throng, which sucks us, against our will, into the whirlpool. No! conduct me to the quiet, heavenly nook, where alone pure enjoyment blooms for the poet- where love and friendship, with godlike hand, create and cherish the blessings of the heart. Ah! what there hath gushed from us in the depths of the breast, what the lip stammered tremblingly to itself - now failing, and now perchance succeeding· the wild moment's sway swallows up. Often only when it has endured through years, does it appear in perfected form. What glitters, is born for the moment; what is genuine, remains unlost to posterity. MERRYMAN. If I could but hear no more about posterity! Suppose I chose to talk about posterity, who then would make fun for contemporaries? That they will have - and ought to have it. The presence of a gallant lad, too, is always something, I should think. Who knows how to impart himself agreeably, he will never be irritated by popular caprice. He desires a large circle, to agitate it the more certainly. Then do but try your best, and show yourself a model. Let Fancy, with all her choruses Reason, Understanding, Feeling, Passion, but - mark me well-not without Folly, be heard. 4 MANAGER. But, most particularly, let there be incident enough. People come to look; their greatest pleasure is to see. If much is spun off before their eyes, so that the many can gape with astonishment, you have then gained in breadth immediately; you are a great favorite. You can only subdue the mass by mass. Each eventually picks out something for himself. Who brings much will bring something to many a one,5 and all leave the house content. If you give a piece, give it at once in pieces! With such a hash, you cannot but succeed. It is easily served out, as easily as invented. What avails it to present a whole? The public will pull it to pieces for you, notwithstanding. POET. You feel not the baseness of such a handicraft; how little that becomes the true artist! The daubing of these fine sparks, I see, is already a maxim with you. MANAGER. Such a reproof does not mortify me at all. A man who intends to work properly must take care to have the best tool. Consider, you have soft wood to split; and only look whom you are writing for! Whilst one is driven by ennui, the other comes satiated from an overloaded table; and, what is worst of all, very many a one comes from reading the newspapers. People hurry dissipated to us, as to masquerades; and curiosity only wings every step. The ladies give themselves and their finery as a treat, and play with us without pay. What are you dreaming about on your poetical height? What is it that makes a full house merry? Look closely at your patrons! Half are cold, half raw. The one looks forward to a game of cards after the play; the other, to a wild night on the bosom of a wench. Why, poor fools that ye are, do ye plague the sweet Muses for such an end? I tell you, only give more and more, and more again; thus you can never be wide of your mark. Try only to mystify the people; to satisfy them is hard-What is come to you? Delight or pain? POET. Begone, and seek thyself another servant! The poet, forsooth, is wantonly to sport away for thy sake the highest right, the right of man, which Nature bestows upon him! By what stirs he every heart? By what subdues he every element? Is it not the harmony-which bursts from out his breast, and sucks the world back again into his heart? When Nature, carelessly winding, forces the thread's interminable length upon the spindle; when the confused multitude of all Beings jangles out of tune and harsh,-who, life-infusing, so disposes the ever equably-flowing series that it moves rhythmically? Who calls the Individual to the general consecration, where it strikes in glorious accords? Who bids the tempest rage to passions? the evening-red glow in the pensive spirit? Who scatters on the loved one's path all beauteous blossomings of spring? Who wreathes the unmeaning green leaves into a gar land of honor for deserts of all kinds? Who insures Olympus? -associates gods? Man's power revealed in the Poet. MERRYMAN. Employ these fine powers then, and carry on your poetical affairs as one carries on a love adventure. Accidentally one approaches, one feels, one stays; and little by little, one gets entangled. The happiness increases, - then it is disturbed; one is delighted, then comes distress; and before one is aware of it, it is even a romance. Let us also give a play in this manner. Do but grasp into the thick of human life! Every one lives it, to not many is it known; and seize it where you will, it is interesting. Little clearness in motley images! much falsehood and a spark of truth! this is the way to brew the best liquor, which refreshes and edifies all the world. Then assembles youth's fairest flower to see your play, and listens to the revelation. Then every gentle mind sucks melancholy nourishment for itself from out your work; then one while this, and one while that, is stirred up; each one sees what he carries in his heart. They are as yet equally ready to weep and to laugh; they still honor the soaring, are pleased with the glitter. One who is formed there is no such thing as pleasing; one who is forming will always be grateful. POET. Then give me back again the times when I myself was still forming; when a fountain of crowded lays sprang freshly and unbrokenly forth; when mists veiled the world before me, the bud still promised miracles; when I gathered the thousand flowers which profusely filled all the dales! I had nothing, and yet enough-the longing after truth, and the pleasure in delusion! Give me back those impulses untamed-the deep, painfraught happiness, the energy of hate, the might of love!. Give me back my youth! MERRYMAN. Youth, my good friend, you want, indeed, when foes press you hard in the fight, when the loveliest of lasses cling with ardor round your neck, when, from afar, the garland of the swift course beckons from the hard-won goal, — when, after the ; dance's maddening whirl, one drinks away the night carousing. But to strike the familiar lyre with spirit and grace, to sweep along, with happy wanderings, towards a self-appointed aim that, old gentleman, is your duty, and we honor you not the less on that account. Old age does not make childish, as men say; it only finds us still as true children. MANAGER. 8 Words enough have been interchanged; let me now see deeds also. Whilst you are turning compliments, something useful may be done. What boots it to stand talking about being in the vein? The hesitating never is so. If ye once give yourselves out for poets, command poesy. You well know what we want; we would sip strong drink—now brew away immediately! What is not doing to-day, is not done to-morrow. No day should be wasted in dallying. Resolution should boldly seize the possible by the forelock at once. She will then not let it go, and works on because she cannot help it. You know, upon our German stage, every one tries what he likes. Therefore spare me neither scenery nor machinery upon this day. Use the greater and the lesser light of heaven; 9 you are free to squander the stars; there is no want of water, fire, rocks, beasts, and birds. So tread in this narrow booth the whole circle of creation; and travel, with considerate speed, from Heaven, through the World, to Hell. FAUST. PROLOGUE IN HEAVEN.10 THE LORD; THE HEAVENLY HOSTS; The Three Archangels come forward. fan-2-1881 THE sun chimes in, as ever, with the emulous music of his brother spheres," and performs his prescribed journey with thunder-speed. His aspect gives strength to the angels, though none can fathom him. Thy inconceivably sublime works are glorious as on the first day. GABRIEL. And rapid, inconceivably rapid, the pomp of the earth revolves; the brightness of paradise alternates with deep, fearful night. The sea foams up in broad waves at the deep base of the rocks; and rock and sea are whirled on in the ever rapid course of the spheres. MICHAEL. And storms are roaring as if in rivalry, from sea to land, from land to sea, and form all around a chain of the deepest ferment in their rage. There, flashing desolation flares before the path of the thunder-clap. But thy messengers, Lord, respect the mild going of thy day.12 |