Читать книгу The Greatest German Classics (Vol. 1-14) - Various - Страница 709

The six days' labor of a god, my friend,

Who doth himself cry bravo, at the end,

By something clever doubtless should be crown'd.

For this time gaze your fill, and when you please

just such a prize for you I can provide;

How blest is he to whom kind fate decrees,

To take her to his home, a lovely bride!

[FAUST continues to gaze into the mirror.]

MEPHISTOPHELES [stretching himself on the settle and playing with the whisk, continues to speak.]

Here sit I, like a king upon his throne;

My sceptre this;—the crown I want alone.

THE MONKEYS (who have hitherto been making all sorts of strange gestures, bring MEPHISTOPHELES _a crown, with loud cries)

Oh, be so good,

With sweat and with blood

The crown to lime!

[They handle the crown awkwardly and break it in two pieces, with which they skip about.]

'Twas fate's decree!

We speak and see!

We hear and rhyme.

FAUST (before the mirror)

Woe's me! well-nigh distraught I feel!

MEPHISTOPHELES (pointing to the beasts)

And even my own head almost begins to reel.