When the moon's waning, spread the mixture on,

And when the spring has come, the spots are gone.

A Brunette. To fawn around you, see the crowd advancing!

I beg a remedy! A chilblained foot

Hinders me much in walking and in dancing

And makes me awkward even when I salute.

Mephistopheles. Pray let me tread upon it with my foot.

Brunette. Well, I suppose that happens between lovers.

Mephistopheles. In my tread, child, a greater meaning hovers.

Like unto like, whatever pain one undergo!

Foot healeth foot, so is it with each member.

Come here! Give heed! Don't you tread me, remember!

Brunette [Screaming]. Oh, how that stings! you did tread hard!

Oh! Oh!

'Twas like a horse's hoof.

Mephistopheles. With this cure you can go.

Dance to your heart's content, now you are able,

Or foot it with your sweetheart 'neath the table.

Lady [pressing forward]. Let me go through! Too painful are my

sorrows;

Deep in my heart this anguish burns and burrows.

Till yesterday his bliss hung on my glances

But now he turns his back; only her talk entrances.

Mephistopheles. That's serious, but listen carefully.

Press up to him quite softly, take

This bit of charcoal, and then on him make

A mark on sleeve or cloak or shoulder as may be;

Remorse will pierce him to the very core.

The coal, however, you must straightway swallow,

Nor let a drop of wine or water follow;

Tonight you'll have him sighing at your door.

Lady. It is not poison, is it?

Mephistopheles [indignant]. Respect where it is due!

For such a coal you'd travel many a mile;

It comes here from a funeral pile

Such as whose flames we once more fiercely blew.

Page. I am in love, they do not take me seriously.

Mephistopheles [aside]. Whom I am now to listen to, I do not see. -

To the PAGE. -

Let not the youngest maid your fancy fetter;

Those on in years know how to prize you better. -

Others crowd up. -

Still more and more? It is a brawl, in sooth!

I'll help myself at last with naked truth,

The worst of aids! Great is my misery.-

O Mothers, Mothers! Do let Faust go free! -

Gazing around him. -

The lights are burning dimly in the hall,

At once the Court starts forward, one and all.

I see them file according to their grades

Through distant galleries and long arcades.

Now they're assembling in that ample space,

The old Knight's Hall; yet hardly all find place.

The spacious walls with tapestries are rich,

While armour decorates each nook and niche.

Here is no need, methinks, of magic incantation,

Ghosts will come here without an invitation.

HALL OF THE KNIGHTS -

Dim illumination. The EMPEROR and Court have entered. -

Herald. Mine ancient office of announcing plays

Is marred by spirits' mystic interference;

In vain one dares in reasonable ways

To fathom their mysterious appearance.

The chairs are placed, the seats are ready all;

The Emperor is seated just before the wall;

Upon the arras there he may with ease behold

The glorious battles that men fought of old.

Now Emperor and Court are seated here;

The benches crowd together in the rear;

And lovers in this spirit-hour's uncanny gloom

Have found beside their loved ones lovely room.

And so, since all have duly taken places,

We're ready, let the spirits come and face us! -

Trumpets. -

Astrologer. Now let the drama start without delay.

Our Sire commands! Ye walls, give way!

Naught hinders now. Here magic doth conspire;

The arras rolls away as if by fire.

The wall is splitting, turning in the gloom,

A deep stage seems to be appearing,

A light mysterious to be nearing,

And I ascend to the proscenium.

Mephistopheles [rising to view in the prompter's box].

I hope for favour here from all and each,

For promptings are the Devil's art of speech. -

To the ASTROLOGER. -

You know the tempo of the stars on high;

You'll understand my whispering masterly.

Astrologer. By magic might before us doth appear,

Massive enough, an ancient temple here.

Like Atlas who upheld the sky of old,

Columns enough, in rows, you can behold.

Well for the weight of stone may they suffice,

Since two could bear a mighty edifice.

Architect. So that's antique! I can't say I would praise it;

Top-heavy, clumsy, is the way to phrase it.

Rude is called noble, awkward great; far more

I love slim shafts that boundless soar.

High pointed arches lift the soul on high,

Such edifices most do edify.

Astrologer. Receive with reverent awe star-granted hours

By magic's spells enthralled be Reason's powers,

And in its stead, arising far and free,

Reign glorious, daring Phantasy!

What you desired so boldly, be it now perceived;

It is impossible, therefore to be believed. -