MEPHISTOPHELES. Ugh! why do you remind me of those gory
Wars between slaves and tyrants? That old story,
How stale it is! Their battle is begun
All over again as soon as it is done;
They never guess they merely are the dupes
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Of Asmodeus* who really rules the troops.
They call it fighting for their liberty:
Slaves against slaves in fact, it seems to me.
THE HOMUNCULUS.
Just let them squabble; men will never mend.
Each one asserts himself as best he can
From boyhood on, and so becomes a man.
The question here is how to cure our friend.
If you’ve a remedy, then try it now;
If not, leave it to me to find out how.
MEPHISTOPHELES. My Blocksberg* magic might be what he’d need
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But pagan rules forbid me to proceed.
The Greeks were never much good anyway!
But you are charmed by their free sensuous play,
They lure mankind to many a sinful blessing;
The sins we sell are gloomy and depressing.
And so, what now?
THE HOMUNCULUS. But you do like some sport,
I think; Thessalian witches* are the sort
Of thing that might appeal to you.
MEPHISTOPHELES [lustfully].
Thessalian witches! If I’ve heard aright,
They’re persons well worth meeting, that is true;
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Not for concubinage night after night,
I hardly think that that would do.
But for a visit, for a try—
THE HOMUNCULUS. We need
Your cloak! And wrap it round our gentleman!
This cloth will bear you, as you know it can,
And carry both of you with speed;
I’ll light the way ahead.
WAGNER [anxiously]. And I?
THE HOMUNCULUS. Why, you
Must stay at home: you have great things to do.
Study old manuscripts, learn from their lore
How to collect life’s elements together
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And carefully compose them each to other;
Consider what, consider how still more.
I meanwhile, travelling the world about,
Shall light on some essential point, no doubt.
Then our great work will have achieved its end:
Such striving merits such reward, my friend!
Gold, honour, fame, health and longevity;
Service to science, virtue too—maybe!
Farewell!
WAGNER [sadly].
Farewell! This parting’s pain
And grief; I fear we’ll never meet again.
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MEPHISTOPHELES. So, off to Greece then! Judging by your arts,
Cousin, you are a mannikin of parts.
[Ad spectatores.]
Just fancy that! One does depend
On one’s own creatures * in the end.
10.CLASSICAL WALPURGIS NIGHT*
10a - THE PHARSALIAN PLAIN. Darkness]
ERICHTHO* NOW as the dreadful ceremony of this night begins
I, dark Erichtho, make attendance yet again;
Less loathsome than the poets tiresomely have claimed
In hyperbolic slander… For they never cease
Praising and carping… Now already right across
The plain I seem to see grey tents, a pallid flood:
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A second sight this night of grief and horror leaves.
How often its self-repetition I have seen,
Its never-to-end recurrence! Neither side accepts
The other’s rule; for none concedes a realm once seized
By force, and governed so. A man who cannot reign
Over his inner self, lusts fiercely to control
His neighbour’s will, imposing what his pride dictates…
But here a great example by this fight was made:
Of how a mighty power confronts one mightier still,
Rending the full flowered garland of sweet liberty
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And pleating iron laurels round the conqueror’s brow.
Here Pompey* dreamed of early greatness blossoming,
There Caesar* watched and heard the flickering scale of fate.
They will do battle now. The world knows who prevailed.
Watch-fires are glowing: as they scatter their red flames,
Out of the ground the long-spilt blood’s reflection breathes,
And as the night’s strange radiance works its spell on them,
They come, the assembling legion of Hellenic lore.
Round all the fires uncertainly they hover or
Commodiously they sit, those ancient fabled shapes…
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The moon, still not yet at its full, shines brilliantly,
And as it rises, sheds its gentle light afarg
The tent-mirage has disappeared, the fires burn blue.
But overhead, what unexpected meteor’s this?
The globe it shines from and upon is bodily.
I can smell life. It is not fitting that I should
Approach a living thing, to which I must bring harm;
An ill repute attends such inexpediency.
Now it is landing. Prudently I will withdraw!
[She moves away. The aeronauts appear overhead.]
THE HOMUNCULUS. Take another flight around
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This great burning gruesome plain;
Such a ghostly killing-ground
You’ll not often see again.
MEPHISTOPHELES. In my northern wastes I used to,
Watch the denizens of hell;
Ghastly ghosts are what I’m used to,
Here I’m quite at home as well.
THE HOMUNCULUS. Some tall figure there is striding,
Hurrying from us through the night.
MEPHISTOPHELES. Through the air she saw us riding;
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Doubdess she has taken fright.
THE HOMUNCULUS. Let her go! Now put your seeming
Dead man down here: he’ll revive
Instandy, for he must thrive
In this myth-land of his dreaming.
FAUST [as he touches the ground].
Where is she?—
THE HOMUNCULUS. There we’re in some doubt,
But here you’ll probably find out.
Explore these flames: you’ve time to go
On a quick tour, till dawn appears.
One who has ventured down below,
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To the Mothers, need have no more fears.
MEPHISTOPHELES. I too have business here; but I suggest,
For all our sakes, it would be best
If each seeks out by his own whim,
From fire to fire, whatever pleases him.
And when we need to meet again,
My little friend, shine out and sing out then!
THE HOMUNCULUS.
You’ll see a flash, you’ll hear a sound like this.*
[The glass hums and flashes powerfully.]
Now off to our new mysteries! [Exeunt]
FAUST [alone].
Where is she!—But why ask! I should have known
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The soil her feet have trod, the sea
That lapped against them; even enough for me
This very air whose language was her own!
Here, by a miracle, here I am in Greece!
At once I sensed the ground; what could release
Me from my sleep but this fresh spirit’s glow!
And thus I stand: Antaeus was strengthened so.
What wonders here in one place concentrate!
This fiery labyrinth I will investigate.
[He moves away.]
MEPHISTOPHELES [sniffing around].
> I must say that the creatures in this place
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Among these bonfires, make me feel quite lost:
Nearly all naked, some half-clad at most.
Unblushing sphinxes, griffins a disgrace,
And all the rest with their long hair and wings—
Whichever way I turn I see the things!…
Though we’re no strangers to indecency,
In the ancient world life runs too high for me;
We should control it with our new ideas
And various modern, fashionable veneers…
A beastly tribe! But I must do my best
To greet them decently, as a new guest.
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Greetings, my gracious ladies, wise old greyfins!*
A GRIFFIN [snarling gutterally].
Griffins, not greyfins! No one likes to hear
His grey hairs mentioned. Words connote
Their origins, these words stick in one’s throat:
Grey, grievous, grumpy, gruesome, graveyard, grim—
Etymologically they agree,
And disagree with us.
MEPHISTOPHELES. Yet, all the same, Griffin’s akin to gripping, a fine name!
THE GRIFFIN [snarling simüarly, and so throughout]. Of course! It’s a well-tried affinity;
We are much blamed, praised more than equally.
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A griffin grips or grabs; girls, crowns, or gold—
Good fortune favours those who take good hold.
ANTS [the colossal species].
You mentioned gold: we’d gathered a whole hoard,
In rocky caves we had it stuffed and stored:
The Arimaspians, that sly thieving race,
Boast now how they sniffed out its hiding-place.
THE GRIFFINS. Well soon make them confess.
THE ARIMASPIANS. But not tonight!
Tonight we’re free, it’s carnival!
(By morning we’ll have spent it all;
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This time we’ve done the job all right).
MEPHISTOPHELES [who has sat down between THESPHINXES].
How easy it is to acclimatize
Oneself here! All your speech makes sense.
THE SPHINXES.* We breathe our spirit-utterance,
Which your ears then corporealize.
We’d like to know your name now, if we may.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
I am called many names; legion, they say.
The British, now—they’re a much-travelled nation,
They seek out battlefields and waterfalls,
Musty old classic sites and ruined walls;
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Have some come here? A worthy destination!—
They’d recognize me from their mystery plays:
My name was Old Iniquity’ in those days.
THE SPHINX. Why should they call you that?
MEPHISTOPHELES. I can’t think why.
THE SPHINX. Well… Do you know about the starry sky?
How do you think the planets stand tonight?
MEPHISTOPHELES [looking up].
Star shoots to star, the quartered moon shines bright.
This is a pleasant place; I’ve seldom felt
So snug as here against your lion pelt.
Why wander up to heaven? It’s absurd.
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Let’s play at riddles; come, think of a word.*
THE SPHINX. Think of yourself, if you want mystery.
Resolve your own parts by deep cogitation:
“Virtue and vice both need him: he must be
A fencer’s dummy for the ascetic’s lunge,
A boon companion to the wastrel’s plunge,
And both merely for Zeus’s delectation.’
FIRST GRIFFIN [snarling].
No, I don’t like him.
SECOND GRIFFIN [snarling still louder].
No, he’s odious.
BOTH. Doesn’t belong. What does he want with us?
MEPHISTOPHELES [fiercely].
Perhaps you think this stranger’s nails can tear
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Less well than your sharp claws? Try, if you dare!
A SPHINX [amiably].
If you feel so inclined, by all means stay;
You’ll soon leave by your own choice anyway.
At home, no doubt, you flourish; but in these
Surroundings, I would guess, you’re ill at ease.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
From the waist up you’re an attractive sight;
The bestial bottom half, that’s the real fright.
THE SPHINX. Deceiver, we shall punish that impiety;
Our paws are healthy. As for your
Deformed and shrivelled hoof, no wonder you’re
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Uncomfortable in our society.
[SIRENS* perched on trees, strike up a prelude.]
MEPHISTOPHELES. Who are those birds cradled among
The branches by this poplared stream?
A SPHINX. Beware! Great heroes that sing-song
Has lulled into a fatal dream.
THE SIRENS. How perversely you are clinging,
To these dark grotesqueries!
See us gathering in the trees,
Hear how sweet our harmonies,
As befits the Sirens’ singing!
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THE SPHINXES [mockingly imitating their melody]. First compel them to the ground!
Though they hide them in the branches,
They have claws like birds of prey
That will tear your heart away
If you listen to that sound.
THE SIRENS. Let all envious strife be banned!
Joys are scattered bright and clear
On the earth: unite them here!
Now on water and on land
Let us with our happiest
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Gesture greet this welcome guest.
MEPHISTOPHELES. SO that is music nowadays!
A scrape of strings, a well-tuned throat,
All intertwining note with note;
A pointless tra-la-la! It plays
A tickle-tinkle on my ear,
But leaves my heart untouched, I fear.
THE SPHINXES. Your heart, forsooth! What empty brag
Is this? A dried-up leather bag
Would be the appropriate organ here.
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FAUST [entering].
How wonderful! I relish this great sight;
Repellent, yet imposing. Am I right,
And does this solemn scene portend for me
Some unknown favourable destiny?
[Referring to THE SPHINXES.]
Before such beings did not Oedipus once stand?
[Referring to THE SIRENS.]
Ulysses before these writhed in his hempen band.
[Referring to THE ANTS.]
By these much golden treasure was collected,
[Referring to THE GRIFFINS.]
And by these guardians faithfully protected.
Now a refreshing spirit moves me: how
Great are these forms, how great these memories now!
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MEPHISTOPHELES. You’d once have cursed these creatures, I must say;
Now you’re in need of them, it seems.
When lovers seek the object of their dreams,
They welcome even monsters on the way.
FAUST [to THE SPHINXES].
You who are women, you must tell me true:
Has Helena been seen by one of you?
THE SPHINXES. We’re not her period: long before her birth
Hercules slew the last Sphinx left on earth.
Ask Chiron:* on this ghostly night
He’s galloping around—perhaps he might
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Consent to stop, then he will put you right.
THE SIRENS. We wish you success as well!
Ulysses? He did not spurn
Our gre
en shore, but stayed to learn
Many a tale he would retell.
Come with us, to where the wide
Sea-waves roll, and we shall hide
Nothing that you long to hear!
A SPHINX. Scorn, noble stranger, these false hopes.
As Ulysses was bound by ropes,
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By our good counsels now be bound:
Great Chiron’s words, when you have found
Him, they will satisfy your ear.
[Exit FAUST.]
MEPHISTOPHELES [in annoyance].
What’s this now, croaking, winging past?
They can’t be seen, they move so fast,
All of them following beak to tail.
Here even a huntsman’s skill would fail.
A SPHINX. Like winter storms that scour the sky
The Stymphalids come rushing by;
Hercules’ arrows they outfly.
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They have hawks’ beaks, they have goose-feet.
With well-meant croak they try to greet
Their cousins—for we count as such;
They seem to want to keep in touch.
MEPHISTOPHELES [nervously].
There’s something else, I hear it hissing.
A SPHINX. The heads of the Lernaean Snake—
You needn’t be alarmed, the rump is missing,
Though they still think they’re on the make.
But tell us, why this agitation?
What, sir, is now your destination?
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What’s to become of you? Why don’t
You go?… You crane your neck—you want
To join that chorus over there. Feel free
To do so! Greet that charming company,
The Lamiae—subde little tarts
With smiling mouths and shameless arts
Such as the satyrs like, designed
To please your lustful goat-foot kind.
MEPHISTOPHELES. But you will stay here? We shall meet again?
THE SPHINXES. Yes! By all means, mix with that airy throng.
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We are from Egypt, and our kind has long
Been used to its millennial reign.
And you must honour us: we calculate
The cycles of the sun, and the moon’s state.
Judges over nations, thus
By the pyramids we sit;
Wars, floods, peace—we watch it pass,
Never blink an eye at it.
10b - THE PENEUS.
The river-god is surrounded by tributary streams and nymphs]
PENEUS. Gently stir, you whispering rushes,
Reeds, my sisters, make a breeze!
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Rustle lightly, willow-bushes,
Lisp, you trembling poplar-trees,
To my interrupted dream!…
For a fearful tremor wakes me,
A mysterious motion shakes me
From my wandering slumber-stream.
FAUST [coming to the river’s edge]. Leaves and branches interwound,
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