General. Who would rely upon the faith of nations! They leave you thankless, when their work is done; The people, like the women, pour libations Only in honor of the rising sun. Minister. The liberties these modern changes bring, I must confess I cannot praise; The good old times, when we were everything, These were the truly golden days. Parvenu. We, too, pushed forward with the pushing crew, And for the need could stretch a point or two; But now all's changed; and with the whirling bucket, We lose the fruit, just when our hand would pluck it. Author. No solid work now suits the reading nation, And year by year the world more shallow grows; And, for the glib-tongued rising generation, They hang their wisdom on their up-turned nose! Mephistopheles. [_Who all at once appears very old_] The people here seem ripe for Doom's day; I Suspect the world is now on its last legs; And, since mine own good cask is running dry, Men and their ways, I guess, are near the dregs! Peddler-Witch. Good sirs, I pray you pass not by, Cast on my wares a friendly eye! One cannot see such rich display Of curious trinkets every day. Yet is there nothing in my store (Which far all other stores excels), That hath not done some mischief sore To earth, and all on earth that dwells; No dagger by which blood hath not been shed, No cup from which, through sound and healthy life, Corroding fiery juice hath not been spread, No gaud but hath seduced some lovely wife, No sword that hath not made a truce miscarry, Or stabbed behind the back its adversary. Mephistopheles. Good lady cousin! you come rather late. Your wares, believe me, are quite out of date; Deal in the new and newest; that Our palate smacks; all else is flat. Faust. This is a fair that beats the Leipzig hollow! My head is so confused, I scarce can follow. Mephistopheles. To the top the stream is rushing, And we are pushed, when we think we are pushing. Faust. Who, then, is that? Mephistopheles. Look at her well. 'Tis Lilith.[*n13] Faust. Who? Mephistopheles. Adam's first wife. Beware, Art thou a wise man, of her glossy hair! 'Tis fair to look on, but its look is fell. Those locks with which she outshines all the train, When she hath bound a young man with that chain, She'll hold him fast; he'll scarce come back again. Faust. There sit an old and young one on the sward; They seem to have been dancing somewhat hard. Mephistopheles. O! once begun, they'll go on like the devil. Come, come! they rise again--let's join the revel. [/Faust/ _and_ /Mephistopheles/ _join the dance; the former with the Young Witch as his partner; the latter with the Old one._