Cupid stirs and leaps, on light and restless wing. One rapid glance within the mirror give me, How beautiful that woman-form! No, no! The paragon of all, believe me, Thou soon shalt see, alive and warm. _(Aside)_ Thou’lt find, this drink thy blood compelling, Each woman beautiful as Helen! FAUST MARGARET _(passing by)_ Fair lady, let it not offend you, That arm and escort I would lend you! I’m neither lady, neither fair, And home I can go without your care. [_She releases herself, and exit_. By Heaven, the girl is wondrous fair! Of all I’ve seen, beyond compare; So sweetly virtuous and pure, And yet a little pert, be sure! The lip so red, the cheek’s clear dawn, [Illustration:] I’ll not forget while the world rolls on! How she cast down her timid eyes, Deep in my heart imprinted lies: How short and sharp of speech was she, Why, ’twas a real ecstasy!
(MEPHISTOPHELES _enters_) Hear, of that girl I’d have possession! Which, then? The one who just went by. She, there? She’s coming from confession, Of every sin absolved; for I, Behind her chair, was listening nigh. So innocent is she, indeed, That to confess she had no need. I have no power o’er souls so green. And yet, she’s older than fourteen. How now! You’re talking like Jack Rake, Who every flower for himself would take, And fancies there are no favors more, Nor honors, save for him in store; Yet always doesn’t the thing succeed. Most Worthy Pedagogue, take heed! Let not a word of moral law be spoken! I claim, I tell thee, all my right; And if that image of delight Rest not within mine arms to-night, At midnight is our compact broken. But think, the chances of the case! I need, at least, a fortnight’s space, To find an opportune occasion. Had I but seven hours for all, I should not on the Devil call, But win her by my own persuasion. You almost like a Frenchman prate; Yet, pray, don’t take it as annoyance! Why, all at once, exhaust the joyance? Your bliss is by no means so great As if you’d use, to get control, All sorts of tender rigmarole, And knead and shape her to your thought, As in Italian tales ’tis taught.
Text from Project Gutenberg, public domain in the United States.