NOTE: 
264 my wanting, 1822.

General. 
Who dare confide in right or a just claim? 275
So much as I had done for them! and now—­
With women and the people ’tis the same,
Youth will stand foremost ever,—­age may go
To the dark grave unhonoured.

NOTE: 
275 right editions 1824, 1839; night 1822.

MINISTER: 
Nowadays
People assert their rights:  they go too far; 280
But as for me, the good old times I praise;
Then we were all in all—­’twas something worth
One’s while to be in place and wear a star;
That was indeed the golden age on earth.

PARVENU: 
We too are active, and we did and do 285
What we ought not, perhaps; and yet we now
Will seize, whilst all things are whirled round and round,
A spoke of Fortune’s wheel, and keep our ground.

NOTE: 
285 Parvenu:  (Note) A sort of fundholder 1822, editions 1824, 1839.

AUTHOR: 
Who now can taste a treatise of deep sense
And ponderous volume? ’tis impertinence 290
To write what none will read, therefore will I
To please the young and thoughtless people try.

NOTE: 
290 ponderous 1824; wonderous 1822.

MEPHISTOPHELES [WHO AT ONCE APPEARS TO HAVE GROWN VERY OLD]: 
I
find the people ripe for the last day,
Since I last came up to the wizard mountain;
And as my little cask runs turbid now, 295
So is the world drained to the dregs.

PEDLAR-WITCH: 
Look here,
Gentlemen; do not hurry on so fast;
And lose the chance of a good pennyworth. 
I have a pack full of the choicest wares
Of every sort, and yet in all my bundle 300
Is nothing like what may be found on earth;
Nothing that in a moment will make rich
Men and the world with fine malicious mischief—­
There is no dagger drunk with blood; no bowl
From which consuming poison may be drained 305
By innocent and healthy lips; no jewel,
The price of an abandoned maiden’s shame;
No sword which cuts the bond it cannot loose,
Or stabs the wearer’s enemy in the back;
No—­

MEPHISTOPHELES: 
Gossip, you know little of these times. 310
What has been, has been; what is done, is past,
They shape themselves into the innovations
They breed, and innovation drags us with it. 
The torrent of the crowd sweeps over us: 
You think to impel, and are yourself impelled. 315

FAUST: 
What is that yonder?

MEPHISTOPHELES: 
Mark her well.  It is
Lilith.

FAUST: 
Who?

MEPHISTOPHELES: 
Lilith, the first wife of Adam. 
Beware of her fair hair, for she excels
All women in the magic of her locks;
And when she winds them round a young man’s neck, 320
She will not ever set him free again.