Pray you, laugh freely.

SATAN

Nay, my mirth is spent.

My heart is moved even toward an enemy, When on his head defeat its torrent pours.

I offer you my sympathy.

FAUST

My thanks Are in appropriate measure tendered you.

SATAN

Distrust me not, for lo, the game is done-- There are no battles more, no testings more To set between us. From the heart of life Have forces risen--aye, from the people's breast!-- To seal the measure of defeat; and now Why shall we quarrel further?

FAUST

Why, indeed?

SATAN

I hear that you are working on a book Recounting your adventures with the Devil.

I hope 'tis finished: it had better be!

You will not write large libraries, my friend, In what of life remains to you.

FAUST

It is Completed wholly.

SATAN

May I look at it?

FAUST

You may not.

SATAN

Ah, 'tis a surprise for me!

FAUST

Possibly.

SATAN

Well, you work late into dusk.

Dusk falls about you; soon the night will come, And silence.... Has an oracle in your heart Whispered the tidings of that night? Or have The pages of the prophets told to you What waits within that darkness?

FAUST

There waits sleep.

But I have lived, and do not fear life's last Inevitable word.

SATAN

My lips are sealed, Though I would fain prepare you for that first And awful moment when, beyond death's gates, You see and know--for now you do not know-- What there awaits you. You have seen the grave; You know the dissolution and decay That folds the body as it mouldering lies After the racking of those final hours Where soul and body part. But have you guessed That--as the body rots without the soul-- So the soul crumbles in a vile decay You cannot picture, when the body dies?

Then falls the spirit limb from reeking limb.

An agony beyond all mortal thought Shakes every atom of the spiritual frame-- The throes of dissolution. Death, indeed, All men can bear; but this last spiritual death, This torture of the disembodied soul To force dissolving--ah, prepare yourself!

It shall appall you!

FAUST

If it comes, it comes.

SATAN

We have been foes; but now I speak as friend.

This shall not come to you! 'Tis in my power To save you from this uttermost horror's grasp.

For I have gift of perfect dreamless sleep; And those to whom I give shall after death Slumber unconscious while the awful change Attacks them; and oblivion shall be theirs Unbroken stretching from the final hour.

FAUST

That were a boon not easily despised.

SATAN

It shall be yours! My crushed and broken foe Shall never at my hand lack final rest Where nightmares cannot come. As honest foes We shall be quit. And for this priceless gift I ask but that you give me, as remembrance, That book which you have wrought concerning me.

FAUST

Why still so eager?

SATAN

Eager? I am not.

FAUST

Satan, my soul still sees, though death has drawn Its curtains round my body. You have sought With long endeavor to enslave my will To nothingness; now would you doom to dark My sublimated soul, my written word, My force immortal....

(_He takes up the pen_)

This, Satan, is your answer--

(_He writes on the last sheet of the ma.n.u.script_)