MEPHISTOPHELES
I sought for hidden treasures, genuine gold—
And naught but hideous ashes forth I bore!
BACCALAUREUS
Confess that pate of yours, though bare and old,
Than yonder hollow skull is worth no more!
MEPHISTOPHELES (good-naturedly)
Thou know'st not, friend, how rude is thy reply.
BACCALAUREUS
In German to be courteous is to lie.
MEPHISTOPHELES (still moving his wheel-chair ever nearer to the proscenium, to the pit)
Up here I am bereft of light and air;
I perhaps shall find a refuge with you there?
BACCALAUREUS
When at their worst, that men would something be,
When they are naught, presumptuous seems to me.
Man's life is in the blood, and where, in sooth,
Pulses the blood so strongly as in youth?
That's living blood, which with fresh vigor rife,
The newer life createth out of life.
There all is movement, something there is done;
Falleth the weak, the able presses on!
While half the world we 'neath our sway have brought,
What have ye done? Slept, nodded, dream'd, and thought,
Plan after plan rejected;—nothing won.
Age is, in sooth, a fever cold,
With frost of whims and peevish need:
When more than thirty years are told,
As good as dead one is indeed:
You it were best, methinks, betimes to slay.