unfinished edifice, when the flames, rearing up, threatened to reduce it to ashes. The Genius looked mournfully upon the slain, and on those who had been intoxicated by the deceitful beverage; but he encouraged the rest, and inspired them, by his firmness and his dignity, with strength and patience. They extinguished the flames; replaced what the others had overturned; and laboured, amid death and destruction, with so much zeal, that, in spite of the fury and malignity of their foes, they raised at length a vast and sublime temple. The Genius then healed the wounded, comforted the weary, praised the bold warriors, and conducted them all, amid songs of triumph, into the temple. The foes stood confounded at the enormous work; and, after they had in vain attempted to shatter its solidity, they retreated, with rage in their hearts. Faustus now found himself upon the island. The field around the majestic building was covered with dead bodies of all ages and of both sexes; and those who had tasted of the enchanted cup walked coolly among the corpses, disputed with each other,
and laughed at and criticised the structure of the temple. Faustus went past them, and as he approached the edifice he read over the entrance the following words: “Mortal, if thou hast bravely struggled, and hast remained faithful, enter, and learn to know thy noble destiny.”
At these words he felt his heart leap with joy, and he hoped to be now able to penetrate the obscurity which had so long tormented him. With bold and daring pace he ran up the lofty steps, and caught a glimpse of the interior of the edifice, which seemed filled with the roseate colours of morning. He heard the soft voice of the Genius, and was about to enter; but the gate of brass closed before him with a harsh sound, and he recoiled in terror. His desire to penetrate into the secrets of the temple was increased by the impossibility. All of a sudden he felt wings, and rising high into the air, he precipitated himself furiously against the brazen gate, was hurled back, and started out of his sleep just as he was on the point of touching the ground. He opened his eyes in dismay. A ghastly figure,
wrapped in a winding-sheet, drew back the curtains of his bed. He recognised the features of his old father, who, gazing upon him for a moment, said, in a lamentable voice:
“Faustus! Faustus! never yet did father beget a more unfortunate son; and in this feeling I have just died. For ever—ah! for ever!—must the gulf of damnation lie between thee and me.”
The portentous dream and this horrible apparition filled the soul of Faustus with affright. He sprang from his bed, and opened the window to inhale the fresh air. Before him lay the enormous Alps, whose tops were just gilded by the rising sun. He surveyed them for some time, and at last fell into a profound reverie. He trembled as he thought of his nocturnal vision, and was endeavouring to explain to himself its most prominent passages, when, falling anew into his cruel doubts, he exclaimed:
“Whence came those monsters who attacked the industrious labourers? By whom were they authorised to disturb and destroy them while engaged in their noble occupation? Who permitted
it? Was he who permitted it unable, or did he not wish, to hinder it? And why did the Supreme Genius protect and save only a part of them who were assailed by those cannibals? Were some predestined to perish, in order that the others might triumph and taste repose? Who, then, will dare to tell me that I am not one of those who are born with destruction for their lot? What evil had those unfortunates committed, and why should those be esteemed criminal who, pressed by a burning thirst, endeavoured to quench it by tasting the enchanted cup?”
Faustus wandered for a long time in a maze of doubt; but, remembering the apparition of his father, it brought back to his mind his long-forgotten family. He instantly determined to return to them; to become again a member of society; to resume his business; and to get rid of his infernal companion. He pursued his journey towards home like many others, who, mistaking the ardour of insensate youth for genius, enter upon the career of the world with high pretensions, and, having quickly exhausted the little fire
which their souls possess, soon find themselves a burden to their kindred and their friends, at the very place from whence they started. Faustus brooded over all this, while he rode silently and moodily by the side of the Devil.