WALPURGIS NIGHT.

Harz gebirge, district of Schirke and Elcuil.

FAUST.

MEPHISTOPHELES.

MEPHISTOPHeles.

A broomstick dost thou not at least desire?
The roughest goat would be a boon to me
By this road, still far from our goal are we.

FAUST.

This knotted stick is all that I require.
While fresh and stout upon my legs I feel,
What gain were it to shorten such a way ?
Through all these labyrinthine vales to steal,
And then these rocks to climb, from whence their

spray

Adown the ever bubbling fountains fling,

Is the true zest that seasons such a way.

Already in the birches stirs the spring,
Already even the hoar pines feel her sway;
Should she not in our limbs a like effect display?

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
I speak), my giddy nature to correct;
Mostly our course in zigzags twists about.

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!
Or else your flickering life will I blow out.

IGNIS FATUUS.

I know you are the master, and obey;
Gladly myself to you accommodate.
Consider, still, the mountain is to-day
With madness magical infuriate;

And if a Wildfire shews to you the way,
You must not be with him too accurate.

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,
Through the barren wilderness.

Behold! behold! how tree by tree,

Fast and faster backwards flee ;
Cliff by cliff, and crag by crag,

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,
Hurrying, stream and streamlet pass!
Gurgling waters? melting tones?
Hear I lovers' gentle moans

Voice those days from Heaven above?
What we hope, and what we love!
Back by dying Echo rolled,

Like a tale of times of old.

To-whit! to-whoo! not far away,
The owl, the pewit, and the jay,
Have they all remained awake?

Are salamanders in the brake?

Legs stretched out, and paunches stout!
And the roots, each like a snake,
Twisting out from rock and sand,
Stretch around a wondrous band,

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,
In the moss and in the heather;
And behold the fireflies gather,
Whirling, thronging, swarmingly,
A confounding company.

Tell me, stop we at this place,
Or our way still onwards win?
Everything appears to spin;
How the trees and rocks grimace,
How increase the wild fires there,
How they flicker, how they flare.

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;