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The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries, Volume 01

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Дата написания1970-01-01

Язык книгиen

Возрастное ограничение12+

Жанры

зарубежная классика зарубежная старинная литература

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(Agitated)

Is some one here?

CARE

The question prompteth, yes!

FAUST

What art thou then?

CARE

Here, once for all, am I.

FAUST

Withdraw thyself!

CARE

My proper place is this.

FAUST (first angry, then appeased. Aside)

Take heed, and speak no word of sorcery.

CARE

Though by outward ear unheard, By my moan the heart is stirred; And in ever-changeful guise, Cruel force I exercise; On the shore and on the sea, Comrade dire hath man in me Ever found, though never sought, Flattered, cursed, so have I wrought. Hast thou as yet Care never known?

FAUST

I have but hurried through the world, I own. I by the hair each pleasure seized; Relinquished what no longer pleased, That which escaped me I let go, I've craved, accomplished, and then craved again; Thus through my life I've storm'd—with might and main, Grandly, with power, at first; but now indeed, It goes more cautiously, with wiser heed. I know enough of earth, enough of men; The view beyond is barred from mortal ken; Fool, who would yonder peer with blinking eyes, And of his fellows dreams above the skies! Firm let him stand, the prospect round him scan, Not mute the world to the true-hearted man Why need he wander through eternity? What he can grasp, that only knoweth he. So let him roam adown earth's fleeting day; If spirits haunt, let him pursue his way; In joy or torment ever onward stride, Though every moment still unsatisfied!

CARE

To him whom I have made mine own All profitless the world hath grown: Eternal gloom around him lies; For him suns neither set nor rise; With outward senses perfect, whole, Dwell darknesses within his soul; Though wealth he owneth, ne'ertheless He nothing truly can possess. Weal, woe, become mere phantasy; He hungers 'mid satiety; Be it joy, or be it sorrow, He postpones it till the morrow; Of the future thinking ever, Prompt for present action never.

FAUST

Forbear! Thou shalt not come near me! I will not hear such folly. Hence! Avaunt! This evil litany The wisest even might bereave of sense.

CARE

Shall he come or go? He ponders;— All resolve from him is taken; On the beaten path he wanders, Groping on, as if forsaken. Deeper still himself he loses, Everything his sight abuses, Both himself and others hating, Taking breath—and suffocating, Without life—yet scarcely dying, Not despairing—not relying. Rolling on without remission: Loathsome ought, and sad permission, Now deliverance, now vexation, Semi-sleep,—poor recreation, Nail him to his place and wear him, And at last for hell prepare him.

FAUST

Unblessèd spectres! Ye mankind have so Treated a thousand times, their thoughts deranging; E'en uneventful days to mar ye know, Into a tangled web of torment changing! 'Tis hard, I know, from demons to get free, The mighty spirit-bond by force untying; Yet Care, I never will acknowledge thee, Thy strong in-creeping, potency defying.

CARE

Feel it then now; as thou shalt find When with a curse from thee I've wended: Through their whole lives are mortals blind— So be thou, Faust, ere life be ended! [She breathes on him.]

FAUST (blind)

Deeper and deeper night is round me sinking; Only within me shines a radiant light. I haste to realize, in act, my thinking; The master's word, that only giveth might. Up, vassals, from your couch! my project bold, Grandly completed, now let all behold! Seize ye your tools; your spades, your shovels ply; The work laid down, accomplish instantly! Strict rule, swift diligence,—these twain The richest recompense obtain. Completion of the greatest work demands One guiding spirit for a thousand hands.

GREAT FORE-COURT OF THE PALACE

Torches

MEPHISTOPHELES (as overseer leading the way)

This way! this way! Come on! come on! Le Lemures, loose of tether, Of tendon, sinew, and of bone, Half natures, patched together!

LEMURES (in chorus)

At thy behest we're here at hand; Thy destined aim half guessing— It is that we a spacious land May win for our possessing. Sharp-pointed stakes we bring with speed, Long chains wherewith to measure. But we've forgotten why indeed To call us was thy pleasure.

MEPHISTOPHELES

No artist-toil we need today: Sufficeth your own measure here: At his full length the tallest let him lay! Ye others round him straight the turf uprear; As for our sires was done of yore, An oblong square delve ye once more. Out of the palace to the narrow home— So at the last the sorry end must come!

LEMURES (digging, with mocking gestures)

In youth when I did live and love, Methought, it was very sweet! Where frolic rang and mirth was rife, Thither still sped my feet. Now with his crutch hath spiteful age Dealt me a blow full sore: I stumbled o'er a yawning grave, Why open stood the door!

FAUST (comes forth from the palace, groping his way by the door posts)

How doth the clang of spades delight my soul! For me my vassals toil, the while Earth with itself they reconcile, The waves within their bounds control, And gird the sea with stedfast zone—

MEPHISTOPHELES (aside)

And yet for us dost work alone, While thou for dam and bulwark carest; Since thus for Neptune thou preparest, The water-fiend, a mighty fête; Before thee naught but ruin lies; The elements are our allies; Onward destruction strides elate.

FAUST

Inspector!

MEPHISTOPHELES

Here.

FAUST

As many as you may, Bring crowds on crowds to labor here; Them by reward and rigor cheer; Persuade, entice, give ample pay! Each day be tidings brought me at what rate The moat extends which here we excavate.

MEPHISTOPHELES (half aloud)

They speak, as if to me they gave Report, not of a moat—but of a grave. *

FAUST

A marsh along the mountain chain Infecteth what's already won; Also the noisome pool to drain— My last, best triumph then were won: To many millions space I thus should give, Though not secure, yet free to toil and live; Green fields and fertile; men, with cattle blent, Upon the newest earth would dwell content, Settled forthwith upon the firm-based hill, Up-lifted by a valiant people's skill; Within, a land like Paradise; outside, E'en to the brink, roars the impetuous tide, And as it gnaws, striving to enter there, All haste, combined, the damage to repair. Yea, to this thought I cling, with virtue rife, Wisdom's last fruit, profoundly true: Freedom alone he earns as well as life, Who day by day must conquer them anew. So girt by danger, childhood bravely here, Youth, manhood, age, shall dwell from year to year; Such busy crowds I fain would see, Upon free soil stand with a people free; Then to the moment might I say; Linger awhile, so fair thou art! Nor can the traces of my earthly day Through ages from the world depart! In the presentiment of such high bliss, The highest moment I enjoy—'tis this.

(FAUST sinks back, the LEMURES lay hold of him and lay him upon the ground.)

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