The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries, Volume 01 · Chapter 80Blame
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There cease I to be.
His visage the pampered still turneth from me.
Ye sisters, ye cannot, ye dare not go in; But Care through the key-hole an entrance may win. [CARE disappears.]
Sisters, gray sisters, away let us glide!
I bind myself to thee, quite close to thy side.
And Need at your heels doth with yours blend her breath.[35]
Fast gather the clouds, they eclipse star on star. Behind there, behind, from afar, from afar, There comes he, our brother, there cometh he— Death.
FAUST (in the palace)
Four saw I come, but only three went hence. Of their discourse I could not catch the sense; There fell upon mine ear a sound like breath, Thereon a gloomy rhyme-word followed—Death; Hollow the sound, with spectral horror fraught! Not yet have I, in sooth, my freedom wrought; Could I my pathway but from magic free, And quite unlearn the spells of sorcery, Stood I, oh nature, man alone 'fore thee, Then were it worth the trouble man to be! Such was I once, ere I in darkness sought, And curses dire, through words with error fraught, Upon myself and on the world have brought; So teems the air with falsehood's juggling brood, That no one knows how them he may elude! If but one day shines clear, in reason's light— In spectral dream envelopes us the night; From the fresh fields, as homeward we advance— There croaks a bird: what croaks he? some mischance! Ensnared by superstition, soon and late; As sign and portent, it on us doth wait— By fear unmanned, we take our stand alone; The portal creaks, and no one enters,—none.
(Agitated)
Is some one here?
The question prompteth, yes!
What art thou then?
Here, once for all, am I.
Withdraw thyself!
My proper place is this.
FAUST (first angry, then appeased. Aside)
Take heed, and speak no word of sorcery.
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?
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!
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.