ken,
I have to own, remains unshaken
By wave, storm, earthquake, fiery brand.
Calm, after all, remain both sea and land.
And the damn'd living fluff, of man and beast the brood,
It laughs to scorn my utmost power.
I've buried myriads by the hour,
And still there circulates each hour a new, fresh blood.
It were enough to drive one to distraction!
Earth, water, air, in constant action,
Through moist and dry, through warm and cold,
Going forth in endless germination!
Had I not claimed of fire a reservation,
Not one thing I alone should hold.

_Faust_. Thus, with the ever-working power
Of good dost thou in strife persist,
And in vain malice, to this hour,
Clenchest thy cold and devilish fist!
Go try some other occupation,
Singular son of Chaos, thou!

_Mephistopheles_. We'll give the thing consideration,
When next we meet again! But now
Might I for once, with leave retire?

_Faust_. Why thou shouldst ask I do not see.
Now that I know thee, when desire
Shall prompt thee, freely visit me.
Window and door give free admission.
At least there's left the chimney flue.

_Mephistopheles_. Let me confess there's one small prohibition

Lies on thy threshold, 'gainst my walking through,
The wizard-foot--[15]

_Faust_. Does that delay thee?
The Pentagram disturbs thee? Now,
Come tell me, son of hell, I pray thee,
If that spell-binds thee, then how enteredst thou?
_Thou_ shouldst proceed more circumspectly!

_Mephistopheles_. Mark well! the figure is not drawn correctly;
One of the angles, 'tis the outer one,
Is somewhat open, dost perceive it?

_Faust_. That was a lucky hit, believe it!
And I have caught thee then? Well done!
'Twas wholly chance--I'm quite astounded!

_Mephistopheles_. The _poodle_ took no heed,
as through the door he bounded;
The case looks differently now;
The _devil_ can leave the house no-how.

_Faust_. The window offers free emission.

_Mephistopheles_. Devils and ghosts are bound by this condition:

The way they entered in, they must come out. Allow
In the first clause we're free, yet not so in the second.

_Faust_. In hell itself, then, laws are reckoned?
Now that I like; so then, one may, in fact,
Conclude a binding compact with you gentry?

_Mephistopheles_. Whatever promise on our books finds entry,
We strictly carry into act.
But hereby hangs a grave condition,
Of this we'll talk when next we meet;
But for the present I entreat
Most urgently your kind dismission.

_Faus