Men, in all times, by craft and terror,
With One and Three, and Three and One,
For truth have propagated error.
With One and Three, and Three and One,
For truth have propagated error.
Faust, a Tragedy by Goethe
These creatures,
These frantic gestures and distorted features,
And all the crazy, juggling fluff,
I've known and loathed it long enough!
_Mephistopheles_. Pugh! that is only done to smoke us;
Don't be so serious, my man!
She must, as Doctor, play her hocus-pocus
To make the dose work better, that's the plan.
[_He constrains_ FAUST _to step into the circle_. ]
THE WITCH
[_beginning with great emphasis to declaim out of the book_]
Remember then!
Of One make Ten,
The Two let be,
Make even Three,
There's wealth for thee.
The Four pass o'er!
Of Five and Six,
(The witch so speaks,)
Make Seven and Eight,
The thing is straight:
And Nine is One
And Ten is none--
This is the witch's one-time-one! [24]
_Faust_. The old hag talks like one delirious.
_Mephistopheles_. There's much more still, no less mysterious,
I know it well, the whole book sounds just so!
I've lost full many a year in poring o'er it,
For perfect contradiction, you must know,
A mystery stands, and fools and wise men bow before it,
The art is old and new, my son.
Men, in all times, by craft and terror,
With One and Three, and Three and One,
For truth have propagated error.
They've gone on gabbling so a thousand years;
Who on the fools would waste a minute?
Man generally thinks, if words he only hears,
Articulated noise must have some meaning in it.
_The witch [goes on_]. Deep wisdom's power
Has, to this hour,
From all the world been hidden!
Whoso thinks not,
To him 'tis brought,
To him it comes unbidden.
_Faust_. What nonsense is she talking here?
My heart is on the point of cracking.
In one great choir I seem to hear
A hundred thousand ninnies clacking.
_Mephistopheles_. Enough, enough, rare Sibyl, sing us
These runes no more, thy beverage bring us,
And quickly fill the goblet to the brim;
This drink may by my friend be safely taken:
Full many grades the man can reckon,
Many good swigs have entered him.
[_The_ WITCH, _with many ceremonies, pours the drink into a cup;
as she puts it to_ FAUST'S _lips, there rises a light flame_. ]
_Mephistopheles_. Down with it! Gulp it down!
These frantic gestures and distorted features,
And all the crazy, juggling fluff,
I've known and loathed it long enough!
_Mephistopheles_. Pugh! that is only done to smoke us;
Don't be so serious, my man!
She must, as Doctor, play her hocus-pocus
To make the dose work better, that's the plan.
[_He constrains_ FAUST _to step into the circle_. ]
THE WITCH
[_beginning with great emphasis to declaim out of the book_]
Remember then!
Of One make Ten,
The Two let be,
Make even Three,
There's wealth for thee.
The Four pass o'er!
Of Five and Six,
(The witch so speaks,)
Make Seven and Eight,
The thing is straight:
And Nine is One
And Ten is none--
This is the witch's one-time-one! [24]
_Faust_. The old hag talks like one delirious.
_Mephistopheles_. There's much more still, no less mysterious,
I know it well, the whole book sounds just so!
I've lost full many a year in poring o'er it,
For perfect contradiction, you must know,
A mystery stands, and fools and wise men bow before it,
The art is old and new, my son.
Men, in all times, by craft and terror,
With One and Three, and Three and One,
For truth have propagated error.
They've gone on gabbling so a thousand years;
Who on the fools would waste a minute?
Man generally thinks, if words he only hears,
Articulated noise must have some meaning in it.
_The witch [goes on_]. Deep wisdom's power
Has, to this hour,
From all the world been hidden!
Whoso thinks not,
To him 'tis brought,
To him it comes unbidden.
_Faust_. What nonsense is she talking here?
My heart is on the point of cracking.
In one great choir I seem to hear
A hundred thousand ninnies clacking.
_Mephistopheles_. Enough, enough, rare Sibyl, sing us
These runes no more, thy beverage bring us,
And quickly fill the goblet to the brim;
This drink may by my friend be safely taken:
Full many grades the man can reckon,
Many good swigs have entered him.
[_The_ WITCH, _with many ceremonies, pours the drink into a cup;
as she puts it to_ FAUST'S _lips, there rises a light flame_. ]
_Mephistopheles_. Down with it! Gulp it down!
