Part 19

A good reply! One only fear still needs repeating: The art is long, the time is fleeting. Then let thyself be taught, say I! Go, league thyself with a poet, Give the rein to his imagination, Then wear the crown, and show it, Of the qualities of his creation,— The courage of the lion’s breed, The wild stag’s speed, The Italian’s fiery blood, The North’s firm fortitude! Let him find for thee the secret tether That binds the Noble and Mean together. And teach thy pulses of youth and pleasure To love by rule, and hate by measure! I’d like, myself, such a one to see: Sir Microcosm his name should be.

FAUST

What am I, then, if ’tis denied my part The crown of all humanity to win me, Whereto yearns every sense within me?

MEPHISTOPHELES

Why, on the whole, thou’rt—what thou art. Set wigs of million curls upon thy head, to raise thee, Wear shoes an ell in height,—the truth betrays thee, And thou remainest—what thou art.

FAUST

I feel, indeed, that I have made the treasure Of human thought and knowledge mine, in vain; And if I now sit down in restful leisure, No fount of newer strength is in my brain: I am no hair’s-breadth more in height, Nor nearer, to the Infinite,

MEPHISTOPHELES

Good Sir, you see the facts precisely As they are seen by each and all. We must arrange them now, more wisely, Before the joys of life shall pall. Why, Zounds! Both hands and feet are, truly— And head and virile forces—thine: Yet all that I indulge in newly, Is’t thence less wholly mine? If I’ve six stallions in my stall, Are not their forces also lent me? I speed along, completest man of all, As though my legs were four-and-twenty. Take hold, then! let reflection rest, And plunge into the world with zest! I say to thee, a speculative wight Is like a beast on moorlands lean, That round and round some fiend misleads to evil plight, While all about lie pastures fresh and green.

FAUST

Then how shall we begin?

MEPHISTOPHELES

We’ll try a wider sphere. What place of martyrdom is here! Is’t life, I ask, is’t even prudence, To bore thyself and bore the students? Let Neighbor Paunch to that attend! Why plague thyself with threshing straw forever? The best thou learnest, in the end Thou dar’st not tell the youngsters—never! I hear one’s footsteps, hither steering.

FAUST To see him now I have no heart.

MEPHISTOPHELES

So long the poor boy waits a hearing, He must not unconsoled depart. Thy cap and mantle straightway lend me! I’ll play the comedy with art.

(He disguises himself.)

My wits, be certain, will befriend me. But fifteen minutes’ time is all I need; For our fine trip, meanwhile, prepare thyself with speed!

MEPHISTOPHELES

(In FAUST’S long mantle.)

Reason and Knowledge only thou despise, The highest strength in man that lies! Let but the Lying Spirit bind thee With magic works and shows that blind thee, And I shall have thee fast and sure!— Fate such a bold, untrammelled spirit gave him, As forwards, onwards, ever must endure; Whose over-hasty impulse drave him Past earthly joys he might secure. Dragged through the wildest life, will I enslave him, Through flat and stale indifference; With struggling, chilling, checking, so deprave him That, to his hot, insatiate sense, The dream of drink shall mock, but never lave him: Refreshment shall his lips in vain implore— Had he not made himself the Devil’s, naught could save him, Still were he lost forevermore!

(A STUDENT enters.)

STUDENT

A short time, only, am I here, And come, devoted and sincere, To greet and know the man of fame, Whom men to me with reverence name.

MEPHISTOPHELES

Your courtesy doth flatter me: You see a man, as others be. Have you, perchance, elsewhere begun?

STUDENT

Receive me now, I pray, as one Who comes to you with courage good, Somewhat of cash, and healthy blood: My mother was hardly willing to let me; But knowledge worth having I fain would get me.