BRANDER
The eternal God in heaven forgive you this!
FAUST
The Devil I can foil, but not my friends!
Strange allies to his cause! Well, dusk was long
My portion; now all gathering storms of hate
Are less than naught to me. Six months ago,
When here I stood that memorable night,
My gloom was starless; now one fiery star
Pierces it. And this broken frame of mine
Cannot annul that much of victory—
The solace born of passion to destroy
That shall survive me if indeed I die.
Alone my life was lived; if now I go,
It is alone into a quiet grave
Above whose mound the fairer future days
Shall pass, and I not know them. Yet my night
Takes foregleam from the vision of that dawn
And I am solaced. And I leave my solace
As heritage to the ever widening few
Who after me shall triumph more than I
In dawns of flaming.
BRANDER
O my friend, my friend,
I would my tongue could cry as my heart cries—
Turn back from darkness before the hour has struck!
Even yet may mercy fold you. God is great
And tender; and perhaps His love may clasp
Even your aloofness, if at last your heart
Calls in repentance to Him. O Faust, Faust,
Sink your vain pride of spirit—kneel to Him—
Beseech His mercy ere it is too late!
FAUST
I am no melancholy death-bed scene
To claim your tears, dear Brander. Doubtless days
Of infinite scope lie yet before me, since
No oracle has foretold that I shall die.
But if I die, then go I singing down,
Not praying or repentant, to my grave.
I would smite again the altar! I would smite
The hearts bowed before it; all the world
And the Beyond-world would I rend, having seen
Serpents in their secret places.
BRANDER
Has no breath
Of heavenly love touched this corrosive core
Of hell-fire in you?