Faust.

Would that 1 were

Up yonder in the glow and whirling smoke,
Where the blind million rush impetuously
To meet the evil ones; there might I solve
Many a riddle that torments me !

Inextricably. Let the great world rage!
We will stay here safe in the quiet dwellings.
"Tis an old custom. Men have ever built
Their own small world in the great world of all.
I see young witches naked there, and old ones
Wisely attired with greater decency.

Be guided now by me, and you shall buy

A pound of pleasure with a dram of trouble.

I hear them tune their instruments-one must
Get used to this damned scraping. Come, I'll lead you
Among them; and what there you do and see,
As a fresh compact 'twixt us two shall be.

How say you now? this space is wide enough-
Look forth, you cannot see the end of it-
A hundred bonfires burn in rows, and they
Who throng around them seem innumerable:
Dancing and drinking, jabbering, making love,
And cooking, are at work. Now tell me, friend,
What is there better in the world than this?
Faust. In introducing us, do you assume
The character of wizard or of devil?
Meph. In truth, I generally go about
In strict incognito; and yet one likes
To wear one's orders upon gala days.
I have no ribbon at my knee; but here,
At home, the cloven foot is honourable.

See you that snail there?-she comes creeping up,

And with her feeling eyes hath smelt out something.
I could not, if I would, mask myself here.
Come now, we'll go about from fire to fire:

I'll be the pimp, and you shall be the lover.

[To some old Women, who are sitting round a heap
of glimmering coals.

Old gentlewomen, what do you do out here?
You ought to be with the young rioters
Right in the thickest of the revelry-
But every one is best content at home.

General. Who dare confide in right or a just claim?
So much as I had done for them! and now-

With women and the people 'tis the same,
Youth will stand foremost ever,-age may go
To the dark grave unhonoured.

Minister.

Now-a-days

People assert their rights; they go too far;

But, as for me, the good old times I praise. Then we were all in all; 'twas something worth One's while to be in place and wear a star; That was indeed the golden age on earth.

Parvenu. We too are active, and we did and do What we ought not perhaps; and yet we now

Will seize, whilst all things are whirled round and round, A spoke of Fortune's wheel, and keep our ground. Author. Who now can taste a treatise of deep sense And ponderous volume? 'Tis impertinence

To write what none will read, therefore will I

To please the young and thoughtless people try.

Meph. (Who at once appears to have grown very old.)

I find the people ripe for the last day,

A sort of fundholder.

Since I last came up to the wizard mountain;
And as my little cask runs turbid now,
So is the world drained to the dregs.
Look here,

Pedlar-witch.

Gentlemen; do not hurry on so fast,
And lose the chance of a good pennyworth.

I have a pack full of the choicest wares
Of every sort, and yet in all my bundle

Is nothing like what may be found on earth;
Nothing that in a moment will make rich

Men and the world with fine malicious mischief—
There is no dagger drunk with blood; no bowl
From which consuming poison may be drained
By innocent and healthy lips; no jewel,
The price of an abandoned maiden's shame;
No sword which cuts the bond it cannot loose,
Or stabs the wearer's enemy in the back
No

Meph.

Gossip, you know little of these times. What has been, has been; what is done, is past. They shape themselves into the innovations They breed, and innovations drags us with it. The torrent of the crowd sweeps over us; You think to impel, and are yourself impelled. Faust. Who is that yonder?

Beware
Women

All

And,

in the magic of her locks;

when she winds them round a young man's neck, She will not ever set him free again.

Faust. There sit a girl and an old woman-they
Seem to be tired with pleasure and with play.

Meph. There is no rest to-night for any one:
When one dance ends another is begun;
Come, let us to it. We shall have rare fun.

[Faust dances and sings with a Girl, and Mephistopheles with an old Woman.

Brecto-phantasmist.

about?

What is this cursed multitude

Have we not long since proved to demonstration

That ghosts move not on ordinary feet?

But these are dancing just like men and women.
The Girl. What does he want then at our ball?
Faust.

Is far above us all in his conceit:

Oh! he

Whilst we enjoy, he reasons of enjoyment;
And any step which in our dance we tread,
If it be left out of his reckoning,

Is not to be considered as a step.

There are few things that scandalize him not;
And, when you whirl round in the circle now,
As he went round the wheel in his old mill,
He says that you go wrong in all respects,
Especially if you congratulate him

Upon the strength of the resemblance.

Brocto-phantasmist.

Fly!

Vanish! Unheard of impudence! What, still there!
In this enlightened age too, since you have been
Proved not to exist!-But this infernal brood

Will hear no reason and endure no rule.
Are we so wise, and is the pond still haunted?
How long have I been sweeping out this rubbish
Of superstition, and the world will not

Since I last came up to the wizard mountais;
And as my little cask runs turbid now,
So is the world drained to the dregs.

Pedlar-witch.

Look here,

Gentlemen; do not hurry on so fast,
And lose the chance of a good pennyworth.
I have a pack full of the choicest wares
Of every sort, and yet in all my bundle
Is nothing like what may be found on earth;
Nothing that in a moment will make rich

Men and the world with fine malicious mischief-
There is no dagger drunk with blood; no bowl
From which consuming poison may be drained
By innocent and healthy lips; no jewel,
The price of an abandoned maiden's shame;
No sword which cuts the bond it cannot loose,
Or stabs the wearer's enemy in the back

No

Meph.

Gossip, you know little of these times. What has been, has been; what is done, is past. They shape themselves into the innovations They breed, and innovations drags us with it. The torrent of the crowd sweeps over us; You think to impel, and are yourself impelled. Faust. Who is that yonder?

Beware of her fair hair, for she excels

All women in the magic of her locks;

And, when she winds them round a young man's neck, She will not ever set him free again.