The Second

I am called Guilt.

The Third

I am called Care.

The Fourth

Necessity, I.

Three Together (Want, Guilt and Necessity)

The door is shut tight, and we cannot get in:

The owner is rich: he won’t have us within.

Want

I shrink to a shadow.

Guilt

To emptiest space.

Need

The wealthy from me turn their pampered face.

Care

Sisters, you can’t enter, daren’t enter there.

But, through the keyhole now, always slips, Care.

(Care disappears.)

Want

You, my Grey Sisters, take your flight too.

Guilt

Close by your side, I come following you.

Necessity

Close at your heels is Necessity’s breath.

The Three

The clouds there are moving, and cover the stars!

Behind us, behind us! From far, oh, from far,

He’s coming, our Brother, he’s coming, he’s – Death.

Faust (In the Palace.)

I saw four: but only three went away:

I caught no meaning from the words they say.

It sounded as if I heard – ‘Necessity’s breath’,

And then a gloomy rhyming word, like – ‘Death’.

It rang hollow, ghostly, subdued, to me.

Even now I’ve not won my liberty.

If I could banish Sorcery from my track,

Unlearn the magic-spells that draw me back,

And stand before you, Nature, as mere Man,

It would be worth the pain of being Human.

So was I, a seeker in the darkness,

Cursing both self and world, in wickedness.

Now the air is filled with phantom shapes,

It’s hard to see how anyone escapes.

Though day may smile on us with rational gleams,

The night entwines us in a web of dreams:

We come happily from the fields of youth,

A bird croaks: what? Misfortune: is our truth.

Cloaked with superstitions, soon and late:

It’s wedded to us, warns us: shows our fate.

And so, alone, intimidated, we stand.

The door creaks, yet no one is at hand.

(Anxiously.)

Is anyone there?

Care

The answer must be, yes!

Faust

And you, who then are you?

Care

I am your guest.

Faust

Be gone!

Care

I am here, in my proper place.

Faust (First angered, then composed, addressing himself.)

Take care: of magic spells show not a trace.

Care

Though the ear choose not to hear,

In the heart I echo, clear:

Savage power I exercise,

Transformed I am, to mortal eyes.

On the land, and on the ocean,

Evermore the dread companion,

Always found, and never sought,

Praised, as well as cursed, in thought. –

Have you yourself not known Care?

Faust

I sped through the World that’s there:

Gripped by the hair every appetite,

And let go those that failed to delight,

Let those fly that quite escaped me.

I’ve desired, achieved my course,

Desired again, and so, with force,

Stormed through life: first powerfully,

But wisely now: and thoughtfully.

Earth’s sphere’s familiar enough to me,

The view beyond is barred eternally:

The fool who sets his sights up there,

Creates his own likeness in the air!

Let him stand, and look around him well:

This world means something to the capable.

Why does he need to roam eternity!

Let him grasp what is firm reality.

So let him wander down his earthly day:

And if ghosts haunt him, go on his way,

Find joy and suffering in striding on,

Dissatisfied with every hour that’s gone.

Care

When of man I take possession,

Then his whole world is lessened:

Endless gloom meets his eyes,

No more suns will set or rise,

Though intact, to outer sense,

He lives in the dark, intense,

Never knowing how to measure

Any portion of his treasure.

Good and ill are merely chance,

He starves, food in his hands:

Be it joy or be it sorrow

He delays it till tomorrow,

Waiting for the future, ever,

Finding his fulfilment, never.

Faust

Be gone! And don’t come near me!

Such nonsense I’ll not understand.

Away, with your evil litany,

Sent to confuse the cleverest man!

Care

Shall he come, or shall he go?

All decision is denied him:

In the middle of the road,

He staggers, feeling round him.

He’s ever more deeply lost,

Seeing everything star-crossed,

Wearies himself and all the rest,

Stifles as he holds his breath:

Lifeless, but not yet gone under,

Resists despair or surrender.

So, with an incessant rolling,

A painful end, and hard going,

Now free, and now constrained,

In half sleep, poorly entertained,

Confine him in a little space:

Prepare him for Hell’s other place.

Faust

Unholy spectre! So you hand our race

To the ravages of a thousand devils:

Even transform our worthless days

To a wretched knot of entangling evils.

It’s hard I know to free oneself from Demons,

The strong spirit-bonds are not lightly broken:

And yet, Care, I’ll not recognise you, nor even,

That creeping power of yours, by any token.

Care

Feel it now, as on the wind,

I, and my curse, depart, again.

Lifelong, all you men are blind,

Now, Faust, be so to the end!

(She breathes in his face, and departs.)

Faust (Now blind.)

The night seems deeper all around me,

Only within me is there gleaming light:

I must finish what I’ve done, and hurry,

The master’s word alone declares what’s right.

Up from your beds, you slaves! Man on man!

Reveal the daring of my favoured plan.

Seize the tools: on with pick and spade!

Let the end-result be now displayed.

Strict order, and swift industry

Then the finest prize we’ll see:

And so the greatest work may stand,

One mind equal to a thousand hands.

Scene VI: The Great Outer Court of the Palace

(Torches.)

Mephistopheles (In advance, as Overseer.)

Come on! Come on! In here, in here!

Quivering spirits of the dead,

All you patchwork semi-natures,

Sinew, bone, and tendon wed.

The Spirits of the Dead (Lemures, in Chorus.)

Swiftly now we are on hand

With half an impression,

That it concerns a tract of land,

Of which we’ll gain possession.

Pointed stakes with us appear,

Chains to measure ground on:

But why you’ve called us here

Is something we’ve forgotten.

Mephistopheles

Artistic effort’s not the prize:

Carry it out in your own manner!

Lay the longest one of you lengthwise,

Then pile the turf on him, you others.

Do as they once did for our fathers there,

Dig out a somewhat lengthened square!

Gone from a palace to a narrow place:

It’s still as stupid an end for man to face.

The Spirits of the Dead (Digging with mocking gestures.)

When I was young and lived and loved,

I thought it was very sweet:

To happy sounds, and cheerful steps,

I lifted up my feet.

Now treacherous old age has clawed

Me with his crutch, since when

I stumble at the grave’s wide door,

Why do they leave it open!

Faust (Comes from the Palace, groping his way past the doorposts.)

How the clattering of shovels cheers me!

It’s the crews still labouring on,

Till earth is reconciled to man,

The waves accept their boundaries,

And ocean’s bound with iron bands.

Mephistopheles (Aside.)

And yet with all your walls and dams

You’re merely dancing to our tune:

Since you prepare for our Neptune,

The Water-demon, one vast feast.

You’ll be lost in every way –

The elements are ours, today,

And ruin comes on running feet.

Faust

Overseer!

Mephistopheles

Here!

Faust

Any way you can

Bring crowds of labourers together,

Spurred by force or hope of pleasure,

By pay, enticement or press-gang!

Report to me on progress every day,

The depth of earth and gravel dug away.

Mephistopheles (Half-aloud.)

Reporting it to me the word they gave,

Was not quite gravel, it was more like – grave.

Faust

A swamp lies there below the hill,

Infecting everything I’ve done:

My last and greatest act of will

Succeeds when that foul pool is gone.

Let me make room for many a million,

Not wholly secure, but free to work on.

Green fertile fields, where men and herds

May gain swift comfort from the new-made earth.

Quickly settled in those hills’ embrace,

Piled high by a brave, industrious race.

And in the centre here, a Paradise,

Whose boundaries hold back the raging tide,

And though it gnaws to enter in by force,

The common urge unites to halt its course.

Yes, I’ve surrendered to this thought’s insistence,

The last word Wisdom ever has to say:

He only earns his Freedom and Existence,

Who’s forced to win them freshly every day.

Childhood, manhood, age’s vigorous years,

Surrounded by dangers, they’ll spend here.

I wish to gaze again on such a land,

Free earth: where a free race, in freedom, stand.

Then, to the Moment I’d dare say:

‘Stay a while! You are so lovely!’

Through aeons, then, never to fade away

This path of mine through all that’s earthly. –

Anticipating, here, its deep enjoyment,

Now I savour it, that highest moment.

(Faust sinks back, the spirits of the dead take him and lay him on the ground.)

Mephistopheles

No bliss satisfied him, no enjoyment,

And so he tried to catch at shifting forms:

The last, the worst, the emptiest of moments,

He wished to hold at last in his arms.

Though against me he tried to stand,

Time is master: age lies on the sand.

The clock stands still –

Chorus

Stands still! As midnight: silent.

The hand moves.

Mephistopheles

It falls, and all is spent.

Chorus

It’s past.

Mephistopheles

Past! A stupid word.

Then, why?

Past, and pure nothing, complete monotony!

What use is this eternal creation!

Creating, to achieve annihilation!

‘There, it’s past!’ What’s to read in it?

It’s just the same as if it never lived,

Yet chases round in circles, as if it did.

I’d prefer to have the everlasting void.

Burial

A Spirit of the Dead (Solo.)

Who’s built the house so badly,

With shovel and with spade?

Spirits of the Dead (Chorus.)

For you dull guest, in hempen dress,

It was all too carefully made.

A Spirit of the Dead (Solo.)

Who’s decked the hall so badly?

Where now the table and chairs?

Spirits of the Dead (Chorus.)

Borrowed for a little while:

There are many creditors.

Mephistopheles

The body’s here: if the spirit tries to fly,

I’ll show it my blood-signed title swiftly:

Yet men have found so many methods, sadly,

To cheat the Devil of their souls, or try.

We carry on the same old way,

New ones aren’t recommended:

I used to work alone: today

I have to use the help extended.

And everything goes badly too!

Ancient right, traditional use,

One can’t rely on those much longer.

At the last breath, once, the soul was out,

I slipped by, and like the swiftest mouse,

Caught her! Held her fast, my claws were stronger.

Now she lingers, won’t leave the gloomy place,

The foul corpse’s hideous house, until

The elements force her, in hatred still,

And drive her out at last, in disgrace.

And though the hour and minute plague me,

‘When’, ‘how’ and ‘where’, still the tiresome query:

Old Death has lost his ancient power,

‘Whether’ is doubtful, never mind the hour:

Often, with lust, I saw the rigid frame

It was a sham: it stirred, and rose again.

(He makes fantastic, whirling conjuring gestures.)

Now quick! Redouble your paces, too,

You gentlemen, straight or twisted-horned,

The old Devil’s grain and kernel born,

And bring Hell’s jaws along with you.

True Hell has many jaws! Yes, many!

To swallow according to standing and worth:

However in this last game of all we’re ready

To be a little less considerate, henceforth.

(The fearful jaws of Hell open on the left.)

The tusks yawn wide: the jaws of the abyss,

Flow with raging flames, in fury,

And in the boiling background hiss,

I see the eternal glow of the fiery city.

The crimson tide breaks against the teeth,

The damned in hope of help swim through:

But the vast hyena mangles them beneath,

And sends them to new anguish in the brew.

There are many corners to discover,

So many horrors in such little room!

You’ve done quite well at frightening sinners,

But still they think it dream, deceit, untrue.

(To the fat devils with short straight horns.)

Now, you fat-bellied rascals with fiery cheeks!

You’ve grown that way eating hellish sulphur:

Stumpy, short, with thick immoveable necks!

Watch below, for any glow of phosphor:

That’s the soul, Psyche with the wings,

Pluck them off and she’s a nasty worm:

I’ll stamp her with my signature, first thing,

Then off with her to the whirling fiery storm!

Pass on towards the nether regions,

You barrels, since all that’s your duty:

Whether she lives there, that’s the notion,

None know with any accuracy.

She’ll gladly lodge in the navel –

Lest she slip away from there, be careful.

(To the lean devils with long crooked horns.)

You, clowns, you giant flying creatures,

Grasp at the air: grant yourselves no rest!

Your strong arms and sharp-clawed features,

Are sure to hold the fluttering fugitive fast.

She’s stuck there inside her ancient house,

And Spirit will always look for a way out.

(Glory from above, on the right.)