Mr. Faust Part 21

Oh, goody, goody!

[_Faust enters the hall and mounts the platform. He busies himself for a moment adjusting the reading desk; then turns toward the audience, gripping the desk steadily, and waits a moment more for the stir to subside._

FAUST

I come before you with unwilling lips-- Not led by eagerness, or wont of speech; Being not of those who easily proclaim Small miracles to move you. But the force Of grave necessity has bid me cast All thought save one aside, and in your midst, Utter strange words, with lips that must obey The soul that wills not silence.

For I come Announcing not the common verities Of learned books, or laboratory lore, Or ancient heresies; as speaks the fool, So speak I--from my heart. What I have seen, That shall you see, and with grim gladness hold Close in your hearts. Yes, all the world shall see it-- I am a tower burning to light the world!

(_He pauses a moment, meditatively_)

OLD WOMAN (_whispering_)

He has a good opinion of himself.

FAUST

I have beheld the toil and pain of life, Its emptiness and defeat; I have beheld Hearts, weary with recurrence of the days That held no sweetness, turn in trust to where In high aerial s.p.a.ces far from earth G.o.d in his heaven to all the weary ones Offers a refuge. And in such a mood Was I, too, led toward heaven by one whom now I know my foe--Satan. Toward G.o.d I turned, Seeking in Him fulfilment of all hopes That earth had thwarted. Then, in the hour of prayer And revelation, from my deepest breast Flashed lightnings. And I saw the Lord of Hosts High on a mountain, inaccessible To yearning men, who, mastered by a dream, Turn skyward from our dark and struggling earth.

I saw the crafty Satan urging on The heavenward-yearning myriads, while the world Lay like a stagnant quagmire, to his sway Wholly abandoned, and man's mortal house Burned in fierce conflagration of corruption.

And lo! the lightnings from my heart smote forth Across the heavens; and G.o.d dissolved like cloud, And through the cloud peered Satan's sinister face.

Friends: G.o.d is dead; your G.o.d and mine is dead.

And Satan in his place--Satan who is The father of the G.o.ds--lures on your hearts Unto an idol in the untrodden skies, That, while ye dream oblivious in the void, The earth may crumble. Or if G.o.d there be, He is the G.o.d of dying hearts and spent-- A deity of chaos, for whose ends One thing alone is mete--ruin of life, Of loathings and of longings that on earth Restlessly grapple with the powers of h.e.l.l.

I know not if in regions yet unguessed Some G.o.ds may dwell, of nature fit to guide Us, the adventurers of an earthly fight.

But I have seen with eyes that cannot lie That they reside not in this Devil's net-- This heavenly trust, this labyrinth of peace, Which draws men on to nothingness....

And I cry With all the pa.s.sion of my baffled soul-- Cast down your G.o.d! Cast down your peace and trust In His far Will! It is a solace mete For slaves, not men. With bitter hand, destroy This idol of destruction! Smite all haunts Of faith and resignation and defeat And rest and peace and comfort. Heaven and earth Alike are poisoned: somnolence in heaven, Decay on earth is regnant. Every faith And law and nation must in wreck go down For us who see the death that taints their halls; And ruin shall walk reckless through the world, Destroying tombs where life is daily slain!

(_Faust pauses_)

BRANDER (_rises suddenly from his place in the audience_)

My friends, I came to listen, not to speak.

But when such words as these from impious lips Fall lightly, I must rise here to refute Their poisonous message. Three days since, I stood With this man in the sacred halls of G.o.d, And witnessed in his heart the glory grow Of G.o.d's bright hope. Then suddenly from h.e.l.l, Or from his own deep, labyrinthine heart, Sprang fiends to s.n.a.t.c.h him back from heaven's clear gate And G.o.d's deliverance. And his bitter lips, By thirst so nearly quenched made bitterer yet, Cried blasphemies against the powers of heaven And all bright starry hopes that light our days With faith and glory. And the hand of G.o.d, Inscrutably withheld, smote him not dumb, But suffered him to go. Now in our sight He rises to proclaim his searing doubt, His hot destroying pa.s.sion, and tears down Our fairest altars. I, who was his friend, Hereby renounce him; and in sober words Counsel all men to flee the company Of one who hates the great hopes of the world!

[_As Brander sits down, there is some scattered applause in the audience. Faces are turned toward him. Midge sits motionless, her face buried in her hands._

FAUST

I scarce foresaw that my laborious task Should profit by the aid of willing hands So freely offered. Well, the Devil moves still Unchained on earth; and while he toils, your toil Is of small matter. You have ranged yourself With things fast dying; and our feet--the feet Of trampling hordes--shall pa.s.s above your head, As we shall pa.s.s over all creeds and laws, All stately chambers and respected homes And hearths and council-halls and sleek vile marts-- We, the destroyers of destruction!

BUTCHER

Here!

Don't you go shaking any fist at me!

GIRL

I think it's awful. Someone ought to stop him.

MERCHANT'S WIFE

The man is crazy!

OLD PLUMBER

Say! Would you destroy s.p.a.ce and Time, too?

YOUNG PLUMBER

Hooray for h.e.l.l broke loose!

BUTCHER

Out with him! He's an anarchist!

BANKER

I'm not Religious; but I cannot stand for that.

YOUNG STUDENT

Oh, let him have a chance!

BUTCHER

Not if I know it!

d.a.m.n such a man!

[_Satan suddenly rises in his place with commanding gestures. The people stare at him, and after a moment are silent to hear him speak._

SATAN

My friends, I think we all-- Or most of us--agree that talk like this Is a destructive influence, to be met With frowns, in justice to society.

Such words disgrace humanity, affront Respectability, and fill with shame Our hearts for such a speaker. Yet the rogue Requires but rope to save the law the toil Of trial and execution. I bespeak, Therefore, your patience for this gentleman; Till he has time to wind the hempen knot Securely round his throat, let us sit by And hear him further.

FAUST

Thank you. You begin Well in my service.

SATAN

Aye, indeed, indeed!

You don't suppose a mouse-trap baits itself?

Friends, let us hear him.

RICH YOUNG MAN

That sounds sensible.