Faust
A
writing, Pedant! dost demand from me? Man, and man's plighted word, are
these unknown to thee? Is't not enough, that by the word I gave, My doom
for
evermore is cast? Doth not the world in all its currents rave, And must a
promise hold me fast? Yet fixed is this
delusion in our heart; Who, of his own
free will, therefrom would part? How blest within whose breast truth reigneth
pure! No sacrifice will he
repent when made! A
formal deed, with seal and
signature, A spectre this from which all
shrink afraid. The word its life
resigneth in the pen, Leather and wax usurp the
mastery then. Spirits of evil!
what dost thou require? Brass,
marble,
parchment, paper, dost desire? Shall I
with
chisel, pen, or graver write? Thy choice is free; to me 'tis all the same.
Mephistopheles
Wherefore thy
passion so
excite And thus thine
eloquenceinflame? A scrap is
for our
compact good. Thou under - signest merely with a drop of blood.
Faust
If this will satisfy thy mind, Thy whim I'll
gratify, howe'er absurd.
Mephistopheles
Blood is a juice of very special kind.
Faust
Be not afraid that I shall break my word! The scope of all my
energy Is in
exact
accordance with my vow. Vainly I have
aspired too high; I'm on a level
but with such as thou; Me the great spirit scorn'd, defied; Nature from me
herself doth hide; Rent is the web of thought; my mind Doth knowledge loathe
of every kind. In depths of sensual pleasure drown'd, Let us our fiery
passions
still! Enwrapp'd in magic's veil
profound, Let
wondrous charms our senses
thrill! Plunge we in time's tempestuous flow, Stem we the rolling surge of
chance! There may
alternate weal and woe, Success and
failure, as they can,
Mingle and shift in changeful dance! Excitement is the
sphere for man.
Mephistopheles
Nor goal, nor
measure is prescrib'd to you, If you desire to taste of every
thing, To
snatch at joy while on the wing, May your
career amuse and profit
too! Only fall to and don't be over coy!
Faust
Hearken! The end I aim at is not joy; I crave
excitement, agonizing bliss,
Enamour'd
hatred, quickening
vexation. Purg'd from the love of knowledge,
my
vocation, The scope of all my powers
henceforth be this, To bare my
breast to every pang, - to know In my heart's core all human weal and woe,
To grasp in thought the lofty and the deep, Men's various fortunes on my
breast to heap, And thus to
theirsdilate my individual mind, And share at
length with them the
shipwreck of mankind.
Mephistopheles
Oh, credit me, who still as ages roll, Have chew'd this bitter fare from year to
year, No
mortal, from the
cradle to the bier, Digests the ancient leaven!
Know, this Whole Doth for the Deity alone subsist! He in
eternal brightness
doth exist, Us unto darkness he hath brought, and here Where day and night
alternate, is your
sphere.
Faust
But 'tis my will!
Mephistopheles
Well
spoken, I admit! But one thing puzzles me, my friend; Time's short, art
long;
methinks 'twere fit That you to friendly
counsel should attend. A poet
choose as your ally! Let him thought's wide
dominion sweep, Each good and
noble quality, Upon your honoured brow to heap; The lion's magnanimity,
The fleetness of the hind, The fiery blood of Italy, The Northern's steadfast
mind. Let him to you the
mystery show To blend high aims and
cunning low;
And while youth's
passions are aflame To fall in love by rule and plan! I fain
would meet with such a man; Would him Sir Microcosmus name.
Faust
What then am I, if I
aspire in vain The crown of our
humanity to gain,
Towards which my every sense doth strain?
Mephistopheles
Thou'rt after all - just what thou art. Put on thy head a wig with
countless