Part 12

Seest thou the black dog coursing there, through corn and stubble?

WAGNER

Long since: yet deemed him not important in the least.

FAUST

Inspect him close: for what tak’st thou the beast?

WAGNER

Why, for a poodle who has lost his master, And scents about, his track to find.

FAUST

Seest thou the spiral circles, narrowing faster, Which he, approaching, round us seems to wind? A streaming trail of fire, if I see rightly, Follows his path of mystery.

WAGNER

It may be that your eyes deceive you slightly; Naught but a plain black poodle do I see.

FAUST

It seems to me that with enchanted cunning He snares our feet, some future chain to bind.

WAGNER

I see him timidly, in doubt, around us running, Since, in his master’s stead, two strangers doth he find.

FAUST

The circle narrows: he is near!

WAGNER

A dog thou seest, and not a phantom, here! Behold him stop—upon his belly crawl—His tail set wagging: canine habits, all!

FAUST

Come, follow us! Come here, at least!

WAGNER

’Tis the absurdest, drollest beast. Stand still, and you will see him wait; Address him, and he gambols straight; If something’s lost, he’ll quickly bring it,— Your cane, if in the stream you fling it.

FAUST

No doubt you’re right: no trace of mind, I own, Is in the beast: I see but drill, alone.

WAGNER

The dog, when he’s well educated, Is by the wisest tolerated. Yes, he deserves your favor thoroughly,— The clever scholar of the students, he!

(They pass in the city-gate.)