Faust (trans. Bayard Taylor)/Act I/VII
VII.
HALL OF THE KNIGHTS, DIMLY LIGHTED.
(The Emperor and Court have entered.)
Herald.47
MINE ancient office, to proclaim the action,
Is by the spirits’ secret influence thwarted:
One tries in vain; such wildering distraction
Can’t be explained, or reasonably reported.
The chairs are ranged, the seats are ready all:
The Emperor sits, fronting the lofty wall,
Where on the tapestry the battles he
Of the great era may with comfort see.
Here now are all—Prince, Court, and their belonging,
Benches on benches in the background thronging;
And lovers, too, in these dim hours enchanted,
Beside their loved ones lovingly are planted.
And now, since all have found convenient places,
We ’re ready: let the spirits show the:r faces
Trumpets.
Is by the spirits’ secret influence thwarted:
One tries in vain; such wildering distraction
Can’t be explained, or reasonably reported.
The chairs are ranged, the seats are ready all:
The Emperor sits, fronting the lofty wall,
Where on the tapestry the battles he
Of the great era may with comfort see.
Here now are all—Prince, Court, and their belonging,
Benches on benches in the background thronging;
And lovers, too, in these dim hours enchanted,
Beside their loved ones lovingly are planted.
And now, since all have found convenient places,
We ’re ready: let the spirits show the:r faces
Trumpets.
Astrologer.
Begin the Drama! ’T is the Sire’s command:
Ye walls, be severed straightway, and expand!
Naught hinders ; magic answers our desire:
The arras flies, as shrivelled up by fire;
The walls are split, unfolded: in the gloom
A theatre appears to be created:
By mystic light are we illuminated,
And I ascend to the proscenium.
Ye walls, be severed straightway, and expand!
Naught hinders ; magic answers our desire:
The arras flies, as shrivelled up by fire;
The walls are split, unfolded: in the gloom
A theatre appears to be created:
By mystic light are we illuminated,
And I ascend to the proscenium.
Mephistopheles.
(rising to view in the prompter’s box).
I hope to win, as prompter, general glory;
For prompting is the Devil’s oratory.
(To the Astrologer.)
Thou know’st the tune and time the stars that lead;
Thou wilt my whispers like a master heed.
I hope to win, as prompter, general glory;
For prompting is the Devil’s oratory.
(To the Astrologer.)
Thou know’st the tune and time the stars that lead;
Thou wilt my whispers like a master heed.
Astrologer.
By power miraculous, we here behold
A massive temple of the days of old.
Like Atlas, who erewhile the heavens upbore,
The serried columns stand, an ample store:
Well may they for the weight of stone suffice,
Since two might bear a mighty edifice.
A massive temple of the days of old.
Like Atlas, who erewhile the heavens upbore,
The serried columns stand, an ample store:
Well may they for the weight of stone suffice,
Since two might bear a mighty edifice.
Architect.48
That the antique? As fine it can’t be rated;
I ’d sooner style it awkward, over-weighted.
Coarse is called noble, and unwieldy, grand:
Give me the slender shafts that soar, expand!
To lift the mind, a pointed arch may boast;
Such architecture edifies us most.
I ’d sooner style it awkward, over-weighted.
Coarse is called noble, and unwieldy, grand:
Give me the slender shafts that soar, expand!
To lift the mind, a pointed arch may boast;
Such architecture edifies us most.
Astrologer.
Receive with reverence the star-granted hours;
Let magic words bind Reason’s restless powers,
But in return unbind, to circle free,
The wings of splendid, daring Phantasy!
What you have boldly wished, see now achieved!
Impossible ’t is—therefore to be believed.
(Faust rises to view on the other side of the proscenium.)
In priestly surplice, crowned, a marvellous man,
He now fulfils what he in faith began.
With him, a tripod from the gulf comes up;
I scent the incense-odors from the cup.
He arms himself, the work to consecrate,
And henceforth it can be but fortunate.
Let magic words bind Reason’s restless powers,
But in return unbind, to circle free,
The wings of splendid, daring Phantasy!
What you have boldly wished, see now achieved!
Impossible ’t is—therefore to be believed.
(Faust rises to view on the other side of the proscenium.)
In priestly surplice, crowned, a marvellous man,
He now fulfils what he in faith began.
With him, a tripod from the gulf comes up;
I scent the incense-odors from the cup.
He arms himself, the work to consecrate,
And henceforth it can be but fortunate.
Faust (sublimely).
Ye Mothers, in your name, who set your throne
In boundless Space, eternally alone,
And yet companioned! All the forms of Being,
In movement, lifeless, ye are round you seeing.
Whate’er once was, there burns and brightens free
In splendor — for ’t would fain eternal be;
And ye allot it, with all-potent might,
To Day’s pavilions and the vaults of Night.
Life seizes some, along his gracious course;
Others arrests the bold Magician’s force;
And he, bestowing as his faith inspires,
Displays the Marvellous, that each desires.
In boundless Space, eternally alone,
And yet companioned! All the forms of Being,
In movement, lifeless, ye are round you seeing.
Whate’er once was, there burns and brightens free
In splendor — for ’t would fain eternal be;
And ye allot it, with all-potent might,
To Day’s pavilions and the vaults of Night.
Life seizes some, along his gracious course;
Others arrests the bold Magician’s force;
And he, bestowing as his faith inspires,
Displays the Marvellous, that each desires.
Astrologer.
The glowing key has scarcely touched the cup,
And lo! through all the space, a mist rolls up:
It creeps about, and like a cloudy train,
Spreads, rounding, narrowing, parting, closed again.
And now, behold a spirit-masterpiece!
Music is born from every wandering fleece.
The tones of air, I know not how they flow;
‘Where’er they move all things melodious grow.
The pillared shaft, the triglyph even rings:
I think, indeed, the whole bright temple sings.
The vapors settle; as the light film clears,
A beauteous youth, with rhythmic step, appears.
Here ends my task; his name I need not tell:
Who doth not know the gentle Paris well?50
And lo! through all the space, a mist rolls up:
It creeps about, and like a cloudy train,
Spreads, rounding, narrowing, parting, closed again.
And now, behold a spirit-masterpiece!
Music is born from every wandering fleece.
The tones of air, I know not how they flow;
‘Where’er they move all things melodious grow.
The pillared shaft, the triglyph even rings:
I think, indeed, the whole bright temple sings.
The vapors settle; as the light film clears,
A beauteous youth, with rhythmic step, appears.
Here ends my task; his name I need not tell:
Who doth not know the gentle Paris well?50
Lady.
O, what a youthful bloom and strength I see!
A Second.
Fresh as a peach, and full of juice, is he!
A Third.
The finely drawn, the sweetly swelling lip!
A Fourth.
From such a cup, no doubt, youd like to sip?
A Fifth.
He ’s handsome, if a little unrefined.
A Sixth.
He might be somewhat gracefuller, to my mind.
Knight.
The shepherd I detect; I find him wearing
No traces of the Prince, or courtly bearing.
No traces of the Prince, or courtly bearing.
Another.
O, yes! half-naked is the youth not bad;
But let us see him first in armor clad!
But let us see him first in armor clad!
Lady.
He seats himself, with such a gentle grace!
Knight.
You ’d find his lap, perchance, a pleasant place?
Another.
He lifts his arm so lightly o’er his head.
Chamberlain.
’T is not allowed: how thoroughly ill-bred!
Lady.
You lords find fault with all things evermore,
Chamberlain.
To stretch and yawn before the Emperor!
Lady.
He only acts: he thinks he’s quite alone.
Chamberlain.
Even the play should be politely shown.
Lady.
Now sleep falls on the graceful youth so sweetly.
Chamberlain.
Now will he snore: ’t is natural, completely !
Young Lady.
Mixed with the incense-steam, what odor precious
Steals to my bosom, and my heart refreshes ?
Steals to my bosom, and my heart refreshes ?
Older Lady.
Forsooth, it penetrates and warms the feeling!
It comes from him.
It comes from him.
Oldest Lady.
His flower of youth, unsealing,
It is: Youth’s fine ambrosia, ripe, unfading,
The atmosphere around his form pervading.
(Helena comes forward.)
It is: Youth’s fine ambrosia, ripe, unfading,
The atmosphere around his form pervading.
(Helena comes forward.)
Mephistopheles.
So, that is she? My sleep she would not waste:
She’s pretty, truly, but she’s not my taste.
She’s pretty, truly, but she’s not my taste.
Astrologer.
There ’s nothing more for me to do, I trow;
As man of honor, I confess it now.
The Beauty comes, and had I tongues of fire,—
So many songs did Beauty e’er inspire,—
Who sees her, of his wits is dispossessed,
And who possessed her was too highly blessed.
As man of honor, I confess it now.
The Beauty comes, and had I tongues of fire,—
So many songs did Beauty e’er inspire,—
Who sees her, of his wits is dispossessed,
And who possessed her was too highly blessed.
Faust.
Have I still eyes? Deep in my being springs
The fount of Beauty, in a torrent pouring!
A heavenly gain my path of terror brings.
The world was void, and shut to my exploring,—
And, since my priesthood, how hath it been graced!
Enduring ’t is, desirable, firm-based.
And let my breath of being blow to waste,
If I for thee unlearn my sacred duty!
The form, that long erewhile my fancy captured,
That from the magic mirror so enraptured,
Was but a frothy phantom of such beauty!
’T is Thou, to whom the stir of all my forces,
The essence of my passion’s courses,—
Love, fancy, worship, madness,—here I render!
The fount of Beauty, in a torrent pouring!
A heavenly gain my path of terror brings.
The world was void, and shut to my exploring,—
And, since my priesthood, how hath it been graced!
Enduring ’t is, desirable, firm-based.
And let my breath of being blow to waste,
If I for thee unlearn my sacred duty!
The form, that long erewhile my fancy captured,
That from the magic mirror so enraptured,
Was but a frothy phantom of such beauty!
’T is Thou, to whom the stir of all my forces,
The essence of my passion’s courses,—
Love, fancy, worship, madness,—here I render!
Mephistopheles (from the box).
Be calm!—you lose your rôle, to be so tender!
Older Lady.
Tall and well-formed! Too small the head, alone.
Younger Lady.
Just see her foot! A heavier ne’er was shown.
Diplomatist.
Princesses of her style I’ve often seen:
From head to foot she’s beautiful, I ween.
From head to foot she’s beautiful, I ween.
Courtier.
She near the sleeper steals, so soft and sly.
Lady.
How ugly, near that youthful purity!
Poet.
Her beauty’s light is on him like a dawn.
Lady.
Endymion and Luna—as they ’re drawn!
Poet.
Quite right! The yielding goddess seems to sink,
And o’er him bend, his balmy breath to drink.
Enviable fate—a kiss!—the cup is full!
And o’er him bend, his balmy breath to drink.
Enviable fate—a kiss!—the cup is full!
Duenna.
Before all people!—that is more than cool.
Faust.
A fearful favor to the boy!
Mephistopheles.
Be still!
Suffer the shade to do whate’er it will!
Suffer the shade to do whate’er it will!
Courtier.
She slips away, light-footed: he awakes.
Lady.
Just as I thought! Another look she takes.
Courtier.
He stares: what haps, to him a marvel is.
Lady.
But none to her, what she before her sees!
Courtier.
She turns around to him with dignity.
Lady.
I see, she means to put him through his paces:
All men, in such a case, act stupidly.
Then, too, he thinks that first he’s won her graces.
All men, in such a case, act stupidly.
Then, too, he thinks that first he’s won her graces.
Knight.
Majestically fine!—She pleases me.
Lady.
The courtesan! How very vulgar she!
Page.
Just where he is, is where I ’d like to be!
Courtier.
Who would not fain be caught in such sweet meshes?
Lady.
Through many a hand hath passed that jewel precious;
The gilding, too, is for the most part gone.
The gilding, too, is for the most part gone.
Another.
She has been worthless from her tenth year on.
Knight.
Each takes the best that chance for him obtains;
I ’d be contented with these fair remains.
I ’d be contented with these fair remains.
A Learned Man.
I freely own, though I distinctly see,
’T is doubtful if the genuine one she be.
The Present leads us to exaggeration,
And I hold fast the written, old relation.
I read that, truly, ere her bloom was blighted,
The Trojan gray-beards greatly she delighted.
And here, methinks, it tallies perfectly:
I am not young, yet she delighteth me.
’T is doubtful if the genuine one she be.
The Present leads us to exaggeration,
And I hold fast the written, old relation.
I read that, truly, ere her bloom was blighted,
The Trojan gray-beards greatly she delighted.
And here, methinks, it tallies perfectly:
I am not young, yet she delighteth me.
Astrologer.
No more a boy! A bold, heroic form,
He clasps her, who can scarce resist the storm.
With arm grown strong he lifts her high and free:
Means he to bear her off?
He clasps her, who can scarce resist the storm.
With arm grown strong he lifts her high and free:
Means he to bear her off?
Faust.
Rash fool, let be!
Thou dar’st? Thou hear’st not? Hold!—I ’ll be obeyed.
Thou dar’st? Thou hear’st not? Hold!—I ’ll be obeyed.
Mephistopheles.
The spectral drama thou thyself hast made!
Astrologer.
Faust.
What! Rape? Am I for nothing here? To stead me,
Is not this key still shining in my hand?
Through realms of terror, wastes, and waves it led me,
Through solitudes, to where I firmly stand.
Here foothold is! Realities here centre!
The strife with spirits here the mind may venture,
And on its grand, its double lordship enter!
How far she was, and nearer, how divine!
I ‘Il rescue her, and make her doubly mine.
Ye Mothers! Mothers! crown this wild endeavor!
Who knows her once must hold her, and forever!
Is not this key still shining in my hand?
Through realms of terror, wastes, and waves it led me,
Through solitudes, to where I firmly stand.
Here foothold is! Realities here centre!
The strife with spirits here the mind may venture,
And on its grand, its double lordship enter!
How far she was, and nearer, how divine!
I ‘Il rescue her, and make her doubly mine.
Ye Mothers! Mothers! crown this wild endeavor!
Who knows her once must hold her, and forever!
Astrologer.
What art thou doing, Faust? O, look at him!
He seizes her: the form is growing dim.
He turns the key against the youth, and, lo!
It touches him— Woe’s me! Away now! Woe on woe!
(Explosion. Faust lies upon the earth. The Spirits dissolve
in vapor.)
He seizes her: the form is growing dim.
He turns the key against the youth, and, lo!
It touches him— Woe’s me! Away now! Woe on woe!
(Explosion. Faust lies upon the earth. The Spirits dissolve
in vapor.)
Mephistopheles.
(taking Faust upon his shoulders).
You have it now! One’s self with fools to hamper,
At last even on the Devil puts a damper.
Darkness. Tumult.
You have it now! One’s self with fools to hamper,
At last even on the Devil puts a damper.
Darkness. Tumult.