The owls fly out in strange The owl was awake in the white moon Over each other crack and crash they all The airs hiss and howl It is not the voice of the fountain, Strange accents are ringing The witches are singing! The stubble is yellow, the corn is green, Now to the Brocken the witches go; The mighty multitude here may be seen Gathering, wizard and witch, below. Sir Urian is sitting aloft in the air; Hey over stock! and hey over stone! 'Twixt witches and incubi, what shall be done? Tell it who dare! tell it who dare! A Voice. Upon a sow-swine, whose farrows were Come with us, come with us, from I have been tripping this many an Something attracts me in those bushes. hour: Are the others already so far before? Chorus of Witches. Come This way we shall slip down there in a minute. Faust. Spirit of Contradiction! Well, lead on Come onward, away! aroint thee, 'Twere a wise feat indeed to wander aroint! anoint out A witch to be strong must anoint- Into the Brocken upon May-day night, And then to isolate oneself in scorn, Disgusted with the humours of the Then every trough will be boat enough; With a rag for a sail we can sweep through the sky, Who flies not to-night, when means he to fly? Both Choruses. We cling to the skirt, and we strike on the ground; Witch legions thicken around and around; Wizard-swarms cover the heath all over. [They descend. Mephistopheles. What thronging, dashing, raging, rustling; time. Mephistopheles. See yonder, round a many-coloured flame A merry club is huddled altogether: One would not be alone. Would that I were Up yonder in the glow and whirling smoke, Where the blind million rush impetuously To meet the evil ones; there might I solve What whispering, babbling, hissing, Many a riddle that torments me! bustling; Mephistopheles. What glimmering, spurting, stinking, Many a riddle there is tied anew burning, As Heaven and Earth were overturning. Inextricably. rage! Yet Let the great world We will stay here safe in the quiet dwell- I could not, if I would, mask myself ings. 'Tis an old custom. built here. Men have ever Come now, we'll go about from fire to fire: Their own small world in the great world I'll be the pimp, and you shall be the of all. I see young witches naked there, and old ones Wisely attired with greater decency. Be guided now by me, and you shall buy lover. [To some old Women, who are sitting round a heap of glimmering coals. Old gentlewomen, what do you do out here? You ought to be with the young rioters A pound of pleasure with a dram of Right in the thickest of the revelry— The character of wizard or of devil? But every one is best content at home. We too are active, and we did and do Mephistopheles. In truth, I generally What we ought not, perhaps; and yet go about In strict incognito; and yet one likes we now Will seize, whilst all things are whirled round and round, I have no ribbon at my knee; but A spoke of Fortune's wheel, and keep To write what none will read, therefore will I To please the young and thoughtless people try. Beware of her fair hair, for she excels Mephistopheles (who at once appears to have grown very old). I find the people ripe for the last day, Since I last came up to the wizard She will not ever set him free again. No sword which cuts the bond it cannot With you I feel that if required, is past, Such still within my garden grow. That ghosts move not on ordinary feet? They shape themselves into the innova- But these are dancing just like men and There are few things that scandalise Who sang so sweetly to you in the him not: And when you whirl round in the circle now, dance? Faust. A red mouse in the middle of her singing As he went round the wheel in his old Sprang from her mouth. mill, He says that you go wrong in all respects, Especially if you congratulate him Fly! Procto-Phantasmist. Vanish! Unheard-of impudence! What, still there! In this enlightened age too, since you have been Mephistopheles. right, my friend: That was all Be it enough that the mouse was not Seest thou not a pale, Fair girl, standing alone, far, far away? Proved not to exist!-But this infernal She drags herself now forward with slow steps, brood Will hear no reason and endure no rule. And seems as if she moved with shackled Are we so wise, and is the pond still haunted? How long have I been sweeping out this rubbish Of superstition, and the world will not case Unheard of! The Girl. teasing us so. No good can come of it—it is not well To meet it-it is an enchanted phantom, A lifeless idol; with its numbing look, Then leave off It freezes up the blood of man; and they Who meet its ghastly stare are turned Cures him of spirits and the spirit to- My looks from her sweet piteous coun tenance. gether. [To FAUST, who has seceded from How strangely does a single blood-red the dance. line, Why do you let that fair girl pass from Not broader than the sharp edge of a knife, you, |