WALPURGIS NIGHT. Harz gebirge, district of Schirke and Elcuil. FAUST. MEPHISTOPHELES. MEPHISTOPHeles. A broomstick dost thou not at least desire? FAUST. This knotted stick is all that I require. spray Adown the ever bubbling fountains fling, Is the true zest that seasons such a way. Already in the birches stirs the spring, MEPHISTOPHELES. Truly I can perceive no trace of this; All winterly my body is. I would my path were strewn with frost and snow; How sadly rises the imperfect disk* Of the red moon, with her belated glow, Lighting so dimly that each step we risk Running against a rock, against a tree. To call a Wildfire I your leave will crave. I see one yonder, blazing merrily. Hey! there, my friend, your company we'd have ; Why there so uselessly your glare display? Just be so good and light us on our way. IGNIS FATUus. I hope I shall be able, (in deep respect MEPHISTOPHELES. Ay, ay! you think mankind to imitate. Scheibe means blank, i. e. a coin cut, but not stamped. To the blank moon Her office they assigned. Paradise Lost. Now in the devil's name, go straight! IGNIS FATUUS. I know you are the master, and obey; And if a Wildfire shews to you the way, FAUST. MEPHISTOPHEles. In turns. We have entered, as it seems, IGNIS FATUUS. Spheres of magic, realms of dreams; Guide us well, thou child of fire, Honour for thyself acquire! Swiftly forward let us press, Behold! behold! how tree by tree, Fast and faster backwards flee ; How their heads they bow and wag; And each giant granite nose, How it snorts, and how it blows! Down through stones, and down through grass, Voice those days from Heaven above? Like a tale of times of old. To-whit! to-whoo! not far away, Are salamanders in the brake? Legs stretched out, and paunches stout! To frighten us, to seize on us; From coarse gnarled knots, with life endued, Stretch fibres as of polypus Towards the wanderer. Thousand head Mice, in hosts, are there together, Tell me, stop we at this place, MEPHISTOPHELES. Seize my skirt, and grasp it well; There is a central pinnacle, Whence with wonderment one gazes; How Mammon in the mountain blazes. FAUST. And see how strangely glimmers through the ground, Like morning's blush, a dim and mournful gleam, And, piercing even the abyss profound Of the deep chasms, plays its fitful beam. There reeks it high, there vapours curl and shift, There flames flash out from mist and gossamer-like Creeps like a slender thread at first, Then, like a gushing fountain, out doth burst; Winds in a streak of huge extent, With hundred veins, the vale throughout; Then, in the narrow corner pent, Suddenly scatters all about; |