Dæm. If a mortal power assail Just. By opposing to thee now Dam. To my power they soon shall bow. Would our free will then be free? Dam. Come, 'tis bliss that thou wilt prove. Just. Dearly would I gain it so. How delighted must the audience have been at this victory over the demon, by the mere announcement of a faith in God! Unable to give Cyprian the real Justina, the demon determines on deceiving him with a phantom. A figure enveloped in a cloak appears, and bids Cyprian follow. In the next scene Cyprian enters with the fancied Justina in his arms. In his transport he takes off the cloak, and instead of Justina discovers a Skeleton, who replies to his exclamation of horror: Asi, Cipriano, son Todas las glorias del mundo! 'Such are the glories of this world,' a truly Catholic sentiment! In this terrific situation we recognize Calderon the inquisitor, and Calderon the playwright, but Calderon the artist we do not recognize. As piece of stage effect this skeleton is powerfully conceived; as a religious warning it is equally powerful; as art it is detestable. It is a fine situation, though he has used it twice elsewhere; but the consistency of the play is violated by it. If the demon wished to seduce Cyprian, would he have attempted to do so by such means? No. But Calderon here, as elsewhere, sacrifices everything to a coup de théâtre. Cyprian exasperated at the deception, demands an explanation. The demon confesses that he is unable to force Justina, as she is under the protection of a superior power. Cyprian asks who that power is. The demon hesitates, but is at length obliged to own that it is the God of the Christians. Cyprian seeing that God protects those who believe in him, refuses to own allegiance to any other. The demon is furious, and demands Cyprian's soul, who contends that the demon has not fulfilled his share of the compact. Words run high: Cyprian draws his sword and stabs the demon, of course without avail, another stage effect. The demon drags him away, but, like Justina, he calls God to his aid, and the demon rushes off discomfited. Cyprian becomes a Christian, and Justina assures him of his salvation in spite of his sins, for no tiene Tantas estrellas el cielo, Tantas arenas el mar, Tantas centellas el fuego, Como él perdona pecados. Justina and Cyprian are condemned as heretics and burned at Antioch, martyrs of the Christian faith. The demon appears riding on a serpent in the air, and ad dresses the audience, telling them that God has forced him to declare the innocence of Justina and the freedom of Cyprian from his rash engagement. Both now repose in the realms of the blessed. These analyses will enable the reader to perceive how Marlowe and Calderon have treated the old story, each in a spirit conformable to his genius and his age; the one presenting a legend in its naïveté, the other a legend as the vehicle for religious instruction. Goethe taking up the legend in an age when the naïve belief could no longer be accepted, treated it likewise in a way conformable to his genius and his age. The age demanded that it should be no simple legend, but a symbolical legend, not a story to be credited as fact, but a story to be credited as representative of fact; for although the rudest intellect. would reject the notion of any such actual compact with Satan, the rudest and the loftiest would see in that compact a symbol of their own desires and struggles. To prove that this is no ex post facto explanation, suggested to suit Goethe's poem, I need only refer to the numerous attempts (such as those of Lessing, Maler Müller, Lenau, and Bailey's Festus) to fuse a modern spirit into the old myth. In each of these the symbolical meaning is the vital principle of the poem; the meaning of course taking its direction from each individual mind. Lessing's attempt is but a fragment; the works of Lenau and Bailey are too well known to warrant analysis here; but Maler Müller's play, as less known, may be briefly described. The scene is that of a Gothic church in ruins. The demons are assembled. Lucifer speaks sarcastically of the weakness and meanness of the age: there are now no great crimes committed, no great men to seduce; everything is vulgar, commonplace, mediocre; vice is common, but crime is rare. Lucifer complains of this monotony ; Mogol, the demon of money, complains also that he has no longer rivers of gold to pour into the lap of one man who would make good use of it; men calculate, save and amass treasures penny by penny; the largest sums fall into the hands of the judges and of mothers who sell their daughters. Cacal, the demon of voluptuousness, declares his intention of quitting the world where he has no longer any employment. A woman deceives her husband, a lover seduces a girl, luxury enters into every house, runs in every vein, and men sin and damn themselves without the devil's aid. Atoti, the master of literature, then arrives, almost stupefied with the bad verses, pompous harangues, and ridiculous phrases he has heard, disgusted with the clamors of authors who by turns flatter and decry each other, who place crowns upon their own heads, call themselves men of genius, bestow on each other patents of immortality, and finally sink to sleep upon the very works with which they have made their readers sleep. Lucifer sighs to think of the state of the world; but Mephistopheles reassures him, and promises to bring him a man who is really great, Dr. Faust. Lucifer awaits the fulfilment of this promise, threatening to abdicate his throne if it be not fulfilled. Mephistopheles takes with him a troop of demons, and departs in quest of Faust. The satire of this prologue is very transparent and very trivial; it is neither the artlessness of mediæval feeling, nor the searching, cutting satire, which finds the seat of disease and extirpates it: amusing enough to read once, it is the sort of thing which might be written by many a man of talent in the course of an hour. Faust dwells in Ingolstadt, where he is much renowned for his science, but little for his conduct. The students have profound respect for him, but the tradespeople refuse him credit. Knellius, whom he has humiliated by his su periority - Knellius the proud, cowardly, envious pedant - has roused against him a troop of Jews, workmen and vagabonds. Faust is accused of being about to become bankrupt; the usurers come to demand of him the capital and interest of the sums they have lent him; the workmen demand payment for what they have done for him; and Knellius is at the head of them, inciting and encouraging them. During this time Faust is gambling in a wine-cellar he has already lost the greater part of his property; he stakes the whole on a single throw, and loses. A tempest rages without; the cries of the multitude pursuing Faust are now heard. The gamblers fly; Faust remains alone, furious and despairing. A voice speaks to him from the air. I extinguish the light,' says Faust, and speak with you in darkness. If you are a friend, prove it to me; if not, remain in hell.' 6 A curtain is raised, and discovers various sacks of gold and silver. The voice says, 'I give to my friend the wealth of this world.' Is that true?' asks Faust. Another curtain is raised, and discovers crowns, sceptres and orders of nobility. The grandeurs of this world to him I befriend!' exclaims the voice. A third curtain is raised, and discovers groups of lovely girls dancing together to soft music. The voice again speaks, 'The joys of this world belongs to him who belongs to me!' There is one joy remaining, Faust remarks, whereupon another curtain is raised, and discovers a library, with a bust of Faust crowned with a laurel wreath. Yes, it was re Oh, how those The Voice. Honor and fame to those who follow me! Faust. Where am I? Is this reality or fancy? ality; I feel it by the impression still remaining. pictures entranced me! how I long to possess them! I am his who showed them to me. Let him come, therefore! Come, powerful spirit, if thou canst satisfy my desires! Come! I call thee! |