B00ARI2G5C EBOK (24 page)

7190

MEPHISTOPHELES
. You’d once have cursed these creatures, I must say;

Now you’re in need of them, it seems.

When lovers seek the object of their dreams,

They welcome even monsters on the way.

FAUST
[
to
THE SPHINXES]
.

You who are women, you must tell me true:

Has Helena been seen by one of you?

THE SPHINXES
. We’re not her period: long before her birth

Hercules slew the last Sphinx left on earth.

Ask Chiron:
*
on this ghostly night

He’s galloping around—perhaps he might

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Consent to stop, then he will put you right.

THE SIRENS
. We wish you success as well!

Ulysses? He did not spurn

Our green shore, but stayed to learn

Many a tale he would retell.

Come with us, to where the wide

Sea-waves roll, and we shall hide

Nothing that you long to hear!

A SPHINX
. Scorn, noble stranger, these false hopes.

As Ulysses was bound by ropes,

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By our good counsels now be bound:

Great Chiron’s words, when you have found

Him, they will satisfy your ear.

[Exit
FAUST.]

MEPHISTOPHELES
[
in annoyance]
.

What’s this now, croaking, winging past?

They can’t be seen, they move so fast,

All of them following beak to tail.

Here even a huntsman’s skill would fail.

A SPHINX
. Like winter storms that scour the sky

The Stymphalids come rushing by;

Hercules’ arrows they outfly.

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They have hawks’ beaks, they have goose-feet.

With well-meant croak they try to greet

Their cousins—for we count as such;

They seem to want to keep in touch.

MEPHISTOPHELES
[
nervously]
.

There’s something else, I hear it hissing.

A SPHINX
. The heads of the Lernaean Snake—

You needn’t be alarmed, the rump is missing,

Though they still think they’re on the make.

But tell us, why this agitation?

What, sir, is now your destination?

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What’s to become of you? Why don’t

You go?… You crane your neck—you want

To join that chorus over there. Feel free

To do so! Greet that charming company,

The Lamiae—subde little tarts

With smiling mouths and shameless arts

Such as the satyrs like, designed

To please your lustful goat-foot kind.

MEPHISTOPHELES
. But you will stay here? We shall meet again?

THE SPHINXES
. Yes! By all means, mix with that airy throng.

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We are from Egypt, and our kind has long

Been used to its millennial reign.

And you must honour us: we calculate

The cycles of the sun, and the moon’s state.

Judges over nations, thus

By the pyramids we sit;

Wars, floods, peace—we watch it pass,

Never blink an eye at it.

The river-god is surrounded by tributary streams and nymphs
]

PENEUS
. Gently stir, you whispering rushes,

Reeds, my sisters, make a breeze!

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Rustle lightly, willow-bushes,

Lisp, you trembling poplar-trees,

To my interrupted dream!…

For a fearful tremor wakes me,

A mysterious motion shakes me

From my wandering slumber-stream.

FAUST
[
coming to the river’s edge]
. Leaves and branches interwound,

Arbour-like, and murmuring,

If I hear aright, with sound

As when human voices sing.

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Are the wavelets not like speech,

Breezes fondling each and each?

NYMPHS
[
to
FAUST]
.

Oh come and lie down

In this coolness, refreshed

From your weariness, come,

For our counsel is best:

In this place you shall find

Your lost peace of mind;

Our murmuring, our whispering

Shall lull you to rest.

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FAUST
. A waking vision!—Linger there,

Oh you sweet forms beyond compare,

Projected by my longing eyes!

What is this joy that fills me so?

I have once felt it, long ago:

Are these now dreams, or memories?

How fresh the leaves that gently move

On the dense bushes! Through this grove

Scarce-rippling streamlets steal their way

From all around; that shallow pool

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Unites a hundred springs, so cool

And clean, and there the maidens play!

Young healthy limbs, all mirrored clear

In the moist surface, so that here

My gaze redoubles its delight.

They bathe, a happy company;

The bold swim, some wade cautiously;

All ends in a shrill watery fight.

With these my eyes should drink their fill,

My mind should be content: but still

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It seeks what I have not yet seen.

My gaze would pierce that leafy wall,

That ring of verdure rich and tall,

That veil which hides the lofty queen.

And how strange! Now swans are coming,

From the streams and inlets swimming;

How majestically they drift!

Graceful, pure, in a gregarious

Motion, yet with calm self-glorious

Pride, as heads and beaks they lift…

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One alone, with swelling breast,

Seems serene above the rest,

Bold and swift his course prevails:

Plumage puffing and subsiding

Like the wave-tops he is riding,

To that holy place he sails …

The other swans swim to and fro,

Calmly their brilliant feathers glow,

But then in warlike style they tease

The maidens, and those timid beauties

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Are soon forgetful of their duties

As each her own pursuer flees.

NYMPHS
. Sisters, listen, lay an ear

To the river-bank’s green ground!

If I hear aright, the sound

Of a horse’s hooves draws near.

Who is this that gallops past,

Rides tonight with news so fast?

FAUST
. On the earth I hear a drumming

As of hurried hoof-beats coming.

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Far off I see

Good luck approaching me:

Can this already be

My wondrous destiny?

It is a horseman; I can tell

That he is bold and wise as well.

The steed he rides is gleaming white…

I recognize him—I am right—

Philyra’s great and famous son!—

Stop, Chiron, stop! I have to speak to you…

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CHIRON
. What’s this? who? what?

FAUST
.            Tame your wild pace

CHIRON
.             I run

And never rest.

FAUST
. Then take me with you too!

CHIRON
. Jump up! Now I can ask you freely: where

Do you want to go? On the Peneus’ banks

I find you: we can cross if you prefer.

FAUST
[
mounting]
.

I will go where you like! Eternal thanks!…

Great, noble man, you who have won such fame

As mentor to so many heroes—need I name

The Argonauts’ prestigious company,

And all who built the world of poets’ fantasy!

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CHIRON
. Well, let that rest. Small credit even the wise

Athene gets in her tutorial guise;

One’s pupils all just end as each is fated,

You’d never know they had been educated.

FAUST
. The learned healer, every plant you know

By name, and how its deep roots grow;

You soothe the wounded, heal the sick—and here

I may embrace such strength, a mind so clear!

CHIRON
. I treated many an injured friend

In battle, helped them to recover;

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But I gave up my practice in the end—

The witches and the priests took over.

FAUST
. You act as truly great men do,

Disclaiming praise that is your due;

With an evasive modesty you speak,

Pretending you are not unique.

CHIRON. YOU
do a wily flatterer’s job;

You’d please a prince or rouse a mob.

FAUST
. Admit to me at least and say:

You saw the noblest heroes of your day—

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You longed for great deeds; how austere your life,

A demigod’s, an emulating strife!—

Say now, of all those valiant men you knew,

Which of them seemed the worthiest to you?

CHIRON
. The Argonauts—all were magnificent;

But in his own way each was excellent,

Inspired by some particular energy,

Outstanding in some special quality

The others lacked. Zeus’s Celestial Twins
*

Were always first where youthful beauty wins

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Renown; when swift resolve and help were needed,

The winged Boreads all the rest exceeded;

Jason led well, sagacious, strong, and wise

In councils, and he pleased all women’s eyes;

The contemplative tender Orpheus played

His lyre, and all with wonder were dismayed;

Steered by far-sighted Lynceus, night and day

The sacred ship pursued its perilous way.

Danger faced with companions—that’s the test:

When one acts, and earns praise from all the rest.

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FAUST
. And Hercules—did he not play a part?

CHIRON
. Oh, do not stir that passion in my heart!..

Apollo I had never met,

Nor what’s their names, Ares or Hermes yet,

When suddenly these eyes of mine

Beheld one whom mankind hail as divine.

Oh, he was born a king, and he

Grew up a youth most beautiful;

Yet humbly did his elder brother’s will

And served fair women most devotedly.

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Earth will not bear his like again,

Nor Hebe carry heavenwards

Another such. Vain here are poets’ words,

And sculptors hack their stones in vain.

FAUST
. Yet in your own words he is most

Alive, for all the sculptors’ boast.

Now of the finest man I’ve heard from you:

Describe the loveliest woman too!

CHIRON
. What!… Female beauty’s a mere mask,

Too often formal, cold and dead.

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Give me a living fountain-head

Of lively appetite for life, that’s what I ask!

Beauty remains serene and self-sufficing:

But grace is irresistibly enticing.

As Helen was, when once she rode me.

FAUST
. You carried her?

CHIRON
.               Yes, she bestrode me.

FAUST
. Oh, am I not enough confused

With joy! The very seat she used!

CHIRON
. Indeed, and by the hair she grasped me tight,

As you are doing.

FAUST
. Oh delight

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Beyond endurance! Tell me, how—

She is my only passion now!—

When did she ride you, where and why?

CHIRON
. That I can answer easily.

It was when bandits took her prisoner;

The Twins
*
came to her rescue. But those men,

Unused to such defeats, gave chase again

With renewed rage, nearly recapturing her:

She and her brothers faltered in mid course

At the Eleusinian swamp; I got across

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Splashing and swimming, the Twins waded; then

She jumped down, stroked my mane, all wet

It was, and thanked me; how can I forget

Her charming self-assurance, and how wise

Her sweet youth was, what joy to my old eyes!

FAUST
. A little girl of ten!…

CHIRON
.         You, I perceive,

Are misled by those scholars’ make-believe.

Mythical woman is a special case:

The poets freely choose her changing face.

She never need grow up, grow old,

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Or lose her looks; abducted, so we’re told,

As a young girl, wooed as an aged crone.

In short, the bard’s not bound by time—he makes his own.

FAUST
. So let it be with her: let no time bind her!

On Pherae
*
did not great Achilles find her,

Himself being outside time? What strange delight,

To win such love, defying fate’s dark might!

And shall I not, by passion’s power, draw

Back into life that unique form I saw?

Eternal, godlike being, tender as she

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Is noble, lovely in her sublimity!

You saw her once—I have seen her
today
;

She charms my eyes, she charms my heart away,

She rules me now, my fixed, my guiding star:

I cannot live till I find Helena!

CHIRON
. My dear sir, as a man you are entranced;

As spirits, we should call it an advanced

State of derangement. Luckily for you

It is my annual habit, for a few

Moments, to visit Manto: she’s the daughter

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Of Aesculapius. Silently she prays

To him that doctors in these latter days

May at last do him honour, mend their ways

And darkened minds, and cease their insolent slaughter