From
Faust part II, Translated by G. Madison Priest
Page 11
Chiron.
Strange person! As a man you feel an
ecstasy,
But to us spirits you seem mad to be.
Now, as it haps, good fortune meets you here,
Since for some moments every year
I'm wont to Manto to repair
Who, Aesculapius' child, in silent prayer
Implores her father, for his honour's gain,
To throw some light in the physicians' brain
That from rash slaughter may their hands refrain.
I love her most of all the guild of sybils,
Gentle and kind, nor prone to shifty quibbles.
If but a while you stay, her art secure
By powerful roots will work your perfect cure.
Faust.
I'm sound in mind. A cure is not my aim;
Else, like to others, I'd be base and tame
Chiron.
The noble fountain's cure, neglect it not!
Be quick, dismount! We've reached the spot.
Faust.
Say, whither have you in this gruesome
night
Borne me through pebbly waters in our flight?
Goethe, Who yearns for the impossible I love
