Works of Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Page 213
Though in their mortal anguish men are dumb,
To me a God hath given to tell my grief.
[Antonio approaches him and takes his hand.
O noble man! thou standest firm and calm,
While I am like the tempest-driven wave.
But be not boastful of thy strength. Reflect!
Nature, whose mighty power hath fix’d the rock,
Gives to the wave its instability.
She sends her storm, the passive wave is driven,
And rolls, and swells, and falls in billowy foam.
Yet in this very wave the glorious sun
Mirrors his splendor, and the quiet stars
Upon its heaving bosom gently rest.
Dimm’d is the splendor, vanish’d is the calm!
In danger’s hour I know myself no longer,
Nor am I now asham’d of the confession.
The helm is broken, and on every side
The reeling vessel splits. The riven planks,
Bursting asunder, yawn beneath my feet!
Thus with my outstretch’d arms I cling to thee!
So doth the shipwreck’d mariner at last
Cling to the rock, whereon his vessel struck.
FAUST: PART ONE
Translated by Anna Swanwick and Illustrated by Abraham Hayward
Goethe’s Faust in two parts is the author’s most famous work and the tragedy is considered by many to be the greatest work in all of German literature. Goethe completed a preliminary version of Part One in 1806, which he published later in 1808. The tragedy concerns the traditional story of Doctor Faust, who makes a compact with the devil (Mephistopheles). Faust is the protagonist of a classic German legend; a highly successful scholar, but also dissatisfied with his life, and so makes a deal to exchange his soul for unlimited knowledge and worldly pleasures. Faust’s tale is the basis for many literary, artistic and musical works.
Goethe’s first part is structured as a sequence of scenes in a variety of settings. After a dedicatory poem and a prelude in the theatre, the plot opens with a prologue in Heaven, where the Lord challenges Mephistopheles, the Devil, that Mephistopheles cannot lead astray the Lord’s favourite striving scholar, Dr. Faust. Faust is presented in his study, attempting and failing to gain knowledge of nature and the universe by magic means. The depressed Faust contemplates suicide, but is held back by the sounds of Easter celebrations. He joins his assistant Wagner for a walk in the countryside, among the celebrating people, and is followed home by a poodle. Back in the study, the poodle transforms itself into Mephistopheles, who offers Faust an iniquitous contract for his soul.
Faust remains a resonant parable on scientific learning, religion, independence and love, in which Goethe places science and power in the context of a morally interested metaphysics, raising probing questions about the purpose of life altogether.
The first edition
CONTENTS
DRAMATIS PERSONÆ
DEDICATION
PROLOGUE FOR THE THEATRE
PROLOGUE IN HEAVEN
NIGHT
BEFORE THE GATE
STUDY
STUDY
AUERBACH’S CELLAR IN LEIPZIG
WITCHES’ KITCHEN
A STREET
EVENING. A SMALL AND NEAT ROOM
PROMENADE
THE NEIGHBOR’S HOUSE
A STREET
GARDEN
A SUMMER-HOUSE
FOREST AND CAVERN
MARGARET’S ROOM
MARTHA’S GARDEN
AT THE WELL
ZWINGER
NIGHT. STREET BEFORE MARGARET’S DOOR
CATHEDRAL
WALPURGIS-NIGHT
INTERMEZZO: WALPURGIS-NIGHT’S DREAM
A GLOOMY DAY. A PLAIN
NIGHT. OPEN COUNTRY
DUNGEON
An early etching of Faust by the Dutch artist Rembrandt
The 1994 Czech film adaptation
The 2011 Russian film adaptation
DRAMATIS PERSONÆ
Characters in the Prologue for the Theatre.
THE MANAGER. THE DRAMATIC POET. MERRYMAN.
Characters in the Prologue in Heaven.
THE LORD.
RAPHAEL}
GABRIEL} The Heavenly Host.
MICHAEL}
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Characters in the Tragedy.
FAUST.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
WAGNER, a Student.
MARGARET.
MARTHA, Margaret’s Neighbor.
VALENTINE, Margaret’s Brother.
OLD PEASANT.
A STUDENT.
ELIZABETH, an Acquaintance of Margaret’s.
FROSCH }
BRANDER } Guests in Auerbach’s Wine Cellar.
SIEBEL }
ALTMAYER }
Witches, old and young; Wizards, Will-o’-the-Wisp, Witch Peddler,
Protophantasmist, Servibilis, Monkeys, Spirits, Journeymen,
Country-folk, Citizens, Beggar, Old Fortune-teller, Shepherd, Soldier,
Students, etc.
In the Intermezzo.
OBERON. TITANIA. ARIEL. PUCK, ETC., ETC.
DEDICATION
Ye wavering shapes, again ye do enfold me,
As erst upon my troubled sight ye stole;
Shall I this time attempt to clasp, to hold ye?
Still for the fond illusion yearns my soul?
Ye press around! Come then, your captive hold me,
As upward from the vapory mist ye roll;
Within my breast youth’s throbbing pulse is bounding,
Fann’d by the magic breath your march surrounding.
Shades fondly loved appear, your train attending,
And visions fair of many a blissful day;
First-love and friendship their fond accents blending,
Like to some ancient, half-expiring lay;
Sorrow revives, her wail of anguish sending
Back o’er life’s devious labyrinthine way,
And names the dear ones, they whom Fate bereaving
Of life’s fair hours, left me behind them grieving.
They hear me not my later cadence singing,
The souls to whom my earlier lays I sang;
Dispersed the throng, their severed flight now winging;
Mute are the voices that responsive rang.
For stranger crowds the Orphean lyre now stringing,
E’en their applause is to my heart a pang;
Of old who listened to my song, glad hearted,
If yet they live, now wander widely parted.
A yearning long unfelt, each impulse swaying,
To yon calm spirit-realm uplifts my soul;
In faltering cadence, as when Zephyr playing,
Fans the Æolian harp, my numbers roll;
Tear follows tear, my steadfast heart obeying
The tender impulse, loses its control;
What I possess as from afar I see;
Those I have lost become realities to me.
PROLOGUE FOR THE THEATRE
MANAGER. DRAMATIC POET. MERRYMAN
MANAGER
Ye twain, in trouble and distress
True friends whom I so oft have found,
Say, for our scheme on German ground,
What prospect have we of success?
Fain would I please the public, win their thanks;
They live and let live, hence it is but meet.
The posts are now erected, and the planks,
And all look forward to a festal treat.
Their places taken, they, with eyebrows rais’d,
Sit patiently, and fain would be amaz’d.
I know the art to hit the public taste,
Yet ne’er of failure felt so keen a dread;
True, they are not accustomed to the best,
But then appalling the amount they’ve read.
How make our entertainment striking, new,
And
yet significant and pleasing too?
For to be plain, I love to see the throng,
As to our booth the living tide progresses;
As wave on wave successive rolls along,
And through heaven’s narrow portal forceful presses;
Still in broad daylight, ere the clock strikes four,
With blows their way toward the box they take;
And, as for bread in famine, at the baker’s door,
For tickets are content their necks to break.
Such various minds the bard alone can sway,
My friend, oh work this miracle today!
POET
Oh of the motley throng speak not before me,
At whose aspect the Spirit wings its flight!
Conceal the surging concourse, I implore thee,
Whose vortex draws us with resistless might.
No, to some peaceful heavenly nook restore me,
Where only for the bard blooms pure delight,
Where love and friendship yield their choicest blessing,
Our heart’s true bliss, with godlike hand caressing.
What in the spirit’s depths was there created,
What shyly there the lip shaped forth in sound;
A failure now, with words now fitly mated,
In the wild tumult of the hour is drown’d;
Full oft the poet’s thought for years hath waited
Until at length with perfect form ’tis crowned;
What dazzles, for the moment born, must perish;
What genuine is posterity will cherish.
MERRYMAN
This cant about posterity I hate;
About posterity were I to prate,
Who then the living would amuse? For they
Will have diversion, ay, and ’tis their due.
A sprightly fellow’s presence at your play,
Methinks should also count for something too;
Whose genial wit the audience still inspires,
Knows from their changeful mood no angry feeling;
A wider circle he desires,
To their heart’s depths more surely thus appealing.
To work, then! Give a master-piece, my friend;
Bring Fancy with her choral trains before us,
Sense, reason, feeling, passion, but attend!
Let folly also swell the tragic chorus.
MANAGER
In chief, of incident enough prepare!
A show they want, they come to gape and stare.
Spin for their eyes abundant occupation,
So that the multitude may wondering gaze,
You by sheer bulk have won your reputation,
The man you are all love to praise.
By mass alone can you subdue the masses,
Each then selects in time what suits his bent.
Bring much, you something bring for various classes,
And from the house goes every one content.
You give a piece, abroad in pieces send it!
’Tis a ragout — success must needs attend it;
’Tis easy to serve up, as easy to invent.
A finish’d whole what boots it to present!
Full soon the public will in pieces rend it.
POET
How mean such handicraft as this you cannot feel!
How it revolts the genuine artist’s mind!
The sorry trash in which these coxcombs deal,
Is here approved on principle, I find.
MANAGER
Such a reproof disturbs me not a whit!
Who on efficient work is bent,
Must choose the fittest instrument.
Consider! ’tis soft wood you have to split;
Think too for whom you write, I pray!
One comes to while an hour away;
One from the festive board, a sated guest;
Others, more dreaded than the rest,
From journal-reading hurry to the play.
As to a masquerade, with absent minds, they press,
Sheer curiosity their footsteps winging;
Ladies display their persons and their dress,
Actors unpaid their service bringing.
What dreams beguile you on your poet’s height?
What puts a full house in a merry mood?
More closely view your patrons of the night!
The half are cold, the half are rude.
One, the play over, craves a game of cards;
Another a wild night in wanton joy would spend.
Poor fools the muses’ fair regards
Why court for such a paltry end?
I tell you, give them more, still more, ’tis all I ask,
Thus you will ne’er stray widely from the goal;
Your audience seek to mystify, cajole; —
To satisfy them — that’s a harder task.
What ails thee? art enraptured or distressed?
POET
Depart! elsewhere another servant choose.
What! shall the bard his godlike power abuse?
Man’s loftiest right, kind nature’s high bequest,
For your mean purpose basely sport away?
Whence comes his mastery o’er the human breast,
Whence o’er the elements his sway,
But from the harmony that, gushing from his soul,
Draws back into his heart the wondrous whole?
With careless hand when round her spindle, Nature
Winds the interminable thread of life;
When ‘mid the clash of Being every creature
Mingles in harsh inextricable strife;
Who deals their course unvaried till it falleth,
In rhythmic flow to music’s measur’d tone?
Each solitary note whose genius calleth,
To swell the mighty choir in unison?
Who in the raging storm sees passion low’ring?
Or flush of earnest thought in evening’s glow?
Who every blossom in sweet spring-time flowering
Along the loved one’s path would strow?
Who, Nature’s green familiar leaves entwining,
Wreathes glory’s garland, won on every field?
Makes sure Olympus, heavenly powers combining?
Man’s mighty spirit, in the bard reveal’d!
MERRYMAN
Come then, employ your lofty inspiration,
And carry on the poet’s avocation,
Just as we carry on a love affair.
Two meet by chance, are pleased, they linger there,
Insensibly are link’d, they scarce know how;
Fortune seems now propitious, adverse now,
Then come alternate rapture and despair;
And ’tis a true romance ere one’s aware.
Just such a drama let us now compose.
Plunge boldly into life-its, depths disclose!
Each lives it, not to many is it known,
‘Twill interest wheresoever seiz’d and shown;
Bright pictures, but obscure their meaning:
A ray of truth through error gleaming,
Thus you the best elixir brew,
To charm mankind, and edify them too.
Then youth’s fair blossoms crowd to view your play,
And wait as on an oracle; while they,
The tender souls, who love the melting mood,
Suck from your work their melancholy food;
Now this one, and now that, you deeply stir,
Each sees the working of his heart laid bare.
Their tears, their laughter, you command with ease,
The lofty still they honor, the illusive love.
Your finish’d gentlemen you ne’er can please;
A growing mind alone will grateful prove.
POET
Then give me back youth’s golden prime,
When my own spirit too was growing,
When from my heart th’ unbidden rhyme
Gush’d forth, a
fount for ever flowing;
Then shadowy mist the world conceal’d,
And every bud sweet promise made,
Of wonders yet to be reveal’d,
As through the vales, with blooms inlaid,
Culling a thousand flowers I stray’d.
Naught had I, yet a rich profusion!
The thirst for truth, joy in each fond illusion.
Give me unquell’d those impulses to prove; —
Rapture so deep, its ecstasy was pain,
The power of hate, the energy of love,
Give me, oh give me back my youth again!
MERRYMAN
Youth, my good friend, you certainly require
When foes in battle round are pressing,
When a fair maid, her heart on fire,
Hangs on your neck with fond caressing,
When from afar, the victor’s crown,
To reach the hard-won goal inciteth;
When from the whirling dance, to drown
Your sense, the nights carouse inviteth.
But the familiar chords among
Boldly to sweep, with graceful cunning,
While to its goal, the verse along
Its winding path is sweetly running;
This task is yours, old gentlemen, today;
Nor are you therefore less in reverence held;
Age does not make us childish, as folk say,
It finds us genuine children e’en in eld.
MANAGER
A truce to words, mere empty sound,
Let deeds at length appear, my friends!
While idle compliments you round,
You might achieve some useful ends.
Why talk of the poetic vein?
Who hesitates will never know it;
If bards ye are, as ye maintain,
Now let your inspiration show it.
To you is known what we require,
Strong drink to sip is our desire;
Come, brew me such without delay!
Tomorrow sees undone, what happens not today;
Still forward press, nor ever tire!
The possible, with steadfast trust,
Resolve should by the forelock grasp;
Then she will never let go her clasp,
And labors on, because she must.
On German boards, you’re well aware,
The taste of each may have full sway;
Therefore in bringing out your play,
Nor scenes nor mechanism spare!
Heaven’s lamps employ, the greatest and the least,
Be lavish of the stellar lights,
Water, and fire, and rocky heights,
Spare not at all, nor birds, nor beast.
Thus let creation’s ample sphere