Faust Part 15

Why heat thyself, thus instantly, With eloquence exaggerated?

Each leaf for such a pact is good; And to subscribe thy name thou'lt take a drop of blood.

FAUST

If thou therewith art fully satisfied, So let us by the farce abide.

MEPHISTOPHELES

Blood is a juice of rarest quality.

FAUST

Fear not that I this pact shall seek to sever?

The promise that I make to thee Is just the sum of my endeavor.

I have myself inflated all too high; My proper place is thy estate: The Mighty Spirit deigns me no reply, And Nature shuts on me her gate.

The thread of Thought at last is broken, And knowledge brings disgust unspoken.

Let us the sensual deeps explore, To quench the fervors of glowing pa.s.sion!

Let every marvel take form and fas.h.i.+on Through the impervious veil it wore!

Plunge we in Time's tumultuous dance, In the rush and roll of Circ.u.mstance!

Then may delight and distress, And worry and success, Alternately follow, as best they can: Restless activity proves the man!

MEPHISTOPHELES

For you no bound, no term is set.

Whether you everywhere be trying, Or s.n.a.t.c.h a rapid bliss in flying, May it agree with you, what you get!

Only fall to, and show no timid balking.

FAUST

But thou hast heard, 'tis not of joy we're talking.

I take the wildering whirl, enjoyment's keenest pain, Enamored hate, exhilarant disdain.

My bosom, of its thirst for knowledge sated, Shall not, henceforth, from any pang be wrested, And all of life for all mankind created Shall be within mine inmost being tested: The highest, lowest forms my soul shall borrow, Shall heap upon itself their bliss and sorrow, And thus, my own sole self to all their selves expanded, I too, at last, shall with them all be stranded!

MEPHISTOPHELES

Believe me, who for many a thousand year The same tough meat have chewed and tested, That from the cradle to the bier No man the ancient leaven has digested!

Trust one of us, this Whole supernal Is made but for a G.o.d's delight!

He dwells in splendor single and eternal, But us he thrusts in darkness, out of sight, And you he dowers with Day and Night.

FAUST

Nay, but I will!

MEPHISTOPHELES

A good reply!

One only fear still needs repeating: The art is long, the time is fleeting.

Then let thyself be taught, say I!

Go, league thyself with a poet, Give the rein to his imagination, Then wear the crown, and show it, Of the qualities of his creation,- The courage of the lion's breed, The wild stag's speed, The Italian's fiery blood, The North's firm fort.i.tude!

Let him find for thee the secret tether That binds the n.o.ble and Mean together.

And teach thy pulses of youth and pleasure To love by rule, and hate by measure!

I'd like, myself, such a one to see: Sir Microcosm his name should be.

FAUST

What am I, then, if 'tis denied my part The crown of all humanity to win me, Whereto yearns every sense within me?

MEPHISTOPHELES

Why, on the whole, thou'rt-what thou art.

Set wigs of million curls upon thy head, to raise thee, Wear shoes an ell in height,-the truth betrays thee, And thou remainest-what thou art.

FAUST

I feel, indeed, that I have made the treasure Of human thought and knowledge mine, in vain; And if I now sit down in restful leisure, No fount of newer strength is in my brain: I am no hair's-breadth more in height, Nor nearer, to the Infinite,

MEPHISTOPHELES

Good Sir, you see the facts precisely As they are seen by each and all.

We must arrange them now, more wisely, Before the joys of life shall pall.

Why, Zounds! Both hands and feet are, truly- And head and virile forces-thine: Yet all that I indulge in newly, Is't thence less wholly mine?

If I've six stallions in my stall, Are not their forces also lent me?

I speed along, completest man of all, As though my legs were four-and-twenty.

Take hold, then! let reflection rest, And plunge into the world with zest!

I say to thee, a speculative wight Is like a beast on moorlands lean, That round and round some fiend misleads to evil plight, While all about lie pastures fresh and green.

FAUST

Then how shall we begin?

MEPHISTOPHELES

We'll try a wider sphere.

What place of martyrdom is here!

Is't life, I ask, is't even prudence, To bore thyself and bore the students?

Let Neighbor Paunch to that attend!

Why plague thyself with thres.h.i.+ng straw forever?

The best thou learnest, in the end Thou dar'st not tell the youngsters-never!

I hear one's footsteps, hither steering.

FAUST To see him now I have no heart.

MEPHISTOPHELES

So long the poor boy waits a hearing, He must not unconsoled depart.

Thy cap and mantle straightway lend me!

I'll play the comedy with art.