Faustus Part 8

Faustus pa.s.sed his time gaily among the women of the court, corrupting all those who were to be obtained by money or a fine face; whilst the drama of the favourite was rapidly hastening to a conclusion. He now revealed his finely-spun design to Baron H. The latter was to be the instrument of it; and as the glitter of gold was no longer at hand to sharpen his palled pa.s.sion for the minister's wife, and as the tears of the unfortunate daughter, the misery of the father, and the expected arrival of the crippled son, began to bear heavily upon his tender conscience, he determined at once to free himself of all these burdens.

His reward consisted in the Count's undertaking to persuade the Prince to send the Baron on an important mission to the imperial court. In consideration of this, the Baron was to procure the wife of the minister to purloin secretly, from the cabinet of her husband, a certain parchment, considered to be one of the most important t.i.tle-deeds of the princely house; and which the favourite was well aware would shortly be called for, on account of a certain law-suit with another ill.u.s.trious family. The Count then hoped to make it appear that the minister, for a sum of money, would have delivered it into the hands of the adversaries, if the favourite's watchfulness had not detected his treachery. The spouse of the minister, who thought that an old man who could no longer supply her with gold for her follies deserved no mercy, readily delivered the paper into the hands of the Baron, for whom she had the most doting fondness.

The minister was walking, in a melancholy manner, up and down his apartment. The sense of approaching shame, and the certainty of deceived love, had removed from him even his daughter, who latterly had been his only consolation. She was weeping in her chamber, and breaking a heart worthy of a better destiny. The minister's meditations were interrupted by his wife, who now came to reproach him, and thereby add to his misery.

Baron H. presently entered, and coolly demanded the commission, by virtue of which he was to act at the imperial court. As he brought with him the Prince's order for the same, the minister instantly went into his cabinet to fetch it. In the mean time the lady, who now first heard of the Baron's intended departure, began to rave at him in the agony of despair.

No sooner did the minister return with the Baron's commission than a messenger brought him a note from the Prince, in which he was commanded instantly to bring the t.i.tle-deed into court in order that it might be laid before the envoy of the adverse party. The minister searched the cabinet, emptied all his drawers of their contents, and the cold sweat of death began to trickle down his face. He questioned his secretaries and clerks, his wife also, and his daughter; but to no purpose. At length he was obliged to resolve, fortified as he was by his innocence, to expose himself to the dreadful storm. He hastened to the Prince, who was sitting alone with the Count, informed him of his misfortune, a.s.sured him of his innocence, and submitted to his destiny. The Count allowed the Prince to give way to his first indignation at this unwelcome intelligence, when, advancing very coolly, he took the t.i.tle-deed out of his own pocket, and delivered it to the Prince with a low bow. He then suffered himself to be closely questioned as to the means by which the deed came into his possession; but not until the Prince had threatened him with his displeasure did he confess, with the greatest apparent reluctance, the process of the affair according to his concerted plan.

The minister was dumb; this evidence of his guilt so confused him, that not even the consciousness of his innocence could dispel the darkness which had come over him. The Prince looked furiously upon him, and said: "I ought long since to have expected that you would endeavour to pay the debts of your waste and extravagance by betraying me." This last reproach in some degree restored the wretched man to his senses; he was about to speak, but the Prince commanded him to be silent, to resign his situation immediately, go home, and not leave his house till sentence should have been p.r.o.nounced upon him.

The minister accordingly went home, while big tears rolled down his cheeks. Despair forced from the daughter the secret of her shame, and from the wife the avowal of her crime. The strength of his spirit gave way, his senses became confused, and that most frightful of all visitations, insanity, drew a gloomy veil over the remembrance of the past, and, by the ruin of his mind, healed his heart of the wounds which his nearest and dearest had inflicted upon it.

It was at this moment that the Devil led Faustus into the chamber of the minister, having previously informed him of every particular of the affair. All the fibres of feeling were not yet entirely destroyed, and some few drops of paternal sensibility were yet falling from the eyes of the good old man upon the miserable daughter who was clasping his knees.

He smiled once more, played with her dishevelled locks, and smiled yet again. Suddenly his son rushed in, and was about to precipitate himself into his embrace. The father gave him a ghastly look; a wild shriek of madness, which thrilled through the nerves of every one present, burst from his heaving breast; and the poor sufferer became for ever an object of horror and painful compa.s.sion.

Faustus raged, and uttered the most frightful curses. He instantly determined to inform the Prince of the whole proceeding, and to unmask the traitors. The Devil smiled, and advised him to go softly to work if he wished thoroughly to know this Prince whom he boasted of as an impersonation of all human virtues. Faustus hastened to court; and certain, as he imagined, of being able to cause the ruin of the favourite by this discovery, he coolly communicated every thing to the Prince.

When he came to the motive which urged the Count to this horrible action, namely, his wish to free himself from his engagements with the daughter of the minister, the countenance of the Prince brightened; he sent for the Count, and embracing him on his entrance, said:

"Happy is the Prince who finds a friend who, out of obedience and the fear of displeasing him, dares commit an action which the common rules of morality condemn. The minister has always acted like a fool. I am glad that we have thus got rid of him. Thou wilt fill his situation much better."

Faustus stood for a moment petrified with horror. n.o.ble warmth soon, however, began to fire his breast. He depicted in frightful colours the present situation of the minister. He then burst into fury and reproaches, and, without the least reserve or fear, spoke like an avenger of humanity when unmasking a cold-blooded, hypocritical tyrant. He was turned out of the palace as a madman. He returned home, and the Devil received him with a triumphant air. Faustus said nothing, but gnashed his teeth, and, in his venomous wrath, rejoiced that he was entirely separated from the race of man.

About midnight the Count caused the Devil and Faustus to be arrested, and cast into a frightful dungeon. Faustus commanded the fiend to submit quietly, because he wished to see how far these hypocrites would carry their wickedness. When in prison, the dreadful scene of the day flitted before his mind's eye in colours of tenfold horror; and wild thoughts against Him who rules the destiny of man arose from the contemplation of it. His soul became inflamed; and at length he exclaimed, with scornful laughter:

"Where is here the finger of the G.o.dhead, and where is that Providence which presides over the path of the righteous? I see the just man insane, and the wretch who drove him to madness rewarded; I disclosed to the tyrant, who affects virtue, the wickedness of his favourite, and he found him only so much the more worthy of his friendship and favour. If this be the order and harmony of the moral world, then there is harmony and order in the brain of the poor lunatic, who is suffered to fall unprotected and unrevenged."

He continued, while the Devil listened and laughed: "But allowing that man is obliged, by necessity, to do every thing he does, then must his deeds and his actions be ascribed to the Supreme Being, and they thereby cease to be punishable. If nothing but what is good and perfect can flow from a Perfect Being, then are our deeds, horrible as they seem to us, good and perfect. If they are wicked, and in reality what they seem to us, then ought that Being to be looked up to with horror and aversion.

Come, fiend, resolve my doubts, and tell me what causes the moral misery of man."

_Devil_. A truce to your doubts! no one clothed in flesh is permitted to untie that knot, and _therefore_ _a thousand fools will hang_, _drown_, _and destroy themselves_. Do not, O Faustus, forget the end which we proposed to ourselves at our first interview. I promised to show thee men in their nakedness, in order to cure thee of the prejudices thou hadst imbibed from thy books, so that they might not disturb thee in the enjoyment of life. But when thou hast rid thyself of all these human frailties, and hast discovered that the pretended guidance of the Eternal One whom thou hast renounced on my account, and before whose sight thou mayst commit, undeterred, the most horrible atrocities, is only a delusion, perhaps thy soul will then have sufficient strength to understand these horrible mysteries; and, if so, I will reveal them to thee.

_Faustus_. Then, by the mysteries of evil which surround men from their birth to their grave, I shall yet be the greatest of my race; for, in summoning thee, I shall have threaded the labyrinth in which the rest must grope about to all eternity.

_Devil_. It is well that the rest of men do not possess the magic art which has enabled thee to render me thy subject, else would h.e.l.l soon be emptied; and thou wouldst see more devils walking upon the earth than there are saints in the Calendar. Heigh ho! I know what a troublesome life a devil has who is forced to put in execution all the designs of an honest heart and a sound head: what, then, would become of us, if every rascal and fool could call us out of h.e.l.l!

This observation of the Devil's was on the point of putting Faustus into a better humour; but his attention was almost immediately directed to another subject. Six armed men, with dark lanterns, followed by two executioners with empty sacks, now entered the dungeon. Faustus asked them what they wanted; and the leader answered, with great politeness: "We are merely come, sir, to request you and your honourable companion to creep into these sacks; for we are ordered to tie you up in them, and then fling you into the neighbouring stream." The Devil laughed aloud, and exclaimed: "See, Faustus, the Prince of --- wishes to cool in you that enthusiasm for virtue which you displayed so warmly before him to-day." Faustus looked furiously, and gave a sign: a fiendish roar instantly filled the arched vaults; the soldiers and executioners sunk trembling to the ground, and out flew the prisoners on the wings of the mighty wind.

Revenge now inflamed the breast of Faustus, and arrayed itself in the brilliant hues of a great and n.o.ble call. The idea of avenging mankind on its oppressors rushed through his brain, and he determined to employ the power of the Devil in clearing the earth of hypocrites and villains.

He therefore exclaimed:

"Fly this moment to the palace, and strangle the wretch who makes a game of virtue. Annihilate him who rewards the traitor, and knowingly treads upon the righteous man. Avenge mankind on him, in my name."

_Devil_. Faustus, thou art forestalling the vengeance of the Avenger.

_Faustus_. His vengeance sleeps, and the righteous man suffers; I will have him destroyed who wears only the mask of virtue.

_Devil_. Bid me, then, breathe pestilence and death over the whole earth, so that the whole race of man may perish. I tell thee, Faustus, thou art giving thyself useless trouble, and sending wretches down to h.e.l.l in vain; for things will still go on as they did, or perhaps worse.

_Faustus_. Crafty fiend, thou wouldst willingly save him in order that he might commit more crimes. Princes like him do indeed deserve thy protection, for they render virtue contemptible by rewarding villany.

Die he shall, and, loaded with his last deed, sink trembling into d.a.m.nation.

_Devil_. Know, thou fool, that the Devil rejoices over the death of a sinner; and what I said was merely to secure myself from thy future reproaches, and that thou mightest have no excuse remaining. The consequences of this deed be thine.

_Faustus_. Yes, be they mine. I will lay them in the scale against my sins. Hasten, and be firm. Be thou the arrow of my vengeance. Seize the favourite and hurl him among the sands of burning Libya, so that he may perish by inches.

_Devil_. Only private revenge, and spite in finding thyself deceived, drive thee to this.

_Faustus_. Babbling fiend! It is a solitary remnant of what you call my youthful prejudices which inspires me with angry thoughts at the sight of any atrocious act. If I could have seen and tolerated the wickedness of men, should I have wanted thee? Hasten and obey.

The Devil suffocated the Prince on his magnificent couch, then seized the trembling favourite and hurled him among the burning sands of Libya. He then returned to Faustus, and cried, "The deed is done!" They once more mounted the rapid winds, and sailed out of the country.

Faustus sat, melancholy, upon his horse; for, after they had pa.s.sed the frontiers, the Devil had changed their method of travelling. The history of the minister still gnawed his heart, and he was stung to the quick at being obliged to acknowledge that the Devil had as yet been right in respect to men; and the bitterness of his spirit increased in proportion as they displayed themselves to him in their true colours. Yet the idea of having avenged the unfortunate minister upon the hypocrites cheered him in the midst of his gloomy sorrows. Pride by degrees so inflated his heart, that he almost began to consider his alliance with the Devil as the act of a man who yields up his soul for the good of his race, and thereby surpa.s.ses all the heroes of antiquity, who merely sacrificed their temporal existence; nay more, for as they sacrificed themselves for the sake of glory, or for a recompense,--which he, on account of his engagement, could entertain no hopes of,--so at last he imagined that they were not worthy to stand for a moment in comparison with him. Thus, place men in whatever situation you will, they soon begin to feel happy, provided their self-love has an opportunity of working; for self-love can even gild the yawning gulf of h.e.l.l, as in the case of Faustus. He forgot, in his pride, the motives of his alliance with the Devil, and his thirst for pleasure and enjoyment; and while he sat upon his horse, his imagination dubbed him the knight-errant of virtue and the champion of innocence. The Devil rode by his side without once disturbing his meditations; for he only saw in each of these would-be n.o.ble feelings the sources of future torment and despair. His hatred of Faustus, however, increased in proportion as the ideal prospects of the latter brightened and expanded; he enjoyed, in antic.i.p.ation, the hour when all these airy visions would melt and disappear, and all these painted images of fancy would deck themselves in the livery of h.e.l.l, and tear the rash one's heart as the heart of mortal had never yet been torn. After a long silence, Faustus suddenly exclaimed: "Tell me how it fares with the false favourite."

_Devil_. He pants upon the scorched sands, and stretches his parched tongue from out his burning jaws, that the air and dew may refresh and moisten it; but no cooling wind blows there, and for a millennium there will fall no refreshing drop from heaven. His blood boils like molten metal in his veins, and the rays of the sun fall perpendicularly upon his bare head. Already is a curse against the Almighty conceived in his inflamed brain, but his tongue is unable to stammer it forth. He turns up the hot sand like a mole, in order that he may suck the damp earth; but thus he only digs his own grave. Is thy revenge satisfied?

_Faustus_. Revenge! Why dost thou call the exercise of justice revenge?

Here am I shedding cold drops of sweat through my skin at what thou hast been telling me; but I saw him laugh when I described to him and his patron the sufferings of the n.o.ble father and the ruined daughter.

_Devil_. Time, which slowly draws up the curtain, will at length disclose every thing. If the villanies of a petty despot and his catamite horrify thee, what wilt thou think when thou seest men who have a thousand times more power, and consequently will, to commit evil? We have, as yet, only removed the first skin of the monster: what will become of thee when we tear open his breast? Soon would He, to whom vengeance properly belongs, empty the magazine of his thunder, were he to destroy all those who, according to thy opinion, do not deserve to live.

Faustus was about to reply, when he saw afar off a village in a blaze.

As every thing uncommon excited his curiosity, he spurred forward his horse, and the Devil followed at his heels. He was soon met by a confused rout of knights and attendants, who had been vanquished by another party, which, however, did not pursue them. When they came nearer to the village, they found the plain strewed with the bodies of men and horses. They saw among the dead a miserable wretch, who, with both his hands, was endeavouring to force back his entrails, which were hanging out of his mangled belly. He howled and cursed frightfully during this horrid operation. Faustus asked him the cause of all this bloodshed. The fellow screamed, "Get to the Devil, Mr. Curiosity; if you saw your inside outmost, as I see mine, you would have no wish to answer questions. If you want to know why they have served me thus, inquire of that n.o.ble gentleman, my master, who lies there dead, and whom I have to thank for this treatment."

They left him, and approached a knight who was wounded in the shoulder, and Faustus put the same question to him. The knight answered: "A boor belonging to yon burning village killed, some time ago, a stag, the property of the mighty Wildgrave. Thereupon the Wildgrave demanded the culprit of my master, in order that he might be tied upon the back of a stag and run to death, according to the German custom. My master refused to give up the boor; but in order to punish him, seized every thing he possessed, and confiscated it to his own use. The Wildgrave then sent a letter of defiance to my lord, in the name of Heaven, and with the permission of the emperor. We were worsted in the battle, and the Wildgrave has set fire to the village, which he has surrounded with his hors.e.m.e.n, so that the inhabitants cannot escape; for he intends to fulfil the oath which he swore, viz. to roast all the peasants, like Michaelmas geese, for his hounds and wild-boars."

_Faustus_ (_furiously_). Where is his castle?

_Knight_. On yonder eminence; it is the strongest and most magnificent castle in the whole country.

Faustus rode to the top of a hill, and looked down upon the burning village, which lay beneath him in the valley. Mothers with children in their arms, old men, youths, and maidens rushed out, cast themselves at the feet of the hors.e.m.e.n, and begged for mercy. The Wildgrave shouted till the valley reechoed, "Drive the rabble back; they shall perish in the flames!" The peasants screamed out, again and again: "We are innocent! we are innocent! He who offended you has escaped. What have we and our children done? Ah, spare but them!" The hors.e.m.e.n whipped them up from the ground, and drove them into the fire. The poor mothers flung down their babes, in the hope that they would pity them; but the hoofs of the horses trampled them to death.

Faustus cried deliriously: "Fly, Devil, and return not till thou hast consumed the tyrant's castle, and all that is therein. When he returns home, let him find retribution."

The Devil laughed, shook his head, and flew away; whilst Faustus flung himself down beneath a tree, and gazed impatiently upon the castle. When he beheld it in flames, the madman imagined that he had restored all things to their right order, and received the Devil on his return with the utmost joy. The latter came back in triumph, and boasted of the ruin he had caused; and, pointing to the Wildgrave and his myrmidon, who were scampering towards the castle, he exclaimed: "The vapours of the h.e.l.lish pool will not, one day, strike him with such horror, O Faustus, as this thy deed: his young and beloved wife was a few days ago delivered of her firstborn."

_Faustus_. Oh, save her and the new-born babe!

_Devil_. It is too late. The mother pressed the boy in her arms, and he was burnt to ashes upon her bosom.

This episode made Faustus shudder, and he exclaimed, "How ready is the Devil to destroy!"

_Devil_. Not so ready as daring men are to decide and punish. Had ye but our might, ye would long ago have shattered the vast globe, and reduced it to a chaos. Are you not a proof of this yourself, since you so madly abuse the power which you have over me? Go to; go to. The man who does not bridle himself resembles the wheel which rolls down the steep: who can stop its course? It springs from rock to rock till it is shivered. Faustus, I would willingly have permitted the babe to grow up and commit sin; for I am now deprived both of him and his mother. Yes, Faustus; she endeavoured to preserve him from the scorching flames with her arms, the flesh of which was already frightfully burnt.

_Faustus_. Thou drivest it home to my very heart. (_Hiding his face in his mantle_, _already wet with his tears_.)

The desire of avenging the virtuous and the innocent upon the wicked now began to cool in the heart of Faustus. He however comforted his spirit, tormented by the last spectacle, with the thought of the mother and the suckling being preserved from h.e.l.l. Besides this, his hot blood, his eagerness for pleasure, his desire for change, and finally his doubts, did not permit any sensation to make a lasting impression upon his heart.

As he was attracted by every new object, his feelings, therefore, burnt like sky-rockets, which for a moment illumine the darkness of the night, and then suddenly disappear. The rich meal and the delicious wines which he enjoyed in the next city where they arrived soon chased away his melancholy fancies; and as the grand fair was being held there at that time, Faustus and the Devil, after they had dined, went into the market-place to see the crowd.

They now found themselves in a strange city. There lived in one of the convents a young monk, who had, by means of a heated imagination, succeeded in so powerfully convincing himself of the force of religious faith, that he believed he should be able to remove mountains, and to prove himself a new apostle in deeds and miracles, if once his soul received the true inspiration, and the Holy Spirit worked its way through him. Besides this, he imbibed all the follies and quackeries which others had rejected,--a circ.u.mstance in which visionaries entirely differ from philosophers. The young monk, like every theorist who is inspired with the importance of his subject, was a fiery orator; he thereby soon won over the minds of the simple, especially of the women, who were easily caught by any warm and impa.s.sioned appeal. His imagination, however, quickly formed for him another magic wand; for as he, on account of his alliance with the highest of all beings, had a lofty opinion of man, he formed the design of physiognomically dissecting the masterpiece of creation, this favourite of heaven, and of allotting to him his interior qualities by means of his exterior appearance. Men of his character so frequently deceive themselves, that it is impossible to say whether some remaining spark of understanding had whispered to him that this new delusion would give a fresh polish to the old one; and that more pious souls would come to him than ever, in order to be told so many wondrous things about their faces. As he had only seen the four walls of his cell, his penitents, and people of his own cast, and as he was as ignorant in regard to mankind, the world, and true science, as men of sanguine imaginations usually are,--it may be concluded that fancy alone excited him to this scheme. His words and his writings operated prodigiously upon the minds of all those who would much rather be confused than think clearly. This is the case with the greater part of mankind; and, as the hours of life glide away very pleasantly when self-love is tickled, it was impossible that he should be without disciples, for he flattered every body. Our monk did not confine his researches to man alone; for he descended to the more ign.o.ble beasts of the earth, allotted to them their qualities by examining their faces and the structure of their bodies, and imagined that he had made a wonderful discovery when he proved--from the mighty claws, the teeth, and the aspect of the lion, and from the tender, light fabric of the hare--why the lion was not a hare, and the hare a lion. He was strangely surprised that he had succeeded in pointing out so clearly the appropriate and unalterable signs of brute nature, and to be able to apply them to man,--although society has so much accustomed the latter to mask his features, that they are rarely to be seen in their primitive state. Not satisfied with these triumphs, our monk descended even into the kingdoms of the dead--tore skulls from the graves, and the bones of animals from the muck-heaps; and showed his visitors why the dead were dead, and, from their bones, how it was impossible that they should be otherwise than dead. In a word, he proved, clearly and unanswerably, that death never yet came without a cause.

The Devil was well aware of the general infatuation, and perceived that, while he and Faustus sat at dinner in the public room, some of the company, and even the innkeeper himself, were surveying them with the utmost attention; and were communicating to each other, in whispers, the result of their observations, and showing the profiles which they had secretly taken. The fame of the wonderful monk had long since reached the ears of Faustus; but he had hitherto paid so little attention to it, that he now hardly knew what to make of these signs and whisperings.