IN THE GARDEN
The three at table
BAUCIS (to the stranger)
Art thou dumb? No morsel raising
To thy famished lips?
PHILEMON
I trow,
He of wonders so amazing
Fain would hear; inform him thou.
BAUCIS
There was wrought a wonder truly,
Yet no rest it leaves to me;
Naught in the affair was duly
Done, as honest things should be!
PHILEMON
Who as sinful can pronounce it?
'Twas the emperor gave the shore;—
Did the trumpet not announce it
As the herald passed our door?
Footing firm they first have planted
Near these downs. Tents, huts, appeared;
O'er the green, the eye, enchanted,
Saw ere long a palace reared.
BAUCIS
Shovel, axe, no labor sparing,
Vainly plied the men by day;
Where the fires at night shone flaring,
Stood a dam, in morning's ray.
Still from human victims bleeding,
Wailing sounds were nightly borne;
Seaward sped the flames, receding;
A canal appeared at morn!
Godless is he, naught respecting;
Covets he our grove, our cot;
Though our neighbor, us subjecting,
Him to serve will be our lot.
PHILEMON
Yet he bids, our claims adjusting,
Homestead fair in his new land.
BAUCIS
Earth, from water saved, mistrusting,
On thine own height take thy stand.
PHILEMON
Let us, to the chapel wending,
Watch the sun's last rays subside;
Let us ring, and prayerful bending,
In our father's God confide!
PALACE
Spacious ornamental garden; broad, straight canal. FAUST in extreme old age, walking about, meditating.
LYNCEUS, THE WARDER (through a speaking trumpet)
The sun sinks down, the ships belated
Rejoicing to the haven steer.
A stately galley, deeply freighted,
On the canal, now draweth near;
Her chequer'd flag the breeze caresses
The masts unbending bear the sails:
Thee now the grateful seaman blesses,
Thee at this moment Fortune hails.
[The bell rings on the downs.]
FAUST (starting)
Accursed bell! Its clamor sending,
Like spiteful shot it wounds mine ear!
Before me lies my realm unending;
Vexation dogs me in the rear;
For I, these envious chimes still hearing,
Must at my narrow bounds repine;
The linden grove, brown but thence peering,
The moldering church, these are not mine.
Refreshment seek I, there repairing?
Another's shadow chills my heart,
A thorn, nor foot nor vision sparing,—
O far from hence could I depart!
WARDER (as above)
How, wafted by the evening gales, Blithely the painted galley sails; On its swift course, how richly stored! Chest, coffer, sack, are heaped aboard. A splendid galley, richly and brilliantly laden with the produce of foreign climes.
MEPHISTOPHELES. THE THREE MIGHTY COMRADES
CHORUS
Here do we land,
Here are we now.
Hail to our lord;
Our patron, thou!
(They disembark. The goods are brought ashore.)