And purgèd sense,
The while new songs around thee play,
To launch thee on more hopeful way!
Mephistopheles.
These are the tiny
Spirits that wait on me;
Hark how to pleasure
And action they counsel thee!
Into the world wide
Would they allure thee,
In solitude dull
No more to immure thee,
No more to sit moping
In mouldy mood,
With a film on thy sense,
And a frost in thy blood!
Cease then with thine own peevish whim to play,
That like a vulture makes thy life its prey.
Society, however low,
Still gives thee cause to feel and know
Thyself a man, amid thy fellow-men.
Yet my intent is not to pen
Thee up with the common herd! and though
I cannot boast, or rank, or birth
Of mighty men, the lords of earth,
Yet do I offer, at thy side,
Thy steps through mazy life to guide;
And, wilt thou join in this adventure,
I bind myself by strong indenture,
Here, on the spot, with thee to go.
Call me companion, comrade brave,
Or, if it better please thee so,
I am thy servant, am thy slave!
Faust.
And in return, say, what the fee
Thy faithful service claims from me?
Mephistopheles.
Of that you may consider when you list.
Faust.
No, no! the devil is an Egotist,
And seldom gratis sells his labor,
For love of God, to serve his neighbor.
Speak boldly out, no private clause conceal;
With such as you ’tis dangerous to deal.
Mephistopheles.
I bind myself to be thy servant here,
And wait with sleepless eyes upon thy pleasure,
If, when we meet again in yonder sphere,
Thou wilt repay my service in like measure.
Faust.
