B00ARI2G5C EBOK

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by Goethe, J. W. von


  This sum secured and covered in full measure

  By Imperial land’s abundant buried treasure;

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  The same to serve as its equivalent

  Upon recovery, as is Our intent.’

  THE EMPEROR. My lords, this is some fraud, some vast deceit!

  Who dared to sign my name in counterfeit?

  Has no one yet been punished for this crime?

  THE TREASURER. You wrote it, Sire, yourself; at Carnival time,

  Last night! You were Great Pan, you will recall;

  The Chancellor approached, as did we all,

  Beseeching you: ‘A few strokes of your pen

  Will crown the feast and mend the realm again!’

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  You signed: and thanks to prestidigitation

  The night sufficed for ample duplication.

  And in this general boon, to ensure fair play,

  We printed the whole series straight away:

  Tens, thirties, fifties, hundreds—all are ready.

  See how the people all rejoice already!

  This town, half mouldy-dead of late, now thriving,

  Swarming with life, its appetites reviving!

  Your name has blessed the world for many a year,

  But never was so gladly read as here.

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  The remaining alphabet grows valueless,

  For in this sign all now find happiness.

  THE EMPEROR. My people think it’s gold? Well now, that’s funny.

  The court, the army, treat this as sound money?

  Astonishing. But now what can I do?

  THE STEWARD. No one could catch them, and away they flew;

  It spread like lightning. Now on every side

  The money-changers’ doors are open wide;

  They’re honouring every note, both small and large,

  With gold and silver, though of course they charge

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  Commission. Butchers, bakers, landlords—good

  Money for them! Half the world just wants food

  And drink, the rest want fine new clothes to strut

  About in; tailors stitch, cloth-merchants cut;

  Meanwhile plates clatter, meats are stewed and roasted

  In taverns, and ‘The Emperor!’ is toasted.

  MEPHISTOPHELES. Walk then alone along the terraces:

  See, a fair lady all in fineries,

  Covering one eye with her proud peacock fan,

  Come-hithering with the other any man

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  Who bears this paper passport to her heart,

  Which outpersuades all wit and wooer’s art!

  No need to lug a purse around; the best

  Place for such billets is a lover’s breast,

  Among his billets doux. A priest may carry

  Them piously inside his breviary;

  As for the soldier, he’s a nimbler fighter,

  I dare say, if his money-belt is lighter.

  Forgive me, Majesty, if I trivialize

  By such examples our high enterprise.

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  FAUST. The abundance of treasure buried deep

  Under your lands lies frozen and asleep

  Until we waken it. Thought’s utmost scope

  Sets a mean limit to such wealth; the hope

  Of fancy in its highest flight must fail,

  Try as it may, to tell so rich a tale.

  Yet worthier spirits whom deep insights bless

  Place trust unbounded in this boundlessness.

  MEPHISTOPHELES. Such paper currency, replacing gold

  And pearls, is most convenient: you can hold

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  A known amount, no sale or bartering

  Is needed to enjoy love, wine, or anything

  You please. And there are banks to sell you coin;

  If not, then temporarily you join

  The diggers, sell a golden chain or cup,

  And thus the paper debt’s at once paid up

  And all the mocking sceptics put to shame.

  Everyone’s used to this, they want the same

  System continued; thus the Empire far and wide

  With jewels, gold, and paper now is well supplied.

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  THE EMPEROR. The Empire owes great benefits to you,

  And a commensurate reward is due.

  We entrust you with the ground in all our lands;

  To guard that wealth, yours are the worthiest hands.

  You know where we must dig, and at your word

  We shall recover this great hidden hoard.

  As partners now, joint masters of our treasure,

  Fulfil your honourable task with pleasure!

  For here two worlds to union are invited,

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  Upper with lower happily united.*

  THE TREASURER. Sire, there shall be no strife and no divisions;

  I like to have colleagues who are magicians.

  [Exit with FAUST.]

  THE EMPEROR. Now for some gifts; but you must each confess

  What use you intend to make of my largesse.

  A PAGE [receiving some money].

  I’ll have high life, song, dance and jollity.

  ANOTHER [likewise].

  I’ll go and buy my sweetheart jewellery.

  A LORD OF THE BEDCHAMBER [accepting gift].

  From now on I’ll drink wine at twice the price.

  ANOTHER [likewise].

  My fingers itch already for the dice!

  A KNIGHT-BANNERET [reflecting].

  I’ll pay the debts off now on my estates.

  ANOTHER [likewise].

  I’ll watch my fund as it accumulates.

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  THE EMPEROR. I hoped it would inspire you to new deeds.

  But it’s easy to guess your well-known needs;

  It’s obvious that however rich you grow,

  Whatever you have been you’ll still be so.

  THE FOOL [reappearing].

  Is this a bounty? Shall I get a bit?

  THE EMPEROR. So you’re back! You’ll just live by drinking it.

  THE FOOL. They’re magic papers! What do the words say?

  THE EMPEROR. You’ll misread and misuse them anyway.

  THE FOOL. There are some more that dropped—what shall I do?

  THE EMPEROR. Just take them, it’s a windfall, they’re for you. [Exit.]

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  THE FOOL. Five thousand crowns! You mean all this is mine?

  MEPHISTOPHELES. So you rose from the dead, you

  two-legged bag of wine?

  THE FOOL. I often do, but this time’s the best yet.

  MEPHISTOPHELES. You’re so pleased now, you’re breaking out in sweat.

  THE FOOL. But look, is this worth money?

  MEPHISTOPHELES. It will buy All your big maw and belly want; just try!

  THE FOOL. You mean a house, livestock and farming land?

  MEPHISTOPHELES. Of course! Just offer, they will understand.

  THE FOOL. A castle, hunting forests, fishing streams?

  MEPHISTOPHELES. Ill soon address you as ‘my lord’, it seems.

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  THE FOOL. Oh luxury! Ill be a squire this very night! [Exit.]

  MEPHISTOPHELES. Call him a wise fool now, and you’ll be right!

  5.A DARK GALLERY

  [FAUST. MEPHISTOPHELES.]

  MEPHISTOPHELES. These gloomy passages! Why do you drag me here?

  Was all that high society

  Not fun enough? There’s plenty of good cheer

  Still to enjoy, and much fine trickery!

  FAUST. No need to speak of it; in the old days

  You played that game a hundred tedious ways.

  Now stop your slithering to and fro

  And tell me what I need to know.

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  They’re pestering me now for action:

  The Steward, the Chamberlain want satisfaction.
<
br />   The Emperor demands to see

  Helen and Paris, here, immediately;

  The ideal man and woman, to appear

  Before his eyes, in figures plain and clear.

  So get to work! I mustn’t break my word.

  MEPHISTOPHELES. You promised that? How frivolous, how absurd!

  FAUST. Let me inform you that your pranks

  Have consequences, my good friend.

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  We made him rich and earned his thanks,

  And now he must be entertained.

  MEPHISTOPHELES. You think this task’s a simple one;

  But it’s a steeper stair to climb,

  A stranger region than you’ve ever known,

  Which by your new commitments you now dare

  To tread, conjuring Helen out of time

  Like phantom paper-money from the air.

  Easy, you think?—Witches I can supply,

  Ghost-goblins, changelings, curious succubi;

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  But Satan-sweethearts, though quite charming in their way,

  Can’t pass for Homer’s heroines even today.

  FAUST. So, here we go again, your old lament!

  With you there’s never any guarantee;

  Nothing gets done without an extra fee,

  Everything is a problem you invent.

  She’ll come at once, as I know very well!

  Two mumbled words from you will summon her.

  MEPHISTOPHELES. Pagans are not my period, sir;

  They’re lodged in their own special hell.

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  But there’s a way.

  FAUST. Divulge it instantly!

  MEPHISTOPHELES. I do not like to; this is high mystery.

  Enthroned in solitude are goddesses—

  No place, no space around them, time still less;

  I mention them with some uneasiness.

  They are the Mothers*

  FAUST [startled]. Mothers!

  MEPHISTOPHELES. You dread the name?

  FAUST. The Mothers! But how strange ‘the mothers’ sounds!

  MEPHISTOPHELES. Indeed; we hesitate ourselves to speak

  Of these great goddesses, and your mortal minds

  Have never known them. Go to the depths to seek

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  Their dwelling! If we need them, you’re to blame.

  FAUST. Which is the way?

  MEPHISTOPHELES. NO way! A path untrodden

  Which none may tread; a way to the forbidden,

  The unmoved, the inexorable. Make preparation!

  There’ll be no locks to unlock, no bolts to slide:

  On solitudes you will drift far and wide.

  Do you know solitude and desolation?

  FAUST. If these are your wise saws, you might as well

  Not speak. They’ve a witch-kitchen smell;

  This is all stuff from long ago.

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  The world was with me, was it not? And there

  I learnt and taught nothing but empty air.

  If ever I talked sense, told what I know,

  They’d shout me down still louder; finally,

  Embracing desert solitude to flee

  From the vile tricks society played on me,

  Rather than have no company at all

  I invoked the Devil, as you will recall.

  MEPHISTOPHELES. Yet even if you’d swum the ocean through

  And known its boundlessness, even then

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  You would see waves roll by and roll again;

  Even at the dreadful drowning-point, there too

  You would see something. In the still sea-green

  There would be darting dolphins to be seen;

  There’d be the clouds, sun, moon and starry sky—

  But in the eternal void you’ll say goodbye

  To sight, not hear the step that steps so far,

  Not rest a foot on where you are.

  FAUST. You talk like any ancient mystagogue

  Addressing neophytes with words to fog

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  Their simple minds; but here per contra. I

  Am sent into your void to magnify

  My art and strength there; I am to cat’s-paw

  Your chestnuts from the fire. Come then! let’s claw

  The meaning out of this. I hope to see

  Your Nothing turn to Everything for me.

  MEPHISTOPHELES. My compliments, sir, as you take your leave;

  You know the Devil well, I do believe.

  Now take this key.

  FAUST. That little thing!

  MEPHISTOPHELES. First seize

  It firmly, and respect it, if you please.

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  FAUST. It grows in my hand! It shines, it’s all a-glitter!

  MEPHISTOPHELES. Perhaps you now appreciate it better.

  Follow it downwards, for this key can read

  The hidden map: to the Mothers it will lead.

  FAUST [shtiddering].

  The Mothers! Every time it strikes such fear

  Into my heart, this word I dare not hear.

  MEPHISTOPHELES. Are you so limited, that a new word

  Disturbs you, merely one you’ve not yet heard?

  Let nothing trouble you in sound or sense:

  By now you should be used to strange events.

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  FAUST. Yet must I turn to stone? Not so 111 thrive!

  Our sense of awe’s what keeps us most alive.

  The world chokes human feeling more and more,

  But deep dread still can move us to the core.

  MEPHISTOPHELES. Descend then! I could say ascend; there’s no

  Distinction. Flee from all that has been born

  To the unbound realm of empty shapes; return

  To savour, what has vanished long ago.

  Like drifting coils of cloud they will approach you:

  Brandish the key, for then they cannot touch you.

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  FAUST [with enthusiasm].

  I seize it, and at once my spirits rise,

  I feel new strength for this great enterprise.

  MEPHISTOPHELES. A glowing tripod will alert your fall

  That it has reached the deepest depth of all.

  And by that tripod’s light you’ll see the Mothers;

  Some sitting, as the case may be, and others

  Who stand or walk. Formation, transformation,

  The eternal Mind’s eternal delectation.

  You’ll pass unseen: the whole world of creatures swarms

  As images round them; they see empty forms

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  And nothing else. But you will be in great

  Peril still, and you must be bold: go straight

  To the tripod, touch it with the key.

  [FAUST strikes a decisive commanding attitude with the key.]

  MEPHISTOPHELES [watching him]. Just so!

  Then, slave-like, it will follow where you go;

  Good fortune’s wings will raise you, never fear!

  Before they miss it, you’ll be back up here.

  And once you’ve got that brazier, then you may

  Summon the famous pair into the day.

  No one has ever dared before to do

  This deed, and it will be achieved by you.

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  The incense-cloud, with magic to compel it,

  Will assume any godlike shape you tell it.

  FAUST. Well then, what now?

  MEPHISTOPHELES. Strive downwards; stamp, and you

  Will sink; you’ll rise again by stamping too.

  [FAUST stamps and disappears into the earth.]

  I hope he’s well protected by that key.

  Will he get back, I wonder? We shall see.

  6.BRIGHTLY LIT HALLS

  [THE EMPEROR With PRINCES and COURTIERS, walking to and fro.]

  THE CHAMBERLAIN [to MEPHISTOPHELES].

  You still owe us that spirit scene;
you’re late

  With it. The Emperor doesn’t like to wait.

  THE MARSHAL. He’s just been asking us when it’s to be.

  Delay’s an insult to His Majesty.

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  MEPHISTOPHELES. My colleague’s gone to see to it; he knows how

  It must be done, he’s working on that now,

  With silent labour and peculiar skill.

  This occult task’s not easy to fulfil.

  Beauty’s like buried treasure: where it lies

  Is known by art and magic to the wise.*

  THE MARSHAL. What arts you use is your affair; just hurry!

  The Emperor wants to see the show start, that’s our worry.

  A BLONDE GIRL [to MEPHISTOPHELES]. A word with you, sir! My complexion’s clear,

  But every summer horrid spots appear—

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  Hundreds of them, red-brown; it’s such a pest,

  Covering my white skin! Can you suggest

  A remedy?

  MEPHISTOPHELES. For shame! A bright young thing,

  Marked like a panther-kitten every spring!

  Take frogspawn, toads’ tongues, mix, distil them well

  In the full moonlight to complete the spell;

  Wait till the moon wanes, then apply with care,

  And when May comes, the spots will not be there.

  A DARK GIRL. Look how these flatterers mob you, sir! I, beg

  A remedy too. It’s for my foot, my leg:

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  It’s frozen! I can’t move it properly,

  To walk or dance or curtsey.

  MEPHISTOPHELES. Allow me

  To give your foot a footprint of mine too.

  THE DARK GIRL.

  Well, that’s a thing that courting couples do.

  MEPHISTOPHELES. My foot, child, has a more important function.

  All ills are cured by like to like’s conjunction;

  Thus, foot heals foot, and so with other parts.

  Come now, keep steady! Don’t reciprocate!

  THE DARK GIRL [shrieking].

  Oh! Oh! You stamped so hard on me! It hurts!

  That was a horse’s hoof!

  MEPHISTOPHELES. At any rate,

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  My dear, you’re cured. From now on you’ll be able

  To dance, and play foot-footsie games at table.

  A LADY [struggling to reach him].

  Let me through! Let me through! I’m in such anguish;

  Deep in my heart I boil and burn and languish.

  I was his sweetheart only yesterday:

  Now he walks out with her, tells me to go away!

  MEPHISTOPHELES. That’s a problem; but now do as I say.

  Take this charcoal: steal up close to your man

  And mark him with it where you can —

  His sleeve, his cloak, his shoulder—and at once

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  He’ll feel a prick of loving penitence;

 

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