Forging the instruments of his destruction Even from his love and from his wisdom.—Oh! Beloved carth, dear mother, in thy bosom I seek a refuge from the monster who Precipitates itself upon me. cY Phi An. Friend, Collect thyself; and be the memory Of thy late suffering, and thy greatest sorrow, But as a shadow of the past,-for nothing Beneath the circle of the moon, but flows And changes, and can never know repose. davion. And who art thou, before whose feet my fate IIas prostrated me? cyprian. One who, moved with pity, Would soothe its stings. noxion. Oh! that can never be ' No solace can my lasting sorrows find. cyphiaN, Wherefore? DAemion. Because my happiness is lost. Yet I lament what has long ceased to be The object of desire or memory, And my life is not life. cy pri AN. Now, since the fury Of this earthquaking hurricane is still, And the crystalline heaven has reassumed its windless calm so quickly, that it seems As if its heavy wrath had been awaken'd Only to overwhelm that vessel,-speak, Who art thou, and whence comest thou? dotMon. Far more My coming hither cost, than thou hast seen Or I can tell. Among my misadventures This shipwreck is the least. Wilt thou hear? cy Paian.
dow on. Since thou desirest, I will then unveil Myself to thee;—for in myself I am A world of happiness and misery; This I have lost, and that I must lament For ever. In my attributes I stood So high and so heroically great, In lineage so supreme, and with a genius which penetrated with a glance the world Beneath my feet, that, won by my high merit, A king—whom I may call the king of kings, Because all others tremble in their pride Before the terrors of his countenance, In his high palace roofd with brightest gems of living light—call them the stars of Heaven– Named me his counsellor. But the high praise Stung me with pride and envy, and I rose In mighty competition, to ascend His seat and place my foot triumphantly Upon his subject thrones. Chastised, I know The depth to which ambition falls; too mad Was the attempt, and yet more mad were now Repentance of the irrevocable deed :
Therefore I chose this ruin with the glory Of not to be subdued, before the shame Of reconciling me with him who reigns By coward cession.—Nor was I alone, Nor am I now, nor shall I he alone; And there was hope, and there may still be hope, For many suffrages among his vassals Hail'd me their lord and king, and many still Are mine, and many more, perchance, shall be. Thus vanquish'd, though in fact victorious, I left his seat of empire, from mine eye Shooting forth poisonous lightning, while my words With inauspicious thunderings shook Heaven, Proclaiming vengeance, public as my wrong, And imprecating on his prostrate slaves Itapine, and death, and outrage. Then I sail'd Over the mighty fabric of the world, A pirate ambush'd in its pathless sands, A lynx crouch'd watchfully among its caves And craggy shores; and I have wander'd over The expanse of these wide wildernesses In this great ship, whose bulk is now dissolved In the light breathings of the invisible wind, And which the sea has made a dustless ruin, Seeking ever a mountain, through whose forests I seek a man, whom I must now compel To keep his word with me. I came array'd In tempest; and although my power could well Bridle the forest winds in their career, For other causes I forbore to soothe Their fury to Favonian gentleness, I could and would not (thus I wake in him A love of magic art). Let not this tempest, Nor the succeeding calm excite thy wonder; For by my art the sun would turn as pale As his weak sister with unwonted fear. And in my wisdom are the orbs of Heaven Written as in a record; I have pierced The flaming circles of their wondrous spheres, And know them as thou knowest every corner Of this dim spot. Let it not seem to thee That I boast vainly; wouldst thou that I work A charm over this waste and savage wood, This Babylon of crags and aged trees, Filling its leafy coverts with a horror Thrilling and strange? I am the friendless guest Of these wild oaks and pines—and as from thce I have received the hospitality Of this rude place, I offer thee the fruit Of years of toil in recompense; whate'er Thy wildest dream presented to thy thought As object of desire, that shall be thine.
-
And thenceforth shall so firm an amity 'T wixt thou and me be, that neither fortune, The monstrous phantom which pursues success, That careful miser, that free prodigal, Who ever alternates with changeful hand, Evil and good, reproach and fame; nor Time, That loadstar of the ages, to whose beam The winged years speed o'er the intervals Of their unequal revolutions; nor Heaven itself, whose beautiful bright stars Rule and adorn the world, can ever make The least division between thee and me, Since now I find a refuge in thy favour.
sce N E III. The Demon tempts Justina, who is a Christian.
to Mexion. Abyss of Hell! I call on thee, Thou wild misrule of thine own anarchy! From thy prison-house set free The spirits of voluptuous death, That with their mighty breath They may destroy a world of virgin thoughts; Let her chaste mind with fancies thick as motes Be peopled from thy shadowy deep, Till her guiltless phantasy Full to overflowing be! And with sweetest harmony, Let birds, and flowers, and leaves, and all things move To love, only to love. Let nothing meet her eyes But signs of Love's soft victories; Let nothing meet her ear But sounds of love's sweet sorrow, So that from faith no succour she may borrow, But, guided by my spirit blind And in a magic snare entwined, She may now seek Cyprian. Begin, while I in silence bind My voice, when thy sweet song thou hast begun. A voice within N. What is the glory far above All else in human life? A LL. Love! love! [While these words are sung, the DeMon goes out at one door, and JustiNA enters at another. the Flast voice. There is no form in which the fire Of love its traces has impress'd not. Man lives far more in love's desire Than by life's breath, soon possess'd not. If all that lives must love or die, All shapes on earth, or sea, or sky, With one consent to Heaven cry That the glory far above All else in life is— ALL. Love! O love! Justin A. Thou melancholy thought which art So fluttering and so sweet, to thee When did I give the liberty Thus to afflict my heart? What is the cause of this new power Which doth my fever'd being move, Momently raging more and more? What subtle pain is kindled now Which from my heart doth overflow Into my senses?— * ALL. Love, O love! Justina. 'T is that enamour'd nightingale Who gives me the reply; He ever tells the same soft tale Of passion and of constancy
To his mate, who rapt and fond Listening sits, a bough beyond. He silent, Nightingale—no more Make me think, in hearing thee Thus tenderly thy love deplore, If a bird can feel his so, What a man would feel for me. And, voluptuous vine, O thou Who seekest most when least pursuing,- To the trunk thou interlacest Art the verdure which embracest, And the weight which is its ruin, No more, with green embraces, vine, Make me think on what thou lovest,- For whilst thou thus thy boughs entwine, I fear lest thou shouldst teach me, sophist, How arms might be entangled too. Light-enchanted sunflower, thou Who gazest ever true and tender On the sun's revolving splendour ! Follow not his faithless glance With thy faded countenance, Nor teach my beating heart to fear, If leaves can mourn without a tear, How eyes must weep ! O Nightingale, Cease from thy enamour'd tale,_ Leafy vine, unwreathe thy bower, Restless sunflower, cease to move, - Or tell me all, what poisonous Power Ye use against me— ALL. Love! love! love! Justin.A. It cannot be!—Whom have I ever loved? Trophies of my oblivion and disdain, Floro and Lelio did I not reject? And Cyprian?— [she becomes troubled at the name of cyprian Did I not requite him With such severity, that he has fled Where none has ever heard of him again?— Alas! I now begin to fear that this May be the occasion whence desire grows bold, As if there were no danger. From the moment That I pronounced to my own listening heart, Cyprian is absent, O me miserable ! I know not what I feel! [More calmly It must be pity, To think that such a man, whom all the world Admired, should be forgot by all the world, And I the cause. [She again becomes troubled And yet if it were pity, Floro and Lelio might have equal share, For they are both imprison'd for my sake. Alas! what reasonings are these? it is Enough I pity him, and that in vain, Without this ceremonious subtlety. And woe is me! I know not where to find him now, Even should I seek him through this wide world.
toxxion. Follow, and I will lead thee where he is.
justix A. And who art thou, who hast found entrance hither, Into my chamber through the doors and locks:
Art thou a monstrous shadow which my madness Who will betray thy name to infamy, - Has form'd in the idle air? And doubly shall I triumph in thy loss, draion. First by dishonouring thee, and then by turning No. I am one False pleasure to true ignominy. [Exit.
Call'd by the thought which tyrannizes thee From his eternal dwelling; who this day Is pledged to bear thee unto Cyprian. Justina. So shall thy promise fail. This agony Of passion which afflicts my heart and soul May sweep imagination in its storm; . The will is firm. da-Mon. Already half is done In the imagination of an act. The sin incurr'd, the pleasure then remains; Let not the will stop half-way on the road. JustiN.A. I will not be discouraged, nor despair, Although I thought it, and although "t is true, That thought is but a prelude to the deed:— Thought is not in my power, but action is: I will not move my foot to follow thee. D-Mon. But far a mightier wisdom than thine own Exerts itself within thee, with such power Compelling thee to that which it inclines That it shall force thy step; how wilt thou then Resist, Justina?
Justina. By my free-will. D-Mon. i Must force thy will. Justina.
It is invincible; It were not free if thou hadst power upon it. [He draws, but cannot move her.
D-MON. Come, where a pleasure waits thee.
Justina.
It were bought
Too dear.
D-Mon.
T will soothe thy heart to softest peace.
-ustina. T is dread captivity.
da-Mon.
"T is joy, "t is glory.
JUsTinA. 'T is shame, "t is torment,’t is despair.
D-MON.
But how
Canst thou defend thyself from that or me, If my power drags thee onward?
Justina.
My defence Consists in God. [He vainly endeavours to force her, and at last releases her. DAEM on. Woman, thou hast subdued me,
Only by not owning thyself subdued. But since thou thus findest defence in God, I will assume a feigned form, and thus Make thee a victim of my baffled rage. For I will mask a spirit in thy form,
JustiN.A. i
Appeal to Heaven against thee; so that Heaven May scatter thy delusions, and the blot Upon my fame vanish in idle thought, Even as flame dies in the envious air, And as the floweret wanes at morning frost, And thou shouldst never——But, alas! to whom Do I still speak?—Did not a man but now Stand here before me?—No, I am alone, And yet I saw him. Is he gone so quickly? Or can the heated mind engender shapes From its own fear? Some terrible and strange Peril is near. Lisander! father! lord
Livia!— Enter Lisa NDER and Livia. Lisandra. 0, my daughter! What? LiVI.A. What? JustiNA.
Saw you A man go forth from my apartment now?— I scarce sustain myself! LiSANDr.R. A man here! rustina. Have you not seen him? Livi A. No, Lady. Justina. I saw him. Lisanders. "T is impossible; the doors Which led to this apartment were all lock'd. livia (aside). I dare say it was Moscon whom she saw, For he was lock'd up in my room. Lisan DEa. It must Have been some image of thy phantasy: Such melancholy as thou feedest, is Skilful in forming such in the vain air Out of the motes and atoms of the day. LIVIA. My master's in the right. Justina. O, would it were Delusion! but I fear some greater ill. I feel as if out of my bleeding bosom My heart were torn in fragments; ay, Some mortal spell is wrought against my frame; So potent was the charm, that had not God Shielded my humble innocence from wrong, I should have sought my sorrow and my shame With willing steps.--Livia, quick bring my cloak, For I must seek refuge from these extremes Even in the temple of the highest God Which secretly the faithful worship. LIVIA. Here.
A flashing desolation there, Flames before the thunder's way;
But thy servants, Lord! revere The gentle changes of thy day.
cBoats or rae rheto
The Angels draw strength from thy glance, Though no one comprehend thee may 5–
Thy world's unwither'd countenance ls bright as on creation's day."
Mephistoph E. LEs. As thou, O Lord! once more art kind enough To interest thyself in our affairs— And ask, “How goes it with you there below 1. And as indulgently at other times Thou tookedst not my visits in ill part, Thou seest me here once more among thy household. Though I should scandalize this company, You will excuse me if I do not talk In the high style which they think fashionable; My pathos would certainly make you laugh too, Had you not long since given over laughing. Nothing know I to say of suns and worlds; I observe only how men plague themselves;— The little god o' the world keeps the same stamp, As wonderful as on creation's day:A little better would he live, hadst thou Not given him a glimpse of heaven's light, Which he calls reason, and employs it only To live more beastlily than any beast. With reverence to your Lordship be it spoken, He s like one of those long-legg'd grasshoppers, Who slits and jumps about, and sings for ever
' harmarl.
The sun sounds, according to ancient customa, In the song of emulation of his brother-spberet. And its fore-written circle Fulfills with a step of thunder. Its countenance gives the Angels atrongal, Though no one can fathou it, The incredible high works Are excellent as at the first day.
-Atatitri. And swift, and inconceivably swift The adornment of earth winds itself round, And exchanges Paradise-clearness With deep dreadful night. The sea foams in broad waves From its deep bottom, up to the rocks, And rocks and sea are torn on together In the eternal swift course of the spheres.
x fun art. And storms roar in emulation From sea to land, from land to sea. And make, raging, a chain of deepest operation round about. There flames a flashing destruction Before the path of the thunderbolt. But thy servants, Lord, revero The gentle alternations of thy day.
citotitow. Thy countenance gives the Angels strength. Though none can comprehend twee: And all thy lofty works Are excellent as at the first day.
The same old song i' the grass. There let him lie, Burying his nose in every heap of dung. the Lond. Have you no more to say? Do you come here Always to scold, and cavil, and complain Scens nothing ever right to you on earth? Mephistoph E. Les. No, Lord! I find all there, as ever, bad at best. Even I am sorry for man's days of sorrow ; I could myself almost give up the pleasure Of plaguing the poor things. the Lord. Knowest thou Faust? Mephistoph ELE5. The Doctor 7 The Lord. Ay; my servant Faust. Mephistopheles. In truth He serves you in a fashion quite his own; And the fool's meat and drink are not of earth. His aspirations bear him on so far That he is half aware of his own folly, For he demands from Heaven its fairest star, And from the earth the highest joy it bears: Yet all things far, and all things near, are vain To calm the deep emotions of his breast. the loft d. Though he now serves me in a cloud of error, I will soon lead him forth to the clear day. When trees look green, full well the gardener knows That fruits and blooms will deck the coming year. air phistoppi Eles. What will you bet?—now I am sure of winning : Only, observe you give me full permission To lead him softly on my path. The Load. As long As he shall live upon the earth, so long Is nothing unto thee forbidden—Man Must err till he has ceased to struggle. MEPHistophe LEs. Thanks. And that is all I ask; for willingly I never make acquaintance with the dead. The full fresh cheeks of youth are food for me; And if a corpse knocks, I am not at home. For I am like a cat—I like to play A little with the mouse before I eat it. the Lond. Well, well it is permitted thee. Draw thou his spirit from its springs; as thou find'st power, Seize him and lead him on thy downward path; And stand ashamed when failure teaches thee That a good man, even in his darkest longings, Is well aware of the right way. Mephistop tieles. Well and good. I am not in much doubt about my bet; And if I lose, then t is your turn to crow; Enjoy your triumph then with a full breast. Ay! dust shall he devour, and that with pleasure, Like my old paramour, the famous Snake. The Lond. Pray come here when it suits you; for I never Ilad much dislike for people of your sort.
And, among all the Spirits who rebell'd, The knave was ever the least tedious to me. The active spirit of man soon sleeps, and soon He seeks unbroken quiet; therefore I Have given him the Devil for a companion, Who may provoke him to some sort of work, And must create for ever.—But ye, pure Children of God, enjoy eternal beauty;- Let that which ever operates and lives Clasp you within the limits of its love; And seize with sweet and melancholy thoughts The floating phantoms of its loveliness. [Heaven closes; the Archangels exeunt. Mephistopheles. From time to time I visit the old fellow, And I take care to keep on good terms with him. Civil enough is this same God Almighty, To talk so freely with the Devil himself.
MAY-DAY NIGHT. Scene—The Hartz Mountain, a desolate Country. FAust, Mephistopheles.
Mephistopheles. Would you not like a broomstick? As for me, I wish I had a good stout ram to ride; For we are still far from th' appointed place. Faust. This knotted staff is help enough for me, Whilst I feel fresh upon my legs. What good Is there in making short a pleasant way? To creep along the labyrinths of the vales, And climb those rocks, where ever-babbling springs Precipitate themselves in waterfalls, Is the true sport that seasons such a path. Already Spring kindles the birchen spray, And the hoar pines already feel her breath: Shall she not work also within our limbs Mephistopheles. Nothing of such an intluence do I feel: My body is all wintry, and I wish The flowers upon our path were frost and snow. But see, how melancholy rises now, Dimly uplifting her belated beam, The blank unwelcome round of the red moon, And tives so bad a light, that every step One stumbles 'gainst some crag. With your permission, I'll call an Ignis-fatuus to our aid; I see one yonder burning jollily. Halloo, my friend! may I request that you Would favour us with your bright company? Why should you blaze away there to no purpose? Pray be so good as light us up this way. 1GNIS-F ATU U.S. With reverence be it spoken, I will try To overcome the lightness of my nature: Our course, you know, is generally zig-zag. Mephistoph Eles. Ha, ha! your worship thinks you have to deal With men. Go straight on, in the Devil's name, Or I shall puff your flickering life out. IGNils-FATuus. Well, I see you are the master of the house; I will accommodate myself to you.
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