You are flattering me.
How did you like it, really?
FAUST
Well, as art
I think it splendid; as philosophy,
I hardly praise it. 'Tis a mood that comes
And has its will of us in its own hours—
Yes, irresistibly. But past the hour
Wait graver judges. I decline to be,
As you suggest delightfully, a fly
On the spoiled beer of life. Nor do I lean
Toward your ingenious blending of despair,
Satiety, and child's-play.
SATAN
Those who take
This attitude, however, swiftly grow
The darlings of existence—souls that sip
Of every flower the nectar, and are bound
Unto no laws or standards, but move free,
Viewing all things as relative.... And yet
Your special temperament may not prefer
Nectar. Those lines of sternness round your mouth
Convince me you are right; another cure
Better befits you. And a mighty one
I set before you, which has ever served
As lodestar for all high and glorious minds,
All kings of earth, all potentates of thought,
All great achievers. Power I offer you—
The one chief prize that all men have desired
And shall desire forever.
FAUST
Now you grow
Rather more interesting. What do you mean?
A crown and sceptre and a thousand slaves
To serve me?
SATAN
Do not jest. I offer you
The one sole reservoir where power to-day
Lies stored in sleeping cataracts. At noon
Come with me into Wall Street; take your stand;
Buy, sell, as I direct you; and one hour
Shall make you richer than you ever dreamed
In madness of desire. For three days more
Come there each noon again; at end of these,
If you have done my bidding, you shall be
Master of the finances of the world,
Despot of nations, unto whom the kings
And captains of the earth shall kneel to crave
Crumbs from the table. Then let pen and sword
Forget their quarrel for supremacy;
Since you can buy them both, or starve them both,
Or cast them to the wilderness! Such power
I offer as would make the pulses beat
Even of a skeleton!
FAUST