What to thy throne now draweth near?
What from this place itself hath bann’d?
Emperor.
For this time thou thy words mayst spare!
This is no place for riddles, friend;
They are these gentlemen’s affair. —
Solve them! an ear I’ll gladly lend.
My old fool’s gone, far, far away, I fear;
Take thou his place, come, stand beside me here!
[Mephistophelesascends and places himself at the Emperor’sleft.
(Murmur of the Crowd.)
Here’s a new fool — for plague anew!
Whence cometh he? — How pass’d he through?
The old one fell — he squander’d hath. —
He was a tub — now ’tis a lath. —
Emperor.
So now, my friends, belov’d and leal,
Be welcome all, from near and far!
Ye meet ‘neath an auspicious star;
For us above are written joy and weal.
But tell me wherefore, on this day,
When we all care would cast away,
And don the masker’s quaint array,
And naught desire but to enjoy,
Should we with state affairs ourselves annoy?
But if ye think it so must be indeed,
Why, well and good, let us forthwith proceed!
Chancellor.
The highest virtue circles halo-wise
Our Cæsar’s brow; virtue, which from the throne,
He validly can exercise alone:
Justice! — What all men love and prize,
What all demand, desire, and sorely want,
It lies with him, this to the folk to grant.
But ah! what help can intellect command,
Goodness of heart, or willingness of hand,
When fever saps the state with deadly power,
And mischief breedeth mischief, hour by hour?
To him who downward from this height supreme
Views the wide realm, ’tis like a troubled dream,
Where the deform’d deformity o’ersways,
Where lawlessness, through law, the tyrant plays,
And error’s ample world itself displays.
One steals a woman, one a steer,
Lights from the altar, chalice, cross,
Boasts of his deed full many a year,
Unscath’d in body, without harm or loss.
Now to the hall accusers throng;
On cushion’d throne the judge presides;
Surging meanwhile in eddying tides,
Confusion waxes fierce and strong.
He may exult in crime and shame,
Who on accomplices depends;
Guilty! the verdict they proclaim,
When Innocence her cause defends.
So will the world succumb to ill,
And what is worthy perish quite;
How then may grow the sense which still
Instructs us to discern the right?
E’en the right-minded man, in time,
To briber and to flatterer yields;
The judge, who cannot punish crime,
Joins with the culprit whom he shields. —
I’ve painted black, yet fain had been
A veil to draw before the scene.
[Pause.
Measures must needs be taken; when
All injure or are injur’d, then
E’en Majesty becomes a prey.
Field-Marshal.
In these wild days what tumults reign!
Each smitten is and smites again;
Deaf to command, will none obey.
The burgher, safe behind his wall,
Within his rocky nest, the knight,
Against us have conspir’d, and all
Firmly to hold their own unite.
Impatient is the hireling now,
With vehemence he claims his due;
And did we owe him naught, I trow,
Off he would run, nor bid adieu.
Who thwarts what fondly all expect,
He hath disturb’d a hornet’s nest;
The empire which they should protect,
It lieth plunder’d and oppress’d.
Their furious rage may none restrain;
Already half the world’s undone;
Abroad there still are kings who reign —
None thinks ’tis his concern, not one.
Treasurer.
Who will depend upon allies!
For us their promis’d subsidies
Like conduit-water, will not flow.
Say, Sire, through your dominions vast
To whom hath now possession pass’d!
Some upstart, wheresoe’er we go,
Keeps house, and independent reigns;
We must look on, he holds his own;
So many rights away we’ve thrown,
That for ourselves no right remains.
On so-called parties in the state
There’s no reliance, now-a-days;
They may deal out or blame or praise,
Indifferent are love and hate.
The Ghibelline as well as Guelph
Retire, that they may live at ease!
Who helps his neighbor now? Himself
Each hath enough to do to please.
Barr’d are the golden gates; while each
Scrapes, snatches, gathers all within his reach —
Empty, meanwhile, our chest remains.
Steward.
What worry must I, also, bear!
Our aim each day is still to spare —
And more each day we need; my pains,
Daily renew’d, are never o’er.
The cooks lack nothing; — deer, wild-boar,
Stags, hares, fowls, turkeys, ducks and geese, —
Tribute in kind, sure payment, these
Come fairly in, and none complains.
But now at last wine fails; and if of yore
Up-piled upon the cellar-floor,
Cask rose on cask, a goodly store,
From the best slopes and vintage; now
The swilling of our lords, I trow,
Unceasing, drains the very lees.
E’en the Town-council must give out
Its liquor; — bowls and cups they seize,
And ‘neath the table lies the drunken rout.
Now must I pay, whate’er betides;
Me the Jew spares not; he provides
Anticipation-bonds which feed
Each year on that which must succeed;
The swine are never fatten’d now;
Pawn’d is the pillow or the bed,
And to the table comes fore-eaten bread.
Emperor.
(After some reflection to Mephistopheles.) Say, fool, another grievance knowest thou?
Mephis.
I, nowise. On this circling pomp to gaze,
On thee and thine! There can reliance fail
Where majesty resistless sways,
And ready power makes foemen quail?
Where loyal will, through reason strong,
And prowess, manifold, unite,
What could together join for wrong,
For darkness, where such stars give light?
(Murmur of the Crowd.)
He is a knave — he comprehends —
He lies — while lying serves his ends —
Full well I know — what lurks behind —
What next? — Some scheme is in the wind! —
Mephis.
Where is not something wanting here on earth?
Here this, — there that: of gold is here the dearth.
It cannot from the floor be scrap’d, ’tis true;
But what lies deepest wisdom brings to view.
In mountain-veins, walls underground,
Is gold, both coin’d and uncoin’d, to be found.
And if ye ask me, — bring it forth who can?
Spirit and nature-power of gifted man.
Chancellor.
Nature and spirit — Christians ne’er should hear
Such words, with peril fraught and fear.
These words doom atheists to the fire.
Nature is sin, spirit is devil; they,
Between them, doubt beget, their progeny,
Hermaphrodite, mis-shapen, dire.
Not so with us! Within our Cæsar’s land
Two orders have arisen, two alone,
Who worthily support his ancient throne:
Clergy and knights, who fearless stand,
Bulwarks ‘gainst every storm, and they
Take church and state, as their appropriate pay.
Through lawless men, the vulgar herd
To opposition have of late been stirr’d;
The heretics these are, the wizards, who
The city ruin and the country too.
With thy bold jests, to this high sphere,
Such miscreants wilt smuggle in;
Hearts reprobate to you are dear;
They to the fool are near of kin.
Mephis.
Herein your learned men I recognize!
What you touch not, miles distant from you lies;
What you grasp not, is naught in sooth to you;
What you count not, cannot you deem be true;
What you weigh not, that hath for you no weight;
What you coin not, you’re sure is counterfeit.
Emperor.
Therewith our needs are not one whit the less.
What meanest thou with this thy Lent address?
I’m tired of this eternal If and How.
’Tis gold we lack; so good, procure it thou!
Mephis.
I’ll furnish more, ay, more than all you ask.
Though light it seem, not easy is the task.
There lies the gold, but to procure it thence,
That is the art: who knoweth to commence?
Only consider, in those days of terror,
When human floods swamp’d land and folk together,
How every one, how great soe’er his fear,
All that he treasur’d most, hid there or here;
So was it ‘neath the mighty Roman’s sway,
So on till yesterday, ay, till to-day:
That all beneath the soil still buried lies —
The soil is Cæsar’s, his shall be the prize.
Treasurer.
Now for a fool he speaketh not amiss;
Our Cæsar’s ancient right, in sooth, was this.
Chancellor.
Satan for you spreads golden snares; ’tis clear,
Something not right or pious worketh here.
Steward.
To us at court if welcome gifts he bring,
A little wrong is no such serious thing.
Field-Marshal.
Shrewd is the fool, he bids what all desire;
The soldier, whence it comes, will not inquire.
Mephis.
You think yourselves, perchance, deceiv’d by me;
Ask the Astrologer! This man is he!
Circle round circle, hour and house, he knows. —
Then tell us how the heavenly aspect shows.
(Murmur of the Crowd.)
Two rascals — each to other known —
Phantast and fool — so near the throne —
The old old song, — now trite with age —
The fool still prompts — while speaks the sage.
Astrologer.
(Speaks, Mephistophelesprompts.) The sun himself is purest gold; for pay
And favor serves the herald, Mercury;
Dame Venus hath bewitch’d you from above,
Early and late, she looks on you with love;
Chaste Luna’s humor varies hour by hour;
Mars, though he strike not, threats you with his power;
And Jupiter is still the fairest star;
Saturn is great, small to the eye and far;
As metal him we slightly venerate,
Little in worth, though ponderous in weight.
Now when with Sol fair Luna doth unite,
Silver with gold, cheerful the world and bright!
Then easy ’tis to gain whate’er one seeks;
Parks, gardens, palaces, and rosy cheeks;
These things procures this highly learned man.
He can accomplish what none other can.
Emperor.
Double, methinks, his accents ring,
And yet they no conviction bring.
(Murmur.)
Of what avail! — a worn-out tale —
Calendery — and chemistry —
I the false word — full oft have heard —
And as of yore — we’re hoax’d once more.
Mephis.
The grand discovery they misprize,
As, in amaze, they stand around;
One prates of gnomes and sorceries,
Another of the sable hound.
What matters it, though witlings rail,
Though one his suit ‘gainst witchcraft press,
If his sole tingle none the less,
If his sure footing also fail?
Ye of all swaying Nature feel
The secret working, never-ending,
And, from her lowest depths up-tending,
E’en now her living trace doth steal.
If sudden cramps your limbs surprise,
If all uncanny seem the spot —
There dig and delve, but dally not!
There lies the fiddler, there the treasure lies!
(Murmur.)
Like lead it lies my foot about —
Cramp’d is my arm — ’tis only gout —
Twitchings I have in my great toe —
Down all my back strange pains I know —
Such indications make it clear
That sumless treasuries are here.
Emperor.
To work — the time for flight is past. —
Put to the test your frothy lies!
These treasures bring before our eyes!
Sceptre and sword aside I’ll cast,
And with these royal hands, indeed,
If thou lie not, to work proceed.
Thee, if thou lie, I’ll send to hell!
Mephis.
Thither to find the way I know full well! —
Yet can I not enough declare,
What wealth unown’d lies waiting everywhere:
The countryman, who ploughs the land,
Gold-crocks upturneth with the mould;
Nitre he seeks in lime-walls old,
And findeth, in his meagre hand,
Scar’d, yet rejoic’d, rouleaus of gold.
How many a vault upblown must be,
Into what clefts, what shafts, must he,
Who doth of hidden treasure know,
Descend, to reach the world below!
In cellars vast, impervious made,
Goblets of gold he sees display’d,
Dishes and plates, row after row;
There beakers, rich with rubies, stand;
And would he use them, close at hand
Well stor’d the ancient moisture lies;
Yet — would ye him who knoweth, trust? —
The staves long since have turned to dust,
A tartar cask their place supplies!
Not gold alone and jewels rare,
Essence of noblest wines are there,
In night and horror veiled. The wise
Unwearied here pursues his quest.
To search by day, that were a jest;
’Tis darkness that doth harbor mysteries.
Emperor.
What can the dark avail? Look thou to that!
If aught have worth, it cometh to the light.
Who can detect the rogue at dead of night?
Black are the cows, and gray is every cat.
These
pots of heavy gold, if they be there —
Come, drive thy plough, upturn them with thy share!
Mephis.
Take spade and hoe thyself; — dig on —
Great shalt thou be through peasant toil —
A herd of golden calves anon
Themselves shall tear from out the soil;
Then straight, with rapture newly born,
Thyself thou canst, thy sweetheart wilt adorn.
A sparkling gem, lustrous, of varied dye,
Beauty exalts as well as majesty.
Emperor.
To work, to work! How long wilt linger?
Mephis.
Sire,
Relax, I pray, such vehement desire!
First let us see the motley, joyous, show!
A mind distraught conducts not to the goal.
First must we calmness win through self-control,
Through things above deserve what lies below.
Who seeks for goodness must himself be good;
Who seeks for joy must moderate his blood;
Who wine desires, the luscious grape must press;
Who craveth miracles, more faith possess.
Emperor.
So be the interval in gladness spent!
Ash-Wednesday cometh, to our hearts’ content.
Meanwhile we’ll solemnize, whate’er befall,
More merrily the joyous Carnival.
[Trumpets. Exeunt.
Mephis.
That merit and success are link’d together,
This to your fools occurreth never;
Could they appropriate the wise man’s stone,
That, not the wise man, they would prize alone.
[A spacious Hall, with adjoining apartments, arranged and decorated for a masquerade.
Herald.
Think not we hold in Germany our revels;
Where dances reign of death, of fools and devils;
You doth a cheerful festival invite.
Our Cæsar, Romeward turning his campaign,
Hath — for his profit, and for your delight —
Cross’d the high Alps, and won a fair domain.
Before the sacred feet bow’d down,
His right to reign he first hath sought,
And when he went to fetch his crown,
For us the fool’s cap hath he brought.
Now all of us are born anew;
And every world-experienc’d man
Draws it in comfort over head and ears;
A fool beneath it, he appears,
And plays the sage as best he can.
I see them, how they form in groups,
Now they pair off, now wavering sever;
Choir now with choir together troops,
Within, without, unwearied ever!
The world remaineth as of yore,
With fooleries, ten thousand score,
The one great fool, for ever more!
Garden-Girls.
(Song, accompanied by mandolins.) That to us ye praise may render,
Deck’d are we in festive sort;
Girls of Florence, we the splendor
Works of Johann Wolfgang von Goethe Page 238