Learn how to feel the pulse adroitly, and boldly clasp them, with hot wanton looks, around the tapering hip, to see how tightly it is laced. STUDENT. There is some sense in that; one sees at any rate the where and the how. MEPHISTOPHeles. Grey, my dear friend, is all theory, and green the golden tree of life. STUDENT. I vow to you, all is as a dream to me. Might I trouble you another time to hear your wisdom speak upon the grounds. MEPHISTOPHeles. I am at your service, to the extent of my poor abilities. STUDENT. I cannot possibly go away without placing my common-place book in your hands. Do not grudge me this token of your favour. MEPHISTOPHeles. With all my heart. (He writes and gives it back.) STUDENT reads. Eritis sicut Deus, scientes bonum et malum. (He closes the book reverentially, and takes his leave.) MEPHISTOPHEles. Only follow the old saying and my cousin the snake, Where you please; to see the little, then the great world. With what joy, what pleasure, will you revel through the course. FAUST. But with my long beard, I want the easy manners of life. I shall fail in the attempt. I never knew how to accommodate myself to the world; I feel so little in the presence of others. I shall be in a constant state of embarrassment. MEPHISTOPHeles. My dear friend, all that will come of its own accord; so soon as you feel confidence in yourself, you know the art of life. FAUST. How, then, are we to start? riages, horses, and servants? Where are your car MEPHISTOPHEles. We have only to spread out the mantle; that shall bear us through the air. Only you will take no heavy baggage on this bold trip. A little inflammable air, which I will prepare, will lift us quickly from this earth; and if we are light, we shall mount rapidly. I wish you joy of your new course of life. AUERBACH'S WINE VAULTS IN LEIPZIG. (Drinking bout of merry Fellows.) FROSCH. Will no one drink? no one laugh? I will teach you to grin. Why you are like wet straw to-day, yet at other times you blaze brightly enough. BRANDER. That is your fault; you contribute nothing towards it: no nonsense, no beastliness— FROSCH. (Throws a glass of wine over his head.) There are both for you! BRANDER. You double hog! FROSCH. Why you wanted me to be so! SIEBEL. Out with him who quarrels! With open heart sing Runda! swill and shout! holla, holla, ho! ALTMAYER. Woe is me, I am lost. Cotton, here! the knave splits my ears. SIEBEL. It is only when the arch echoes again, that one feels Right; out with him who takes any thing amiss. A taralara da! ALTMAYER. A! taralara! FROSCH. Our throats are tuned. (He sings.) The dear, holy Romish empire, how holds it still together? BRANDER. A nasty song! psha, a political song! an offensive song. Thank God every morning of your life, that you have not the Romish empire to care for. I, at least, esteem it no slight gain that I am not emperor nor chancellor. But we cannot do without a head. We will choose a pope. You know what sort of qualifica tion turns the scale, and elevates the man. (FROSCH sings.) Soar up, Madam Nightingale, give my sweetheart ten thousand greetings for me. SIEBEL. No greeting to the sweetheart; I will not hear of it. |