WALPURGIS NIGHT - next scene from
Faust
Walpurgis Night - (in German
folklore) the night of April 30 (May Day's eve), when witches meet on
the Brocken mountain and hold revels with the Devil- From Google
Definitions
August Albert Zimmerman 1866 Walpurgis Night from Faust
While Goethe's "witches" are
traditional medieval types; there is no evidence they have anything
to do with the magical, nature philosophy covered by the term
"Wicca". He had a great belief in the spiritual side of
nature and even as a boy set up an "altar" to the "goddess
of nature".
In this Walpurgis Night scene he seems
to use the whole thing more as a metaphor for the "night"
side of human life and elements of the subconsciousness. (We, it
seems, have come into / Spheres of magic and of dreams...) There
is also satire and explicit sexual metaphor (censored by Goethe
himself in first printed edition- though it seems pretty mild by
today's standards). After Faust's harrowing vision that brings him
back to Margaret's fate, Mephistopheles emphasises the symbolic
nature of the scene with a meta-fictional touch by breaking the
"fourth wall" and joking about the dilettante
curtain-raiser.
Poster for Lewis Morrison as Mephistopheles with supernatural creatures on Brocken mountain on Walpurgis Night. Wikimedia
WALPURGIS
NIGHT
HARZ
MOUNTAINS. THE REGION OF SHIERKE AND ELEND. FAUST AND MEPHISTOPHELES
MEPHISTOPHELES
Now
wouldn’t you prefer a broomstick pole?
I
wish I had the best of goats- for we
Are
far still, on this pathway, from our goal.
FAUST
As
long as I feel fresh upon these limbs, to hold
This
knotted staff’s enough for me.
Why
speed our course with other things?
To
steal through labyrinthine valley ways,
Then
scale rock heights, where sparkling sprays
Of
never-failing waterfalls are fed from springs;
These
are the joys that such a journey brings!
Sweet
spring frees birch trees with its spell,
Already
fir trees feel its power-
Why
shouldn't it infuse our limbs as well?
MEPHISTOPHELES
In
truth, I do not feel that now!
I’m
wintery within the gloom.
I
wish the snow and frost upon my way.
And
look, how sadly shines the half-full moon;
Its
red disc, reeking but a tardy ray,
Gives
poor, dim light; at each step there’s a risk
Of
running up against a rock or tree.
Just
let me call a will-o’-the-wisp.
I
see one there that’s burning merrily.
Hey
there, my friend! Your company I claim.
Why
squander such a brilliant flame?
Please
light our upward pathway with its force.
WILL-O’-THE-WISP
I
hope that my respect will help control
My
very light and flighty soul-
For
normally we trace a zigzag course.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Oh,
ho! You’re thinking to ape humankind!
Go
straight now by the devil’s sign!
Or
I shall blow your brilliant flicker out.
WILL-O’-THE-WISP
You’re
master of the house; without a doubt,
I’ll
do my best to serve you nicely;
But
note this please, the mountain’s magic-mad tonight,
And
if a will-o’-the-wisp is now your leading light ,
Don’t
take his pointers too precisely.
FAUST,
MEPHISTOPHELES, WILL-O’-THE WISP
(IN
ALTERNATING SONG)
We,
it seems, have come into
Spheres
of magic and of dreams.
Lead
us well, show noble gleams,
So
that soon we move on through,
Through
these wide and wasted spaces.
Row
on row the trees change places,
Slip
beneath our swift-borne flight;
And
the crags bow down their might;
And
each long and rocky nose,
How
it snorts, and how it blows!
Past
the stones and grasses flows
Each
small stream, each hurries on.
Is
that babbling? Is that song?
Love’s
most gracious, lost lament,
Voice
of heaven’s days now spent?
What
we hope? What we adore?
And
the echo, testament,
Times
from old, sounds forth once more.
Oohoo!
Shoohoo! Near us play
Screech
owl, lapwing and the jay,
They
are still awake, are they?
Are
those newts in bush and hedge?
Bellied-big
with long, thin legs!
Roots
like serpents wind and creep
All
around the rocks and sands,
Stretching
like strange, eerie bands,
Try
to scare us, catch our feet;
Out
of sturdy, living gnarls
Fibres
reach like giant squid arms
After
wanderers. Mice all throng,
Thousand-hued
and swarm along
Through
the moss and through the heather!
Fireflies
mass in a crowd,
Hordes
and hordes all swarm together-
As
bewildering escorting cloud.
Tell
me, are we standing still,
Are
we rushing on past places?
All
appears to whirl until
Rocks
and trees are making faces,
Will-o’-the-wisps
swirl through the spaces,
Swell
and multiply at will.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Grip
my mantle with all your might!
Here
upon this mid-peak’s height,
You
can wonder at the show,
Gaze
on Mammon’s mountain glow.
FAUST
How
through the mountain bases spreads
A
strange and troubled, dawn-like sheen!
And
even from the deepest chasms sheds
A
rising light in each ravine.
Here
vapours rise, there cloud forms spread,
Here
gleams a glow through mist and haze,
There
creeps along a slender thread,
Then
gushes forth, a spring before our gaze.
It
shifts and winds on for a stretch
Through
valleys with a hundred veins,
Then
pressed into a corner cleft
Becomes
a single strand again.
And
nearby sparks strew forth and fall,
Out-sprayed
like dazzling, golden sand,
Just
look! the height of rocky wall
Is
kindled to a flaming brand.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Does
not Lord Mammon with magnificence
Illuminate
the palace for the feast?
You’re
fortunate to witness these events;
I
sense already the rowdy guests.
FAUST
Oh,
how the gale now rages through the air!
It
blasts my neck like blows from fists!
MEPHISTOPHELES
Grip
to the ancient ribs of rock, beware-
Don’t
be down-hurled into this tomb abyss.
Mist
thickens night. Just hear
The
crashing in the forest there!
Frightened
off, the owls are flying.
Pillars
of wild-sighing,
Ever-green
palaces shatter.
Branches
creak and crack and clatter!
The
trunks are groaning mightily!
The
roots gape, grating noisily!
In
a terrifying-tangled fall
Down
they crash, each onto all;
And
through the debris-strewn abyss,
The
wild winds howl and hiss.
Do
you hear voices here on high?
In
the distance, closer by?
On
the mountain, all along
Streams
a fury now of magic song!
WITCHES
(IN CHORUS)
The
witches ride to Brocken’s scene,
The
stubble is yellow, corn is green.
And
there a great crowd’s gathering,
Lord
Urian sits over them.
So
we go over dale and hill,
The
witches fart, the he-goats smell.
VOICE
Old
Balbo’s coming here alone,
Upon
a farrowing fat sow she’s flown.
CHORUS
Give
honour now, when honour's due!
Dame
Balbo forward! to lead the crew!
A
mother on a good, sound swine;
The
whole witch horde will ride behind.
VOICE
Which
way now did you come?
VOICE
Over
Ilstenstein I flew!
I
peeped into an owl’s nest passing through.
It
made great eyes at me.
VOICE
Oh,
go to hell!
Why
ride so fast, pray tell?
VOICE
She
took some of my skin,
Just
see my wounded limbs!
WITCHES’
CHORUS
The
way is broad, the way is long,
Then
why this pointless, maddened throng?
The
broomsticks scratch, the pitchforks poke-
If
the mother bursts, the child will choke.
HALF
CHORUS OF WITCH-MASTERS
We
creep like shell-bound snails, we’re sure
The
women are all far before.
For
going to foul evil’s door,
They
go a thousand steps before.
THE
OTHER HALF
That
doesn’t bother us, indeed
The
women can fly on with speed;
For
let her hurry without stop,
A
man can do it in one hop.
VOICE
(FROM ABOVE)
Come
up, come up from rock-bound lake!
VOICE
(FROM BELOW)
We’d
like to be on your poetic height.
We
wash until we shine from head to toe
Yet
we’re unfruitful, even so.
BOTH
CHORUSES
The
wind is still, the starlight flies,
The
troubled moon is glad to hide.
Now
whizzing by, the magic choir
Sprays
many thousand sparks of fire.
VOICE
(FROM BELOW)
Stop,
I’m left!
VOICE
(FROM ABOVE)
Who
calls from rocky clefts?
VOICE
(FROM BELOW)
Take
me too! Oh, take me!
I’ve
climbed three centuries
Already,
yet cannot reach the peak.
And
my own kind is all I wish to seek.
BOTH
CHOIRS
The
broom or stick will carry you,
The
billy goat or pitchfork too;
Those
who can’t lift themselves tonight
Are
doomed forever to their plight.
HALF-WITCH
(FROM BELOW)
For
such a time I’ve tripped behind,
The
rest are far ahead I find!
I
had no peace in my own place,
Yet
here I can’t keep up the pace.
CHORUS
OF WITCHES
The
salve gives courage to the witches,
Sails
can be made with rags and stitches;
Any
trough can make a ship. We say
You’ll
never fly if not today.
BOTH
CHOIRS
And
when we sweep and fly around
The
peak, then swoop down near the ground,
We
cover heath land, far and wide,
With
swarms from witch-hood’s wild night ride.
THEY
SETTLE DOWN
MEPHISTOPHELES
They
press and push, they rustle and rattle!
They
swish and swirl, they tussle and tattle!
It
shines and sparkles, stinks and burns-
The
real witch element returns!
Just
stick with me! or we’ll be parted soon.
Where
are you?
FAUST
(IN THE DISTANCE)
Here!
MEPHISTOPHELES
What!
Separated already now?
I
must use my domestic power.
Room!
Squire Voland comes. Room! Lovely rabble, room!
Here,
doctor, cling to me! Now in one leap we’ll zoom
Away
from crowds of company.
It’s
too mad, even for the likes of me.
There
near us something gleams with quite a special glow,
It
draws me towards that shrubbery.
Come,
come! we’ll slip in there, let’s go.
FAUST
You
may as well lead on, you spirit of contradiction!
Yet
still I think that this is really bright-
We
travel to the Brocken on Walpurgisnight,
Then
set about to end in isolation.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Just
see there, multi-coloured flames
Have
made a cheerful club. It’s plain,
In
little groups one’s not alone.
FAUST
Yet
I’d prefer that higher zone.
I
see the fires; smoke-swirls swell.
The
crowd streams towards the evil one;
There
many riddles would be undone.
MEPHISTOPHELES
And
many new evolved as well.
Just
let the great world whizz on by,
Let
us dwell here in peace, say I.
It
has, in fact, long been related
That
in the greater world, the smaller are created.
I
see young witches in a naked state,
And
older, who are cleverly well-dressed.
Be
friendly, that’s my only wish;
The
effort’s small, the fun is great.
The
sounding of some instruments I hear.
Damn
din. One must get used to it, I fear.
Come
on! Come on! There’s nothing for it but
For
me to go and take you to this lot
And
thus bind you anew. Now go
And
tell me, isn’t this some space, my friend?
Just
look out there, you barely glimpse the end,
A
hundred fires burning in a row.
They
dance, they chat, they cook and drink, embrace;
Now
tell me where is there a better place!
FAUST
But
when you introduce me at the revel,
Will
you appear as sorcerer or devil?
MEPHISTOPHELES
I’m
used to going incognito, as you know,
But
on a gala day one lets one’s order show.
It’s
not a garter that shows my due,
But
here the cloven foot is held in honour true.
You
see the snail there? Towards us it comes creeping,
With
tentative and groping face;
It’s
sensed I’m something out of keeping.
For
even if I wished, I can’t hide in this place.
Come
then! We’ll visit each fire, see what’s brewing;
I’ll
do the courting, you the wooing.
TO
SOME WHO ARE SITTING AROUND GLOWING COALS
Old
sirs, why are you at the end down here?
I’d
praise you now if you were nicely in the middle,
Engulfed
by bustle and youthful hustle,
One
is alone enough at home, I fear.
GENERAL
Who'd
trust the nations, for although
One
has already done so much for them,
The
people will, like women, don't you know,
Forever
like the younger men.
MINISTER
OF STATE
Now
all has strayed far from the line;
I
praise the good, old-timer days;
When
we all mattered, I must say,
That
truly was the golden time.
PARVENU
And
truly we weren’t total clots,
And
often did, what we should not;
Now
everything is topsy-turvy,
Just
when we wished to keep it steady.
AUTHOR
Who,
after all, now wants to read a work
That’s
balanced and intelligent!
And
what concerns our dear young folk,
It’s
never been just so impertinent.
MEPHISTOPHELES
(WHO
ALL AT ONCE APPEARS VERY OLD)
I
feel that folk are ripe for doom's last day,
This
is my last climb to the Blocksberg’s crown;
As
my small cask runs low, I say
The
world itself is running down.
JUNK
SHOP WITCH
Do
not rush by, sirs! I must mention
This
great, new opportunity!
Just
give all of the great variety
Of
my fine wares some close attention.
There’s
nothing in this shop of mine-
(Each
is unmatched on all this earth)
That’s
not done hearty harm, some time,
To
humans or the world's true worth.
No
dagger that’s not made blood flow, no cup
That
hasn’t poured a hot and poisoned wine,
Consuming
so some healthy chap;
No
gem that hasn’t led astray a kind
And
charming girl; no sword not used to snap
A
bond, or maybe stab a rival from behind.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Old
aunt! poor is your grasp of these new days.
Done
and happened! Happened, done!
Just
shift your gaze to novel ways!
For
only novelty draws everyone.
FAUST
I
must keep focused, self-aware!
For
this is what I call a fair!
MEPHISTOPHELES
The
swirling mass strives upward here;
You
think you push, yet you’re pushed from the rear.
FAUST
Who’s
that?
MEPHISTOPHELES
Just
watch her with great care.
That’s
Lilith.
FAUST
Who?
MEPHISTOPHELES
First
wife of Adam. But beware,
Of
her most beautiful, long hair,
It
is her gem: unique and single snare.
When
she has got the young man in its boon,
It
won't let go again too soon.
FAUST
A
young witch and an old sit there. No doubt,
They
are already quite danced out.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Tonight,
you know, all know no rest.
A
new dance starts. Come on, we’ll take them on with zest.
FAUST
(DANCING WITH THE YOUNG ONE)
Now
once the fairest dream I dreamed,
I
saw an apple tree that seemed
To
have two apples, shining fair-
They
tempted me, I climbed it there.
THE
FAIR ONE
For
apples you’ve a great desire,
Since
Paradise it’s been on fire.
I
feel a stirring of delight
That
in my garden too they’re bright.
MEPHISTOPHELES
(DANCING WITH THE OLD ONE)
Now
once a vulgar dream I dreamed,
I
saw a cloven tree; it seemed
That
it possessed a great big split,
Big
as it was, I fancied it.
THE
OLD ONE
I
give best greeting now- my dear
Knight
of the cloven hoof is here!
And
if your branch is big, then you
Won’t
fear a slit that’s quite large too.
PROKTOPHANTASMIST
Damn
rotten lot! how dare you cross my seeing?
Have
you not long ago had proofs complete
That
spirits never stand on normal feet?
And
now you dance- like other human beings!
THE
FAIR ONE (DANCING)
What
is he doing at our fair?
FAUST
(DANCING)
That
one! You’ll find him anywhere.
What
others dance, he must inspect,
If
he can’t criticize each step,
For
him it may as well have not occurred.
Indeed,
he’s angered most when we go forward.
But
if you turn in circles set apart,
As
he does in his dull and ancient mill,
He
would, perhaps, not take it ill,
Especially
if you acknowledged him to start.
PROKTOPHANTASMIST
You’re
still here? This won’t do in any way.
So
vanish! We’ve enlightened you away!
This
fiendish rabble knows no rules. We’re most
Intelligent,
yet Tegel castle has its ghost.
Although
I’ve spent so long on sweeping out illusion,
It’s
never clean- it’s just beyond all reason!
THE
FAIR ONE
Just
listen here, stop boring us to bits!
PROKTOPHANTASMIST
You
spirits all, just get this clear,
I’ll
not stand spirit despotism here;
My
spirit can’t rule over it.
THE
DANCING CONTINUES
I
see today there’s nothing I can do;
Still
I am always ready for another trip,
And
hope, before I take my final step,
To
so subdue all fiends and poets too.
MEPHISTOPHELES
He’ll
sit in any puddle he can find,
That’s
how he gets relief below;
For
when the leeches latch themselves on his behind,
He’s
rid of spirits and of spirit in one go.
TO
FAUST, WHO HAS STEPPED OUT OF THE DANCE
Why
do you leave that beauty now alone?
So
lovely was the way she sang.
FAUST
A
little reddish mouse just sprang
From
her mouth as she was singing now.
MEPHISTOPHELES
O,
that’s all right! Don’t worry so, I say.
It
is enough it wasn’t grey.
Who
questions such things in a lover’ s hour?
FAUST
Then
I saw-
MEPHISTOPHELES
What?
FAUST
Mephisto,
see that place,
That
beautiful, pale girl, alone and far away?
She
drags herself but slowly through the space,
It
seems her feet are both chained in some way.
I
must confess, I fancy she
Seems
like fair Gretchen now to me.
MEPHISTOPHELES
That
does no good. Leave it! Beware!
It
is a magic image; lifeless idol there.
Best
to avoid her. Understand!
That
frozen gaze can freeze the blood of man,
Turn
you to stone upon the spot;
You’ve
heard of the Medusa, have you not?
FAUST
In
truth, they are the eyes of one that’s dead,
Not
closed by loving hand. That breast
Is
hers, on which she let me lay my head;
That’s
her sweet body that I caressed.
MEPHISTOPHELES
You
easily-led fool! That is the sorcery!
She
seems to each his love. Now don't you see?
FAUST
What
bliss! What grief! I have to stay,
I
cannot draw my eyes away.
How
strange that her fair neck should be adorned
With
just a single, thin, red line,
No
broader than a thin knife’s back.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Quite
so! I see it too. Be warned,
She
takes it in her arms when she’s inclined,
For
Perseus cut it with one hack.
This
fondness for illusion still!
Come
on, just climb this little hill!
Here
it’s as jolly as the Prater;
And
if I’m not bewitched, I’m sure
I
actually see a theatre.
What’s
on, my friend?
SERVIBILIS
We’re
starting now once more,
The
last of seven things, a new release;
It’s
custom here to put lots in our brew.
A
dilettante wrote the piece,
And
dilettantes act it too.
Excuse,
good sirs, I’ll slip from sight;
For
I must dilettante up the curtain.
MEPHISTOPHELES
To
find you on the Blocksberg’s height
Is
good, for that’s where you belong for certain.
