Wagner. Ich seh' ihn ungewiß und furchtsam uns umspringen, Faust. Der Kreis wird eng, schon ist er nah! Wagner. 810 Du siehst, ein Hund, und kein Gespenst ist da. Cr knurrt und zweifelt, legt sich auf den Bauch, Er wedelt. Alles Hunde-Brauch. Faust. Gefelle dich zu uns! Komm hier! Wagner. Es ist ein pudelnärrisch. Thier. Du stehest still, er wartet auf; Du sprichst ihn an, er strebt an dir hinauf; Nach deinem Stock ins Wasser springen. Faust. Du hast wohl Recht; ich finde nicht die Spur 820 Von einem Geist, und alles ist Dressur. Wagner. Dem Hunde, wenn er gut gezogen, (Sie gehen in das Stadtthor.) Faust has now returned to his cell and, soothed by his late walk and the quiet around him, his better soul awakens, and love of God and man succeed for the moment to his former despair. But the poodle has entered with him, and its restless running and sniffing begin almost immediately to disturb his new-found repose. By way of resisting its influence Faust takes down the Greek Testament and begins to translate the first chapter of the Gospel according to St. John; he finds a difficulty at once in the word λóyos, but at last determines to render it "In the beginning was the act" (That). The restlessness of the poodle has by this time become unbearable, and Faust opens the door in the hope that it will make its escape, but to his amazement its form begins to change, it swells to a monstrous size, and he seeks for some spell to exorcise it. At this moment spirits are heard in the passage mocking at the "old lynx of hell," who has got himself entrapped within. Faust proceeds to use the charm of the Four, of Salamander, Undene, Sylph, and Cobold, but in vain he then tries the sign of the Cross; at this the monster swells still further and retires behind the stove: here its volume still increases, but its density diminishes, and as Faust threatens it with his last and most potent exorcism, "the thrice glowing light," the spell is complete and "the kernel of the poodle" steps out from behind the stove in the person of Mephistopheles disguised as a travelling scholar. On Faust's asking his name Mephistopheles defines himself as a portion of that power which is always willing evil but doing good,” and, when pressed for an explanation, says that he is the spirit which always denies, and that sin, destruction, evil, in short, are his special element. He then inveighs against Light and against the persistent vitality of the world, in which all the elements except fire are working against him, but brings his invective somewhat abruptly to a close and requests Faust to allow him to leave the cell: the pentagram, which Faust has drawn on the threshold, is an insuperable barrier, and he is practically Faust's prisoner. Faust at once sees his opportunity, if Mephistopheles can be bound in one way he can in another, he must be detained and they will make a compact. But his eagerness does not on this occasion meet with encouragement, the compact cannot be arranged out of hand, and had better be deferred till their next meeting. Faust is still unwilling to let his chance slip, devils are not to be caught twice over, and Mephistopheles at last consents to stay on condition that he may wile away the time with his arts. He accordingly summons his dainty sprites, who forthwith begin their dreamy cloud-song. Under its influence Faust falls asleep, and Mephistopheles extricates himself by rubbing a drop of oil taken from Faust's lamp on the edge of the threshold. This attracts a rat, who quietly gnaws through the angle of the pentagram and releases Mephistopheles, the master of him and other vermin. Faust at length awakes to find Mephistopheles gone, and in his bewilderment is inclined to believe that the poodle, Mephistopheles, and the images of the spirit-song were all equally illusions, and that once again he has been disappointed and deceived. 830 Studirzimmer. Fauft mit dem Pudel hereintretend. Sei ruhig, Pudel! renne nicht hin und wieder! Mein bestes Kissen geb' ich dir. Wie du draußen auf dem bergigen Wege Ach, wenn in unsrer engen Zelle Knurre nicht, Pudel! Zu den heiligen Tönen, 850 Die jest meine ganze Seel' umfassen, Will der thierische Laut nicht passen. Wir sind gewohnt, daß die Menschen verhöhnen, Daß sie vor dem Guten und Schönen, Aber ach! schon fühl' ich, bei dem besten Willen, Mich drängt's, den Grundtert aufzuschlagen, Das heilige Original 870 In mein geliebtes Deutsch zu übertragen. (Er schlägt ein Volum auf und schickt sich an.) Wenn ich vom Geiste recht erleuchtet bin. Daß deine Feder sich nicht übereile! Ist es der Sinn, der alles wirkt und schafft? 880 Es sollte stehn: „Im Anfang war die Kraft!" Doch, auch indem ich dieses niederschreibe, Schon warnt mich was, daß ich dabei nicht bleibe. 890 900 910 Soll ich mit dir das Zimmer theilen, So laß das Bellen! Solch einen störenden Gesellen Muß die Zelle meiden. Ungern heb' ich das Gastrecht auf, Kann das natürlich geschehen? Ist es Schatten? ist's Wirklichkeit? Das ist nicht eines Hundes Gestalt! Für solche halbe Höllenbrut Ift Salomonis Schlüssel gut. Geister (auf dem Gange.) Drinnen gefangen ist einer! Bleibet haußen, folg' ihm keiner! Zagt ein alter Höllenluchs. Aber gebt Acht! Schwebet hin, schwebet wieder, Auf und nieder, Und er hat sich losgemacht. Könnt ihr ihm nügen, |