FAUST (to MEPHISTOPHELES)

Now, what shall come of this? the creatures antic,
The crazy stuff, the gestures frantic,—­
All the repulsive cheats I view,—­
Are known to me, and hated, too.

MEPHISTOPHELES

O, nonsense!  That’s a thing for laughter;
Don’t be so terribly severe! 
She juggles you as doctor now, that, after,
The beverage may work the proper cheer.

(He persuades FAUST to step into the circle.)

THE WITCH

(begins to declaim, with much emphasis, from the book)

     See, thus it’s done! 
     Make ten of one,
     And two let be,
     Make even three,
     And rich thou ’It be. 
     Cast o’er the four! 
     From five and six
     (The witch’s tricks)
     Make seven and eight,
     ’Tis finished straight! 
     And nine is one,
     And ten is none. 
     This is the witch’s once-one’s-one!

FAUST

She talks like one who raves in fever.

MEPHISTOPHELES

Thou’lt hear much more before we leave her. 
’Tis all the same:  the book I can repeat,
Such time I’ve squandered o’er the history: 
A contradiction thus complete
Is always for the wise, no less than fools, a mystery. 
The art is old and new, for verily
All ages have been taught the matter,—­
By Three and One, and One and Three,
Error instead of Truth to scatter. 
They prate and teach, and no one interferes;
All from the fellowship of fools are shrinking. 
Man usually believes, if only words he hears,
That also with them goes material for thinking!

THE WITCH (continues)

     The lofty skill
     Of Science, still
     From all men deeply hidden! 
     Who takes no thought,
     To him ’tis brought,
     ’Tis given unsought, unbidden!

FAUST

What nonsense she declaims before us! 
My head is nigh to split, I fear: 
It seems to me as if I hear
A hundred thousand fools in chorus.

MEPHISTOPHELES

O Sibyl excellent, enough of adjuration! 
But hither bring us thy potation,
And quickly fill the beaker to the brim! 
This drink will bring my friend no injuries: 
He is a man of manifold degrees,
And many draughts are known to him.

(The WITCH, with many ceremonies, pours the drink into a cup; as FAUST sets it to his lips, a light flame arises.)

Down with it quickly!  Drain it off! 
’Twill warm thy heart with new desire: 
Art with the Devil hand and glove,
And wilt thou be afraid of fire?