Part 2
ATROPOS: Me, the eldest, to spin Have they invited this time; Much to think, much to ponder There is at the tender thread of life. That it be supple and soft for you, I knew to pick the finest flax; That it be smooth and slender and even, The clever finger shall straighten. Would you at pleasure and dances Too lavishly comport yourselves, Think of this thread's limits, Beware! It might snap.
KLOTHO: Know, in these last days The shears were entrusted to me; For one was not edified By the conduct of our elder. Useless webs she dragged Long into light and air, Hope of splendid gain She cuts, leading to the grave. Yet even I, in youthful rule, Have erred a hundred times; To hold myself in check today, The shears rest in their case. And so I am gladly bound, Look friendly on this place; You in these free hours Go on dreaming ever and ever.
LACHESIS: To me, who alone am sensible, Ordering was assigned; My care, ever living, Has never hurried. Threads come, threads pass, Each I guide its course, None let I stray, Fitting in the circle. Could I forget myself once, I should fear for the world; Count hours, measure years, And the weaver takes the strand.
HERALD: Those now coming, you shall not know, Were you never so learned in old writings; To behold them, who cause so much ill, You would call them welcome guests. The Furies they are, none will believe us, Pretty, well-formed, friendly, young in years; Engage with them, you shall learn How serpent-like such doves wound. Though they are malicious, yet on this day, Where every fool boasts of his faults, They too demand not the fame of angels, Confess themselves as plague of city and land.
ALEKTO: What avails you? you shall trust us, For we are pretty and young and coaxing kittens; Has one among you a sweetheart, We shall scratch his ears so long, Until we may say to him, eye to eye: That she at once to this and that one beckons, In head foolish, in back crooked, and limping, And, if she be his bride, good for nothing. Thus we know how to press the bride too: Even the friend, but few weeks past, Spoke contemptible things of her!-- If reconciled, yet something sticks.
MEGÆRA: That is but jest! for, are they once united, I take it up and know; in all cases, To embitter the fairest bliss by whim; Man is unequal, unequal are the hours. And none holds the desired fast in arms, Who does not foolishly long for the more desired, From the highest bliss, to which he grew accustomed; He flees the sun, would warm himself at frost. With all this I know how to deal And lead hither Asmodeus, the faithful, In due time to scatter what is accursed, Thus ruining mankind in pairs.
TISIPHONE: Poison and dagger instead of evil tongues I mix, I sharpen for the traitor; Love you another, sooner, later Ruin has pierced you through. Must the sweetest of moments Turn to froth and gall! Here no bargaining, here no dealing-- As he committed it, he atones. Sing none of forgiving! To the rock I complain my cause, Echo! hark! answers: Revenge! And who changes, shall not live.
HERALD: Be pleased to step aside, For what now comes is not of your like. You see how a mountain presses near, With colored carpets proudly hung on its flanks, A head with long teeth, serpent snout, Mysterious, yet I show you the key. On its neck sits daintily-tender a woman, With fine rod she guides it precisely; The other, standing above, glorious and sublime, Is surrounded by a radiance that blinds me too much. Aside go chained noble women, One anxious, the other glad to behold; One wishes, the other feels herself free. Let each proclaim who she is.
FEAR: Misty torches, lamps, lights Glimmer through the confused feast; Between these deceptive faces Binds me, ah! the chain fast. Away, you ridiculous laughers! Your grinning gives suspicion; All my adversaries Press me in this night. Here! a friend has become foe, His mask I already know; That one would murder me, Now discovered, sneaks away. Ah how gladly in every direction I'd flee to the world outside; Yet from yonder threatens destruction, Holds me between mist and horror.
HOPE: Greeted be, you dear sisters! Have you in today and yesterday Taken pleasure in disguises, Yet I know surely of all: Tomorrow you would unveil. And if by torchlight We do not especially delight, We shall in cheerful days Quite according to our own will Soon sociable, soon alone Freely through fair meadows wander, Rest and act as we please And in carefree life Never lack, ever strive; Everywhere welcome guests, We step in with confidence: Surely, the best Must somewhere be found.
PRUDENCE: Two of the greatest enemies of man, Fear and Hope, chained, I keep from the community; Make way! you are saved. The living colossus I lead, you see, tower-laden, And he walks undaunted Step by step on steep paths. Above though on the battlement That goddess, with swift Broad wings, to the gain Of all sides to turn. Around her surrounds glory and splendor, Shining far to all sides; And she names herself Victoria, Goddess of all activities.
ZOILUS-THERSITES: Hoo! hoo! I come just in time, I scold you all together badly! Yet what I chose for my aim, Is up there Lady Victoria. With her white pair of wings She thinks herself, forsooth, an eagle, And where she but turns, All folk and land belong to her; Yet, where aught praiseworthy succeeds, It puts me straight in armor. The deep high, the high deep, The crooked straight, the straight crooked, That alone makes me well, So will I on earth's round.
HERALD: So strike you, you rogue-hound, The master-stroke of the pious staff! There curl and writhe at once!-- How the double-dwarf shape So quickly balls to a loathsome lump!-- --But wonder!--Lump becomes an egg, That swells and bursts in two. Now falls a twin pair out, The adder and the bat; The one away in dust creeps, The other black to the ceiling flies. They hasten outside to union; There would I not be the third.
MURMUR: Fresh! behind they already dance-- No! I wish I were away-- Feel you, how that wraps us round, The ghostly brood?-- It whizzes me over the hair-- I became aware of it at the foot-- None of us is hurt-- Yet all put in fear-- Quite spoiled is the jest-- And the beasts wanted that.
HERALD: Since to me at masquerades Herald-duties are laid on, I watch earnestly at the gate, That here at the merry place Nothing pernicious may sneak in, Neither waver, neither yield. Yet I fear, through the windows Draw airy ghosts, And from haunting and sorcery I'd not know to free you. Made himself suspect the dwarf, now! There! behind it streams mightily. The meaning of the figures Would I unfold by office. But what is not to be grasped, I'd not know to explain; Help all to instruct me!-- See you it sweep through the crowd? Four-in-hand a splendid wagon Is borne through everything; Yet it divides not the crowd, Nowhere see I a throng. Color glitters in the distance, Wandering shine colored stars Like from magic lantern, Snorts near with storm-force. Make way! It shudders me! +
BOY CHARIOTEER: Halt! Steeds, check your wings, Feel the accustomed rein, Master yourselves, as I master you, Rush forth when I inspire-- These spaces let us honor! Look around, how they multiply, The admirers, circle on circle. Herald up! after your fashion, Ere we flee from you, To depict us, to name us; For we are allegories, And so should you know us.
HERALD: Would not know to name you; Rather could I describe you.
BOY CHARIOTEER: So try it! +
HERALD: One must confess: First, you are young and beautiful. Half-grown boy you are; yet the women, They might wish you quite full-grown. You seem to me a future wooer, Right so by nature a seducer.
BOY CHARIOTEER: That is to be heard! proceed, Invent the cheerful word of the riddle.
HERALD: The black lightning of the eyes, the night of the locks, Lightened by jewelled band! And what a dainty garment Flows from your shoulders to the socks, With purple hem and glitter-gear! One might scold you a girl; Yet would you, to weal and woe, Even now count among girls, They'd teach you the ABC.
BOY CHARIOTEER: And this one, who as splendid image Here on the chariot-throne gleams?
HERALD: He seems a king rich and mild, Well for him who gains his favor! He has naught further to strive for, Where aught lacked, his glance spies, And his pure joy in giving Is greater than possession and fortune.
BOY CHARIOTEER: Hereby you must not stand still, You must describe him precisely.
HERALD: The worthy describes not itself. Yet the healthy moon-face, A full mouth, blossomed cheeks, That under the ornament of the turban pride; In folded robe a rich content! What shall I say of the bearing? As ruler he seems to me known.
BOY CHARIOTEER: Plutus, named god of riches! The same comes here in pomp, The high emperor desires him greatly.
HERALD: Say of yourself too the what and how!
BOY CHARIOTEER: Am Profusion, am Poetry; Am the poet who perfects himself, When he squanders his own good. Also I am immeasurably rich And esteem myself equal to Plutus, Animate and adorn for him dance and feast, What lacks him, that I distribute.
HERALD: The boasting becomes you all too fair, Yet let us see your arts.
BOY CHARIOTEER: Here see me but snap my fingers, Already it glitters and glistens round the wagon. There springs a string of pearls forth! Take golden clasp for neck and ear; Also comb and little crown without flaw, In rings the costliest jewel; Also little flames I grant now and then, Awaiting where they may kindle.
HERALD: How grabs and snatches the dear crowd! The giver almost comes in the throng. Jewels he snaps like a dream, And all grab in the wide space. Yet there I experience new hisses: What one but so eagerly grasped, Of that he has indeed poor reward, The gift flutters away from him. It dissolves, the pearl-band, In his hand creep beetles, He throws them away, the poor wretch, And they buzz about his head. The others instead of solid things Catch impious butterflies. How the knave promises so much And only grants what golden gleams!
BOY CHARIOTEER: True, masks, I note, you know to proclaim, But the kernel of the shell to fathom, Are not herald's court-affairs; That demands sharper sight. Yet I guard against any feud; To you, commander, turn I question and speech. Have you not entrusted to me the wind-bride Of the four-in-hand? Drive I not luckily, as you lead? Am I not there, where you point? And knew I not on bold swings For you the palm to win? How oft I also fought for you, It succeeded me every time: When laurel decks your brow, Have I not woven it with sense and hand?
PLUTUS: If needful that I bear you witness, So say I gladly: Are spirit of my spirit. You act ever after my mind, Are richer than I myself. I esteem, to reward your service, The green bough before all my crowns. A true word I proclaim to all: My dear son, in you have I pleasure.
BOY CHARIOTEER: The greatest gifts of my hand, See! have I sent round about. On this and that head glows A little flame, that I sprayed; From one to the other it hops, On this holds, from that slips, Full seldom though it flames upward, And shines swiftly in brief bloom; Yet many, ere one yet knew it, It goes out, sadly burnt out.
WOMEN'S GOSSIP: Up there on the four-in-hand That is surely a charlatan; Perched behind there Hanswurst, Yet wasted by hunger and thirst, As one never yet beheld; He feels not, when one pinches him.
THE EMACIATED: Off my body, loathsome womankind! I know, I never please you.-- When yet the wife tended the hearth, Then was I called Avaritia; Then stood it well with our house: Only much in and naught out! I strove for chest and shrine; That should, forsooth, be a vice. Yet as in newest years The wife is no more used to save, And, like every evil payer, Has far more desires than dollars, There remains the man much to endure, Where he but looks, there are debts. She turns it, can she spin aught, On her body, on her paramour; Also feeds she better, drinks still more With the wooers' lamentable host; That heightens in me the gold's allure: Am of male sex, the stinginess!
CHIEF WOMAN: With dragons may the dragon hoard; 'Tis after all deceit and fraud! He comes, to incense the men, They are already troublesome enough.
WOMEN IN MASS: The scarecrow! Reach him a slap! What will the martyr-wood threaten us? We shall shun his grimace! The dragons are of wood and pasteboard, Fresh on and press upon him!
HERALD: By my staff! Keep quiet!-- Yet needs my help scarce; See, how the grim misshapen ones, Moved in the quickly-won space, Unfold the double pair of wings. Indignantly shake themselves the dragons' Scaly, fire-spewing jaws; The crowd flees, the place is clear.
HERALD: He steps down, how kingly! He waves, the dragons stir, The chest have they from the wagon Brought near with gold and stinginess, It stands at his feet: A wonder how it happened.
PLUTUS: Now you are loosed from the too-troublesome weight, Are free and frank, now fresh to your sphere! Here it is not! Confused, piebald, wild Presses round us here a mask-like shape. Only where you clear into the lovely clear look, To yourself belong and trust alone in yourself, There, where fair, good alone pleases, To solitude!--There create your world.
BOY CHARIOTEER: So esteem I myself as worthy envoy, So love I you as nearest kin. Where you tarry, is fullness; where I am, Feels each himself in splendid gain. Also wavers he oft in contradictory life: Shall he yield to you? shall he yield to me? The yours, indeed, may idle rest, Yet who follows me, ever has something to do. Not in secret perform I my deeds, I but breathe, and already am betrayed. So fare well! You grant me my luck; Yet whisper softly, and straight am I back.
PLUTUS: Now is it time, to unfetter the treasures! The locks I touch with the herald's rod. It opens! look here! in brazen kettles It develops and wells of golden blood, First the ornament of crowns, chains, rings; It swells and threatens, them melting to devour.
ALTERNATING CRY OF THE CROWD: See here, oh there! how richly it springs, Fills the chest to the rim.-- Vessels, golden, melt themselves, Minted rolls tumble.-- Ducats hop as if stamped, Oh how that stirs my breast-- How I see all my desire! There they roll along the ground.-- One offers you, use it straight And stoop and become rich.-- We others, brisk as lightning, We take possession of the coffer.
HERALD: What means this, you fools? shall this to me? It is but a masquerade jest. This evening is naught more desired; Think you, one gives you gold and worth? Are yet for you in this play Even reckoning-pennies too much. You clumsy ones! a pretty note Shall straight be the clumsy truth. What shall truth avail you?--Dull delusion You grab at all corners.-- Disguised Plutus, mask-hero, Strike this folk from the field for me.
PLUTUS: Your staff is well ready thereto, Lend it me for short time.-- I dip it swiftly in broth and glow.-- Now, masks, be on your guard! How it lightens and cracks, in sparks sprays! The staff, already is it aglow. Who pressed too near, Is unmercifully straight singed.-- Now begin I my circuit.
CRY AND THRONG: Oh woe! it is done with us.-- Flee, who can flee!-- Back, back, you rear man!-- He sprays me hot in the face.-- Me presses the glowing staff's weight-- Lost are we all and all.-- Back, back, you mask-sw arm!-- Back, back, senseless heap!-- Oh had I wings, I'd fly up.--
PLUTUS: Already is the circle pressed back, And none, I think, is singed. The crowd yields, It is dispersed.-- Yet of such order pledge I draw an invisible band.
HERALD: You have a glorious work accomplished, How thank I your wise power!
PLUTUS: Still needs it, noble friend, patience: Threatens yet manifold tumult.
STINGINESS: So can one yet, if it pleases, Look on this circle with pleasure; For ever foremost are the women, Where there's aught to gape at, aught to nibble. Not am I yet so wholly rusted! A fair woman is ever fair; And today, because it costs me naught, So will we boldly go a-wooing. Yet because in the overfilled place Not every ear hears all words distinctly, I try clever and hope, it shall succeed me, To express myself pantomimically clear. Hand, foot, gesture reaches not for me, There must I busy myself with a contrivance. Like moist clay will I treat the gold, For this metal lets itself be turned to all.
HERALD: What begins the lean fool! Has such a hunger-man humor? He kneads all gold to dough, It becomes soft under his hands; How he presses it and how he balls it, It remains ever but misshapen. He turns to the women there, They all scream, would away, Behave quite odiously; The knave proves ill-behaved. I fear, that he delights, When he violates decency. To that may I not remain silent, Give my staff, to drive him off.
PLUTUS: He suspects not, what threatens us from without; Let him pursue the fools' tidings! For his jokes no room shall remain; Law is mighty, mightier is need.
TUMULT AND SONG: The wild host, it comes at once From mountain-height and forest-vale, Irresistibly it strides on: They celebrate their great Pan. They know yet what no one knows, And press into the empty circle.
PLUTUS: I know you well and your great Pan! Together have you taken bold step. I know right well what not everyone knows, And open, guilty, this narrow circle. May a good fate attend them! The strangest can happen; They know not, whither they stride, They have not foreseen.
WILD SONG: Decked-out folk you, tinsel-show! They come raw, they come rough, In high leap, in rapid run, They tread sturdy and able.
FAUNS: The faun-band In merry dance, The oak-wreath In curly hair, A fine pointed ear Pierces forth at the lock-head, A blunt little nose, a broad face, That all harms not with women: The faun, when he offers the paw, The fairest denies not the dance lightly.
SATYR: The satyr hops now behind With goat-foot and dry leg, To him shall they be lean and sinewy, And chamois-like on mountain-height He amuses himself, to look about. In freedom-air refreshed then, He mocks child and wife and man, Who deep in valley's damp and smoke Comfortably think, they lived too, While to him pure and undisturbed The world up there alone belongs.
GNOMES: There trips in the little band, It holds not gladly pair and pair; In mossy dress with bright little lamp It moves confusedly quick, Where each for himself creates, Like glow-worms swarming; And bustles busily hither and thither, Employed in cross and queer. To the pious little gods near akin, As rock-surgeons well known; The high mountains we cup, From full veins we draw; Metals we pour in heaps, With greeting bold: Luck up! Luck up! That is from ground well-meant: We are of good men friend. Yet bring we the gold to day, That one may steal and pimp, Not iron fail the proud man, Who devised general murder. And who the three commandments despises, And nothing of the others makes. All that is not our fault; So have, forthwith as we, patience.
GIANTS: The wild men they are named, In the Harz-mountains well known; Naturally naked in all strength, They come all giant-like. The fir-trunk in right hand And round the body a bulky band, The stoutest apron of twig and leaf, Bodyguard, as the pope has not.
NYMPHS IN CHORUS: Also he comes!-- The all of the world Is represented In the great Pan. You cheerfullest, surround him, In juggling-dance float around him: For because he is earnest and good therewith, So wills he, that one be merry. Also under the blue vault He behaved ever watchful; Yet babble him the brooks, And breezes rock him mild in rest. And when he at midday sleeps, Not the leaf on the twig stirs; Of healthy plants balsam-scent Fills the silently still air; The nymph may not be lively, And where she stood, there she sleeps. If unexpected with force Then but his voice resounds, Like lightning's crackle, sea-roar, Then no one knows, where in or out, Scatters the brave host in the field, And in the tumult trembles the hero. So honor to him, to whom honor is due, And hail to him, who brought us here!
DEPUTATION OF THE GNOMES: When the shining rich good Thread-wise through clefts glides, Only to the clever divining-rod Shows its labyrinth, We vault in dark grottos Troglodytic our house, And at pure day's airs You distribute treasures graciously. Now discover we beside A spring wonderful, That conveniently promises to give What scarce was to attain. This you can complete, Take it, lord, into your care: Every treasure in your hands Comes the whole world to good.
PLUTUS: We must in high sense compose ourselves And, what happens, let happen with confidence, You are else full of strongest courage. Now shall straight a most ghastly appear, Stubbornly shall world and posterity deny it: You write it faithfully in your protocol.
HERALD: The dwarfs lead the great Pan To the fire-spring softly near; It boils up from deepest abyss, Then sinks it again down to the ground, And dark stands the open mouth; Wells again up in glow and broth, The great Pan stands in good cheer, Rejoices in the wondrous thing, And pearl-foam sprays right and left. How may he trust such being? He stoops deep in to look.-- Now but his beard falls in!-- Who may the smooth chin be? The hand hides it from our sight.-- Now follows a great mishap: The beard ignites and flies back, Ignites wreath and head and breast, To suffering turns the pleasure.-- To extinguish runs the band hither, Yet none remains free of flames, And how it splashes and how it beats, New flames are aroused; Interwoven in the element, A whole mask-lump burns. But what, hear I, becomes us known From ear to ear, from mouth to mouth! Oh eternally unhappy night, What sorrow have you brought us! Proclaim will the next day, What none willingly hears; Yet hear I all places scream: "The emperor suffers such pain." Oh were another true! The emperor burns and his band. Accursed be they, who seduced him, In resinous twigs ensnared, To rage hither with howling-song To general downfall. Oh youth, youth, wilt thou never The pure measure of joy attain? Oh highness, highness, wilt thou never Reasonably as almighty work? Already goes the wood in flames, They lick pointedly up To the wood-crossed ceiling-band; Threatens us a general fire. Of woe the measure is overfull, I know not, who shall save us. An ash-heap of one night Lies tomorrow rich imperial pomp.
PLUTUS: Terror is enough spread, Help now be initiated!-- Strike, of the holy staff's power, That the ground quakes and sounds! You, spacious wide air, Fill you with cool scent! Draw near, to sweep around, Mist-vapors, pregnant streaks, Cover a flaming throng! Drizzle, whisper, cloudlets curl, Slip waving, softly dampen, Extinguishing everywhere combat, You, the soothing, the moist, Transform to a sheet-lightning Such vain flame's play!-- Threaten spirits, to harm us, Shall the magic activate.
Pleasure-Garden
FAUST: Pardon you, lord, the flame-juggling play?
“Stories of the world, in your language.”