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Sopotent was the charm, that had not God Shielded my humble innocence from wrong,
May scatter thy delusions, and the blot I should have sought my sorrow and my
Appeal to Heaven against thee; so that Heaven
And thou shouldst never- - But, alas!
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
Lisander! father! lord!
A man here! Justina. Have you not seen him? Livia. No, Lady.
Justina. I saw him.
'Tis impossible; the doors Which led to this apartment were all locked.
Livia (aside). I daresay it was Moscon whom she saw,
For he was locked up in my room.
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. Oh would it were Delusion; but I fear some greater ill. I feel as if out of my bleeding bosom My heart was torn in fragments; ay, Some mortal spell is wrought against my frame;
With willing steps.—Livia, quick, bring my cloak,
For I must seek refuge from these
Even in the temple of the highest God
And I will go with
So do I confide
Let us go.
Justina. Thine is the cause, great God! turn for my sake, And for thine own, mercifully to me!
SCENES FROM THE FAUST OF GOETHE
SCENE I.-PROLOGUE IN HEAVEN The LORD and the Host of Heaven. Enter three Archangels.
THE sun makes music as of old
Amid the rival spheres of Heaven, On its predestined circle rolled
With thunder speed: the Angels even Draw strength from gazing on its glance, Though none its meaning fathom may:
The world's unwithered countenance
Had you not long since given over laughing.
Nothing know I to say of suns and worlds;
I observe only how men plague themselves ;
little god o' the world keeps the
As wonderful as on creation's day:
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-legged grasshoppers,
Who flits and jumps about, and sings for ever
The same old song i' the grass. There let him lie,
Burying his nose in every heap of dung. The Lord. Have you no more to say? Do you come here
And make, raging, a chain
Of deepest operation round about.
Chorus. Thy countenance gives the Angels strength,
Though none can comprehend thee:
Are excellent as at the first day.
Such is a literal translation of this astonishing chorus; it is impossible to represent in another language the melody of the versification; even the volatile strength and delicacy of the ideas escape in the crucible of translation, and the reader is surprised to find a caput mortuum.
The full fresh cheeks of youth are food for me,
Always to scold, and cavil, and complain?
Seems nothing ever right to you on And if a corpse knocks, I am not at earth?
Mephistopheles. No, Lord! I find all there, as ever, bad at best. Even I am sorry for man's days of
I could myself almost give up the His spirit from its pleasure 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
Is well aware of the right way.
Enjoy your triumph then with a full
Of plaguing the poor things.
His aspirations bear him on so far
And from the earth the highest joy it Ay;
For I am like a cat-I like to play
dust shall he devour, and that with pleasure,
Yet all things far, and all things near, Like my old paramour, the famous are vain
To calm the deep emotions of his breast. The Lord. Though he now serves me in a cloud of error,
The Lord. Pray come here when it suits you; for I never
much dislike for people of your
I will soon lead him forth to the clear
And, among all the Spirits who rebelled, When trees look green full well the The knave was ever the least tedious gardener knows
active spirit of man soon sleeps,
That fruits and blooms will deck the
He seeks unbroken quiet; therefore I
To lead him softly on my path.
And that is all I ask; for willingly
And the hoar pines already feel her breath:
Shall she not work also within our limbs ?
Mephistopheles. Nothing of such an
influence do I feel.
My body is all wintry, and I wish
Would favour us with your bright company?
Why should you blaze away there to no purpose?
And gives so bad a light, that every step
Pray be so good as light us up this way. Ignis-fatuus. With reverence be it spoken, I will try
To overcome the lightness of my nature;
Mephistopheles. Ha, ha! your worship thinks you have to deal With men. Gostraight on, in the Devil's
Or I shall puff your flickering life out.
I see you are the master of the house;
Precipitate themselves in waterfalls,
The bounds of true and false, are past.
Trees behind trees, row by row,-
Is all enchanted, and if Jack-a-lantern Shows you his way, though you should miss your own,
You ought not to be too exact with him.
FAUST, MEPHISTOPHELES, and IGNIS-
But see how melancholy rises now,
The blank unwelcome round of the red Through the mossy sods and stones,
A rushing throng! A sound of song Beneath the vault of Heaven is blown! Sweet notes of love, the speaking tones Of this bright day, sent down to say That Paradise on Earth is known,
I'll call an Ignis-fatuus to our aid:
Halloo, my friend! may I request that Resound around, beneath, above.
All we hope and all we love
Till all the mountain depths are spangled.
Tell me, shall we go or stay?
Shall we onward? Come along!
Shoots from the lowest gorge of the abyss Of mountains, lightning hitherward : there rise
my skirt, and gain
This pinnacle of isolated crag.
One may observe with wonder from this
Pillars of smoke, here clouds float gently by;
Here the light burns soft as the enkindled air,
Or the illumined dust of golden flowers;
And now bursts forth in fountains from the earth;
And now it winds, one torrent of broad light,
Through the far valley with a hundred veins;
And now once more within that narrow
Mephistopheles. Now vigorously seize Cling tightly to the old ribs of the crag. Beware! for if with them thou
In their fierce flight towards the wilderness,
How Mammon glows among the moun- Their breath will sweep thee into dust,
Thy body to a grave in the abyss.
A melancholy light, like the red dawn,
Hark! how the tempest crashes through the forest!