FAUST. How the gale rages through the air!
How furiously it lashes at my head!
MEPHISTOPHELES. It will lash you right off the precipice; take care!
Grab those old ribs of rock, or you’ll be dead.
A mist thickens the night. 3940
Hear the storm in the woods! The owls
Are startled into flight.
Hear now, in those ever-green halls,
The columns crack, the boughs moan
As they split! On every side
The mighty tree-trunks groan!
Their roots creak, gaping wide!
In fearful chaos they all
Crash together as they fall,
And through the half-choked clefts of this 3950
Their ruin, the winds howl and hiss.
Do you hear voices in the sky?
Far away? And nearby?
Yes! There it rages, up and along
The whole mountain, a torrent of witching song!
WITCHES [in chorus]. Where have the Brocken witches been?
Stubble is yellow, young corn is green.
Now we meet again, and up we ride!
Lord Capercailzie will preside.*
So come away, let’s make a start! 3960
A goat can stink, a witch can fart!
A VOICE. Look, here comes Mother Baubo now!*
She’s all by herself, she rides a sow!
CHORUS. Well, let’s pay honour where honour’s due.
Lead on, Dame Baubo, and we’ll ride too!
A proper dame and a proper swine,
And the whole witch-rabble follows in line!
A VOICE. Which way did you come?
A VOICE. By the Ilsenstein!
Looked into the owl’s nest as I passed;
She got a surprise!
A VOICE. Oh to hell with you! 3970
Stop riding so fast!
A VOICE. I’m scratched to the bone!
Just look what she’s done!
WITCHES [in chorus]. The way is wide, the way is long;
The devil take this crazy throng!
The broomstick scratches, the pitchfork pokes,
The mother bursts, the baby chokes.*
WARLOCKS [half chorus]. We’re lagging behind at the
women’s tails,
We’re crawling after them like snails;
For on the way to Satan’s bed 3980
A woman starts a mile ahead.
WARLOCKS [the other half]. Why worry?
We still win these races!
A woman’s mile’s a thousand paces:
But let her hurry as she can—
One jump’s enough if you’re a man!
A VOICE [above]. Come up from the tarn! You must follow us now!
A VOICE [from below]. We want to come, but we don’t know how.
The water washes us bright and clear,
But we’re barren for ever, we’re still stuck here.
BOTH CHORUSES. The wind is silent, the stars hide, 3990
The dull moon covers its face as we ride.
A thousand sparks of hell-fire fly
As the witching chorus rushes by!
A VOICE [from below]. Wait for me! Wait, or I’ll be left
Behind!
A VOICE [from above]. Who calls from the rocky cleft?
VOICE [below]. Take me with you! Take me with you! Stop!
For three hundred years already I’ve climbed,
And still I can never get to the top.
I want to be there with my own kind.
BOTH CHORUSES. Fly on a broom-handle, fly on a stick; 4000
A pitchfork or goat will do the trick!
If you can’t get off the ground today
You’re lost for ever anyway.
HALF-WITCH [below]. I can’t keep up, I can’t keep abreast,
I’m always so far behind the rest.
When I’m at home I don’t feel right,
Yet I don’t belong on Walpurgis Night.
CHORUS OF WITCHES. Witch-unction lifts our spirits
high;*
Any old trough will travel the sky,
Any old rag will do for a sail. 4010
You must fly tonight, or you’ll always fail!
BOTH CHORUSES. And as we hover round and round
The top,* let’s skim along the ground;
Let the blasted heath be occupied
By the witch-clanjamphry far and wide!
[They settle on the ground.]
MEPHISTOPHELES. They push, they shove, they rush, they rattle,
They tug and swirl, they hiss and prattle,
They blaze and sputter and burn and stink!
It’s a real witch-world, don’t you think?
Keep close, or we’ll be swept apart somehow. 4020
Where are you?
FAUST [in the distance]. Here!
MEPHISTOPHELES. What, all that far away?
I must assert my landlord’s rights. Make way!
Squire Voland’s here.* Make way, sweet rabble! Now,
Doctor, catch hold of me! and with some haste,
With one leap, we’ll escape from this canaille;
It’s all too crazy, even for my taste.
Look, there’s a light, there’s quite a special glow;
Those bushes over there have caught my eye.
Let’s slip in there now, come, let’s go!
FAUST. What a spirit of paradox you are! Well then, 4030
Lead on! An excellent idea, to climb
The Brocken on Walpurgis Night, and spend the time
Hiding out in some isolated den!
MEPHISTOPHELES. Look how that jolly camp-fire gleams!
A pleasant social gathering, it seems.
One’s not alone in select company.
FAUST. But the summit’s where I’d rather be!
There’s swirling smoke there, fire from hell.
The mob streams up to Satan’s throne;
I’d learn things there I’ve never known. 4040
MEPHISTOPHELES. And meet new mysteries as well.
Let the great mad world go its way;
It’s cosy here, so why not stay?
The great world, as you know, by subdivision
Turns into small worlds; it’s an old tradition.
Why, look! young naked witchlings, fresh and sweet!
Older hags too, more wisely dressed.
Don’t let me down; let’s do our best!
It’s not much trouble, and it’s such a treat.
Listen, there’s music of some kind! 4050
Damned whining noise. But still, one mustn’t mind.
Come; come with me—it’s plain what we must do:
We’ll go in, I’ll present you. I’ll renew
Your debt of gratitude to me! And so,
My friend, how do you like it? It’s not small;
One can’t see where the place ends. Look at all
Those fires burning in a row!
One can dance here, talk, drink, make love or cook a meal;
Just tell me where you’ll get a better deal!
FAUST. And what role will you play to make our entry 4060
here?
The Devil, or perhaps a sorcerer?
MEPHISTOPHELES. I like to go incognito on most occasions;
But on a gala night one wears one’s decorations.
The Garter, alas, I’ve never merited,
But here my cloven hoof will stand me in good stead.
Look at that big fat snail crawling our way!
She’s got sensitive feelers on her snout,
She lost no time smelling me out.
Disguise is useless here, try as one may.
We’ll go from fire to fire; come, let’s start! 4070
You are the wooer, and I speak your part.
[To a group sitting round dying embers.]
What are you doing here, you ancient gentlemen,
Right at the end, sitt
ing apart so surly
And not among the youthful hurly-burly?
You’ll be alone enough when you’re at home again.
A GENERAL. Who’d trust a nation now? No matter what
One’s done for them, great deeds or not—
Whether it’s women or the people’s praise,
Only the young win either nowadays.
A MINISTER. The good old times, where did they go? 4080
This modern world’s hopelessly incorrect.
That was the golden age, you know,
When you and I were treated with respect.
A PARVENU. And we didn’t do badly then, we made
Our little pile, though moralists might frown.
But now we’re trying to consolidate,
And suddenly it’s all turned upside down.
AN AUTHOR. Where are there readers now, for prose or verse,
For any work of moderate good sense?
As for young people, bless their impudence 4090
And sheer conceit, one’s never known it worse.
MEPHISTOPHELES [suddenly looking very old].
The nation’s ripe for the last trump, I fear,
Since this is my last climb up here.
My cask is drained down to the dregs,
Which means the world must be on its last legs.
A PEDLAR-WITCH*. Gentlemen, pause a moment, if you please!
Don’t miss this opportunity !
I offer goods in great variety:
Where did you last see things like these?
Yet, though my stall’s unique, you’ll find 4100
Not one thing among all this lot
That in some way, some time, has not
Injured the world or harmed mankind.
No dagger here that’s not shed blood, no cup
That has not poured its deadly juice
Into some wholesome life to burn it up;
No jewel that could not seduce
A lovely girl, no sword that by some traitor’s blow,
Dealt from behind, has not struck down his foe!
MEPHISTOPHELES. Cousin, the times have overtaken 4110
you.
What’s done is done, what’s said is said!
Try peddling novelties instead!
Nothing will sell unless it’s new.
FAUST. I almost could forget myself today.
This is some fairground, I must say!
MEPHISTOPHELES. The whole mob streams and strives uphill;
One thinks one’s pushing, and one’s pushed against one’s will.
FAUST. What woman’s that?
MEPHISTOPHELES. Look at her carefully;
Her name is Lilith.*
FAUST. Who?
MEPHISTOPHELES. Adam’s first wife. Beware!
There is strong magic in her hair; 4120
She needs no other ornament. That net
Can catch young men, and doesn’t let
Her victims go again so easily.
FAUST. There’s two of them, one old, one young; and I’ll be bound
They’ve both been covering the ground.
MEPHISTOPHELES. Today it’s practically non-stop.
Come, let’s join in, look! they’ve begun another hop.
FAUST [dancing with the young witch].
A pleasant dream once came to me:
I saw a lovely apple-tree,
And two fine apples hanging there; 4130
I climbed to pick that golden pair.
THE FAIR ONE. You men were always apple-mad;
Adam in Eden was just as bad.
I’ve apples in my garden too—
How pleased I am to pleasure you!
MEPHISTOPHELES [with the old witch].
A naughty dream once came to me:
I saw a cleft and cloven tree.
It was a monstrous hole, for shame!*
But I like big holes just the same.
THE OLD WITCH. Greetings, Sir Cloven-Hoof, my dear! 4140
Such gallant knights are welcome here.
Don’t mind the outsize hole; indeed,
An outsize plug is what we need!*
MR ARSEY-PHANTARSEY.* Damned spirit-rabble! Stop this insolence!
Hasn’t it been quite clearly proved to you
You don’t exist as proper people do?
You have no standing, yet you even dance!
THE FAIR ONE [dancing]. What is he doing at our ball?
FAUST [dancing]. Oh, he’s the skeleton at all
These feasts. Others just dance, but he evaluates. 4150
Each step we take, he thinks it must,
If it’s to count, be learnedly discussed.
Any step forward is what most he hates;
Shuffle round in a circle, if you will,
As he does in his own old mill,
And no doubt he’ll approve—especially
If you ask his opinion courteously.
MR ARSEY-PHANTARSEY. This is outrageous! Why are you still here?
The world has been enlightened! You must disappear!
—Damned lawless sprites, they dance on, nothing 4160
daunted.
We state the rules, and still that house in Tegel’s haunted!*
All my life long I’ve tried to sweep away
This superstitious junk. It’s an outrage, I say!
THE FAIR ONE. Then clear off, and stop being such a bore!
MR ARSEY-PHANTARSEY. I tell you spirits flat, I’ll stand no more
Of this! It’s spiritual bullying.
My spirit’s scope can’t cope with such a thing!
[The dance continues.]
Today. I see, I’m having no success.
Still, it’s travel-material nonetheless;*
I’ll write it up. And one day, ’pon my soul, 4170
I’ll get devils and poets under my control.
MEPHISTOPHELES. He’ll sit down in a swamp now; that’s the way
He gets relief. Fat leeches make a meal
Of his backside, and so his spirits heal,
His visions and his brains all melt away!
[To FAUST, who has stopped dancing.]
Why have you let that pretty creature go,
Who danced and sang so charmingly?
FAUST. Ugh, as she sang, didn’t you see?
A red mouse jumped out of her mouth!
MEPHISTOPHELES. Quite so!
Remarkable! Be glad at least 4180
It was no grey and common little beast.
This is an hour of dalliance, you know!
FAUST. Then I saw—
MEPHISTOPHELES. What?
FAUST. Mephisto, look! Right over there:
A young girl stands, so pale, so fair,
All by herself! How slowly she moves now,
As if her feet were fastened somehow!
And as I look, it seems to me
It’s poor dear Gretchen that I see!
MEPHISROPHLLES. Let it alone! That is no wholesome vision,
But a dead thing, a magic apparition; 4190
I warn you to avoid it. Come,
And keep your distance, or its stare will seize
Your living blood, almost to stone you’ll freeze.
You have heard of the Gorgon, I presume.
FAUST. It’s true, it’s true! Those eyes are open wide,
Closed by no loving hand! I know
Gretchen’s sweet body which I have enjoyed,
Her breast that lay by mine not long ago!
MEPHISTOPHELES. Gullible fool! That’s the enchanter’s art:
She takes the shape of every man’s sweetheart! 4200
FAUST. Alas, what anguish, what delight!
I cannot tear my eyes from this one sight!
How strange it is: her lovely neck’s arrayed
With one encircling scarlet thread,
No wider than the edge of a knife-blade!*
MEPHISTOPHELES. Yes, yes, I see it too. She can transport her head
br /> Under her arm if you prefer;
Perseus, as you know, beheaded her.
You are obsessed by these illusions still.
Come, let’s just climb this little hill. 4210
It’s like Vienna’s new suburban park;
What fun! And if they’ve not deluded me,
It’s actually a theatre. What a lark!
What’s going on?
MR AT-YOUR-SERVICE. The show starts again presently!
It’s a new piece, the last of seven.
That’s how our plays are always given.
A dilettante wrote all these;
The cast are dilettantes too.
My dilettante-duty, if you please,
Is now to raise the curtain; so, good sirs, 4220
Excuse me!
MEPHISTOPHELES. Well met here, the pack of you!
The Blocksberg’s the right place for amateurs.
25. A WALPURGIS NIGHT’S DREAM* [F.I.
or
THE GOLDEN WEDDING OF OBERON AND TITANIA
[An Intermezzo.]
THE STAGE CARPENTER.
This stage won’t need old Mieding’s skill:*
We’ve got no work to do here.
Dull soggy valleys, one old hill,
And that’s the total view here!
A HERALD.
A marriage in its fiftieth year
Is golden by duration.
And they’ve stopped quarreling too, I hear:
That’s gold for jubilation. 4230
OBERON.
Spirits, I’m here—and where are you?
Show yourselves now, you devils!
Your king and queen are wed anew,
So let’s begin our revels!
PUCK.
Puck’s here, my lord! I dance, I spin,
I’m light of foot! You’ll find me
Among a hundred others in
The giddy throng behind me.
ARIEL.
Ariel’s song is sweet and pure:
Some ugly frumps revere it, 4240
But it can also please and lure
When lovely ladies hear it.
OBERON.
Couples, if in the married state
You look for calm contentment,
Do as we’ve done and separate!
Distance will lend enchantment.
TITANIA.
When wife and husband can’t agree,
Immediately advise them:
‘Madam, go south! and sir, go north!’
That will de-polarize them. 4250
FULL ORCHESTRA [fortissimo].
Fly-Snout and Gnat-Nose, here we are,
With kith and kin on duty:
Frog-in-the-Leaves and Grasshopper—
The instrumental tutti!
A SOLO.
Look, here comes Mr Bagpipe-Squeeze,*
Alias Sir Soap-Bubble!
He has to whinge and whine and wheeze,
His blunt nose gives him trouble.