The University sleeps; it has not yet acknowledged the glorious purposes which may still be served by its magical contraption on Brattle Street. The suggestion that Gaethe's Faust be performed annually at the Loeb Drama Center has been advanced before, by no less an alumnus than Lucien Price, but the Loeb has evidently treated it as mere frivolity. Fading recollections of that supremely serious monument of art may have inclined them to believe that the difficulties of production are too great, and the translations too stilted, for performance at their theatre. They should read it again, in Philip Wayne's translation, and see themselves answered: the Loeb was built for Faust, and Faust for the student. Let the Loeb authorities remove their pentagram, and let Goethe enter.
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