Has the cock's-feather, too, escaped
attention?
Faust, a Tragedy by Goethe
These last whimper_.
]
MEPHISTOPHELES
[_inverting the brush which he holds in his hand, and striking
among the glasses and pots_].
In two! In two!
There lies the brew!
There lies the glass!
This joke must pass;
For time-beat, ass!
To thy melody, 'twill do.
[_While the_ WITCH _starts back full of wrath and horror. ]
Skeleton! Scarcecrow! Spectre! Know'st thou me,
Thy lord and master? What prevents my dashing
Right in among thy cursed company,
Thyself and all thy monkey spirits smashing?
Has the red waistcoat thy respect no more?
Has the cock's-feather, too, escaped attention?
Hast never seen this face before?
My name, perchance, wouldst have me mention?
_The witch_. Pardon the rudeness, sir, in me!
But sure no cloven foot I see.
Nor find I your two ravens either.
_Mephistopheles_. I'll let thee off for this once so;
For a long while has passed, full well I know,
Since the last time we met together.
The culture, too, which licks the world to shape,
The devil himself cannot escape;
The phantom of the North men's thoughts have left behind them,
Horns, tail, and claws, where now d'ye find them?
And for the foot, with which dispense I nowise can,
'Twould with good circles hurt my standing;
And so I've worn, some years, like many a fine young man,
False calves to make me more commanding.
_The witch [dancing_]. O I shall lose my wits, I fear,
Do I, again, see Squire Satan here!
_Mephistopheles_. Woman, the name offends my ear!
_The witch_.
MEPHISTOPHELES
[_inverting the brush which he holds in his hand, and striking
among the glasses and pots_].
In two! In two!
There lies the brew!
There lies the glass!
This joke must pass;
For time-beat, ass!
To thy melody, 'twill do.
[_While the_ WITCH _starts back full of wrath and horror. ]
Skeleton! Scarcecrow! Spectre! Know'st thou me,
Thy lord and master? What prevents my dashing
Right in among thy cursed company,
Thyself and all thy monkey spirits smashing?
Has the red waistcoat thy respect no more?
Has the cock's-feather, too, escaped attention?
Hast never seen this face before?
My name, perchance, wouldst have me mention?
_The witch_. Pardon the rudeness, sir, in me!
But sure no cloven foot I see.
Nor find I your two ravens either.
_Mephistopheles_. I'll let thee off for this once so;
For a long while has passed, full well I know,
Since the last time we met together.
The culture, too, which licks the world to shape,
The devil himself cannot escape;
The phantom of the North men's thoughts have left behind them,
Horns, tail, and claws, where now d'ye find them?
And for the foot, with which dispense I nowise can,
'Twould with good circles hurt my standing;
And so I've worn, some years, like many a fine young man,
False calves to make me more commanding.
_The witch [dancing_]. O I shall lose my wits, I fear,
Do I, again, see Squire Satan here!
_Mephistopheles_. Woman, the name offends my ear!
_The witch_.
