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B00ARI2G5C EBOK

Page 29

by Goethe, J. W. von


  And there pursue his energetic pranks.

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  [He points to the right.]

  BUSTER [stepping forward].

  The man who shows his face to me, before

  He looks away I smash his cheeks and jaw;

  The man who turns his back, I make his brain-pan dangle

  Down from his neck at a queer angle.

  I’ll rage; just let your men keep pace,

  And strike with sword and battle-mace.

  By scores the enemy will fall,

  Their blood will drown and choke them all. [Exit.]

  THE COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF. Now let our centre quietly follow them

  And match the enemy’s strength and stratagem.

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  Already, on the right, our men have fought

  Back furiously, bringing their plans to nought.

  FAUST [pointing to his middle man].

  Then let this man follow your order too;

  He’ll quickly show them all what they must do.

  BAGGER [stepping forward].

  High valour in an army’s mind

  With lust for spoils should be combined.

  Let our whole purpose now be bent

  On the false emperor’s well-stocked tent.

  He’ll not sit long on that proud seat;

  I’ll lead the phalanx on to his defeat.

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  SNATCHER [a camp-follower, attaching herself to him].

  Though we’re not married, I confess,

  He’s my best sweetheart none the less.

  What a fine harvest’s now in store!

  Women are fearsome when they’re stealing,

  They loot and plunder without feeling.

  But victory’s ours; all’s fair in war! [Exeunt.]

  THE COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF. Their right wing now, predictably of course,

  Attacks our left with sudden desperate force;

  That narrow pass on the cliff side, it must

  Be held to the last man against their thrust.

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  FAUST [pointing to the left].

  Note this man too, sir; it will do no harm

  To strengthen your strong troops with his strong arm.

  HUGGER [stepping forward].

  The left wing’s safe; leave it to me!

  To have’s to keep, wherever I may be;

  Possession’s old, I make it last;

  No thunderbolt can split what I hold fast. [Exit.]

  MEPHISTOPHELES [descendingfrom uphill].

  Now from each gorge, from each ravine,

  Armed men emerge and fill the scene,

  Crowding the pathways in our rear;

  Behind our army they appear,

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  All armed and helmed, with sword and shield,

  Forming a wall that will not yield;

  They wait the signal to advance.

  [Aside, softly, to those in the know.]

  No doubt you’ll guess their provenance.

  I of course have not hesitated:

  A score of armouries I’ve evacuated.

  All round they stood, footmen and horse,

  Pretending still to be a ruling force.

  Kings, emperors, lordly knights they were,

  And now they’re empty snail-shells, nothing more.

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  Now phantoms dress up in them for a while,

  Giving new life to medieval style.

  It’s mere demonic animation,

  But quite a useful show on this occasion.

  [Aloud.]

  Hear how with bang and knock and rattle

  They anticipate the coming battle!

  And see, old standards fluttering! Those stale rags

  Longed for fresh air to fly again as flags.

  An ancient army stands again today,

  Eager to join new wars that come its way.

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  [A fearsome trumpet-call from above; signs of disarray in the enemy army.]

  FAUST. The horizon mingles with the dark,

  And only here and there a spark

  Flashes, a red and ominous light;

  With glint of blood the weapons flare.

  The rocks, the forest and the air,

  The very heavens compound this sight.

  MEPHISTOPHELES. The right flank holds, stoutly resisting;

  I see Jack Buster’s there, assisting

  Them in his way; he’s quick and tall,

  That monster, he outfights them all.

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  THE EMPEROR. Where there was one arm in that fray

  I now see twelve, all raised to slay;

  It seems unnatural to me.

  FAUST. Have you not heard of douds that drift

  Along the coast of Sicily?

  By day’s light, shimmering, they lift

  Into the middle air a high

  And wondrous vision, mirrored by

  Vapours of special quality.

  There cities flicker to and fro

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  And gardens rise up and sink low

  As through the air the pictures go.*

  THE EMPEROR. But look, how strange! On each tall spear

  I see a tip of light appear,

  And agile little flames that dance

  There on our phalanx, lance by lance.

  I do not like this spectral show.

  FAUST. By your leave, Sire, these are the traces

  Left by long-vanished spirit-races:

  The Heavenly Twins send this reflection.

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  All sailors once sought their protection;

  You see here their last fading glow.*

  THE EMPEROR. But who thus earns our thanks? Who made

  Nature herself come to our aid,

  Using her rarest powers so?

  MEPHISTOPHELES. Who but our Master,* whose high art

  Protects your destiny! His heart

  Stirs at the peril you are in;

  In gratitude he means to win

  Victory for you in these wars,

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  Or gladly perish for your cause.

  THE EMPEROR. The crowds cheered as I solemnly passed by;

  I thought: Now I am someone: let me try

  It out at once. And on an impulse: That

  Old greybeard’s in a hot spot; why not set

  Him free? And so I spoilt the clergy’s fun;

  They always bore a grudge for what I’d done.

  After so many years, am I indeed

  To reap the fruits of that light-hearted deed?

  FAUST. A generous gift richly repays the giver.

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  Look at the sky! An omen will appear,

  Sent by the Master; take good note,

  And soon its meaning will be clear.

  THE EMPEROR. I see an eagle in the heavens hover;

  A griffin comes in wild pursuit.

  FAUST. Mark well! This sign is favourable.

  A griffin is a beast of fable:

  What insolence to brave in fight

  The king of birds’ authentic right!

  THE EMPEROR. See, in wide circles now they soar

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  Around each other; all at once

  They swoop to the attack, they pounce

  To strike with beak, to rend with claw!

  FAUST. Look, the vile griffins proud endeavour

  Now brings it low: plucked, pulled to bits,

  It falls into the woods, with its

  Lion-tail drooping, lost for ever.

  THE EMPEROR. As you interpret it, so be it!

  I accept the omen, though amazed to see it.

  MEPHISTOPHELES [looking to the right].

  They fall back, our deadly foes,

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  Driven by a rain of blows!

  Now uncertainly they fight,

  Crowding over to their right;

  Their main force, by this intrusion

  On its le
ft, is in confusion.

  So our centre, thrusting hard

  To its right, now finds their guard

  Lowered; quick as lightning-flash

  There it strikes, and with a splash

  As of stormy waves, those powers

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  Rage as equals, theirs and ours.

  How magnificently done!

  Now this battle we have won!

  THE EMPEROR [on the left, to FAUST].

  Over there, it seems to me,

  Our men falter. I can’t see

  Rocks being thrown. They were to hold

  That high ground! The pass is sold!

  Look! The enemy outnumber

  Us by far, and now they clamber

  Up the cliff, and force their way

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  Nearerstill!—This fateful day,

  Crowns an impious campaign

  With success! Your arts are vain!

  [A pause.]

  MEPHISTOPHELES. Here come my ravens; they will tell

  Bad news. Things can’t be going well

  With us; I wonder what they’ve seen.

  THE EMPEROR. Why have those ugly birds come here?

  Like black-sailed ships to us they steer,

  Straight from the cliffside battle scene.

  MEPHISTOPHELES [to the ravens].

  Perch close, and croak into my ears.

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  Those you protect need have no fears;

  Good counsellors you have always been.

  FAUST [to THE EMPEROR].

  You will have heard of doves that fly

  From distant countries through the sky

  Home to their nests to brood and feed.

  These are indeed dissimilar:

  The pigeon-post serves peace, in war

  The raven-post makes better speed.

  MEPHISTOPHELES. Disaster threatens you: look there

  At our cliff-hanging heroes! Their

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  Position has grown perilous.

  The enemy has gained much height,

  And if they take the pass, things might

  Go very seriously with us.

  THE EMPEROR. So you have tricked me at the last!

  A dreadful net now holds me fast,

  And you enticed me into it.

  MEPHISTOPHELES. Courage! All’s not yet lost. With wit

  And patience we’ll still find a way;

  The darkest hour precedes the day.

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  My messengers are swift and true:

  Let me command your troops for you!

  THE COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF [approaching].

  Sire, these are allies of your choosing.

  I never liked it; now we’re losing

  The war, thanks to their jugglery.

  This battle’s broken, I can’t mend it;

  These two began it, let them end it.

  I hand back my authority.

  THE EMPEROR. No, keep your staff for better days;

  Our fortunes yet may change. I rather

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  Shrink from this creepy fellow and his ways;

  I don’t like his tame ravens either.

  [To MEPHISTOPHELES.]

  I can’t give you the staff; somehow

  You don’t seem quite the proper man.

  But take command, and save us if you can.

  I’ll let things take their own course now.

  [Exit into the tent with THE COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF.]

  MEPHISTOPHELES. Good luck to him with his stale old stick!

  That thing’s no use to us, my friend;

  It had a cross stuck on one end.

  FAUST. What must we do?

  MEPHISTOPHELES. It’s done!—Be quick

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  Now, my black servant-cousins, and take wing

  To the mountain lake: my greetings to its daughters,

  And I’d like an appearance of their waters.

  Those nymphs, by some arcane womanish wonder,

  Can make Being and Seeming come asunder,

  So that you’d swear the illusion’s the real thing.

  [A pause.]

  FAUST. Our ravens must have won the hearts

  Of the lake-ladies by their flattering arts;

  Look, there it comes, a trickling stream.

  In many a dry bare rocky place it gushes;

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  It grows and widens, swirls and rushes.

  Their victory’s become a dream.

  MEPHISTOPHELES. Their bold rock-climbers now are meeting

  A strange and disconcerting greeting.

  FAUST. Now torrents multiply in downward course,

  Disgorged from gorges with redoubled force;

  A stream becomes an arching waterfall,

  Then all at once, caught by the cliff’s wide ledge,

  It rushes foaming sideways, edge to edge,

  And drops cascading to the valley’s call.

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  The enemy bravely but vainly strives

  To stand upright, engulfed in monstrous waves;

  Even myself such dreadful floods appal.

  MEPHISTOPHELES. I can see nothing of these watery lies;

  They take effect only on human eyes.

  But I can relish this unnatural brawl:

  Hundreds of men in panic, running round

  With silly swimming motions on firm ground!

  Poor fools, they think they’re being drowned,

  Though they’re on dry land, snuffling safe and sound.

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  Confusion overwhelms them all.

  [The ravens have returned.]

  To our high Master I’ll speak well of you.

  Now, if you would yourselves be masters too,

  Then hasten to that glowing smithy where

  The dwarf-folk, toiling tirelessly,

  Strike sparks from stone and metal. There,

  Using the same persuasive flattery,

  Ask for a show of fire: a burst, a blaze,

  A scintillation, such as plays

  Within our Master’s mind. The distant flicker

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  Of the sheet-lightning, starlets falling quicker

  Than thought, are any night’s displays:

  But lightning shimmering through the tangled wood

  And stars that hiss across wet earth—these should

  Still have some power to amaze.

  Take no great pains then, but just ask, in fact

  Just give the dwarves my orders so to act.

  [The ravens fly off; the prescribed phenomena take place.]

  MEPHISTOPHELES. Dense darkness now engulfs the foe,

  They grope and stumble as they go;

  False fires beset them every way they turn,

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  Or sudden flashing lights that burn

  Their eyes out. Beautiful, indeed!

  Now a tremendous noise is all we need.

  FAUST. Those hollow warriors from dead armouries,

  The fresh air seems to strengthen them—I hear

  Them clanking, rattling loud and clear

  Up there: what strange discordant sound it is!

  MEPHISTOPHELES. Quite so! Now there’s no holding them; those knights

  Bang away, fighting ceremonious fights,

  As in the dear old times they used to do.

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  Now empty greaves and brassards clash

  Like Guelphs and Ghibellines, swift and rash

  Their ancient quarrel they renew.

  In the long-wonted ways set fast,

  They are implacable to the last;

  Their hubbub’s spreading far and wide.

  These devil’s feasts, say what you will,

  Thrive best on partisan hatred still;

  Fine horror-fare it can provide.

  Now hear it roar! The cliffs resound

  With hideous shrill satanic sound,

  And all in panic dread are bound.


  [Warlike tumult in the orchestra, finally giving way to triumphant martial music.]

  16.THE RIVAL EMPEROR’S TENT

  [A throne, rich furnishings. Enter BAGGER and SNATCHER.]

  SNATCHER. So here we are, the first to come.

  BAGGER. Faster than ravens flying home.

  SNATCHER. Ah, what a treasure-house we’re in!

  It’s endless: where shall we begin?

  BAGGER. The whole room’s full, it’s fit to burst;

  I just don’t know what to take first.

  SNATCHER. That rug would be the thing for me;

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  I often sleep so wretchedly.

  BAGGER. Here’s a steel morning star, a thing

  I’ve always longed to hold and swing.

  SNATCHER. A scarlet mantle hemmed with gold!

  This is a thing my dreams foretold.

  BAGGER. I like this weapon; one quick blow,

  Out come the brains, and on you go.

  Why are you packing all that stuff?

  There’s nothing there that’s good enough.

  Just leave the junk behind! Our best

  Plunder would be that treasure-chest.

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  Its belly holds the army’s pay

  In gold: let’s spirit that away.

  SNATCHER. But who’s to carry, who’s to lift?

  This weight the devil himself won’t shift!

  BAGGER. Bend down, be quick about it, stoop!

  Your back is strong, I’ll hoist it up.

  SNATCHER. Oh God, I’ve done it now, oh God,

  My back has cracked under the load!

  [The chest drops and bursts open.]

  BAGGER. There’s the red gold, spilt on the floor.

  Quick, pick it up, pick up some more!

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  SNATCHER [crouching down].

  Quick, pick it up yourself and fill

  My lap with it! We’ve plenty still.

  BAGGER. Enough now; hurry!

  [She stands up.]

  To hell with it!

  Your apron’s sprung a leak, it’s split!

  You’re wasting treasure, scattering, sowing

  It all behind you as you’re going.

  GUARDS [of our Emperor, entering].

  What are you doing here? Who are you?

  This is State property: how dare you!

  BAGGER. We risked our lives and limbs for you,

  We want our share of booty too.

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  An enemy tent’s fair game, by rules

  Of war; we’re soldiers and not fools.

  GUARDS. That’s not our way of thinking; we’re

  Soldiers, not thieving riff-raff here.

  Our Emperor’s served, we’d have you know,

  By honest men.

  BAGGER. Oh yes, quite so;

  Your honest trade we understand.

  It’s known as: living on the land.

  Soldiers are all in the same game:

  War contributions is its name.

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  [To SNATCHER.]

 

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