The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries, Volume 01

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ACT THE FIFTH

OPEN COUNTRY

WANDERER

Yes, 'tis they, their branches rearing,Hoary lindens, strong in age;—There I find them, reappearing,After my long pilgrimage!'Tis the very spot;—how gladlyYonder hut once more I see,By the billows raging madly,Cast ashore, which sheltered me!My old hosts, I fain would greet them,Helpful they, an honest pair;May I hope today to meet them?Even then they aged were.Worthy folk, in God believing!Shall I knock? or raise my voice?Hail to you if, guest receiving,In good deeds ye still rejoice!

BAUCIS (a very aged woman)

Stranger dear, beware of breakingMy dear husband's sweet repose!Strength for brief and feeble wakingLengthened sleep on age bestows.

WANDERER

Mother, say then, do I find thee,To receive my thanks once more,In my youth who didst so kindly,With thy spouse, my life restore?Baucis, to my lips half-dying,Art thou, who refreshment gave?[The husband steps forth.]Thou Philemon, strength who plying,Snatched my treasure from the wave?By your flames, so promptly kindled,By your bell's clear silver sound—That adventure, horror-mingled,Hath a happy issue found.Forward let me step, and gazingForth upon the boundless main,Kneel, and thankful prayers upraising,Ease of my full heart the strain!

[He walks forward upon the downs.]

PHILEMON (to BAUCIS)

Haste to spread the table, underThe green leafage of our trees.Let him run, struck dumb with wonder,Scarce he'll credit what he sees.

[He follows the wanderer. Standing beside him.]

Where the billows did maltreat you,Wave on wave in fury rolled,There a garden now doth greet you,Fair as Paradise of old.Grown more aged, as when stronger,I could render aid no more;And, as waned my strength, no longerRolled the sea upon the shore;Prudent lords, bold serfs directing,It with trench and dyke restrained;Ocean's rights no more respecting,Lords they were, where he had reigned.See, green meadows far extending;—Garden, village, woodland, plain.But return we, homeward wending,For the sun begins to wane.In the distance sails are gliding,Nightly they to port repair;Bird-like, in their nests confiding,For a haven waits them there.Far away mine eye discernethFirst the blue fringe of the main;Right and left, where'er it turneth,Spreads the thickly-peopled plain.

IN THE GARDEN

The three at table

BAUCIS (to the stranger)

Art thou dumb? No morsel raisingTo thy famished lips?

PHILEMON

 I trow,He of wonders so amazingFain would hear; inform him thou.

BAUCIS

There was wrought a wonder truly,Yet no rest it leaves to me;Naught in the affair was dulyDone, as honest things should be!

PHILEMON

Who as sinful can pronounce it?'Twas the emperor gave the shore;—Did the trumpet not announce itAs the herald passed our door?Footing firm they first have plantedNear these downs. Tents, huts, appeared;O'er the green, the eye, enchanted,Saw ere long a palace reared.

BAUCIS

Shovel, axe, no labor sparing,Vainly plied the men by day;Where the fires at night shone flaring,Stood a dam, in morning's ray.Still from human victims bleeding,Wailing sounds were nightly borne;Seaward sped the flames, receding;A canal appeared at morn!Godless is he, naught respecting;Covets he our grove, our cot;Though our neighbor, us subjecting,Him to serve will be our lot.

PHILEMON

Yet he bids, our claims adjusting,Homestead fair in his new land.

BAUCIS

Earth, from water saved, mistrusting,On thine own height take thy stand.

PHILEMON

Let us, to the chapel wending,Watch the sun's last rays subside;Let us ring, and prayerful bending,In our father's God confide!

PALACE

Spacious ornamental garden; broad, straight canal. FAUST in extreme old age, walking about, meditating.

LYNCEUS, THE WARDER (through a speaking trumpet)

The sun sinks down, the ships belatedRejoicing to the haven steer.A stately galley, deeply freighted,On the canal, now draweth near;Her chequer'd flag the breeze caressesThe masts unbending bear the sails:Thee now the grateful seaman blesses,Thee at this moment Fortune hails.

[The bell rings on the downs.]

FAUST (starting)

Accursed bell! Its clamor sending,Like spiteful shot it wounds mine ear!Before me lies my realm unending;Vexation dogs me in the rear;For I, these envious chimes still hearing,Must at my narrow bounds repine;The linden grove, brown but thence peering,The moldering church, these are not mine.Refreshment seek I, there repairing?Another's shadow chills my heart,A thorn, nor foot nor vision sparing,—O far from hence could I depart!

WARDER (as above)

How, wafted by the evening gales, Blithely the painted galley sails; On its swift course, how richly stored! Chest, coffer, sack, are heaped aboard. A splendid galley, richly and brilliantly laden with the produce of foreign climes.

MEPHISTOPHELES. THE THREE MIGHTY COMRADES

CHORUS

 Here do we land, Here are we now. Hail to our lord; Our patron, thou!

(They disembark. The goods are brought ashore.)

MEPHISTOPHELES

So have we proved our worth—contentIf we our patron's praises earn:With but two ships abroad we went,With twenty we to port return.By our rich lading all may seeThe great successes we have wrought.Free ocean makes the spirit free:There claims compunction ne'er a thought!A rapid grip there needs alone;A fish, a ship, on both we seize.Of three if we the lordship own,Straightway we hook a fourth with ease,Then is the fifth in sorry plight—Who hath the power, has still the right;The What is asked for, not the How.Else know I not the seaman's art:War, commerce, piracy, I trow,A trinity, we may not part.

THE THREE MIGHTY COMRADES

 No thank and hail; No hail and thank! As were our cargo Vile and rank! Disgust upon His face one sees The kingly wealth Doth him displease!

MEPHISTOPHELES

 Expect ye now No further pay; For ye your share Have ta'en away.

THE THREE MIGHTY COMRADES

 To pass the time, As was but fair; We all expect An equal share.

MEPHISTOPHELES

 First range in order, Hall on hall, These wares so costly, One and all! And when he steps The prize to view, And reckons all With judgment true, He'll be no niggard; As is meet, Feast after feast He'll give the fleet, The gay birds come with morning tide; Myself for them can best provide.

[The cargo is removed.]

MEPHISTOPHELES (to FAUST)

With gloomy look, with earnest browThy fortune high receivest thou.Thy lofty wisdom has been crowned;Their limits shore and sea have bound;Forth from the shore, in swift career,O'er the glad waves, thy vessels steer;Speak only from thy pride of place,Thine arm the whole world doth embrace.Here it began; on this spot stoodThe first rude cabin formed of wood;A little ditch was sunk of yoreWhere plashes now the busy oar.Thy lofty thought, thy people's hand,Have won the prize from sea and land.From here too—

FAUST

              That accursed here!It weighs upon me! Lend thine ear;—To thine experience I must tell,With thrust on thrust, what wounds my heart;To bear it is impossible—Nor can I, without shame, impart:The old folk there above must yield;Would that my seat those lindens were;Those few trees not mine own, that field,Possession of the world impair.There I, wide view o'er all to take,From bough to bough would scaffolds raise;Would, for the prospect, vistas makeOn all that I have done to gaze;To see at once before me broughtThe master-work of human thought,Where wisdom hath achieved the plan,And won broad dwelling-place for man.—Thus are we tortured;—in our weal,That which we lack, we sorely feel!The chime, the scent of linden-bloom,Surround me like a vaulted tomb.The will that nothing could withstand,Is broken here upon the sand:How from the vexing thought be safe?The bell is pealing, and I chafe!

MEPHISTOPHELES

Such spiteful chance, 'tis natural,Must thy existence fill with gall.Who doubts it! To each noble ear,This clanging odious must appear;This cursed ding-dong, booming loud,The cheerful evening-sky doth shroud,With each event of life it blends,From birth to burial it attends,Until this mortal life doth seem,Twixt ding and dong, a vanished dream!

FAUST

Resistance, stubborn selfishness,Can trouble lordliest success,Till, in deep angry pain one mustGrow tired at last of being first!

MEPHISTOPHELES

Why let thyself be troubled here?Is colonizing not thy sphere?

FAUST

Then go, to move them be thy care!Thou knowest well the homestead fair,I've chosen for the aged pair—

MEPHISTOPHELES

We'll bear them off, and on new groundSet them, ere one can look around.The violence outlived and past,Shall a fair home atone at last.[He whistles shrilly.]

THE THREE enter

MEPHISTOPHELES

Come! straight fulfil the lord's behest;The fleet tomorrow he will feast.

THE THREE

The old lord us did ill requite;A sumptuous feast is ours by right.

MEPHISTOPHELES (to the spectators)

What happ'd of old, here happens too:Still Naboth's vineyard meets the view.

(I Kings, xvi.)

DEEP NIGHT

LYNCEUS THE WARDER (on the watch-tower singing)

 Keen vision my birth-dower, I'm placed on this height, Still sworn to the watch-tower, The world's my delight. I gaze on the distant, I look on the near, On moon and on planet, On wood and the deer: The beauty eternal In all things I see; And pleased with myself All bring pleasure to me. Glad eyes, look around ye And gaze, for whate'er The sight they encounter, It still hath been fair!

(Pause)

Not alone for pleasure-takingAm I planted thus on high;What dire vision, horror-waking,From yon dark world scares mine eye!Fiery sparkles see I gleamingThrough the lindens' two-fold night;By the breezes fanned, their beamingGloweth now with fiercer light!Ah! the peaceful hut is burning;Stood its moss-grown walls for years;They for speedy help are yearning—And no rescue, none appears!Ah the aged folk, so kindly,Once so careful of the fire,Now, to smoke a prey, they blindlyPerish, oh misfortune dire!'Mid red flames, the vision dazing,Stands the moss-hut, black and bare;From the hell, so fiercely blazing,Could we save the honest pair!Lightning-like the fire advances,'Mid the foliage, 'mid the branches;Withered boughs,—they flicker, burning,Swiftly glow, then fall;—ah me!Must mine eyes, this woe discerning,Must they so far-sighted be!Down the lowly chapel crashes'Neath the branches' fall and weight;Winding now, the pointed flashesTo the summit climb elate.Roots and trunks the flames have blighted,Hollow, purple-red, they glow!

(Long pause. Song)

Gone, what once the eye delighted,With the ages long ago!

FAUST (on the balcony, toward the downs)

From above what plaintive whimper?Word and tone are here too late!Wails my warder; me, in spiritGrieves this deed precipitate!Though in ruin unexpectedCharred now lie the lindens old,Soon a height will be erected,Whence the boundless to behold.I the home shall see, enfoldingIn its walls, that ancient pair,Who, my gracious care beholding,Shall their lives end joyful there.

MEPHISTOPHELES and THE THREE (below)

Hither we come full speed. We craveYour pardon! Things have not gone right!Full many a knock and kick we gave,They opened not, in our despite;Then rattled we and kick'd the more,And prostrate lay the rotten door;We called aloud with threat severe,Yet sooth we found no listening ear.And as in such case still befalls,They heard not, would not hear our calls;Forthwith thy mandate we obeyed,And straight for thee a clearance made.The pair—their sufferings were light,Fainting they sank, and died of fright.A stranger, harbor'd there, made showOf force, full soon was he laid low;In the brief space of this wild fray,From coals, that strewn around us lay,The straw caught fire; 'tis blazing free,As funeral death-pyre for the three.

FAUST

To my commandments deaf were ye!Exchange I wished, not robbery.For this your wild and ruthless part;—I curse it! Share it and depart!

CHORUS

The ancient saw still rings today:Force with a willing mind obey;If boldly thou canst stand the test,Stake house, court, life, and all the rest!

[Exeunt.]

FAUST

The stars their glance and radiance veil;Smoulders the sinking fire, a galeFans it with moisture-laden wings,Vapor to me and smoke it brings.Rash mandate—rashly, too, obeyed!—What hither sweeps like spectral shade?

MIDNIGHT

Four gray women enter

FIRST

My name, it is Want.

SECOND

And mine, it is Blame.

THIRD

My name, it is Care.

FOURTH

Need, that is my name.

THREE (together)

The door is fast-bolted, we cannot get in;The owner is wealthy, we may not within.

WANT

There fade I to shadow.

BLAME

There cease I to be.

NEED

His visage the pampered still turneth from me.

CARE

Ye sisters, ye cannot, ye dare not go in;But Care through the key-hole an entrance may win.[CARE disappears.]

WANT

Sisters, gray sisters, away let us glide!

BLAME

I bind myself to thee, quite close to thy side.

NEED

And Need at your heels doth with yours blend her breath.34

THE THREE

Fast gather the clouds, they eclipse star on star.Behind there, behind, from afar, from afar,There comes he, our brother, there cometh he—Death.

FAUST (in the palace)

Four saw I come, but only three went hence.Of their discourse I could not catch the sense;There fell upon mine ear a sound like breath,Thereon a gloomy rhyme-word followed—Death;Hollow the sound, with spectral horror fraught!Not yet have I, in sooth, my freedom wrought;Could I my pathway but from magic free,And quite unlearn the spells of sorcery,Stood I, oh nature, man alone 'fore thee,Then were it worth the trouble man to be!Such was I once, ere I in darkness sought,And curses dire, through words with error fraught,Upon myself and on the world have brought;So teems the air with falsehood's juggling brood,That no one knows how them he may elude!If but one day shines clear, in reason's light—In spectral dream envelopes us the night;From the fresh fields, as homeward we advance—There croaks a bird: what croaks he? some mischance!Ensnared by superstition, soon and late;As sign and portent, it on us doth wait—By fear unmanned, we take our stand alone;The portal creaks, and no one enters,—none.

(Agitated)

Is some one here?

CARE

The question prompteth, yes!

FAUST

What art thou then?

CARE

Here, once for all, am I.

FAUST

Withdraw thyself!

CARE

My proper place is this.

FAUST (first angry, then appeased. Aside)

Take heed, and speak no word of sorcery.

CARE

 Though by outward ear unheard, By my moan the heart is stirred; And in ever-changeful guise, Cruel force I exercise; On the shore and on the sea, Comrade dire hath man in me Ever found, though never sought, Flattered, cursed, so have I wrought. Hast thou as yet Care never known?

FAUST

I have but hurried through the world, I own.I by the hair each pleasure seized;Relinquished what no longer pleased,That which escaped me I let go,I've craved, accomplished, and then craved again;Thus through my life I've storm'd—with might and main,Grandly, with power, at first; but now indeed,It goes more cautiously, with wiser heed.I know enough of earth, enough of men;The view beyond is barred from mortal ken;Fool, who would yonder peer with blinking eyes,And of his fellows dreams above the skies!Firm let him stand, the prospect round him scan,Not mute the world to the true-hearted manWhy need he wander through eternity?What he can grasp, that only knoweth he.So let him roam adown earth's fleeting day;If spirits haunt, let him pursue his way;In joy or torment ever onward stride,Though every moment still unsatisfied!

CARE

 To him whom I have made mine own All profitless the world hath grown: Eternal gloom around him lies; For him suns neither set nor rise; With outward senses perfect, whole, Dwell darknesses within his soul; Though wealth he owneth, ne'ertheless He nothing truly can possess. Weal, woe, become mere phantasy; He hungers 'mid satiety; Be it joy, or be it sorrow, He postpones it till the morrow; Of the future thinking ever, Prompt for present action never.

FAUST

Forbear! Thou shalt not come near me!I will not hear such folly. Hence!Avaunt! This evil litanyThe wisest even might bereave of sense.

CARE

 Shall he come or go? He ponders;— All resolve from him is taken; On the beaten path he wanders, Groping on, as if forsaken. Deeper still himself he loses, Everything his sight abuses, Both himself and others hating, Taking breath—and suffocating, Without life—yet scarcely dying, Not despairing—not relying. Rolling on without remission: Loathsome ought, and sad permission, Now deliverance, now vexation, Semi-sleep,—poor recreation, Nail him to his place and wear him, And at last for hell prepare him.

FAUST

Unblessèd spectres! Ye mankind have soTreated a thousand times, their thoughts deranging;E'en uneventful days to mar ye know,Into a tangled web of torment changing!'Tis hard, I know, from demons to get free,The mighty spirit-bond by force untying;Yet Care, I never will acknowledge thee,Thy strong in-creeping, potency defying.

CARE

 Feel it then now; as thou shalt find When with a curse from thee I've wended: Through their whole lives are mortals blind— So be thou, Faust, ere life be ended![She breathes on him.]

FAUST (blind)

Deeper and deeper night is round me sinking;Only within me shines a radiant light.I haste to realize, in act, my thinking;The master's word, that only giveth might.Up, vassals, from your couch! my project bold,Grandly completed, now let all behold!Seize ye your tools; your spades, your shovels ply;The work laid down, accomplish instantly!Strict rule, swift diligence,—these twainThe richest recompense obtain.Completion of the greatest work demandsOne guiding spirit for a thousand hands.

GREAT FORE-COURT OF THE PALACE

Torches

MEPHISTOPHELES (as overseer leading the way)

 This way! this way! Come on! come on! Le Lemures, loose of tether, Of tendon, sinew, and of bone, Half natures, patched together!

LEMURES (in chorus)

 At thy behest we're here at hand; Thy destined aim half guessing— It is that we a spacious land May win for our possessing. Sharp-pointed stakes we bring with speed, Long chains wherewith to measure. But we've forgotten why indeed To call us was thy pleasure.

MEPHISTOPHELES

No artist-toil we need today:Sufficeth your own measure here:At his full length the tallest let him lay!Ye others round him straight the turf uprear;As for our sires was done of yore,An oblong square delve ye once more.Out of the palace to the narrow home—So at the last the sorry end must come!

LEMURES (digging, with mocking gestures)

 In youth when I did live and love, Methought, it was very sweet! Where frolic rang and mirth was rife, Thither still sped my feet. Now with his crutch hath spiteful age Dealt me a blow full sore: I stumbled o'er a yawning grave, Why open stood the door!

FAUST (comes forth from the palace, groping his way by the door posts)

How doth the clang of spades delight my soul!For me my vassals toil, the whileEarth with itself they reconcile,The waves within their bounds control,And gird the sea with stedfast zone—

MEPHISTOPHELES (aside)

And yet for us dost work alone,While thou for dam and bulwark carest;Since thus for Neptune thou preparest,The water-fiend, a mighty fête;Before thee naught but ruin lies;The elements are our allies;Onward destruction strides elate.

FAUST

Inspector!

MEPHISTOPHELES

Here.

FAUST

              As many as you may,Bring crowds on crowds to labor here;Them by reward and rigor cheer;Persuade, entice, give ample pay!Each day be tidings brought me at what rateThe moat extends which here we excavate.

MEPHISTOPHELES (half aloud)

They speak, as if to me they gaveReport, not of a moat—but of a grave.*

FAUST

A marsh along the mountain chainInfecteth what's already won;Also the noisome pool to drain—My last, best triumph then were won:To many millions space I thus should give,Though not secure, yet free to toil and live;Green fields and fertile; men, with cattle blent,Upon the newest earth would dwell content,Settled forthwith upon the firm-based hill,Up-lifted by a valiant people's skill;Within, a land like Paradise; outside,E'en to the brink, roars the impetuous tide,And as it gnaws, striving to enter there,All haste, combined, the damage to repair.Yea, to this thought I cling, with virtue rife,Wisdom's last fruit, profoundly true:Freedom alone he earns as well as life,Who day by day must conquer them anew.So girt by danger, childhood bravely here,Youth, manhood, age, shall dwell from year to year;Such busy crowds I fain would see,Upon free soil stand with a people free;Then to the moment might I say;Linger awhile, so fair thou art!Nor can the traces of my earthly dayThrough ages from the world depart!In the presentiment of such high bliss,The highest moment I enjoy—'tis this.

(FAUST sinks back, the LEMURES lay hold of him and lay him upon the ground.)

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1

For lack of space, scientists and historians have been excluded.

2

The chief original sources for the life of Goethe are his own autobiographic writings, his letters, his diaries, and his conversations. Of the autobiographic writings the most important are (1) Poetry and Truth from my Life, which ends with the year 1775; (2) Italian Journey, covering the period from September, 1786, to June, 1788; (3) Campaign in France and Siege of Antwerp, dealing with episodes of the years 1792 and 1793; (4) Annals (Tag- und Jahreshefte), which are useful for his later years down to 1823. His letters, forty-nine volumes in all, and his diaries, thirteen volumes, are included in the great Weimar edition of Goethe's works. His conversations, so far as they were recorded, have been well edited by W. von Biedermann, ten volumes, Leipzig, 1889-1896.

3

This earlier version was long supposed to be lost, but in 1910 a copy of the original manuscript was discovered at Zürich and published. Its six books correspond very nearly to the first four of the final version.

4

Translator: Charles Wharton Stork.

5

Adapted from E.A. Bowring.

6

Translator: E.A. Bowring. (All poems in this section translated by E.A. Bowring, W.E. Aytoun and Theodore Martin appear by permission of Thomas Y. Crowell & Co.)

7

Translator: E.A. Bowring.

8

Adapted from E. A. Bowring.

9

Translator: E. A. Bowring.

10

Translator: E. A. Bowring.

11

Translator: E. A. Bowring.

12

Translator: E. A. Bowring.

13

Translator: E. A. Bowring.

14

Translator: E. A. Bowring.

15

Translator: E. A. Bowring.

16

Translator: E. A. Bowring.

17

W.E. Aytoun and Theodore Martin.

18

Translator: A.I. du P. Coleman.

19

Translators: W.E. Aytoun and Theodore Martin.

20

Translators: W. E. Aytoun and Theodore Martin.

21

The title of a lyric piece composed by Schiller in honor of the marriage of the hereditary prince of Weimar to the Princess Maria of Russia, and performed in 1804.