THE
SECOND STUDY SCENE from FAUST rendered into English verse by M.
Scrivener
Faust
returns to his study with the poodle. He attempts to start
translating St John's gospel but the poodle changes form. Faust tries
to make it reveal its true form and it emerges as Mephistopheles.
After some discussion in which Mephistopheles reveals his nature,
he lulls Faust to sleep with the aid of his illusion-making spirits
and escapes. The
Word or Logos at the beginning of John's gospel is a complex
metaphysical concept but it is something like a macrocosmic
equivalent to what language and reason are in humans (conceived as
creative divine world mind but also with creative vibration and
forming power). From this Faust goes down to a more soul level with
"sense" and then to life power with "force" and
finally the physical world with "deed". The
elementals Faust mentions are thought of as beings and powers living
"behind" the sense world of nature in hidden formative life
forces. Kobolts or gnomes relate to earth, undines to water, sylphs
to air and light and salamanders (not the creature) to fire and
warmth. Note-
these are traditional ideas relating to the text, I'm not arguing for
their reality or otherwise- at any rate they can be considered
metaphorical in relation to the play. Faust is, after all, a medieval
scholar.
Faust and Mephistopheles- illustration Harry Clarke 1925
STUDY
FAUST (ENTERING WITH POODLE)
I have forsaken field and meadow,
All sheltered in a deep night-shadow;
With sacred and foreboding awe,
Our better soul wakes in our core.
Wild impulses are sleeping, cooled
Like all impetuous action's power;
By love of humankind we're ruled,
The love of God reigns in us now.
Be quiet poodle! Don’t run everywhere.
Why sniff the threshold, as you do?
Lie down behind the oven there,
And my best cushion I'll give you.
When outside on the hillside way
Through running and leaping you pleased us best,
So now accept my care and stay
Here as a quiet and welcome guest.
Ah, when within my narrow cell
The friendly lamp glow burns once more,
It grows bright in my breast as well,
Within the heart that knows its core.
Then once more reason starts to speak,
Then once more hope begins to flower;
You yearn to reach life’s streams, to seek
The very wellspring of life’s power.
Stop growling, poodle! For the sacred tones,
That now encompass my whole soul,
Do not accord with such a brutish howl.
I know how many people mock and moan,
Reject whatever they've not understood;
And mutter much about the fair and good,
So often finding them a burden… but must you,
A dog, start growling at them too?
Oh! But already now, with my best will,
Contentment flows no longer from heart’s fill.
Why must the stream run dry so quickly, then
Leave us to lie in thirst again?
I’ve been through this so many times,
And yet this want is answered- for we learn
To prize the super-earthly, and we yearn,
We long for revelation’s signs,
Which nowhere fairer flame, with worth expressed,
Than in the gospel’s words. I sense a call
To open up this ancient text;
With honest feeling now to reach
And take the sacred, great original
And set it down in my loved native speech. .
(HE OPENS A GREAT VOLUME AND PREPARES TO WRITE)
It is written: “ In the beginning was the Word!”
I stop already. Who can help me forward?
I cannot make the word so high a prize,
I must translate this otherwise,
If right-illumined by the spirit- hence
It is written: “ In the beginning was the Sense.”
Consider well this first line’s taste;
Your pen must not run on with too much haste.
Does sense create all things and weave their course?
It ought to stand: “ In the beginning was the Force.”
Yet even as I write these words down too,
Already something warns me they won’t do.
Now spirit helps. It shows me what I need;
With confidence I write: “In the beginning was the Deed.”
If we’re to share this room at all,
Poodle, you must not howl
You must not bark!
Such troubling friends, let me remark,
Are not allowed to stay so near.
One of us, you hear,
Has to go, it’s clear.
I fear you are not welcome any more.
You’re free to go. There’s the open door.
But what is this I see?
Can this be so? How can this be?
Is this reality
Or are these shadow dreams?
How long and broad my poodle seems.
How powerfully he rises up.
That is not a canine shape!
What ghost have I brought to the house!
He now looks like a river horse!
With fiery eyes, with terrifying teeth
Oh! Now I see through your false sheath!
With such half-hellish spawn the key
Of Solomon gives mastery.
SPIRITS (IN THE CORRIDOR OUTSIDE)
One is imprisoned within!
Stay outside, don’t follow him.
Like a fox in a snare,
One old hell lynx trembles there.
But now, give heed!
Hover, floating to and fro,\
High and low;
And he'll get out and be freed.
Help where it’s fitting,
Don’t leave him sitting!
For favours did fall
From him for us all.
FAUST
First, to counter this beast’s core,
I need the Spell of Four:
Salamander shall shine.
Undine weave here,
Sylph disappear,
Kobolt toil and mine.
Those who don’t know
The elements’ flow,
All their forces
And their resources,
Won’t master fleeing,
Spiritual being.
Vanish in flaming glow,
Salamander!
Rush together, smoothly flow,
Undine!
Shine with meteor-fair gleam,
Sylph!
Bring homely helpfulness,
Incubus! Incubus!
Step forward and end this address.
None of the four
Hides in its core,
It lies quite calmly and grins at me,
I haven’t hurt it yet I see,
Hear stronger teachers’
Conjuring speeches.
Are you, come tell,
A fugitive from hell?
Then see this sign
That makes malign
Black legions bow.
The hair is bristling: it’s swelling now.
Accursed, base being
Are you not seeing
The never-begotten,
Unutterable
One permeating all heaven,
Pierced by mankind’s evil?
There behind the stove, still pent,
Swelling like an elephant,
It fills the whole space. Now it's willing
To melt in mist and so retreat.
Don't rise up to the ceiling!
Lay down at your master’s feet.
You'll see that I don’t threaten in vain.
I’ll singe you now with sacred flame.
Don’t wait to fight
The threefold, dazzling light!
Don’t wait to fight
The strongest art that I’ve at hand!
THE MIST CLEARS AND MEPHISTOPHELES
STEPS FORTH FROM BEHIND THE OVEN,
DRESSED AS A TRAVELLING SCHOLAR
MEPHISTOPHELES
Why all the noise? What does my lord command?
FAUST
So this was the kernel of the cur!
A travelling scholar , the casus makes me laugh.
MEPHISTOPHELES
I must salute you, greatly learned sir
You didn’t make me sweat by half.
FAUST
What are you called?
MEPHISTOPHELES
That question seems so small
For one who scorns the word so much; who’s fleeing
So far from mere appearance, all
His striving works towards depths of being.
FAUST
With sirs like you the being’s aim
Is mostly read out from the name.
And it is all too plainly shown
When you’re called lord of flies, destroyer, lying one.
All right- who are you then?
MEPHISTOPHELES A part of the power that would
Will ever for the bad and ever makes the good.
FAUST
What meaning do these riddling words disguise?
MEPHISTOPHELES
I am the spirit that ever denies!
And rightly so, for all that is created
Deserves to be annihilated.
It would be best if it could not begin.
So everything, what you call sin,
Destruction too- in short, where evil’s meant,
I’m in my own true element.
FAUST
You say you’re part, yet stand before me whole?
MEPHISTOPHELES
The modest truth is all I've told.
Though man, that microcosmic fool, well might,
As usual, just deem himself a whole,
I’m part of that great part that to begin was all:
Part of the dark that from itself gave birth to light;
Imperious light that now competes for space,
Disputing mother night’s old place;
Yet can’t succeed. No matter how it strives, it will
Remain enchained to bodies still.
It streams from bodies, makes them beautiful,
And other bodies block its way,
And so I hope soon comes the day
When it and bodies to destruction fall.
FAUST
So now I know your worthy duty!
You can’t destroy a lot of booty,
So you will start on something small.
MEPHISTOPHELES
And frankly little is done that way at all.
Yes, that which sets itself against the Nothing,
This clumsy universe, this Something,
As much as I’ve already tried,
Just how to harm it leaves me mystified.
Though flame, storm, wave, and rain I send,
The sea and land stay peaceful in the end.
That brood of beasts and men, that damned stuff of creation,
You cannot do it any harm:
How much already I’ve put down!
And always fresh, new blood returns to circulation.
Enough to drive one crazy with despair!
From earth, from water, and from the air,
A thousand fertile seeds are sown;
In dry and damp, in warm and cold.
And if I’d not reserved the flame of old,
I’d now have nothing for my own.
FAUST
So you oppose the ever-moving,
The curative, creative might,
The icy devil’s fist thus choosing
To clench in vain, malicious spite.
You should start trying something new,
Oh, ancient, chaos’ strange son.
MEPHISTOPHELES
We’ll really have to think that through-
So more next time we meet! May one
Take one’s good leave this time and go?
FAUST
I don’t see why you’re asking me.
I’ve made your strange acquaintance, so
Come visit as you will- feel free.
Here is the window, there’s the door,
The chimney too is on display.
MEPHISTOPHELES
I must say I’d have strolled out long before
Had not a tiny hindrance blocked my way:
The witch’s foot, your threshold spell.
FAUST
The pentagram there gives you pain?
Now tell me this, you son of hell,
If it bars you then how did you get in?
Yes, how was such a spirit cheated?
MEPHISTOPHELES
Observe with care. It isn’t quite completed.
One angle-tip, out-facing from my view,
Is, as you see, just opened out a bit.
FAUST
That was an excellent, chance hit!
So you’re my prisoner now, are you?
A lucky accident, it would appear.
MEPHISTOPHELES
The poodle noticed nothing as he bounced in here.
But now the thing is turned about:
The devil finds he can’t get out.
FAUST
Yet why not use the window’s way?
MEPHISTOPHELES
It is a law that fiends and ghosts obey:
Where we’ve slipped in, that’s where we must go out.
We’re free to choose the first, by the second we are bound.
FAUST
In hell itself then rules are found?
That’s good, for it would let one make a sure
And binding pact with gentlemen like you.
MEPHISTOPHELES
What’s promised you’ll taste fully, for
You’ll not be cheated of one thing you’re due.
Yet that’s not fixed with so much speed;
We shall discuss it presently.
But now I beg you urgently,
For this one time let me be freed.
FAUST
Just stay a moment longer in this room
And give some good report or news.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Now let me go! I shall return quite soon,
Then you may ask whatever you may choose.
FAUST
I didn’t trip this trap for you;
You strolled into the snare yourself
With devil held, you hold like glue!
He won’t be caught a second time without much stealth.
MEPHISTOPHELES
If it’s your pleasure, I’m prepared to stay,
To stay here too as company;
But on condition my art’s way
May pass time’s passing worthily.
FAUST
I’ll view it gladly. So be free;
But see your art works pleasingly.
MEPHISTOPHELES
You’ll gain more for your senses, friend,
Before this hour comes to an end,
Than in a year’s monotony.
For what the tender spirits sing,
The beautiful pictures that they bring,
Are not an empty magic’s sway.
For they’ll entrance your sense of smell,
Your palate please by their rare play,
Your touch enrapture by their spell.
No preparation’s needed then-
We are together, now begin!
SPIRITS
Vanish, you dark
Arches above!
Let the blue sky
Look in from high
With friendly love!
Would that the darkling
Clouds would all go!
Small stars are sparkling,
Milder suns glow,
Shine from above.
Wavering ones,
Spirit of beauty’s
Heavenly sons,
Bending down, hover,
Go floating over.
Yearning affection
Trails their direction;
And their out-flowing
Robes, ribbons blowing,
Over lands going,
Cover the arbours,
Where, deep in thought,
Lovers incline,
Pledging life’s course.
Arbour on arbour!
Sprouting of vine!
Grapes in most massive
Bunches go tumbling
Into the vats of
Crowded wine presses;
Wines fall and foam,
Rush in small rivers,
Rippling though pure,
Precious, clear stones,
Leaving heights lying,
Back there recumbent,
Broaden to lakes
Round the abundant,
Green-covered hills.
Wild fowl there will
Sip in delight,
Take sunward flight,
Fly towards the bright
Islands which seem
Rocking on billows,
Stirring in dream.
There, where before us,
Joyously chorus
Those whose dance wheels
Over the fields;
All of them scatter,
Free, without fetter.
Some of them climb
Over the peaks,
Some of them swim
Over the lakes,
More float in air-
All toward life there,
All toward far sight
Of loving starlight,
Most blissful grace.
MEPHISTOPHELES
He sleeps! Well done- soft, airy youths, your number
Have truly sung him into slumber.
I am indebted for this concert’s grace.
You are not yet the man to hold the devil fast.
Play-weave about with sweet dream figures, pass
Him down into an ocean of illusion.
To break this threshold’s magic cast
I need a rat’s tooth. And for this collusion
I shall not need to conjure long;
One’s rustling near and straight away will hear my song.
The lord of rats and busy mice,
Of blowflies, bedbugs, frogs and lice,
Now orders you to venture near
And gnaw into the threshold here
Where I have dotted it with oil-
You hop already to despoil!
Now straight to work! The tip that bans my kind
Is furthest from me, past that line.
Just one more bite, the work is done-
Now, Faust, until we meet again, dream on.
FAUST (AWAKENING)
Have I been tricked once more ? So does it seem
That this now-vanished spirit company
Just spun a fancied devil from false dreams,
And here a poodle simply fled from me?
FAUST (ENTERING WITH POODLE)
I have forsaken field and meadow,
All sheltered in a deep night-shadow;
With sacred and foreboding awe,
Our better soul wakes in our core.
Wild impulses are sleeping, cooled
Like all impetuous action's power;
By love of humankind we're ruled,
The love of God reigns in us now.
Be quiet poodle! Don’t run everywhere.
Why sniff the threshold, as you do?
Lie down behind the oven there,
And my best cushion I'll give you.
When outside on the hillside way
Through running and leaping you pleased us best,
So now accept my care and stay
Here as a quiet and welcome guest.
Ah, when within my narrow cell
The friendly lamp glow burns once more,
It grows bright in my breast as well,
Within the heart that knows its core.
Then once more reason starts to speak,
Then once more hope begins to flower;
You yearn to reach life’s streams, to seek
The very wellspring of life’s power.
Stop growling, poodle! For the sacred tones,
That now encompass my whole soul,
Do not accord with such a brutish howl.
I know how many people mock and moan,
Reject whatever they've not understood;
And mutter much about the fair and good,
So often finding them a burden… but must you,
A dog, start growling at them too?
Oh! But already now, with my best will,
Contentment flows no longer from heart’s fill.
Why must the stream run dry so quickly, then
Leave us to lie in thirst again?
I’ve been through this so many times,
And yet this want is answered- for we learn
To prize the super-earthly, and we yearn,
We long for revelation’s signs,
Which nowhere fairer flame, with worth expressed,
Than in the gospel’s words. I sense a call
To open up this ancient text;
With honest feeling now to reach
And take the sacred, great original
And set it down in my loved native speech. .
(HE OPENS A GREAT VOLUME AND PREPARES TO WRITE)
It is written: “ In the beginning was the Word!”
I stop already. Who can help me forward?
I cannot make the word so high a prize,
I must translate this otherwise,
If right-illumined by the spirit- hence
It is written: “ In the beginning was the Sense.”
Consider well this first line’s taste;
Your pen must not run on with too much haste.
Does sense create all things and weave their course?
It ought to stand: “ In the beginning was the Force.”
Yet even as I write these words down too,
Already something warns me they won’t do.
Now spirit helps. It shows me what I need;
With confidence I write: “In the beginning was the Deed.”
If we’re to share this room at all,
Poodle, you must not howl
You must not bark!
Such troubling friends, let me remark,
Are not allowed to stay so near.
One of us, you hear,
Has to go, it’s clear.
I fear you are not welcome any more.
You’re free to go. There’s the open door.
But what is this I see?
Can this be so? How can this be?
Is this reality
Or are these shadow dreams?
How long and broad my poodle seems.
How powerfully he rises up.
That is not a canine shape!
What ghost have I brought to the house!
He now looks like a river horse!
With fiery eyes, with terrifying teeth
Oh! Now I see through your false sheath!
With such half-hellish spawn the key
Of Solomon gives mastery.
SPIRITS (IN THE CORRIDOR OUTSIDE)
One is imprisoned within!
Stay outside, don’t follow him.
Like a fox in a snare,
One old hell lynx trembles there.
But now, give heed!
Hover, floating to and fro,\
High and low;
And he'll get out and be freed.
Help where it’s fitting,
Don’t leave him sitting!
For favours did fall
From him for us all.
FAUST
First, to counter this beast’s core,
I need the Spell of Four:
Salamander shall shine.
Undine weave here,
Sylph disappear,
Kobolt toil and mine.
Those who don’t know
The elements’ flow,
All their forces
And their resources,
Won’t master fleeing,
Spiritual being.
Vanish in flaming glow,
Salamander!
Rush together, smoothly flow,
Undine!
Shine with meteor-fair gleam,
Sylph!
Bring homely helpfulness,
Incubus! Incubus!
Step forward and end this address.
None of the four
Hides in its core,
It lies quite calmly and grins at me,
I haven’t hurt it yet I see,
Hear stronger teachers’
Conjuring speeches.
Are you, come tell,
A fugitive from hell?
Then see this sign
That makes malign
Black legions bow.
The hair is bristling: it’s swelling now.
Accursed, base being
Are you not seeing
The never-begotten,
Unutterable
One permeating all heaven,
Pierced by mankind’s evil?
There behind the stove, still pent,
Swelling like an elephant,
It fills the whole space. Now it's willing
To melt in mist and so retreat.
Don't rise up to the ceiling!
Lay down at your master’s feet.
You'll see that I don’t threaten in vain.
I’ll singe you now with sacred flame.
Don’t wait to fight
The threefold, dazzling light!
Don’t wait to fight
The strongest art that I’ve at hand!
THE MIST CLEARS AND MEPHISTOPHELES
STEPS FORTH FROM BEHIND THE OVEN,
DRESSED AS A TRAVELLING SCHOLAR
MEPHISTOPHELES
Why all the noise? What does my lord command?
FAUST
So this was the kernel of the cur!
A travelling scholar , the casus makes me laugh.
MEPHISTOPHELES
I must salute you, greatly learned sir
You didn’t make me sweat by half.
FAUST
What are you called?
MEPHISTOPHELES
That question seems so small
For one who scorns the word so much; who’s fleeing
So far from mere appearance, all
His striving works towards depths of being.
FAUST
With sirs like you the being’s aim
Is mostly read out from the name.
And it is all too plainly shown
When you’re called lord of flies, destroyer, lying one.
All right- who are you then?
MEPHISTOPHELES A part of the power that would
Will ever for the bad and ever makes the good.
FAUST
What meaning do these riddling words disguise?
MEPHISTOPHELES
I am the spirit that ever denies!
And rightly so, for all that is created
Deserves to be annihilated.
It would be best if it could not begin.
So everything, what you call sin,
Destruction too- in short, where evil’s meant,
I’m in my own true element.
FAUST
You say you’re part, yet stand before me whole?
MEPHISTOPHELES
The modest truth is all I've told.
Though man, that microcosmic fool, well might,
As usual, just deem himself a whole,
I’m part of that great part that to begin was all:
Part of the dark that from itself gave birth to light;
Imperious light that now competes for space,
Disputing mother night’s old place;
Yet can’t succeed. No matter how it strives, it will
Remain enchained to bodies still.
It streams from bodies, makes them beautiful,
And other bodies block its way,
And so I hope soon comes the day
When it and bodies to destruction fall.
FAUST
So now I know your worthy duty!
You can’t destroy a lot of booty,
So you will start on something small.
MEPHISTOPHELES
And frankly little is done that way at all.
Yes, that which sets itself against the Nothing,
This clumsy universe, this Something,
As much as I’ve already tried,
Just how to harm it leaves me mystified.
Though flame, storm, wave, and rain I send,
The sea and land stay peaceful in the end.
That brood of beasts and men, that damned stuff of creation,
You cannot do it any harm:
How much already I’ve put down!
And always fresh, new blood returns to circulation.
Enough to drive one crazy with despair!
From earth, from water, and from the air,
A thousand fertile seeds are sown;
In dry and damp, in warm and cold.
And if I’d not reserved the flame of old,
I’d now have nothing for my own.
FAUST
So you oppose the ever-moving,
The curative, creative might,
The icy devil’s fist thus choosing
To clench in vain, malicious spite.
You should start trying something new,
Oh, ancient, chaos’ strange son.
MEPHISTOPHELES
We’ll really have to think that through-
So more next time we meet! May one
Take one’s good leave this time and go?
FAUST
I don’t see why you’re asking me.
I’ve made your strange acquaintance, so
Come visit as you will- feel free.
Here is the window, there’s the door,
The chimney too is on display.
MEPHISTOPHELES
I must say I’d have strolled out long before
Had not a tiny hindrance blocked my way:
The witch’s foot, your threshold spell.
FAUST
The pentagram there gives you pain?
Now tell me this, you son of hell,
If it bars you then how did you get in?
Yes, how was such a spirit cheated?
MEPHISTOPHELES
Observe with care. It isn’t quite completed.
One angle-tip, out-facing from my view,
Is, as you see, just opened out a bit.
FAUST
That was an excellent, chance hit!
So you’re my prisoner now, are you?
A lucky accident, it would appear.
MEPHISTOPHELES
The poodle noticed nothing as he bounced in here.
But now the thing is turned about:
The devil finds he can’t get out.
FAUST
Yet why not use the window’s way?
MEPHISTOPHELES
It is a law that fiends and ghosts obey:
Where we’ve slipped in, that’s where we must go out.
We’re free to choose the first, by the second we are bound.
FAUST
In hell itself then rules are found?
That’s good, for it would let one make a sure
And binding pact with gentlemen like you.
MEPHISTOPHELES
What’s promised you’ll taste fully, for
You’ll not be cheated of one thing you’re due.
Yet that’s not fixed with so much speed;
We shall discuss it presently.
But now I beg you urgently,
For this one time let me be freed.
FAUST
Just stay a moment longer in this room
And give some good report or news.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Now let me go! I shall return quite soon,
Then you may ask whatever you may choose.
FAUST
I didn’t trip this trap for you;
You strolled into the snare yourself
With devil held, you hold like glue!
He won’t be caught a second time without much stealth.
MEPHISTOPHELES
If it’s your pleasure, I’m prepared to stay,
To stay here too as company;
But on condition my art’s way
May pass time’s passing worthily.
FAUST
I’ll view it gladly. So be free;
But see your art works pleasingly.
MEPHISTOPHELES
You’ll gain more for your senses, friend,
Before this hour comes to an end,
Than in a year’s monotony.
For what the tender spirits sing,
The beautiful pictures that they bring,
Are not an empty magic’s sway.
For they’ll entrance your sense of smell,
Your palate please by their rare play,
Your touch enrapture by their spell.
No preparation’s needed then-
We are together, now begin!
SPIRITS
Vanish, you dark
Arches above!
Let the blue sky
Look in from high
With friendly love!
Would that the darkling
Clouds would all go!
Small stars are sparkling,
Milder suns glow,
Shine from above.
Wavering ones,
Spirit of beauty’s
Heavenly sons,
Bending down, hover,
Go floating over.
Yearning affection
Trails their direction;
And their out-flowing
Robes, ribbons blowing,
Over lands going,
Cover the arbours,
Where, deep in thought,
Lovers incline,
Pledging life’s course.
Arbour on arbour!
Sprouting of vine!
Grapes in most massive
Bunches go tumbling
Into the vats of
Crowded wine presses;
Wines fall and foam,
Rush in small rivers,
Rippling though pure,
Precious, clear stones,
Leaving heights lying,
Back there recumbent,
Broaden to lakes
Round the abundant,
Green-covered hills.
Wild fowl there will
Sip in delight,
Take sunward flight,
Fly towards the bright
Islands which seem
Rocking on billows,
Stirring in dream.
There, where before us,
Joyously chorus
Those whose dance wheels
Over the fields;
All of them scatter,
Free, without fetter.
Some of them climb
Over the peaks,
Some of them swim
Over the lakes,
More float in air-
All toward life there,
All toward far sight
Of loving starlight,
Most blissful grace.
MEPHISTOPHELES
He sleeps! Well done- soft, airy youths, your number
Have truly sung him into slumber.
I am indebted for this concert’s grace.
You are not yet the man to hold the devil fast.
Play-weave about with sweet dream figures, pass
Him down into an ocean of illusion.
To break this threshold’s magic cast
I need a rat’s tooth. And for this collusion
I shall not need to conjure long;
One’s rustling near and straight away will hear my song.
The lord of rats and busy mice,
Of blowflies, bedbugs, frogs and lice,
Now orders you to venture near
And gnaw into the threshold here
Where I have dotted it with oil-
You hop already to despoil!
Now straight to work! The tip that bans my kind
Is furthest from me, past that line.
Just one more bite, the work is done-
Now, Faust, until we meet again, dream on.
FAUST (AWAKENING)
Have I been tricked once more ? So does it seem
That this now-vanished spirit company
Just spun a fancied devil from false dreams,
And here a poodle simply fled from me?
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