Part 12

Incubus! Incubus! Step forth! I do adjure thee thus! None of the Four Lurks in the beast: He grins at me, untroubled as before; I have not hurt him in the least. A spell of fear Thou now shalt hear. Art thou, comrade fell, Fugitive from hell?

See then this sign, Before which incline The murky troops of Hell! With bristling hair now doth the creature swell.

Canst thou, reprobate, Read the uncreate, Unspeakable, diffused Throughout the heavenly sphere, Shamefully abused, Transpierced with nail and spear!

Behind the stove, tam'd by my spells, Like an elephant he swells; Wholly now he fills the room, He into mist will melt away. Ascend not to the ceiling! Come, Thyself at the master's feet now lay! Thou seest that mine is no idle threat. With holy fire I will scorch thee yet! Wait not the might That lies in the triple-glowing light! Wait not the might Of all my arts in fullest measure!

MEPHISTOPHELES (As the mist sinks, comes forward from behind the stove, in the dress of a travelling scholar)

Why all this uproar? What's the master's pleasure?

FAUST

This then the kernel of the brute! A travelling scholar? Why I needs must smile.

MEPHISTOPHELES

Your learned reverence humbly I salute! You've made me swelter in a pretty style.

FAUST

Thy name?

MEPHISTOPHELES

The question trifling seems from one, Who it appears the Word doth rate so low; Who, undeluded by mere outward show, To Being's depths would penetrate alone.

FAUST

With gentlemen like you indeed The inward essence from the name we read, As all too plainly it doth appear, When Beelzebub, Destroyer, Liar, meets the ear. Who then art thou?

MEPHISTOPHELES

Part of that power which still Produceth good, whilst ever scheming ill.

FAUST

What hidden mystery in this riddle lies?

MEPHISTOPHELES

The spirit I, which evermore denies! And justly; for whate'er to light is brought Deserves again to be reduced to naught; Then better 'twere that naught should be. Thus all the elements which ye Destruction, Sin, or briefly, Evil, name, As my peculiar element I claim.

FAUST

Thou nam'st thyself a part, and yet a whole I see.

MEPHISTOPHELES

The modest truth I speak to thee. Though folly's microcosm, man, it seems, Himself to be a perfect whole esteems: Part of the part am I, which at the first was all, A part of darkness, which gave birth to light, Proud light, who now his mother would enthrall, Contesting space and ancient rank with night. Yet he succeedeth not, for struggle as he will, To forms material he adhereth still; From them he streameth, them he maketh fair, And still the progress of his beams they check; And so, I trust, when comes the final wreck, Light will, ere long, the doom of matter share.

FAUST

Thy worthy avocation now I guess! Wholesale annihilation won't prevail, So thou'rt beginning on a smaller scale.