many another art transcends,
Then may you, lucky man, on all those trifles reckon
For which another years of groping spends:
Know how to press the little pulse that dances,
And fearlessly, with sly and fiery glances,
Clasp the dear creatures round the waist
To see how tightly they are laced.

_Scholar_. This promises! One loves the How and Where to see!

_Mephistopheles_. Gray, worthy friend, is all your theory
And green the golden tree of life.

_Scholar_. I seem,
I swear to you, like one who walks in dream.
Might I another time, without encroaching,
Hear you the deepest things of wisdom broaching?

_Mephistopheles_. So far as I have power, you may.

_Scholar_. I cannot tear myself away,
Till I to you my album have presented.
Grant me one line and I'm contented!

_Mephistopheles_. With pleasure.
[_Writes and returns it_.]

_Scholar [reads]._ Eritis sicut Deus, scientes bonum et malum.
[_Shuts it reverently, and bows himself out_.]

_Mephistopheles_.
Let but the brave old saw and my aunt, the serpent, guide thee,
And, with thy likeness to God, shall woe one day betide thee!

_Faust [enters_]. Which way now shall we go?

_Mephistopheles_. Which way it pleases thee.
The little world and then the great we see.
O with what gain, as well as pleasure,
Wilt thou the rollicking cursus measure!

_Faust_. I fear the easy life and free
With my long beard will scarce agree.
'Tis vain for me to think of succeeding,
I never could learn what is called good-breeding.
In the presence of others I feel so small;
I never can be at my ease at all.

_Mephistopheles_. Dear friend, vain trouble to yourself you're giving;
Whence once you trust yourself, you know the art of living.

_Faust_. But how are we to start, I pray?
Where are thy servants, coach and horses?

_Mephistopheles_. We spread the mantle, and away
It bears us on our airy courses.
But, on this bold excursion, thou
Must take no great portmanteau now.
A little oxygen, which I will soon make ready,
From earth uplifts us, quick and steady.
And if we're light, we'll soon surmount the sphere;
I give thee hearty joy in this thy new career.

AUERBACH'S CELLAR IN LEIPSIC.[20]

_Carousal of Jolly Companions_.

_Frosch_.[21] Will nobody drink? Stop those grimaces!
I'll teach you how to be cutting your faces!
Laugh out! You're like wet straw to-day,
And blaze, at other times, like dry hay.

_Brander_. 'Tis all your fault; no