The Rudolf Steiner Archive

13. Goethe's Insights into the Mysteries of Human Existence

following a eurythmic performance of the scenes “Midnight” and “The Burial”

[ 1 ] Once again, we have allowed a passage from Goethe’s *Faust* to pass before our souls. In my last lecture here, I attempted to develop some of the insights that can be gained from a perspective based on Spiritual Science, when I spoke about the nature of the lemurs and the fat and thin devils. On such occasions, we always try not merely to seek insights for understanding this work of literature, but—starting from the work itself—to gain something of general significance in the field of Spiritual Science and to glimpse those true realities that Goethe sought to attain with his *Faust*.

[ 2 ] Today I would like to offer some reflections specifically on what has just passed before our eyes. It may seem significant to us, after all, that this scene, which we have just seen come to an end, is not the final scene of Goethe’s *Faust*, but that—as we know—it is followed by that other scene which we presented here some time ago. You will recall: mountain gorges, forest, cliffs, wilderness, holy anchorites, a chorus, an echo, the forest swaying toward us, and so on—where we are guided through the devout meditation of Pater ecstaticus, Pater profundus, Pater Seraphicus, through the choir of the blessed boys, where we once again encounter the angels who, in the scene we saw today, carry Faust’s immortal soul to the higher regions, where we also encounter the Trinity of Penitents, Doctor Marianus, and Mater Gloriosa as Gretchen’s guide, right up to the final chorus—the true mystical chorus:

All that is fleeting
Is just a parable ...

[ 3 ] All of this follows the scene we saw today, which depicts the battle between the spirits of light and the spirits of darkness for Faust’s soul.

[ 4 ] When attempting to explain *Faust*, one often proceeds from scene to scene, indeed often from sentence to sentence; one does not ask the questions that could be asked—and which are actually the ones that shed light on this great, powerful work of poetry. — Today we have seen how Faust’s burial took place, how Mephistopheles-Ahriman lost his game, and how the soul was carried up into the spiritual realms. From a certain point of view, one might ask: Couldn’t the *Faust* epic actually end there? Don’t we now, in essence, know everything there is to know about it? Do we not know that Mephistopheles has lost his wager, that all the efforts he was able to make throughout Faust’s lifetime—which he was able to accompany—have been in vain, that Faust’s soul has been received into the realm of light, and that thus the words spoken by Lessing with regard to the *Faust* epic to the spirits of darkness—“You shall not prevail”—have been fulfilled? Could we not believe that this actually brings everything to a close, that the “Faust” epic has reached its end? — The question arises in our souls: Why, then, does the conclusion we know still follow what we have seen today? — And in raising this question and then engaging with its answer, we touch upon profound mysteries of human life in its connection with the whole of the world. The fact that Goethe shaped this conclusion to *Faust* the way he did shows precisely how deeply he had insight into the mysteries of human existence, even in the depths of his own life at a time when Spiritual Science did not yet exist. There is much, very much, contained in the scene that was performed today, and even more lies in the fact that this scene is followed by other concluding scenes. Much of it proves that Goethe knew the deepest mysteries of existence, but that he was also compelled to present these mysteries in a way that is accessible only to those who are willing to delve more deeply into spiritual life and its essence. Quite deliberately, Goethe expressed much in veiled terms; as he himself said, he enshrined it as a mystery within the *Faust* poem. Much of what is, so to speak, expressed only in veiled terms—which provokes hatred and opposition among dull-witted people who, out of fear and complacency, do not wish to approach the knowledge of the spiritual world—much of this he hinted at in a veiled manner. However, as a result, Goethe’s *Faust* has remained more or less misunderstood for eighty-four years and will only gradually reveal its depths to humanity as we move toward the future. Indeed, one can already say that Spiritual Science insight will be the first to awaken those artistic sensibilities capable of conveying an understanding of the *Faust* epic.

[ 5 ] Let us first look back at the deeply moving and striking scene in which Faust encounters the four gray women: Want, Guilt, Distress, and Worry. Let us be clear that Faust has this encounter with the four gray women at a moment when he has already gone through many, many spiritual life experiences—or rather, life experiences that have evoked spiritual understanding in him. Goethe envisions his Faust, at the time depicted in this final scene, as being one hundred years old; he has reached the age of one hundred—as Goethe himself stated. Today, Faust has first appeared before us with all these experiences spiritualized within his soul, as he stands on the balcony of his home—a home he has created for himself at a place of work from which he sought to contribute to the future of humanity. We look upon his soul in such a way that its feelings, as it were, encapsulate all the satisfaction he feels—all that he was able to accomplish for humanity by reclaiming a free land for free people from the sea.

The stars hold their gaze and radiance,
The fire dies down and blazes faintly;
A light, chilly breeze fans it,
Bringing smoke and mist my way.
Quickly commanded, too quickly done!

[ 6 ] Now, seemingly before his eyes—but in reality in an inner vision—unfolds the scene that constitutes the apparition of the four gray women:

What is that shadowy figure floating toward us?

[ 7 ] We must create a mental image of the situation in which, through the deepening of experience that Faust’s soul has undergone, this soul has become capable of drawing from its own deep inner wellspring the vision of the four figures—Deprivation, Distress, Worry, and Guilt. This “Midnight Scene” is an inner experience in the truest sense of the word—an inner experience evoked in Faust by the soul’s gradual detachment from the body. For this is the remarkable mystery that Goethe quite clearly intended: from the moment the three gray women utter the words:

The clouds are drifting, the stars are fading!
Over there, over there! From afar, from afar,
Here he comes, my brother, here he comes—Death,

[ 8 ] — that from this moment on, death is already truly spreading over Faust’s life. And we can only truly understand this scene if, from that point on, we imagine Faust as a dying man, as one whose soul is slowly detaching itself from his body. And it would be wrong to think that what follows is meant to be merely outwardly, sensually, and realistically portrayed. That is not the case. As we see Faust in the room of his palace, into which anxiety has crept, we find—as he sits there—that his soul has, in a certain sense, already begun to detach itself from the body, and that the experiences of physical life merge with the experiences the soul has once it has begun to detach itself from the body. And only then do we understand the strangely deeply interwoven lines when we take in this interplay of the spiritual world—into which Faust has already transported himself through his loosening soul—and this interplay of the spiritual world with the physical-sensual world in which Faust still resides, precisely because the soul is loosening but has not yet detached itself. Deprivation, guilt, and distress were powerless; they were merely the harbingers of death. But the gnawing anxiety remains where the vision transforms to such an extent that it is already the vision of the soul that has loosened itself from the body:

I saw four coming, but only three leaving;
I could not understand the meaning of the words.
It sounded as if it said—Distress,
followed by a somber rhyme—Death.
It sounded hollow, ghostly and muffled.

[ 9 ] If one understands what Goethe felt when he used the word “ghostly”—he, who felt the meaning of words much more concretely than today’s dull materialists—then one uses a word like this:

It sounded hollow, ghostly and muffled

[ 10 ] not easy, but important and essential, and seeks to capture the feeling Goethe had when he put these words into Faust’s mouth. Among other things, Goethe offers a beautiful passage in which he expresses the following. He says: “Sometimes life seems to me as if events from the distant past were entering my present consciousness, and then everything from the distant past appears like a ghost that has transported itself into the present.” Goethe had a very concrete concept of what he called “ghostly.” There, before him, stood—as a vision—millennia-old periods of his own life, which he often believed he saw entering his present life like ghosts. These are not assertions I make on a whim; this can be rigorously demonstrated from what Goethe himself expressed when he spoke intimately about the experiences of his inner life.

[ 11 ] Now the perceptions and thoughts that Faust has—halfway into the spiritual world, yet still living partly on the physical plane—converge. It is as if you were to create a mental image of the interplay of these two worlds—that is how it is for Faust now. He is now experiencing something that can truly only be experienced in this interplay of the two worlds, something that would not have unfolded had he distanced himself further from his physical body. He still feels the events from beyond the threshold bound to the events of physical life:

I haven't managed to fight my way out into the open yet.

[ 12 ] And now for the strange statement that will seem to some like a mere contradiction, but which becomes perfectly understandable when one conceives of the experience as taking place between physical life and spiritual life. Faust sought to reach the spiritual world throughout his entire life. Spiritual Science in the true sense did not yet exist at that time. He attempted to gain insight into the spiritual world through magic inherited from the Middle Ages—that very magic which brought him into contact with Ahriman-Mephistopheles, as we have discussed on several occasions, including in the last lecture. This magic, through which he entered the spiritual world, is inseparable from Mephistopheles. If you look back at what took place around Faust, you will see everywhere that Mephistopheles orchestrated the magical acts. We cannot hope that Faust, now that he is already halfway into the spiritual world, would want to cling to this magic:

If only I could rid my path of magic,
And completely forget all the spells.

[ 13 ] Those spells he has drawn from ancient books—spells that, simply because they have been preserved from ancient times, have become Luciferic and Ahrimanic. In this way, now that he is truly entering the spiritual world, he finds that what he has achieved was not, after all, what he had sought. And now he looks back. He is already beginning to look back, as one does when the soul has become more at ease. Now he begins to look back on the life that has just passed. The moment stands vividly before him—the moment before he reached for the medieval books, before he uttered the fateful words:

So I surrendered to the magic.

[ 14 ] Thanks to benevolent forces that have graciously guided him in the spirit of the “Prologue in Heaven,” he has been spared the fruits of that magic which he would have had to reap had this gracious influence of special forces not accompanied him throughout his life. Now he can already glimpse into the spiritual world; now he sees things differently. That plays a role. With his current knowledge, he would take a different path:

If I stood before you, Nature, a man all alone,
Then it would be worth the trouble to be human.

[ 15 ] He could not have said that in this way before, as long as he had not separated his soul from his body. He had to travel the entire path of error. Now he looks back and sees that it was, after all, the path through the darkness of Mephistopheles. He first looks back on that time in his life when Mephistopheles had not yet crossed his path:

That used to be me,

[ 16 ] — a person alone

I sought it in the gloom,
Cursing myself and the world with blasphemous words.
Now the air is so full of such a specter,
That no one knows how to avoid it.

[ 17 ] The full weight of these events now weighs heavily on his soul.

Even when a day smiles upon us with clear reason,
The night entangles us in a web of dreams;
We return joyfully from the young fields,

[ 18 ] — that is how he spent his life, half in the physical world, half already—albeit in a physical body—transferred by Mephistopheles into the spiritual world, gazing into the spiritual world, but having to return again and again to the physical world, because Mephistopheles cannot find, nor can he facilitate, the access, since he cannot quite grasp the connection.

A bird caws; what is it cawing? Misfortune.

[ 19 ] This path leads only to superstition.

Ensnared by superstition from morning till night —
It is fitting, it reveals itself, it warns —
And so, intimidated, we stand alone.

[ 20 ] Superstition has always intertwined with the path—albeit the powerful path—that Faust was able to follow through his own strong nature. And now he has that vision which could remain with him as his soul grows increasingly unmoored: the vision of sorrow. And try to sense how Goethe, even in his language, lets his words resonate with the highest here. One might say that the entire history of the world lies upon our soul when we feel the weight of these words. Worry creeps in. “Is anyone there?” Faust asks.

Is anyone here?

[ 21 ] The answer is:

The question calls for a “Yes”!

[ 22 ] Not a simple answer: Yes! The question demands a “Yes!” I said: The entire history of the world already forces its way into our souls through the power of words. For how could one think of that magnificent scene—where, before the court, Christ Jesus is asked, “Are you the Son of God?”—without thinking of these very words? He does not simply answer, “Yes,” but rather, “You have said so!”

[ 23 ] Faust’s current experience is not expressed in abstract terms:

I'll be there.

[ 24 ] But it is within him. It is, in essence, a soliloquy. And it is a profound soliloquy. Humanity will only gradually come to experience—through inner experiences—the full gravity of this soliloquy. Along with what is to be instilled in humanity as Spiritual Science, insights will also come to humanity that will be linked to deep, deep feelings and sensations about life—feelings and sensations of which dull, blunt materialism, of course, cannot even dream, nor can that easily acquired worldview even dream of them—the one that believes everything has already been gained through propositions that characterize the physical or the spiritual-real. We have such propositions. We know that they have been won through profound inner experiences. We cherish them in our souls; we carry them with us through life. But they are not what they truly can and must be for the human soul unless they are accompanied by all manner of moods—those moods that often make our inner life seem as though it were hovering over an abyss. And once we have attained spiritual insights, the concern that overwhelms us regarding the relationship of these insights to the total reality of life can never leave us. Precisely when a person enters the spiritual world, they must feel that it is shallow to speak, in a false asceticism, of this earthly life as merely a lowly one that one would most like to cast off. It is precisely through spiritual insights that a person senses the full, profound meaning of this earthly life for eternity: that this earthly life must be lived through so that what exists in it can be incorporated into the impulses we carry through death into the sphere of eternity. But how could it be otherwise than that, at the end of a life of trials—precisely at such a moment when the soul is loosened from its earthly bonds—a person becomes aware, with grave and heavy concern, of what might become of the life he has just lived as he now must journey with his soul through the spiritual world, and what the fruits of that life might be. Faust has struggled through much, much indeed. But he is great in that now, having just entered the spiritual world—half within it and half still feeling his way back to physical earthly existence—in the immensely significant comparison that arises between the physical and the spiritual in such a life-and-death situation, he knows:

I have merely raced through the world;
I seized every desire by the hair,
What was not enough, I let go,
What slipped away from me, I let it go.
I have only desired and only accomplished
And desired again, and thus with force
I have stormed through my life; at first great and mighty,
But now I proceed wisely, I proceed thoughtfully.

[ 25 ] Feel this harmony of what is now arising in his soul: how he has traversed the small and the great world, as it is said in *Faust*, and with a comprehensive view that is just now opening up—as in that meaningful retrospective on life—only now, since he feels a radiance from the spiritual world illuminating his vision, can he wisely and thoughtfully survey all that he has gone through in the rush of life’s currents. And now: What does he see? What is he beginning to perceive? —- He begins to see what he has experienced in the earthly realm. Think back to everything we have discussed regarding the retrospective that overwhelms the soul at the beginning of the life following death—the one that is now slowly overwhelming Faust. Think of this retrospective. He sees his earthly life. He sees it in such a way that he must say to himself:

I am quite familiar with the Earth's orbit.

[ 26 ] He now beholds what he had experienced in the earthly realm. He is already halfway into the spiritual world. From this state of mind, you sense the words:

Over there, the view has eluded us.

[ 27 ] One can say that when looking back, especially on life on earth. This is not a philosophical confession of materialism; it is an immediate experience after death has already half seized the soul. Petty-minded commentators on Faust have interpreted this passage as if Faust, in his old age, were returning once more to a materialistic creed. But now, in this situation, Faust would truly be a fool if he were to disregard the retrospective view of his life and, already squinting, look toward that spiritual world which is often painted here by those fools who construct this spiritual world in such a way that they simply invent its like above the clouds, as is done in many creeds. He wants to stand firm on the outcome of his life. And now come words of profound significance, before which every semblance of materialism must vanish—must vanish completely. The vague mystics—those dreadful mystics who always speak of merely merging into the cosmos, of seeking to mystically grasp eternity in the chaotic, all-encompassing darkness they call “all-light”—wish to wander off into eternity. The one who wishes to grasp spiritual life concretely seizes it where it is to be grasped in its concreteness; he does not become a fool, blurring into indeterminate distances that actually contain nothing but emptiness and empty space, and into which the soul dreams itself away; he is not tempted to wander into such eternities, but rather to grasp knowledge concretely. That which he recognizes can be grasped:

He walks along the earth's day like this.

[ 28 ] Think how wonderful this sentence becomes when one considers that it marks the beginning of a retrospective look at life on earth: the vision travels through the days of earthly life. Now he stands at the point where he can find the proper relationship to those haunting spirits to which Mephistopheles has led him here.

When ghosts haunt,

[ 29 ] - now in retrospect

Let him go his own way;
As he moves forward, he finds both torment and joy,
He! Unsatisfied at every moment.

[ 30 ] We must create a mental image of this retrospective view—not yet fully complete, but now breaking in upon us—a view still permeated by the concern over which fruits from the earthly life lived can be carried over into the spiritual world. And always in this way: back and forth. We find Faust in a state of spiritual experience—but also, because he is still bound to the body, in a state of physical experience. This concern still holds him to his physical body. He is to enter the spiritual world consciously, made conscious precisely by this weighing concern. That is why he grows into the spiritual world in such a way that, even as he already carries the spiritual world within his soul, he still believes he can command the physical world. People who hold the banal contemporary view that human beings have essentially always been as they are now do not know that many Greeks died as Faust dies—or rather, as Goethe has Faust die. We can demonstrate from Greek literature that this kind of death was, for the Greeks, something truly desirable—like living on in some way from physical existence while the soul has already been set free. In Sophocles you can find words that suggest how the Greeks saw something special in such a death—not a sudden death, but a slow passing away, in which consciousness is already half-fading from the physical world, but what enters physical consciousness as twilight is gradually illuminated, allowing a full glimpse into the spiritual world. And Goethe did indeed attempt to incorporate much of Greek culture into the second part of his *Faust*. We can well imagine that he wanted something that could be characterized as if he had wanted to portray Faust as a dying Greek. Thus, what he imbues the words with in terms of feelings already flows over from the spiritual world, even as he still issues commands here. And we can follow this further, observe how Goethe fully and consciously portrays what I have spoken to you about.

[ 31 ] They saw Faust step to the spot where his grave was already being dug. One may say once again: those Goethe commentators who accuse Goethe of bad taste for having the grave dug while Faust is still alive are not people of good taste themselves! — That would, of course, be sheer bad taste. We see Faust dying. Then it is not a lack of taste; then it is a marvelous flight of imagination when, alongside the dying Faust, we now also see the grave being dug by those semi-spiritual beings—the lemurs—whose nature I spoke of recently. But how does Faust speak? Well, I will first set aside the words he speaks as he steps out of the palace and feels his way along the doorpost. I want to draw your attention to the words Faust utters as he, so to speak, gives the order to dig the trench that is to drain the pestilential swamp. At first, one might think that everything is meant in a physical sense. But Goethe was well aware that Faust speaks partly from a spiritual consciousness, and that is how he intended these words to be understood. And what is revealed by this physical-spiritual, spiritual-physical consciousness? First of all, a wonderful sense of well-being in Faust. Consider what Faust says:

A swamp creeps along the mountainside,
Tainting all that has already been achieved;
To drain that putrid pool as well,
That would be the ultimate achievement.
I open up spaces for many millions,
Not safe, perhaps, but free to live actively.

[ 32 ] That's nice, but now come some different words:

Green and fertile is the plain; people and herds
At once at home on this new land,
Settled right at the foot of the hill,
Which the bold and industrious people had cleared.
Here within lies a paradisiacal land,

[ 33 ] — These words are written with full awareness, consciously emerging from the physical-spiritual and the spiritual-physical. The paradisiacal land is the interplay of the spiritual into physical consciousness, and then back into the physical again:

Outside, the floodwaters are rushing right up to the edge.

[ 34 ] Certainly, it also refers to the external situation, but Goethe chose these words quite deliberately. Now:

The congregation is eager to fill the gap.

[ 35 ] And now some strange words:

Yes! I am wholly devoted to this ideal,
This is the ultimate truth:
Only he deserves freedom as much as life itself,
Who must conquer it anew each day.
And so, surrounded by danger,
Here childhood, manhood, and old age spend their fruitful years.
Such a teeming crowd I would like to see,
Standing on free soil with a free people.
To the moment I might say:
Stay a while, you are so beautiful!
The trace of my days on earth
Cannot fade away in eons.

[ 36 ] One must hear this phrase repeated over and over again as a beautiful phrase spoken by Faust, because he feels: You have done something for the common good; you have made a difference. — And now he is overcome by the immense feeling of how this will continue to have an effect through the eons, how he has, as it were, established his fame through his deeds, and he surrenders himself to this sense of well-being. One often hears it quoted. I have even heard it quoted by people who wanted to say something beautiful to others and quoted these words. You could also say: “The trace of my days on earth—that is, of your days on earth—will not perish in the eons.” — And yet, no matter how much this is regarded as a beautiful phrase, let us be clear: it is a purely Luciferic phrase, a sense of well-being in fame. Once again, we sense how Faust’s soul is completely seduced by Lucifer—not only looking back on his deeds, but also, in a wild, spiritually egotistical way, feeling his glory through the eons. This egotism grows to gigantic proportions and is further sealed:

In anticipation of such great joy
I now savor this most sublime moment.

[ 37 ] Truly, the devil is no fool. After such a Luciferian outburst, one might well think that the Devil had taken hold of him, for it is once again a thoroughly Luciferian, blissful feeling—a supreme longing for eternity. And we must not think of the foolish Devil, but rather of the clever Mephistopheles-Ahriman, when he now says, quite aptly:

No desire can satisfy him, no happiness is enough for him,
So he continues to pursue ever-changing forms;
That last, wretched, empty moment—
The poor man longs to hold on to it.

[ 38 ] The soul has completely relaxed, but has separated from the body in a Luciferian manner. This ties in quite well with the no less inwardly voluptuous words that Faust utters as he steps out of the palace and feels his way along the doorpost:

How the clinking of the spades delights me!
It is the crowd that delights me.

[ 39 ] One should not think that it is no temptation, in this final moment, to recall once more that the crowd adores you! The Luciferian temptation is there once more, clearly present. And Mephistopheles is no fool to believe that now is the moment that can follow on from that conversation in which Faust sold his soul to him. They were in conversation with one another: we recall the first part, where Faust spoke those words not yet from his half-attained spiritual consciousness, but from his physical consciousness:

First shatter this world to pieces,
Then the other may arise.
From this earth spring my joys,
And this sun shines upon my sufferings;
If only I could part myself from them,
Then let whatever wills and can, come to pass.
I want to hear no more of it,
Whether people will continue to hate and love in the future,
And whether, even in those spheres,
There is an “up” or a “down.”

[ 40 ] Looking back on this time, one might think Faust could already say:

I just ran all over the world.

[ 41 ] Then Mephistopheles says:

With that in mind, you can take the plunge.
Connect with me; these days,
You’ll delight in seeing my art,
I’ll give you what no one has ever seen.

[ 42 ] Faust:

What do you, poor devil, have to offer?
Has the spirit of a human being, in its lofty aspirations,
Ever been captured by your kind?
Yet you have food that does not satisfy; you have
Red gold that, without rest,
Like mercury, slips through your fingers,
A game in which one never wins,
A girl who, at my breast,
Already connects with the neighbor with her eyes,
The beautiful divine delight of honor,
Which, like a meteor, vanishes?
Show me the fruit that rots before it is picked,
And trees that turn green anew each day!
Such a task does not daunt me,

[ 43 ] Mephistopheles replies,

I can offer such treasures.
But, my good friend, the time is also approaching
When we may enjoy a good meal in peace.

[ 44 ] And now the weighty words spoken by Faust:

If I ever lie down on a lazy bed in peace,
Then let it be the end of me right then!
If you can ever lie to me with flattery,
So that I may please myself,
If you can deceive me with pleasure;
Let that be my last day!
I’ll take that bet!

[ 45 ] Well, how could that not be fulfilled? The fullest enjoyment—even in the anticipation of eternal glory—is here now.

[ 46 ] Mephistopheles:

Great!

[ 47 ] Faust:

And one thing after another!
I’ll say to the moment:
Stay a while! You’re so beautiful!

[ 48 ] — Doesn't he say so?! —

Then you may bind me in chains,
Then I will gladly perish!
Then let the death bell toll,
Then you will be free of your duty,
Let the clock stand still, let the hands fall,
Let time be over for me!

[ 49 ] Mephistopheles:

Think about it carefully—we won’t forget it.

[ 50 ] And he doesn't forget it. Mephistopheles says this now, after Faust has savored the supreme moment:

No pleasure can satisfy him, no happiness is enough for him,
So he continues to pursue ever-changing forms;
That last, wretched, empty moment,
The poor man longs to hold on to it.
Who resisted me so fiercely,
Time reigns supreme; the old man lies here in the sand.
The clock stands still

[ 51 ] A complete fulfillment of the situation; for Faust says:

The clock may stop, the hands may fall.

[ 52 ] Mephisto:

The clock has stopped —

[ 53 ] The Lemur Choir:

Stand still! It is silent as midnight.
The hand falls.

[ 54 ] What was predetermined when the wager was made has come to pass. Mephistopheles can assume his work is done:

He falls; it is finished.

[ 55 ] From Mephistopheles’ mouth, the words of the cross: “It is finished!” But immediately the chorus of lemurs, giving voice to the earth:

It's over.

[ 56 ] This strikes a terrible chord in Mephistopheles’ soul. He said, “It is finished.” The chorus of lemurs replies, “It is over.” That is the enormous difference. “Over”—he does not want that word:

Gone! What a silly word.
Why gone?
Gone and pure nothingness, utter indifference!

[ 57 ] It is in these words that we must look to understand what is going on. First of all, Mephistopheles is in conversation with his lemurs; he believes it is accomplished, but it is only over. And now he turns his attention to himself. The contradiction—accomplished, over—he wants to understand it.

Gone and pure nothingness, utter indifference!
What good is this eternal creation to us!
To sweep away what has been created into nothingness!
“It’s over!” What is there to be read in that?
It is as good as if it had never been,
And yet it goes round in circles, as if it were.
I would prefer the eternal void to that.

[ 58 ] As I have already said, these words contain what we are looking for. The fact that Goethe chose such words, that he constructed the scene around the enjoyment of the supreme moment as it is depicted, and that he has Mephistopheles converse with the lemurs in this way, testifies to the fact that Goethe was able to express something profoundly deep—a depth that even today can really only be touched upon—for therein lies the reason why the final scene must follow. If the matter were as many *Faust* commentators have suggested—that Mephisto simply misunderstood, that he was taken in—then the final scene truly would no longer need to follow. Then the matter would be simple enough; it would be such that Faust did not imagine that there could be a pleasure as sublime as that expressed in the words:

The traces of my days on Earth
Cannot be lost in the ages...

[ 59 ] Mephisto hadn’t thought of that either; neither of them had thought of it. Neither of them had imagined that Faust would ever say to the moment: “Stay a while, you are so beautiful.” But because perceiving the moment in this way is something higher, the foolish devil is cheated out of his wager: that is roughly how all the commentators on *Faust* explain it. — Well, then the devil would simply have lost the soul, the angels would have seized it—everything would be in order. We didn’t need the final scene. And Goethe certainly wouldn’t have written it, since he was a man of poetic economy. But one cannot understand *Faust* if one takes it so superficially. One can only understand it if one fully realizes: Yes, here Goethe wants to have a Luciferian temptation—even as death is already fully setting in—approach Faust once more, a genuine Luciferian temptation. — And Lucifer is there once again at the very moment when Faust speaks:

In anticipation of such great happiness
I now savor this most sublime moment.

[ 60 ] Now comes the actual burial and Mephisto’s preparation to capture the soul with the spirits of Hell. The angels arrive and triumph over the devils. The soul appears to be redeemed and is carried away, but the poem is not yet over. What is actually happening there? Yes, Goethe could not say offhand what was going on. But there are many words there through which he has expressed himself clearly enough for those who wish to understand. It is just that the mental image one so easily conjures up of that choir of angels advancing to claim the soul is not quite accurate. It is not entirely incorrect that the angels who are approaching are all too haughty and now imagine themselves to be the very embodiment of light, while the devils—the fat and the gaunt devils—they simply despise, and now imagine themselves to be quite pious, so very good, so very pious. Goethe had already hinted that he did not want to accept this mental image so readily by having Mephisto—whom he certainly does not portray as a completely foolish devil—utter the words scattered throughout one passage:

That priestly look doesn't suit you at all,

[ 61 ] and, in particular, the significant word:

They are devils, too, but in disguise.

[ 62 ] They, too, are of Lucifer’s lineage. That’s not just for fun! As far as one can even say—to what extent it’s meant seriously—we’ll take a closer look at the matter tomorrow.