Frosch. And yet I thought our drink was wine!
Bran. How was it with the grapes and vine?
Alt. Let any one hereafter tell

Me not to trust in miracle!

SCENE.-THE WITCH'S KITCHEN.

A fire is burning on a low hearth. A large cauldron is hanging over it. In the fumes which rise from the vessel various figures are seen. A Female Monkey is sitting by the cauldron, skimming it, and taking care that it does not boil over. The Male Monkey, with the young ones, is sitting near the fire, warming himself. The walls and ceiling are decked with the rarest articles and utensils of Witchery.

FAUST, MEPHISTOPHELES.

Faust. With loathing deep I feel my soul imbued
For this mad witchcraft-dost thou promise me

That I shall really ever be renew'd

In this wild Chaos of insanity?

And do I need advice in aught
That can by an old hag be taught?
Will all her filthy cookery

From off this body really steal
Full thirty years ?-Ah! woe is me,
If nothing better you reveal!
Hope is departed from me ;-can
It be that in all nature's round,
Search'd by the noble soul of man,

No such a draught was ever found!

Meph. My friend, in this you wisely speak again,

Nature one means of growing young affords ; Another book, though, does the lore contain, And 'tis a chapter strange, the mode records. Faust. Oh! tell it me!

Meph.

If you the means would hold

Without physician, sorcery, or gold,

Betake yourself forthwith into the field,

And hack and dig—the spade and mattock wield;
Yourself, and all your thoughts, confine

Within a narrow bounding line;

Be all your food of simplest kind,
Live as a beast, the beasts among,
And never let it in your mind

Be deem'd a robbery or wrong,
If you yourself manure the soil
That yields its harvest to your toil.

Trust me- -this mode 's the best, to give
One youth—though eighty years one live !
Faust. To this I never yet was used-nor can
I e'er to take the spade in hand submit.
It suits me not, this narrowest life of man-

Meph. Then must the Witch, at last, accomplish it.
Faust. Why the Witch only? Can not you

Yourself this magic potion brew?

Meph. A pretty pastime! I could build the while

A thousand bridges, and with less of toil!

Not only skill and science doth it ask,
But patience, too, is wanted for the task:
A quiet spirit is content

For years to fashion and produce;
By time alone that power is lent,

That gives its virtue to the juice.

And all the things of which 'tis wrought

Are wondrous of their kind, and rare, True! by the devil she was taught,

Yet cannot he the draught prepare.

Behold! in truth, a pretty pair,
The maiden this-the boy is there.
It seems the Mistress is away!
Monkeys. To the feast she 's sped,
From the house has fled

[Looking at the Monkeys.

[Addressing them.

Out from the chimney-stone to stray
Meph. And pray, how long then may it be,
She for her rovings doth require?

Monkeys. A time about as long, as we

May warm our paws before the fire.

Meph. (to FAUST). What think you of this pretty pair? Faust. Such bestial things ne'er met mine eye.

Meph. Nay! a discourse like this, I swear,

Is just what I prefer to try.

[Speaking to the Monkeys.

But say, cursed whelps, what is it you
Are in this porridge stirring up?

Monkeys. Coarse beggars' broth we cook—
Meph.

Will come, then, with you here to sup.

No few

He Monkey (approaching and fawning on MEPH.).

Oh! throw me the dice,

Make me rich in a trice;

Oh, quick let me money but gain!

Now my fate is but sad,—

But if money I had,

Full soon should I honour obtain.

Meph. How blest the brute would think himself to be,

Could he but throw into the lottery!

[The Young Monkeys, who have been playing with a glass globe, now roll it forwards.

He Monkey. This is the world,
That rises and sinks;

It rolleth unceasing,

Like glass it clinks;
How soon that breaketh!

All empty its core,
Here brightly it shineth,
And here still more.

I live for ever,

Son! do not try!

To come nearer-
-for thou

Art of those who die !

This is clay-and when it breaketh,

Potsherds on the earth it maketh!

Meph. What is this sieve for?

He Monkey. (taking it).

Oh! if thou

Wert but a thief-I'd know thee now !

[He goes to the She Monkey, and makes her look through it.

Look through!—the thief

Dost know him well!

And darest thou not

His name to tell?

Meph. (approaching the fire). And here this pot? He Monkey. The silly sot!

He knows it not

He knoweth not the kettle!
Meph. You churlish brute !

He Monkey.

And sit down on the settle!

Here take this brush

Faust. (who during this time has been standing before a mirror, sometimes approaching, and sometimes receding from it.)

What do I look on! What a form of heaven,
Within this magic mirror meets my gaze!
Love! let to me thy swiftest wing be given,

To waft me to the region where she strays! Ah! when I leave this single spot,

Or venture to approach more near, She fades, and I behold her not,

She seems in mist to disappear!

A woman's beauteous form-oh! can it be,
Such loveliness was e'er to woman given !
In those soft limbs reposing, must I see

The inmost essence of each brighter heaven?
Oh! must I seek on earth in vain

This vision's likeness to obtain ?

Meph. Why, when a God six days has wrought,
And at the finish, "Bravo!" cries,

'Tis naturally to be thought

That something clever should arise.

This time, your eye with gazing sate,
I can obtain you such a fair;

And his will be a happy fate,

Who her, as bridegroom, home shall bear.

[FAUST remains looking into the mirror; MEPHISTOPHELES lies down on the settle, and plays with the brush, continuing to speak.

Here sit I, like a king upon his throne;

The sceptre 's here-I want a crown alone!

Monkeys (who have this while been making all sorts of strange gestures to each other, bringing a crown to MEPHISTOPHELES, with loud cries).

Here is a crown-but be so good

As glue it on with sweat and blood!

[They handle the crown awkwardly, break it in two pieces,

and jump about with them.

Now 'tis done. We see and speak,

We can hear, and rhymes can make !

Faust (gazing in the mirror). Woe to thee, Faust! my

soul I feel

Begins in frenzy wild to reel !