Masters of the Theatre

by Delphi Classics

  OLD MOOR. Amelia! my daughter! Amelia! (Holds her tightly grasped in his arms.)

  CHARLES (starting back). Who brings this image before my eyes.

  AMELIA (tearing herself away from the old man, rushes upon CHARLES, and embraces him in an ecstasy of delight). I have him, O ye stars! I have him!

  CHARLES (tearing himself away, to the ROBBERS). Let us be gone, comrades! The arch fiend has betrayed me!

  AMELIA. My bridegroom, my bridegroom! thou art raving! Ha! ’Tis with delight! Why, then, am I so cold, so unfeeling, in the midst of this tumult of happiness?

  OLD MOOR (rousing himself). Bridegroom? Daughter! my daughter! Thy bridegroom?* *[Instead of this the stage edition has, “Come my children! Thy hand, Charles — and thine, Amelia. Oh! I never looked for such happiness on this side the grave. Here let me unite you forever.”]

  AMELIA. His forever! He forever, ever, mine! Oh! ye heavenly powers! support me in this ecstasy of bliss, lest I sink beneath its weight!

  CHARLES. Tear her from my neck! Kill her! Kill him! Kill me — yourselves — everybody! Let the whole world perish! (About to rush of.)

  AMELIA. Whither? what? Love! eternity! happiness! never-ending joys! and thou wouldst fly?

  CHARLES. Away, away! most unfortunate of brides! See with thine own eves; ask, and hear it with thine own ears! Most miserable of fathers! Let me escape hence forever!

  AMELIA. Support me! for heaven’s sake support me! It is growing dark before my eyes! He flies!

  CHARLES. Too late! In vain! Your curse, father! Ask me no more! I am — I have — your curse — your supposed curse! Who enticed me hither? (Rushing upon the ROBBERS with drawn sword.) Which of you enticed me hither, ye demons of the abyss? Perish, then, Amelia! Die, father! Die, for the third time, through me! These, thy deliverers, are Robbers and Murderers! Thy Charles is their Captain! (OLD MOOR expires.)

  [AMELIA stands silent and transfixed like a statue. The whole band are mute. A fearful pause.]

  CHARLES (rushing against an oak). The souls of those I have strangled in the intoxication of love — of those whom I crushed to atoms in the sacredness of sleep — of those whom — Ha! ha! ha! do you hear the powder-magazine bursting over the heads of women in travail? Do you see the flames creeping round the cradles of sucklings? That is our nuptial torch; those shrieks our wedding music! Oh! he forgetteth none of these things! — he knoweth how to connect the — links in the chain of life. Therefore do love’s delights elude my grasp; therefore is love given me for a torment! This is retribution!

  AMELIA. ’Tis all true! Thou Ruler in heaven! ’Tis all true! What have I done, poor innocent lamb? I have loved this man!

  CHARLES. This is more than a man can endure. Have I not heard death hissing at me from more thousands of barrels, and never yet moved a hair’s breadth out of its way. And shall I now be taught to tremble like a woman? tremble before a woman! No! a woman shall not conquer my manly courage! Blood! blood! ’tis but a fit of womanish feeling. I must glut myself with blood; and this will pass away. (He is about to fly.)

  AMELIA (sinking into his arms). Murderer! devil! I cannot — angel — leave thee!

  CHARLES (thrusting her from him). Away! insidious serpent! Thou wouldst make a mockery of my frenzy; but I will bid defiance to my tyrant destiny. What! art thou weeping? O ye relentless, malicious stars! She pretends to weep, as if any soul could weep for me! (AMELIA falls on his neck.) Ha! what means this? She shuns me not — she spurns me not. Amelia! hast thou then forgotten? Dost thou remember whom thou art embracing, Amelia?

  AMELIA. My only one, mine, mine forever!

  CHARLES (recovering himself in an ecstasy of joy). She forgives me, she loves me! Then am I pure as the ether of heaven, for she loves me! With tears I thank thee, all-merciful Father! (He falls on his knees, and bursts into a violent fit of weeping.) The peace of my soul is restored; my sufferings are at an end. Hell is no more! Behold! oh behold! the child of light weeps on the neck of a repentant demon! (Rising and turning to the ROBBERS). Why are ye not weeping also? Weep, weep, ye are all so happy. O Amelia! Amelia! Amelia! (He hangs on her neck, they remain locked in a silent embrace.)

  A ROBBER (stepping forward enraged). Hold, traitor! This instant come from her arms! or I will speak a word that shall make thy ears tingle, and thy teeth chatter with horror! (He holds his sword between them.)

  AN AGED ROBBER. Remember the Bohemian forests! Dost thou hear? dost thou tremble? Remember the Bohemian forests, I tell thee! Faithless man! where are thy oaths? Are wounds so soon forgotten? Who staked fortune, honor, life itself for thee? Who stood by thee like walls, and like shields caught the blows which were aimed at thy life? Didst not thou then lift up thy hand and swear an iron oath never to forsake us, even as we forsook not thee? Base, perfidious wretch! and wouldst thou now desert us at the whining of a harlot?

  A THIRD ROBBER. Shame on thy perjury! The spirit of the immolated Roller, whom thou didst summon from the realms of death to attest thy oath, will blush at thy cowardice, and rise from his grave full armed to chastise thee.

  THE ROBBERS (all in disorder, tearing open their garments). See here! and here! Dost thou know these scars? Thou art ours! With our heart’s blood we have bought thee, and thou art ours bodily, even though the Archangel Michael should seek to wrest thee out of the grasp of the fiery Moloch! Now! March with us! Sacrifice for sacrifice, Amelia for the band!

  CHARLES (releasing her hand). It is past! I would arise and return to my father; but heaven has said, “It shall not be!” (Coldly.) Blind fool that I was! why should I wish it? Is it possible for a great sinner to return? A great sinner never can return. That ought I long since to have known. Be still! I pray thee be still! ’Tis all as it should be. When He sought me I would not; now that I seek him, He will not. What can be more just? Do not roll about thine eyes so wildly. He — has no need of me. Has He not creatures in abundance? One he can easily spare, and that one am I. Come along, comrades!

  AMELIA (pulling him back). Stay, I beseech you! One blow! one deadly blow! Again forsaken! Draw thy sword, and have mercy upon me!

  CHARLES. Mercy has taken refuge among bears. I will not kill thee!

  AMELIA (embracing his knees). Oh, for heaven’s sake! by all that is merciful! I ask no longer for love. I know that our stars fly from each other in opposition. Death is all I ask. Forsaken, forsaken! Take that word in all its dreadful import! Forsaken! I cannot survive it! Thou knowest well that no woman can survive that. All I ask is death. See, my hand trembles! I have not courage to strike the blow. I shrink from the gleaming blade! To thee it is so easy, so very easy; thou art a master in murder — draw thy sword, and make me happy!

  CHARLES. Wouldst thou alone be happy? Away with thee! I will kill no woman!

  AMELIA. Ha! destroyer! thou canst only kill the happy; they who are weary of existence thou sparest! (She glides towards the robbers.) Then do ye have mercy on me, disciples of murder! There lurks a bloodthirsty pity in your looks that is consoling to the wretched. Your master is a boaster and a coward.

  CHARLES. Woman, what dost thou say? (The ROBBERS turn away.)

  AMELIA. No friend? No; not even among these a friend? (She rises.) Well, then, let Dido teach me how to die! (She is going; a ROBBER takes aim at her.)

  CHARLES. Hold! dare it! Moor’s Amelia shall die by no other hand than Moor’s. (He strikes her dead.)

  THE ROBBERS. Captain! captain! what hast thou done? Art thou raving?

  CHARLES (with his eyes fixed on the body). One more pang and all will be over. She is immolated! Now, look on! have you any farther demand? Ye staked a life for me, a life which has ceased to be your own — a life full of infamy and shame! I have sacrificed an angel for you. Now! look upon her! Are you content?

  GRIMM. You have repaid your debt with usury. You have done all that man could do for his honor, and more. Now let’s away.

  CHARLES. What say you? Is not the life of a saint for the life of a felon more than an equal exchange? Oh! I s
ay unto you if every one of you were to — mount the scaffold, and to have his flesh torn from his bones piecemeal with red-hot pincers, through eleven long summer days of torture, yet would it not counterbalance these tears! (With a bitter laugh.) The scars! the Bohemian forests! Yes, yes! they must be repaid, of course!

  SCHWARZ. Compose yourself, captain! Come along with us! this is no sight for you. Lead us elsewhere!

  CHARLES. Stay! one word more before we proceed elsewhere. Mark me, ye malicious executioners of my barbarous nod! from this moment I cease to be your captain.* *[The acting edition reads,— “Banditti! we are quits. This bleeding corpse cancels my bond to you forever. From your own I set you free.” ROBBERS. “We are again your slaves till death!” CHARLES. “No, no, no! We have done with each other. My genius whispers me, ‘Go no further, Moor. Here is the goal of humanity — and thine!’ Take back this bloody plume (throws it at their feet). Let him who seeks to be your captain take it up.”]

  With shame and horror I here lay down the bloody staff, under which you thought yourselves licensed to perpetrate your crimes and to defile the fair light of heaven with deeds of darkness. Depart to the right and to the left. We shall never more have aught in common.

  THE ROBBERS. Ha! coward! where are thy lofty schemes? were they but soap-bubbles, which disperse at the breath of a woman?* *[In lieu of this soliloquy and what follows, to the end, the acting edition has: —

  R. MOOR. Dare not to scrutinize the acts of Moor. That is my last command. Now, draw near — form a circle around me, and receive the last words of your dying captain. (He surveys them attentively for some time.) You have been devotedly faithful to me, faithful beyond example. Had virtue bound you together as firmly as vice, you would have been heroes, and your names recorded by mankind with admiration. Go and offer your services to the state. Dedicate your talents to the cause of a monarch who is waging war in vindication of the rights of man. With this blessing I disband you. Schweitzer and Kosinsky, do you stay. (The others disperse slowly, with signs of emotion.)]

  SCENE VIII. R. MOOR, SCRWETTZER, and KOSINSKY.

  R. MOOR. Give me thy right hand, Kosinsky — Schweitzer thy left. (He takes their hands, and stands between, them; to KOSINSKY,) Young man, thou art still pure-amongst the guilty thou alone art guiltless! (To SCHWEITZER.) Deeply have I imbrued thy hand in blood. ’Tis I who have done this. With this cordial grasp I take back mine own. Schweitzer! thou art purified! (He raises their hands fervently to heaven.) Father in heaven! here I restore them to thee. They will be more devoted to thy service than those who never fell. Of that I feel assured. (SCHWEITZER and KOSINSKY fall on his neck with fervor.) Not now — not now, dear comrades. Spare my feelings in this trying hour. An earldom has this day fallen to my lot — a rich domain on which no malediction rests. Share it between you, my children; become good citizens; and if for ten human beings that I have destroyed you make but one happy, my soul may yet be saved. Go — no farewell! In another world we may meet again — or perhaps no more. Away! away! ere my fortitude desert me. [Exeunt both, with downcast countenances.]

  SCENE IX. And I, too, am a good citizen. Do I not fulfil the extremity of the law? Do I not honor the law? Do I not uphold and defend it? I remember speaking to a poor officer on my way hither, who was toiling as a day-laborer, and has eleven living children. A thousand ducats have been offered to whoever shall deliver up the great robber alive. That man shall be served. [Exit.]

  CHARLES. Oh! fool that I was, to fancy that I could amend the world by misdeeds and maintain law by lawlessness! I called it vengeance and equity. I presumed, O Providence! upon whetting out the notches of thy sword and repairing thy partialities. But, oh, vain trifling! here I stand on the brink of a fearful life, and learn, with wailing and gnashing of teeth, that two men like myself could ruin the whole edifice of the moral world. Pardon — pardon the boy who thought to forestall Thee; to Thee alone belongeth vengeance; Thou needest not the hand of man! But it is not in my power to recall the past; that which is ruined remains ruined; what I have thrown down will never more rise up again. Yet one thing is left me whereby I may atone to the offended majesty of the law and restore the order which I have violated. A victim is required — a victim to declare before all mankind how inviolable that majesty is — that victim shall be myself. I will be the death-offering!

  ROBBERS. Take his sword from him — he will kill himself.

  CHARLES. Fools that ye are! doomed to eternal blindness! Think ye that one mortal sin will expiate other mortal sins? Do you suppose that the harmony of the world would be promoted by such an impious discord? (Throwing his arms at their feet.) He shall have me alive. I go to deliver myself into the hands of justice.

  ROBBERS. Put him in chains! he has lost his senses!

  CHARLES. Not that I have any doubt but that justice would find me speedily enough if the powers above so ordained it. But she might surprise me in sleep, or overtake me in flight, or seize me with violence and the sword, and then I should have lost the only merit left me, that of making my death a free-will atonement. Why should I, like a thief, any longer conceal a life, which in the counsels of the heavenly ministry has long been forfeited?

  ROBBERS. Let him go. He is infected with the great-man-mania; he means to offer up his life for empty admiration.

  CHARLES. I might, ’tis true, be admired for it. (After a moment’s reflection.) I remember, on my way hither, talking to a poor creature, a day-laborer, with eleven living children. A reward has been offered of a thousand louis-d’ors to any one who shall deliver up the great robber alive. That man shall be served.

  [Exit.]

  FAUST: PART ONE by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

  1806

  Translated by Anna Swanwick and Illustrated by Abraham Hayward

  Goethe’s Faust in two parts is the author’s most famous work and the tragedy is considered by many to be the greatest work in all of German literature. Goethe completed a preliminary version of Part One in 1806, which he published later in 1808. The tragedy concerns the traditional story of Doctor Faust, who makes a compact with the devil (Mephistopheles). Faust is the protagonist of a classic German legend; a highly successful scholar, but also dissatisfied with his life, and so makes a deal to exchange his soul for unlimited knowledge and worldly pleasures. Faust’s tale is the basis for many literary, artistic and musical works.

  Goethe’s first part is structured as a sequence of scenes in a variety of settings. After a dedicatory poem and a prelude in the theatre, the plot opens with a prologue in Heaven, where the Lord challenges Mephistopheles, the Devil, that Mephistopheles cannot lead astray the Lord’s favourite striving scholar, Dr. Faust. Faust is presented in his study, attempting and failing to gain knowledge of nature and the universe by magic means. The depressed Faust contemplates suicide, but is held back by the sounds of Easter celebrations. He joins his assistant Wagner for a walk in the countryside, among the celebrating people, and is followed home by a poodle. Back in the study, the poodle transforms itself into Mephistopheles, who offers Faust an iniquitous contract for his soul.

  Faust remains a resonant parable on scientific learning, religion, independence and love, in which Goethe places science and power in the context of a morally interested metaphysics, raising probing questions about the purpose of life altogether.

  The first edition

  This play was taken from our Complete Works edition:

  CONTENTS

  DRAMATIS PERSONÆ

  DEDICATION

  PROLOGUE FOR THE THEATRE

  PROLOGUE IN HEAVEN

  NIGHT

  BEFORE THE GATE

  STUDY

  STUDY

  AUERBACH’S CELLAR IN LEIPZIG

  WITCHES’ KITCHEN

  A STREET

  EVENING. A SMALL AND NEAT ROOM

  PROMENADE

  THE NEIGHBOR’S HOUSE

  A STREET

  GARDEN

  A SUMMER-HOUSE

  FOREST AND CAVERN

/>   MARGARET’S ROOM

  MARTHA’S GARDEN

  AT THE WELL

  ZWINGER

  NIGHT. STREET BEFORE MARGARET’S DOOR

  CATHEDRAL

  WALPURGIS-NIGHT

  INTERMEZZO: WALPURGIS-NIGHT’S DREAM

  A GLOOMY DAY. A PLAIN

  NIGHT. OPEN COUNTRY

  DUNGEON

  An early etching of Faust by the Dutch artist Rembrandt

  The 1994 Czech film adaptation

  The 2011 Russian film adaptation

  DRAMATIS PERSONÆ

  Characters in the Prologue for the Theatre.

  THE MANAGER. THE DRAMATIC POET. MERRYMAN.

  Characters in the Prologue in Heaven.

  THE LORD.

  RAPHAEL}

  GABRIEL} The Heavenly Host.

  MICHAEL}

  MEPHISTOPHELES.

  Characters in the Tragedy.

  FAUST.

  MEPHISTOPHELES.

  WAGNER, a Student.

  MARGARET.

  MARTHA, Margaret’s Neighbor.

  VALENTINE, Margaret’s Brother.

  OLD PEASANT.

  A STUDENT.

  ELIZABETH, an Acquaintance of Margaret’s.

  FROSCH }

  BRANDER } Guests in Auerbach’s Wine Cellar.

  SIEBEL }

  ALTMAYER }

  Witches, old and young; Wizards, Will-o’-the-Wisp, Witch Peddler,

  Protophantasmist, Servibilis, Monkeys, Spirits, Journeymen,

  Country-folk, Citizens, Beggar, Old Fortune-teller, Shepherd, Soldier,

  Students, etc.

  In the Intermezzo.

  OBERON. TITANIA. ARIEL. PUCK, ETC., ETC.

  DEDICATION

  Ye wavering shapes, again ye do enfold me,