Mr. Faust

FAUST

Splendid! Delightful!

SATAN

You are flattering me.
How did you like it, really?

FAUST

Well, as art
I think it splendid; as philosophy,
I hardly praise it. 'Tis a mood that comes
And has its will of us in its own hours—
Yes, irresistibly. But past the hour
Wait graver judges. I decline to be,
As you suggest delightfully, a fly
On the spoiled beer of life. Nor do I lean
Toward your ingenious blending of despair,
Satiety, and child's-play.

SATAN

Those who take
This attitude, however, swiftly grow
The darlings of existence—souls that sip
Of every flower the nectar, and are bound
Unto no laws or standards, but move free,
Viewing all things as relative.... And yet
Your special temperament may not prefer
Nectar. Those lines of sternness round your mouth
Convince me you are right; another cure
Better befits you. And a mighty one
I set before you, which has ever served
As lodestar for all high and glorious minds,
All kings of earth, all potentates of thought,
All great achievers. Power I offer you—
The one chief prize that all men have desired
And shall desire forever.

FAUST

Now you grow
Rather more interesting. What do you mean?
A crown and sceptre and a thousand slaves
To serve me?

SATAN

Do not jest. I offer you
The one sole reservoir where power to-day
Lies stored in sleeping cataracts. At noon
Come with me into Wall Street; take your stand;
Buy, sell, as I direct you; and one hour
Shall make you richer than you ever dreamed
In madness of desire. For three days more
Come there each noon again; at end of these,
If you have done my bidding, you shall be
Master of the finances of the world,
Despot of nations, unto whom the kings
And captains of the earth shall kneel to crave
Crumbs from the table. Then let pen and sword
Forget their quarrel for supremacy;
Since you can buy them both, or starve them both,
Or cast them to the wilderness! Such power
I offer as would make the pulses beat
Even of a skeleton!

FAUST

But not a soul
Grown sceptical of life. Power? Power? For what?
And over what? And toward what? Not a power
Over myself or pain or loneliness
Or ignorance or evil; not a strength
To bid the near-world cease, and in its place
Instate my visions beautiful and pale,
Nearer the heart's desire. No, you would give
Power to direct the miseries of men,
But not to stay them: power to hold the world
As some cold robber-baron from his rocks
Once held his little valley: power to sit
In ultimate seclusion, and look down
On streets and mines and workshops with the sense
That I was fountain of the miseries
Dark in them all. I thank you; but I think
I should derive small sport from such a game.
You see, I am not Satan.

SATAN

Well, you are
A subtle one, a shrewd one! On my word,
I hardly had suspected you so deep.
What time I have been wasting! Mr. Faust,
At last I know you for a prince of men—
A brilliant mind, a high intelligence,
A spirit incorruptible. The trash,
Baubles and claptrap which the foolish herd
Snatch at, you scoff—and rightly. I will not
With one more word of it insult your mind
That admirably penetrates to deeps
Where I, too, love to dwell. I put aside
All trivialities, and frankly say
That I can offer you one ultimate gift
Fit even for you—a subtle paradise
Such as not Hercules mid Western Isles
Found in the Garden of Hesperides.
It is a paradise of secret peace,
A glorious land of amaranthine bloom;
Where happiness, having fled the world, now dwells
In shining gladness. Guarded, deep, sublime
With lights and shadows, lies it: there have hearts
The weariest and the greatest of mankind
Found perfect refuge and abiding-place
For time and for eternity. To few
Its gates are open: it I promise you
If you but trust me!

FAUST

But why should I trust you?
If history speaks true, you have deceived
All who, since Eve, have put their faith in you.
Further, your paradise could hardly have
Joys in it worth the grasping, to my taste.
So pardon me if frankly I admit
I doubt your promise.

SATAN

Ah, you are wholly wrong!
I am quite honest with you, now having learned
Your true capacity.

FAUST

Perhaps, perhaps.
And yet I must decline.

SATAN

You doubt me still.
But I will prove my utter honesty
Beyond contention. In my deepest soul,
I know this paradise will serve your need;
And to make plain to you my fair intent,
I offer you a bargain whose clear terms
Must drive your doubts away. I am prepared
To pledge myself to be your abject slave
And servant for all time if you yourself
Do not acknowledge that my paradise
Delights you wholly!

FAUST

Well! That is an offer!

SATAN

What could be fairer? You yourself shall judge;
And you risk nothing. Ah, your look still doubts!
You have in mind those libellous poets' tales
Of bonds inscribed in blood which I exact
In payment, and destroy men's souls! My friend,
Have I yet asked you for a bond of blood?
And if I ever do, I give you leave
To wring my neck unceremoniously.

FAUST

Well, for the life of me, I cannot read you!
Yet let me ask: why such an eager will
To serve a man into whose rooms you came
By chance to-night? Why give yourself such pains
To furnish him a paradise?

SATAN

There is
No mystery in that. I would ally
You to myself.

FAUST

Thanks, I decline.

SATAN

You fail
To understand me. For I ask not this
As promise of you.

FAUST

What, then, do you mean?
What do you count on? Whence do you expect
Pay for your trouble and your risk—a risk
Not trivial, I warn you?

SATAN

Let me make
The matter clear to you. I know quite well
The risk is nothing, since my paradise
Will utterly delight you. Granting this,
You see my profit: you will stay with me
Willingly there forever, to my ends
An interested assistant. I will serve
Forth on my tables such delicious fare
That you will freely choose to be my guest
Through time and through eternity. I say:
Fie for a bond written in scrawly blood!
A bond of choice is better. Could a saint
Speak fairer to you? I risk everything,
And you risk nothing but a little time;
And time, as you are placed, seems not so dear
That you need hoard it.

FAUST

But your ends are—what?

SATAN

How can it matter now—if seeing them
You shall approve them?

FAUST

Are you serious?

SATAN

My jests have other aspect.

FAUST

I accept.
Your game is to my taste. For thirty years
Have I made search through all the lands of earth,
The realms of learning, and the tangled groves
Of fancy, for some region which my soul
Might with entire approval view; but none
Has been vouchsafed me. If the Devil can
In this surpass the world's established powers,
Then I am his disciple willingly....
But if you fail, friend Satan!—I shall tie
You to a cart's tail and exhibit you
Like a dead whale throughout the country—or
Make you curator of an orphanage!

SATAN

I shall not fail.

OLDHAM (enters)

I beg your pardon, Faust;
I thought you'd be alone. My brother left,
Not waiting for me; and, as I passed by,
I saw your lights, and thought I would look in
Just for a moment. I had things to say
That are perhaps much better left unsaid.
Good-bye, my dear friend. I will not disturb you.
Good night again.

FAUST

Wait, Oldham; do not go.
I have a visitor whose name you know,
But not, perhaps, his person. Let me have
The pleasure of presenting you. This is
The Devil—Mr. Oldham.

OLDHAM

You are mad!
What jest is this?

SATAN

I am indeed the Devil.
Look in my eyes intently.... Shall I tell you
Your thought, two minutes since?... Or what you hold
Clutched now against your side?... Or where you go
When you go hence to-night?...

OLDHAM

No!... I believe you....
Although it is incredible!...

FAUST

You come
Just at the proper moment for good-bye,
For I am going with him on a journey,
And do not know how soon I shall return.
If I return at all.

OLDHAM

A journey? Where?

SATAN

To paradise.

FAUST

He offers paradise
That will suffice my wish, and gives himself
As pledge of his success.

SATAN

Come, we must haste,
For it is very far.

FAUST

To paradise!...

OLDHAM

To paradise.... Take me with you!

FAUST

My friend,
It is not possible. I do foresee
Some perils to whose touch I would subject
None save myself.

OLDHAM

And what care I for them!
Faust—on my word, when I climbed up your stair
This second time, it was to say good-bye
To you forever, being quite resolved
To end my choking loneliness and loathing
With a quick shot to-night. Take me, or I
Shall carry out my purpose. What care I
Whither you go, or what the perils be?
I would go with you into Hell!

SATAN

We go
To paradise. What is this Hell you name?

CURTAIN

THE SECOND ACT

The scene is the stone-paved courtyard of a ruined temple. In the centre lies a square pool, with wide rows of steps leading down to the water, now overgrown with lotus plants. Around the court rise long colonnades of pillars with grotesquely carven bases and capitals of luxuriant design. Beyond these appear green masses of dense tropical foliage, in which an occasional brilliant flower shines.

Faust, Satan and Oldham, all wearing white tropical dress and sun-helmets, are seated on fragments of fallen columns in front of the pool. Luncheon is spread before them. Oldham is lighting a cigarette; Faust is just finishing his meal; Satan is leaning back, contemplating the surrounding jungle. Two dark-skinned servants, wearing white robes and turbans, are beginning to bear away the repast.

OLDHAM

One's blood beats fuller in these tropic lands.
Last night, as we were dining, where the beach
With its plumed palm-trees sloped to meet the sea,
And the white foam along the glassy waves
Played in the evening light—I half believe
I could have written love-songs. But to whom—
That were a problem!

FAUST

Yes, one's brain is lit
With fire beneath this sun. At night, the glow
Is magical; but at this height of day,
When all the branches and the flowers and rocks
And the far glimmering rivers shake and writhe
In the fierce blaze, I feel a hideous touch
Of madness in it.

SATAN

Keep you to the shade!
This is the pinnacle, the very noon
Of summer in these lands. One hour of sun
Unshaded—and poor Oldham and poor I
Might have a maniac or a corpse as guest.

OLDHAM

I am not sure that I would help you with him.
I might be elsewhere occupied. Last night
I entertained myself with imaging
A project which, if I adopted it,
Would preëngage me.

SATAN

With a single guess,
I'll tell you what it was.

OLDHAM

I give you twenty.

SATAN

You thought perhaps it would be nice to be
The white bull we saw yesterday, and eat
Without reproof from every vender's stall
Throughout the whole bazar; and you intend
Thus to disguise yourself, and try the sport.

OLDHAM

You hit it nearer than I thought you would!
'Twas something like that. I was wondering
If, in this marvellous and lazy clime,
It were not possible for one to take
Twenty young beauties and a hundred slaves—
Retire to some secluded isle of palms—
And live without a thought, a wish, a hope,
Drugged with the warmth, the languor and the light.

FAUST

Possible?—For a rabbit! Not for you.

SATAN

I am afraid you'd find it wearisome.
Some like it; but not your kind.

FAUST

In this heat
Even he grows crazy; and we, Satan, turn
Unsympathetic creatures. Whew, this blaze
Is getting worse! Can't we move on?

SATAN

We go
No farther.

FAUST

Lovely residence!

SATAN

It is here
That our long journey terminates, my friends.
Upon this spot I trust, if all goes well,
To give your long tried patience recompense.

FAUST

Recompense? I am sceptical of it!
But we deserve this. None but idiots
Would have come with you to this boiling land
On a wild-goose chase; on each step of which
One gets a fleeting panoramic view
Of kinds of misery one did not guess
Existed in the world. Those lepers, beggars,
Cripples, fanatics, reptiles—all the swarms
Of loathsome creatures we have passed—will haunt
My dreams forever with new vivid masks
Of nightmare. Recompense? There isn't any!

SATAN

Await the event. You shall have recompense.

OLDHAM

Satan, what is your meaning? What event
Do you await here? You have been to us,
Through our long journey, secretive and close
Of all your purposes—from day to day
Giving no hint of your to-morrow's plan
Nor of our destination. Now, I think,
Silence is not a virtue. Have we come
In fact to our last halt?

SATAN

This is the spot
Toward which our course unswervingly has aimed
Since the first day. This vast and ruined shrine,
Built in forgotten times to unknown gods,
And now in timeless solitude enfolded,
Has long been known to me. Here, in retreat
From the world's noises, dwells a holy man,
A wonder-worker of unfathomed power,
Now long forgotten by the troubled world
Except me only. 'Tis his aged hand
Shall open to you those celestial gates
We come to enter.

FAUST

Ah, a wonder-worker!
Perhaps he will perform the mango trick,
Or the rope-climbing, or the boy-in-the-basket?
The jugglers here have been below report
One hears of them.

SATAN

Put by your idle sneers.
He is a prophet and a saint whose like
The world can offer not. Upon his face
You shall behold such utter holiness,
Such sublimate devotion as shall shake
Your hearts' foundations.

FAUST

Well, I can endure
The meeting if he can.

OLDHAM

Satan, you choose
Sometimes strange company. You often speak
Of friendship with such men of holiness
As much surprises me.

SATAN

If you were but
A little wiser, you would understand
That I have taught them much, at various times,
That is of profit to them.

FAUST

Pray teach me
A little something also.

SATAN

No, you think
You know too much already.... Furthermore,
You do not trust me; and I will not teach
One who keeps restlessly, the whole day long,
His eyes upon me, as though fearful I
Were waiting to spring on him unawares!

FAUST

Oh, you exaggerate.

OLDHAM

Look through yonder palms!
Someone is coming.

SATAN

He sees us! It is he!
[Through the colonnade along the far side of the
courtyard, there enters the Holy One, an aged man
of venerable and sublime appearance, clad in a simple
white robe. In his hand is a large copper bowl, which
he carries with some care.

SATAN

He brings a bowl of water from the spring—
The very bowl I gave him!

OLDHAM

What a face!
What light, what soundless calm!

FAUST

He is, indeed,
One of the ancient prophets....

SATAN

Holy One!
Satan salutes you!

THE HOLY ONE

Satan—come again
After so long? A little longer—then
No carcass of illusion here shall wait
To greet you.

SATAN

In the greatness of the sea
All waves find home....

THE HOLY ONE

Yea, verily; and the deep
Lies not far off. I am drawn nearer it
Since last you came: I see its floods more clear,
It laves me daily.... But what brings you back
To my deserted dwelling from the press
Where you are ever going to and fro
Upon the earth?

SATAN

I came to seek for you,
Whose feet are on the path of blessedness.

THE HOLY ONE

Ah, has illusion rent itself in twain
For your sight also?

SATAN

Ask me not. I come
Not on my mission, but on theirs....

THE HOLY ONE

On theirs!
And who are your companions?

SATAN

Friends, who seek
What you have found.

THE HOLY ONE

They have not in their eyes
Wholly the look of Seekers. Passion lurks
Along their ruddy lips.... And yet, who knows?

FAUST

I offer you our greetings, reverend sir.
A long way have we come to meet with you,
By Satan led.

THE HOLY ONE

And what would you with me?

FAUST

Paradise! Paradise!

THE HOLY ONE

Too hotly spoken!
Go, get you to the dancers of Tanjore....
Paradise!

OLDHAM

You belie us, Faust. Let me
Have speech with him.

Most Holy One, we come,
From lands far off, beyond remotest seas
Of sunset. There, in midst of toil and stress
And clamor, have we dwelt, till weariness
Of all life's gifts impelled us to go forth
To seek if anywhere a region lay
Where happiness still dwelt. To you we turn
As unto one upon whose face is set
The seal of peace such as we dreamed not of.

SATAN

They seek the Way, the Way, most Holy One.

THE HOLY ONE

The Blessed Eightfold Way lies free to all.
I cannot ope it to them. Peace, joy, bliss,
Supernal glory is it to those souls
Who have put by the follies of their birth
And sought its refuge. But though now I stand
With lighted heart upon its blissful path,
I can stretch out no hand to grasp their hands
And draw them toward it.

SATAN

Yet the Blessed One,
In Gaya first enlightened, far and wide
Taught men the Way....

THE HOLY ONE

Aye, verily.... Some mood
Of evil in my heart has closed my mouth
And darkened thus my eyesight. But 'tis gone....
Brethren, have comfort on my frugal stones.
Ask me all ye desire.

SATAN

Most Holy One,
These are my friends; I bring them in sore need
Unto your wisdom. For methinks they stand
Now at the cross-roads where the choice is made
Of truth or vanity. I beg you, tell
Unto their ears how, in your day, you came
To that dark crossing.

THE HOLY ONE

I would do your will
In this, and in all other services,
My brethren.

You must know that in my youth
I was a lusty noble of the realm
Of Jeypore; and the falcon and the sword
And the nautch-dancers and the palace-girls
Were mine to love and master like a lord.
Lordlike I lived; the caskets of the day
And of the night I crowded with bright jewels
Of love and joy and laughter. No desire
Panted unslaked an instant at my doors—
Nay, feasts were spread for it. And poor men gazed
On me with envy, muttering from their dust:
"Behold, the Heavens' darling."...

OLDHAM

Other lands
Know the same tale.

THE HOLY ONE

Aye, aye, all lands. And then
One night, alone in mine own garden walls,
Beneath the piercing stars, I gathered my life
Into my hands, and looked at it, and far
Beyond it at all other mortal lives;
And dust fell from mine eyelids....

For I saw
Birth and desire, satiety and pain,
Recurrent yearning that is never stilled,
Agony, death, rebirth in other forms,
And agony, and desire, and agony.
But nowhere saw I happiness or peace
Or rest from cravings that like vultures tear
The fibres of the heart.

Then wandered I
Forth from my palaces in utter pain,
Seeing the world as dust and vanity,
A desert of despair, a raging sea
Of torment....

SATAN

Now why stops the Holy One?

THE HOLY ONE

It wearies me to speak, and to recall
Those perished years.... Give me to drink.

OLDHAM

He speaks
Out of familiar deeps. Seas sunder us,
But the same stars have cast their ghostly rays
Into our bosoms.

FAUST

And those cloudless eyes
Have seen what we have seen!

THE HOLY ONE

I am refreshed....
Thus long ago, in my most desolate hour,
I was refreshed by draughts from the deep springs
Of light. Beneath a pipal tree I sat
In lost despair; and thither to me came
A pilgrim; and he glanced into mine eyes
With sight that read the sickness of my soul,
And sat beside me, and in measured words
Like far-off song told me this parable:

The Buddha came to where the sea
Curled silver-white upon the land,
And murmurs of infinity
Breathed on the sand.

And there lay shells like rosy foam
Borne from the caverns of the deep,
Frail playthings drifted from the home
Of timeless, tideless sleep.

And on the sand a Fisher stood,
Drying his nets that late had seen
The silent caverns of the flood
And all the wastes between.

The Fisher lingered in his place
With countenance of mild surprise,
And looked upon the Buddha's face
With dumb, uncomprehending eyes.

And Buddha spake: "Thy nets are drawn,
Thy boat rocks idle on the sea,
Thy day turns westward, and is gone....
Come thou with me."

The Fisher marvelled: "I must toil
With nets and shells among the caves,
To win the sea's unwilling spoil
From the harsh waves."

And Buddha answered: "Cast no more
Thy nets upon the troubled sea,
Nor gather shells along the shore.
Come thou with me.

"Thou drawest shells and curious flowers
From out the blue untrodden caves.
Thou seest the passing of the hours.
Thou hearest the clamor of the waves.

"Thou openest the shell where lies
The pearl more white than driven spray—
And trackless past thy vision flies
Each passing day.

"But I will teach thee not to stir
The shell nor flower in its sleep.
For thou shalt roam the sepulchre
That chasms all their native deep.

"And vain desire, like terror grown
Deep in the chambers of thy breast,
Shall be from thee forever flown,
And thou shalt rest.

"No search for pearls shall blind thy thought,
Nor waves, with clamorous harmonies.
But in the silence where is naught
Thou shalt behold the One that is.

"And where the days now speed like foam
Across thy vision, there shall be
For thee a vast eternal home—
An Infinite Sea."

The Fisher looked on Buddha dumb—
Looked deep into that tender gaze—
Those eyes within whose depths had come
And gone the sorrows of all days.

He looked uncomprehendingly,
And wearily he shook his head;
And turned once more to drag the sea,
Knowing not what the Buddha said.

FAUST

The cup again! The Holy One is faint.

OLDHAM

He speaks a miracle!...

THE HOLY ONE

And then I knew
That pilgrim as a saint, whose lips revealed
The glory of the Buddha. I beheld
My life one poisoned network of desire
And fleshly longing and pain-sowing hope—
The evil self seeking its happiness
And shaping horror. And I cast away
Myself, and cried: What am I but a dream,
A wave within the sea, a passing cloud
Upon the radiance of eternity?
All yearning will I slay, and slay therewith
The sorrow that succeeds it!...

So the lust
Of life passed from me; so the narrow I
Merged in the infinite, from hope set free—
Heritor of Nirvana's holy calm,
Wherein the voices of the heart's unrest
Are stifled, and the soul expands to clasp
Joy, nothingness, eternity and peace.

FAUST

Peace.... Peace.... Like bells from upland monasteries
You speak the word that summons us. But where
In peace is room for all once-towering hopes—
Nay, even for the wrecked and prostrate monoliths
That mark those fallen pylons?

THE HOLY ONE

Let the earth,
Ravenous of her young, these too devour,
And dust and nothingness engulf their shapes—
Vain burdens, bitter monuments.

FAUST

And where
Shall I find deeps wherein without a sound
I can extinguish my wild will that leaps
Flamelike to meet the stars?

THE HOLY ONE

In that deep sea
Hid in thy breast. Seek thou that tide of calm,
For it lies there awaiting.

FAUST

Can it be
That life's whole burden may be cast aside
And named as nothing, and its memory
Perish forever? In the summer nights,
Comes there no stealing ecstasy to stir
The old forgotten longings?

THE HOLY ONE

In the night
And in the day, one ecstasy abides
Ceaselessly with the heart that has put off
Desire—one ecstasy of final calm.
All other voices seem harsh clamorings.

OLDHAM

Ah, Holy One, lead me thy way of peace!
For I am weary of my heart's vain wars.
My life is as a desert, where desire
Corrodes me ceaselessly. Instruct my soul
To follow thee home to the gulfs of rest!
That, in renouncement of this bitter will,
It find at last deliverance it has sought.

THE HOLY ONE

My son, thou hast spoken; thou shalt come in time
To that abode. The Buddha's light shall guide
Both thee and me, poor seekers. Bide with me;
And what I know, that shalt thou freely know,
And my peace shall be thy peace....

SATAN

Faust, the gates
Admit one form already.

FAUST

Ah, the gates
Are pearl and silver.... Would that there were space
Within them for such fevered heart as mine—
That with the restlessness of stormy winds
Beats on its barriers!

THE HOLY ONE

There is room for all
Whose souls renounce the world and life and hope
To gain that soundless silence.

OLDHAM

Faust, I feel,
Transfused with light and glory, that deep peace
Awaiting. There shall perish like a flame
The passions which have seared my tortured soul
All my life long. They die; and nothingness
Like a cool flood sweeps over me. Ah, come
Where never storm shall smite!

FAUST

I see the gates;
I see the cool breast of the silvery flood
Of refuge and oblivion.... Fare you well,
Oldham, and light go with you! For I go,
Alas, not with you....

OLDHAM

Faust, Faust, turn not back!
I, who am casting all desires in dust,
To one desire still cling: I long that joy
Of such deliverance fill you as fills me
On this first step of the sublime ascent.

FAUST

I see the light that waits you on the peak;
And my heart follows you. But my stern soul
Plucks me yet back with cold insistency
I cannot master.... Go! If I could pray,
My prayers should follow you. My visions shall;
My love shall fold you. But I cannot come
Where you shall go; I cannot cast aside
All that I surely know—this pitiful
And shattered mortal life, with its strange gleams
And shadows—and embrace the icy void
Where Being trembles on the final verge.
To bid life cease—but linger as the moon
Lingers in heaven—ah, that is horrible
Beyond life's proper horrors!... Were my pain
A single atom greater—were my soul
A single breath more weary—I would come.
But now I must confront the winds of heaven
Still master of my destinies.... To the last,
Not in such tomb-world can my spirit rest.
No golden clouds that throng Nirvana's gates
Shall tempt me there to enter and resign
My right to strain beyond all gates that be....
But you I cannot counsel....

OLDHAM

Me the peace
Already laps with wavelets of the flood.

FAUST

The flood is sundering us.

OLDHAM

Farewell, farewell,
Belovèd friend. I with the Holy One
Henceforth am linked; and grief shall follow me
In what should be your footsteps.

FAUST

Have no grief.
In the vast deeps of life's salt bitter sea
Perhaps awaits my anodyne, to heal
Life's wounds....

OLDHAM

Farewell! I go to paradise.
[Oldham and the Holy One move slowly away together,
pass through the colonnades, and disappear into the
forest. Faust follows with his eyes their retreating figures.

SATAN

You do not know a paradise when you see it!
Some day, when I have time, I'll start a school
To give instruction to great minds like you—
Débutant!

FAUST

Ah, I had forgotten you....
Two men are worth a thousand devils still.

SATAN

I overrated you. Now get you gone
Before I call the savagery that sleeps
Here in the jungle to annihilate you
For your unparalleled stupidity.

FAUST

Stupidity or no, I have one word
Still to say to you, my malicious friend:
To heel!

SATAN

What!

FAUST

Aye, to heel, I say! Crouch down
And follow me, my hound and servitor
From this hour forth!

SATAN

You have grown very witty.
Your wit, however, does not please me.

FAUST

Please you!
There are few things that I desire less.
To heel!

SATAN

What fiends possess you? Ah, I see!
You are still thinking of that wager made,
That jest of ours.

FAUST

I am still thinking of it.

SATAN

You do not mean that now you wish to claim
That forfeit seriously?

FAUST

I mean quite that.

SATAN

What an amazing man you really are!
For your own sake, I tried to offer you
A splendid paradise; I brought you here
At infinite cost and trouble; you have had
An hour of insight and experience
New and instructive to you; your best friend
Has found eternal bliss: and now you turn,
And just because your uttermost crazy whim
Is not quite satisfied with what he grasped
Thankfully, you revert, with sorry taste,
To my old careless generous remarks.
I do not think your friends at home would call it
A sporting attitude.

FAUST

The jungle shakes—
Do you not hear it?—with the stifled, choked
Laughter of leopards, elephants, hyenas,
Rhinoceroses, apes, pythons, and tigers,
Who hear you and are overcome with mirth....
I also laugh with them.

SATAN

Magnanimous
Your laughter sounds! True, you have beaten me,
And I am at your mercy. By some whim,
Trick, technicality, your mind rejects
A noble paradise; and to my pledge
You therefore are entitled. And I stand
Ready to pay it.

FAUST

Ah, at last we have
Acknowledgment of it! Frankness is good
Even for the Devil, Satan.

SATAN

I have been
Frank with you always. And, if to your taste,
I will be franker still. Your stake is won;
You have your triumph: but does it quite fill
The chambers of your heart? Will it suffice
In place of that bright paradise you dreamed
Might be your gain as loser? Ah, my friend,
In copper you have won, but lost in gold!
And victory will not requite for that
Your empty treasury.

FAUST

Not empty quite;
You are too modest.

SATAN

Oh, if you choose, my pledge
Shall be fulfilled, and I will be your dog—
Snarling a little, sometimes—snapping at
Your friends and furniture and lady-loves—
But yet your dog. However, I can do
Better for you than that....

FAUST

Enough! Enough!

SATAN

But hear me! You'll admit, a feather's weight,
A hair's breadth only held you from the gates
That Oldham entered. Almost they sufficed
Your spirit; yes, a moth's wing could have blown
You toward them! 'Twas so nearly I fulfilled
All that I promised. Therefore when I speak,
You will, for justice's sake, concede I am
No absolute bungler, no coarse-palated
Plebeian, as to paradises.

FAUST

No.
I will admit that.

SATAN

Good! Now, I would make
One final offer to you.

Faust, I know
In other regions, beneath other skies,
One haven more, the only one of earth
That can be judged in glory to surpass
This paradise you entered not. My faith
Is absolute that it is to your need
Utterly moulded. Like your heart itself,
Its halls are structured, destinate for you
As perfect refuge. And I say to you:
Give me the leave, and I will lead you there
For one supreme and ultimate trial of choice
That has no doubtful outcome. And my pledge
Shall still be valid! If this refuge gives
Not all that you desire, you still may claim
My service as your slave. Thus do you risk
No atom, but have gain of one last chance
To win the paradise you hunger for!

FAUST

A pleasing logic; but I do not trust
The mind behind it.

SATAN

Trust it, or distrust—
What matter?—when the issue is so plain!

FAUST

Away! Away!

SATAN

Well, if this hope is vain
To urge you, let despair serve in its stead
As roweled spur. For see where now you stand:
The mock of destiny—the man who lost
All joys of the bright many that the world
Cherishes! Aye, and even lost his friend,
His one deep lasting friend—and stood thereafter
Fixed like a donkey.... Though I led you on
From paradise to paradise, and none
Sufficed you—that were surely better sport—
Testing and trying with sublime contempt—
Than finger-twirling! But not thus I lead.
For now you shall, you shall have paradise!

FAUST

Deep in my soul, there is a sense that loathes
Pacts with the Devil. Yet the sanctioned powers
Established in the world have proved them void
And ignorant of paradise.... Where lies it?

SATAN

Follow, and I will lead.

FAUST

A long path?

SATAN

Yes.

FAUST

On! But your bondage waits you at the end.

SATAN

Ah, jester, jester!... Come—give me your hand!

CURTAIN

THE THIRD ACT

The scene is the nave of a great cathedral. Two rows of many-shafted columns stretch back to where, in the far background, rises the elaborate magnificence of the High Altar.

The nave is empty, except for an occasional figure moving at the far end of the long central aisle, and an occasional attendant in sacerdotal robes making ready the Altar.

Faust, entering from the right, and Satan, entering from the left, meet in the foreground. Satan is dressed in the dark robes of a priest.

FAUST

I care not for your masquerade attire;
But let that pass.... Well, I have kept your hour.
And this perhaps is not unfitting place
To make confession that you weary me
A little. In this running to and fro
Over the earth, my inclination tires
Of your companionship. I am resolved,
If three days' time brings forth no new event,
To end this, and reclaim you to obey
My will.

SATAN

I am content; three days will serve.

FAUST

Good! Meanwhile, 'tis at least some recompense
That we return from airy Eastern domes
Glittering in blank sunlight, unto lands
Where men erect their temples to the gods
In forms whose light and shadow, stress and play
Of arch and buttress, satisfies my blood
Better than does barbaric loveliness.
The dome that poises its clear perfect curves
Rising above the palm-trees, with the look
As of a wingèd bubble lightly resting
On needless masonry—that symbolled form
Of heavenly perfection never fills
My heart as do these knotted buttresses
And writhing ribs and vaults that strain in fight—
And are victorious, as they raise to heaven
The climbing spires of such an edifice.

SATAN

Quite right—but if you'll let me interrupt—
There is a woman yonder who, I think,
Is waiting for a chance to speak to you.
She looks at you, and hesitates, and turns—
As though a little fearful to approach
So great a person.

FAUST

Where is she? I see.
I wonder if I know her.

SATAN

She is coming.
[A young woman, hardly more than a girl, comes
from between the pillars and approaches Faust.
Satan withdraws a little as she approaches.

THE WOMAN

I did not want to interrupt your talk;
But, Mr. Faust, I wished so much to speak
To you. You do not know me?

FAUST

Why, it seems...

THE WOMAN

Of course you do not; why should you remember?
But I have seen your face so many times
When you perhaps not noticed me at all,
That I feel half-acquainted. Mr. Brander
Speaks of you, too, so much that I have grown
To think I know you.

FAUST

Ah; yes, Brander....

THE WOMAN

Still
I have not told you who I am, and you
Do not yet know me. I am Mrs. Brander.

FAUST

What! Mrs. Brander! Ah, delighted ... yes....

THE WOMAN

You had not heard that we were married?

FAUST

No.
Of course, I am astounded; it's delightful—
And most surprising.

THE WOMAN

It was very sudden—
While you were gone.

FAUST

I see. Yes, I'm surprised
And charmed. It's strange, at first I could not bring
You to my memory.

THE WOMAN

I don't believe
That you can yet!

FAUST

Why....

THE WOMAN

I don't wonder at it.
I used to whisk about and peer at you
As you came in....

FAUST

Are you then ... then are you ...
Midge?

MIDGE

Yes! exactly.

FAUST

This is very charming.
Now I remember perfectly, of course,
Dear Mrs. Brander! I shall hope to see
Brander himself to-morrow. Give him, please,
My warmest wishes.

MIDGE

We shall hope to see you
In our apartment soon. It's very tiny
And in a quite unfashionable street;
But it looks out across a bit of park
To westward, as I've always hoped it would.
Some days the sunset lights are lovely there.
You must come look at them.

FAUST

Thank you—indeed
I shall be very glad to!

MIDGE

And I know—
How shall I say it?—that you'll think me strange,
And that I cannot ever be your friend
As Mr. Brander is. I know so little—

FAUST

Dear Mrs. Brander!

MIDGE

But I am so eager
That you should give me just a little trial—
I want so much to know you, and so much
He should not lose you....

FAUST

Why, you make me feel
Quite like a monster!

MIDGE

Then you'll come?

FAUST

I'll come!

MIDGE

Good-bye—and don't forget me.
[Midge gives him her hand, and moves away smiling.

FAUST

Well, of all
Impossible, grotesque, outrageous tricks
That Brander could have played upon himself!
Married—the fool, the fool!—And yet she is
Curiously sweet and fresh, that kitchen-maid.

SATAN

Are you quite through?

FAUST

Quite, thank you.... It is strange....
But I forget; you are not interested.
What is it you would say now?

SATAN

I have things
Graver to speak of than admiring ladies
Or Gothic architecture. Here, to-day,
Unto your doubting eyes there shall be made
A revelation of profounder scope
Than aught that life has brought you.

FAUST

The hour strikes
Tardily; I am wearier than I was
When on this trial we entered.

SATAN

You have looked
Askance at me these many days, perplexed
To reconcile the fountains of my will
With my strange acts, and with the dark report
That you have heard concerning me. Dear friend,
Be you not angry, now I say to you
In full confession, that from day to day
I have deceived you: I have hid my face
Even from my friend: I have with doubtful mask
In alien guises tempted you, to try
Your metal. But the hour of trial is past;
The event is sure; and now I ope my heart
And show to you what few of living men
Have guessed—my final secret.

FAUST

Play no tricks.
Before me, Satan; try no mumming game.
If you speak truth, let riddles cloak it not.

SATAN

Listen, and be truth's judge. I am not such
As men esteem me; and my spirit's springs
Rise not from buried and infernal realms,
But like your own, out of the fount of God
They have their being. I, though lowliest far,
Yet am a servant of the House of God—
Deputed to mine office by His hand,
And on His mission.

FAUST

You are trifling with me.

SATAN

I speak the gospel of the living God.

FAUST

Are you not Lord of Evil? God doubtless asks
That service of you?

SATAN

God is infinite,
Likewise His wisdom. His omniscience wills
That I go forth among the haunts of men
And offer evil to their touch. Thereby,
Some spurn me—and the force whereby they spurn
Lifts them up nearer to His arms. Some take
The sin I offer, fall from grace, go down—
And lost in fathomless gulfs of wickedness,
Cry out with utter yearning to His love
That it may save them, and repentant turn
Their prodigal faces toward His doors again,
Never to wander more. But some few souls,
Who neither spurn temptation nor repent
After their fall—these unregenerate
It is mine office wholly to destroy
And cleanse the universe for the praise of God.
Thus does all evil serve His mighty throne,
And all return to Him.

FAUST

I have no power
To take the measure of the words you speak.
Why tell me such things?

SATAN

I would tell you all
And show to you at last your destiny.
The vanities of the world, the woes and sins,
Are but the acid by whose fiery touch
I sort the gold from out the transient brass
And purify and fine it that it be
Worthy God's altar. My belovèd friend,
Such was your trial; thus have I tempted you
With things averse to God, with forms and faiths
Outcast and separate from Him. You have seen
The whole world's vanities; you have come to know
That in this world's illusion is no power
Whose love is refuge: even the living death
Of cold Nirvana frights you. Thus at last,
Knowing that you are powerless, and the world
Bare of salvation for your feebleness,
You stand on this great threshold; and your eyes
That see despair and loneliness shall raise
Their sight to heaven; and peace shall fold you round;
And God, who is our Father, shall be yours.

FAUST

This is not truth! My fevered eyes are weak
To look into this glowing maze of fire
With vision. All the ramparts of the world
Reel round me. I have scoffed God all my days,
Believing pain—your province of the world—
Proof of His non-existence. And you come
Crying His glory, testifying His faith,
Exhorting me to seek Him.... I am lost
Where naught is known to me.