Part 6

How otherwise upon me works this sign! Thou, Spirit of the Earth, art nearer: Even now my powers are loftier, clearer; I glow, as drunk with new-made wine: New strength and heart to meet the world incite me, The woe of earth, the bliss of earth, invite me, And though the shock of storms may smite me, No crash of shipwreck shall have power to fright me! Clouds gather over me— The moon conceals her light— The lamp’s extinguished!— Mists rise,—red, angry rays are darting Around my head!—There falls A horror from the vaulted roof, And seizes me! I feel thy presence, Spirit I invoke! Reveal thyself! Ha! in my heart what rending stroke! With new impulsion My senses heave in this convulsion! I feel thee draw my heart, absorb, exhaust me: Thou must! thou must! and though my life it cost me!

(He seizes the book, and mysteriously pronounces the sign of the Spirit. A ruddy flame flashes: the Spirit appears in the flame.)

SPIRIT

Who calls me?

FAUST (with averted head)

Terrible to see!

SPIRIT

Me hast thou long with might attracted, Long from my sphere thy food exacted, And now—

FAUST

Woe! I endure not thee!

SPIRIT

To view me is thine aspiration, My voice to hear, my countenance to see; Thy powerful yearning moveth me, Here am I!—what mean perturbation Thee, superhuman, shakes? Thy soul’s high calling, where? Where is the breast, which from itself a world did bear, And shaped and cherished—which with joy expanded, To be our peer, with us, the Spirits, banded? Where art thou, Faust, whose voice has pierced to me, Who towards me pressed with all thine energy? He art thou, who, my presence breathing, seeing, Trembles through all the depths of being, A writhing worm, a terror-stricken form?

FAUST

Thee, form of flame, shall I then fear? Yes, I am Faust: I am thy peer!

SPIRIT

In the tides of Life, in Action’s storm, A fluctuant wave, A shuttle free, Birth and the Grave, An eternal sea, A weaving, flowing Life, all-glowing, Thus at Time’s humming loom ’tis my hand prepares The garment of Life which the Deity wears!

FAUST

Thou, who around the wide world wendest, Thou busy Spirit, how near I feel to thee!

SPIRIT

Thou’rt like the Spirit which thou comprehendest, Not me!

(Disappears.)

FAUST (overwhelmed)

Not thee! Whom then? I, image of the Godhead! Not even like thee!

(A knock).

O Death!—I know it—’tis my Famulus! My fairest luck finds no fruition: In all the fullness of my vision The soulless sneak disturbs me thus!

(Enter WAGNER, in dressing-gown and night-cap, a lamp in his hand. FAUST turns impatiently.)

WAGNER

Pardon, I heard your declamation; ’Twas sure an old Greek tragedy you read? In such an art I crave some preparation, Since now it stands one in good stead. I’ve often heard it said, a preacher Might learn, with a comedian for a teacher.