Such a true spectacle now let us give;

Let us grasp the whole life of mankind that they live.
That man lives so, for instance,-how, nobody knows,
But when you represent it the interest soon grows.
A many-hued picture, with clearness to brighten it,
Much error, some sparkles of truth to enlighten it,
audience this is the best potion to brew,

For

your

That refreshes the world, and edifies too.

Round your play then our youth's fairest flowers assembling,

Will listen entranced to its longed-for revealing, And each tender soul in its ecstacy trembling,

Will find what will nourish its mournful feeling. First this one is moved, then another affected, Each sees what he bears in his heart unsuspected: To laugh or to weep alike ready are they,

They honour what soars, by what glitters are caught;

On the old finished worldling* is toil thrown away, 'Tis youth undeveloped is grateful for aught.

POET.

Oh, then give me the times of my youth back again,
When, as yet undeveloped, my passionate soul
In a still gushing fountain of strain upon strain
Its fulness would upwards unceasingly roll;
*Fertig, accomplished, completed.

When the world in a mist from my eye was concealed,
And each blossom its promise of glory revealed,
And the thousand bright flowers I plucked in delight,
That filled every valley with love and with light:
I had nought yet enough,—I had thirst for the real,
Yet a trembling delight in the glowing ideal.
Oh, each headlong impulse unfettered restore,
The ecstacy rendered still deeper by pain,

Hate's strength, love's omnipotence, give me once

more,

Give me, oh, give me my youth back again.

HUMOURIST.

As for youth, my good friend, its want you may find,
When in the hot battle your enemy presses,
Or when on your neck, with her white arms entwined,
Hangs the fairest of maids with her loving caresses;
Or when from the goal, yet far distant, a glance

Of the prize of the difficult course meets your sight; Or after the maddening whirl of the dance

One carouses away through the turbulent night; But with sweetest expression, with spirit and soul The familiar strings of the harp to awake,

And gracefully on to your self-chosen goal

Your way on through attractive meanderings to make:

Such, old friend, is the duty you have to fulfil,
And not less for that will we honour you still.
Age makes us not children, as somebody teaches us,
True children it finds us whenever it reaches us.

MANAGER.

Come, enough and to spare of this word interchanging;

I must beg that at last you some deeds will produce :

For whilst you these compliments have been exchanging,

You might have been busy with something of use. What signifies talk of the right mood* so long?

She appears not to him who inactive will stand;
Only give yourselves out for the children of song
Of the ranks then of poetry take the command.
Ye know very well what a drink we would sip,
Right strong be the potion ye hold to our lip :
Now to brew such a drink; go unflinchingly on;
What
you
do not to-day is to-morrow undone.
Never squander a day; resolution should clasp
Opportunity boldly, before it is gone,

By the forelock, nor let it escape from its grasp.
And so from necessity still it works on,

* Stimmung, tune, mood, humour.

You know, in our German theatricals ever,

Each tries every plan that comes into his mind; So spare not to-day in your earnest endeavour. Machinery, scenery, aught you can find,

The lights, both the greater and lesser, of heaven
Are at your disposal, the stars at your call;
Fire, water, and rocks, in profusion are given,

And the birds and the beasts and the fishes and all. Come, in this narrow booth be your powers applied, The circle of all the creation display.

Now on, swiftly but still circumspectively glide,
From Heaven to Hell, taking Earth in your way.

PROLOGUE IN HEAVEN.

THE LORD.

THE HEAVENLY HOST-afterwards MEPHISTOPHELES. The three Archangels advance.

RAPHAEL.

IN choral emulation blending*

With brother spheres, the sun hath chimed As erst, his course fore-ordered ending,

In stately step, to thunder timed.

* From the earliest ages there has been a remarkable tendency in the mind of man, to connect rhythmical harmony with the motions of the heavenly bodies. In the sacred writings we find music distinctly alluded to as coeval with creation.

"4. Where wast thou when I laid the foundations of the earth? declare, if thou hast understanding.

"5. Who hath laid the measures thereof, if thou knowest ? or who hath stretched the line upon it?