MEPHISTOPHELES. We shall remember this; think well what you are doing.
FAUST. That is your right. This bet, which I may lose,
Is no bravado. I must be pursuing
My purpose: once I stand still, I shall be 1710
A slave—yours or no matter whose.
MEPHISTOPHELES. At the doctoral feast* I shall display
My willing servitude to you this very day.
One small request—I am sure you’ll understand;
It’s just in case—I’d like a line or two in your own hand.
FAUST. Poor pedant! Must it be in writing too?
Is a man’s plighted word a thing unknown to you?
My spoken word must rule my life’s whole course
For ever: is this not enough?
The world streams on with headlong force, 1720
And a promise arrests me. What strange stuff
Of dreams composes us! A pledge that binds
Is a thing rooted in our minds,
And we accept this. Happy is the man
Of pure and constant heart, who can
Regret no choice, no loss! But parchments signed and sealed
Are ghosts that haunt and daunt us; the word dies
Upon the very pen we wield,
And wax and leather tyrannize
Our lives. Well, devil, which is it to be: 1730
Bronze, marble, parchment, paper? Answer me:
What pen, what tool, what chisel shall I use?
The medium is yours to choose!
MEPHISTOPHELES. Come, come, sir, this excited flood
Of rhetoric’s quite out of place.
The merest scrap of paper meets the case.
And—for your signature, a drop of blood.
FAUST. If that is all you want, I’ll willingly go through
With such a farce to humour you.*
MEPHISTOPHELES. Blood is a juice with curious 1740
properties.
FAUST. But you need have no fear that I will break*
This bond. To strive with all my energies—
Just that is what I undertake.
I have been too puffed up with pride:
I see now I belong beside
Merely the likes of you. With scorn
That mighty Spirit spurned me, Nature’s door
Is closed, the thread of thought is torn,
Books sicken me, I’ll learn no more.
Now let us slake hot passions in 1750
The depths of sweet and sensual sin!
Make me your magics—I’ll not care to know
What lies behind their outward show.
Let us plunge into the rush of things,
Of time and all its happenings!
And then let pleasure and distress,
Disappointment and success,
Succeed each other as they will;
Man cannot act if he is standing still.
MEPHISTOPHELES. Nothing shall limit you; if you wish, 1760
sir,
To sample every possible delight,
To snatch your pleasures in full flight,
Then let it be as you prefer.
Enjoy them boldly, grasp at what you want!
FAUST. I tell you, the mere pleasure’s not the point!
To dizzying, painful joy I dedicate
Myself, to refreshing frustration, loving hate!
I’ve purged the lust for knowledge from my soul;
Now the full range of suffering it shall face,
And in my inner self I will embrace [FRA 1770
The experience allotted to the whole
Race of mankind; my mind shall grasp the heights
And depths, my heart know all their sorrows and delights.
Thus I’ll expand myself, and their self I shall be,
And perish in the end, like all humanity.
MEPHISTOPHELES. Oh, take my word for it, I who have chewed
For centuries on this stale food—
From birth to death a man may do his best,
But this old leavened lump he’ll not digest!
We do assure you, such totality 1780
Is only for a god; perpetual light
Is God’s alone, me and my kind
He has banished to darkness, and you’ll find
You men must live with day and night.
FAUST. Yet I swear I’ll achieve it!
MEPHISTOPHELES. Bravely said!
But there’s a problem, I’m afraid;
For time is short, and art is long.
Might I suggest you take along
With you some well-known poet? He will teach
You many things; his thoughts will reach 1790
Out far and wide, all sorts of virtues crown
Your noble head at his behest:
The courage of the lion,
The stag’s velocity,
The Italian’s fiery zest,
The north’s tenacity!
He’ll find out for you how to mingle guile
With magnanimity, and while
You’re still a young warm-blooded man,
How to fall in love by a prearranged plan. 1800
The result, I’m sure, would be well worth meeting;
“Mr Microcosm!” shall be my respectful greeting.
FAUST. What am I then, if it’s impossible
To win that crown of our humanity,
To be what all my senses ache to be?
MEPHISTOPHELES. You are just what you are. Do what you will;
Wear wigs, full-bottomed, each with a million locks,
Stand up yards high on stilts or actor’s socks—
You’re what you are, you’ll be the same man still.
FAUST. How uselessly I’ve laboured to collect 1810
The treasures of the human intellect,
And now I sit and wonder what I’ve done.
I feel no new strength surging in my soul
I’m not a hairsbreadth taller, I’m not one
Step nearer to the infinite goal.
MEPHISTOPHELES. My dear good sir, I fear your view
Of things is all too common in our day.
Revise it; and let’s see what we can do
Before life’s pleasures fleet away.
Confound it, man, one’s hands and feet of course 1820
Belong to one, so do one’s head and arse!
But all the things that give me pleasure,
Are they not mine too, for good measure?
Suppose I keep six stallions, don’t you see
The strength of each of them’s a part of me?
What a fine fellow I have grown,
Trotting with twenty-four feet of my own!
So come, drop all this cogitation, stir
Yourself, explore the world with me. I say
A philosophic ponderer 1830
Is like a poor beast led astray
By some malignant sprite, to graze on desert ground
When fine green grass is growing all around!
FAUST. How do we start?
MEPHISTOPHELES. First we get out of here!
What sort of prison-hole is this? What mere
Shadow of life you live, when all you do
Just bores your pupils and bores you!
Let your fat colleagues take the strain!
Stop threshing empty straw! Why, even when
There’s really something you could teach the poor lads, 1840
then
It’s something you’re forbidden to explain.
Ah, I hear one of them outside your door!
FAUST. I can’t see any students now.
MEPHISTOPHELES. He’s waited a long time, poor chap,
We’ll have to comfort him somehow.
Come, let me have your gown and cap. What a disguise! I’ll look my best in it.
[He dresses up as FAUST.]
Now leave all this to me and to my native wit.
I’ll only need a quarter of
an hour.
Meanwhile, make ready for our great Grand Tour! 1850
[Exit FAUST.]
MEPHISTOPHELES [in FAUST’S long gown].
Scorn reason, despise learning, man’s supreme*
Powers and faculties; let your vain dream
Of magic arts be fortified with sweet
Flatteries by the Spirit of Deceit,
And you’re mine, signature or none!—
Fate has endowed him with the blind
Impatience of an ever-striving mind;
In headlong haste it drives him on,
He skips the earth and leaves its joys behind.
I’ll drag him through life’s wastes, through every kind 1860
Of meaningless banality;
He’ll struggle like a bird stuck fast, I’ll bind
Him hand and foot; in his voracity
He’ll cry in vain for food and drink, he’ll find
Them dangling out of reach—ah, yes!
Even without this devil’s bond that he has signed
He’s doomed to perish nonetheless!
[A STUDENT enters.]* [UR
STUDENT. Sir, I’m a new arrival here
And you’re a famous man, I hear,
And so I’ve called to say hullo— 1870
Meaning no disrespect, you know!
MEPHISTOPHELES. You’re too polite; 1 do my best,
I’m just a man like all the rest.
No doubt you’ve met my colleagues too?
STUDENT. I’d much prefer some advice from you!
I’ll study everything with skill.
I’ve got some cash, lots of good will;
My mother told me: stay at home.
But I’m keen to learn, that’s why I’ve come.
MEPHISTOPHELES. Well, well, you’ve arrived at the right 1880
college.
STUDENT. Quite frankly, though I thirst for knowledge,
I’m not quite sure if I shall stay!
These walls and halls scare me away. [FRA
Everything seems to hem one in;
There’s no green grass, no trees, and in
These lecture-rooms—oh goodness me,
I can’t think straight or hear or see!
MEPHISTOPHELES. A matter of habituation,
That’s all! Babes at their mother’s breast
Will feed at first with hesitation, 1890
But soon show eagerness and zest.
Suck on at Wisdom’s breasts, you’ll find
She daily grows more sweet and kind.
STUDENT. Oh, I’ll embrace her very gladly, sir!
But can you show me, please, the way to her?
MEPHISTOPHELES. Tell me first, without more ado, [UR
Which Faculty appeals to you?
STUDENT. I want to be a learned man,
And find out everything I can—
All the whole universe contains, 1900
All about Nature, which Science explains.
MEPHISTOPHELES. Well, you’re on the right road, that’s clear.
But you’ll find a lot to distract you here!
STUDENT. Oh, I’ll work hard, don’t worry! Though [FRA
I’d like some fun too, that’s to say
Some free time now and then, you know,
On a fine summer holiday!
MEPHISTOPHELES. Make good use of your time! It hurries past,
But order and method make time last.
So, friend, take my advice to heart: [UR 1910
Hear lectures on Logic for a start.*
Logic will train your mind all right;
Like inquisitor’s boots it will squeeze you tight,
Your thoughts will learn to creep and crawl
And never lose their way at all,
Not get criss-crossed as now, or go
Will-o’-the-wisping to and fro!
We’ll teach you that your process of thinking
Instead of being like eating and drinking,
Spontaneous, instantaneous, free, 1920
Must proceed by one and two and three.
Our thought-machine, as I assume,
Is in fact like a master-weaver’s loom:
One thrust of his foot, and a thousand threads
Invisibly shift, and hither and thither
The shuttles dart—just once he treads
And a thousand strands all twine together.
In comes your philosopher and proves
It must happen by distinct logical moves:
The first is this, the second is that, 1930
And the third and fourth then follow pat;
If you leave out one or leave out two,
Then neither three nor four can be true.
The students applaud, they all say ‘just so!’—
But how to be weavers they still don’t know.
When scholars study a thing, they strive
To kill it first, if it’s alive;
Then they have the parts and they’ve lost the whole,
For the link that’s missing was the living soul.
Encheiresis naturae,* says Chemistry now— 1940
Mocking itself without knowing how.
STUDENT. I’m not quite sure if I understand.
MEPHISTOPHELES. You soon will; just carry on as planned.
You’ll learn reductive demonstrations
And all the proper classifications.
STUDENT. I’m so confused by all you’ve said,
It’s like a millwheel going round in my head!
MEPHISTOPHELES. Your next priority should be
Metaphysical philosophy!
That will teach your shallow human brain 1950
Profound thoughts which it can’t contain,
And for everything no one can understand
High-sounding words will be ready to hand.
But above all, this first term or two,
Learn order and method in all you do.
Five lectures will be your daily fare;
When the bell rings, make certain you’re there!
And do your homework before you go,
Learn all those paragraphs you must know,
You can check then, without even a look, 1960
That he’s saying nothing that’s not in the book;
And yet take notes, never stop writing,
Pretend it’s the Holy Ghost dictating!
STUDENT. Oh, sir, you’re absolutely right! [FRA
Notes are so useful, because then
You can take your lecture back home again,
And have it all down in black and white!
MEPHISTOPHELES. But come now, choose a Faculty!
STUDENT. I don’t think Jurisprudence would be quite my line.
MEPHISTOPHELES. Well, well, I can’t entirely disagree, 1970
I know a bit about that discipline.
Statutes and laws, inherited
Like an old sickness, passed on by the dead
Through endless generations, creeping down
From land to land, from town to town!
Sense becomes nonsense, good deeds dangerous;
Our forebears are our burden. How
About that natural law, new-born in each of us?
Dear me, one never hears that mentioned now.*
STUDENT. I’m put off the subject by that one speech! 1980
How lucky they are, the chaps you teach!
Maybe Theology’s what I should do.
MEPHISTOPHELES. I’d hate to be misleading you.
In that particular science it is hard
Not to stray from the path; be on your guard!
Much poison lurks in it; you can’t be sure
Of knowing what will kill and what will cure.
Here too, the wise beginner chooses
One master, and swears by every word he uses.
In short, hold fast to words!* They’ll guide 1990
You on the road to certainty,
And Wisdom’s gates will
open wide.
STUDENT. But words must have some sense, it seems to me.
MEPHISTOPHELES. Yes, yes, but don’t be bothered overmuch by that.
It’s just when sense is missing that a word comes pat
And serves one’s purpose most conveniently.
Words make for splendid disputations
And noble systematizations;
Words are matters of faith; as you’ll have heard,
One can take no jot nor tittle from a word!* 2000
STUDENT. You must excuse me, asking all these questions, [UR
But I’m quite keen on Medicine too.
I’d like a little word on that from you,
I’m sure you have some good suggestions.
Our three-year course is very short,
With all those subjects to be taught!
One needs a few tips just to start, you see,
Before one can make progress on one’s own.
MEPHISTOPHELES [aside]. I’m tired of this dry donnish tone;
It’s time for some more devilry. 2010
[Aloud] The art of Medicine’s easily defined.
You study the whole world, both great and small,
Only to find
That God’s creation can’t be changed at all.
Your far-flung scientific fantasies
Are vain; we each learn only what we can.
But he who seizes opportunities,
He’s the successful man!
Now, you’re still fairly young and strong
And, I dare say, a bold lad too; 2020
Just let self-confidence carry you along,
And others will have faith in you.
Learn, above all, to handle women! Why,
In all their thousand woes, one sure
And certain cure
Will end their endless sob and sigh!
With a polite approach you’ll put them at their ease,
And they’ll be yours to treat just as you please.
A door-plate helps; she’ll think: Now he
Has a superior degree! 2030
Then set your hands to work while bidding her good day,
And grope past years of other men’s delay!
You’ll press her tiny wrist just that much harder
To feel her pulse, and with sly ardour
Seize her about the slender waist,
To try if she’s too tightly laced!
STUDENT. Well now, that’s good advice! I see just what you mean!
MEPHISTOPHELES. My friend, all theory is grey, and green
The golden tree of life.
STUDENT. Oh, bless my soul,
I think I must be dreaming! Might I call 2040
Another day, and trouble you again
And hear the rest of all your wisdom then?
MEPHISTOPHELES. What’s in my power I’ll gladly do.
STUDENT. There’s just one thing I’d ask of you
Before I go, if you don’t mind:
Your autograph—if you would be so kind.*