p. 86¶BranderAn ugly song! a song political!A song offensive! Thank God, every mornTo rule the Roman empire, that you were not born!I bless my stars at least that mine is notEither a kaiser's or a chancellor's lot.Yet 'mong ourselves should one still lord it o'er the rest;That we elect a pope I now suggest.Ye know, what quality ensuresA man's success, his rise secures.
¶SiebelNo greetings to a sweetheart! No love-songs shall therebe!FroschLove-greetings and love kisses! Thou shalt not hinderme!(Sings)Undo the bolt! in silly night,Undo the bolt! the lover wakes.Shut to the bolt! when morning breaks.
¶SiebelAy, sing, sing on, praise her with all thy might!My turn to laugh will come some day.Me hath she jilted once, you the same trick she'll play.Some gnome her lover be! where cross-roads meet,[87]With her to play the fool; or old he-goat,From Blocksberg coming in swift gallop, bleatA good night to her, from his hairy throat!A proper lad of genuine flesh and blood,Is for the damsel far too good;The greeting she shall have from me,To smash her window-panes will be!
¶Brander (striding on the table)Silence! Attend! to me give ear!Confess, sirs, I know how to live:Some love-sick folk are sitting here!Hence, 'tis but fit, their hearts to cheer,That I a good-night strain to them should give.Hark! of the newest fashion is my song!Strike boldly in the chorus, clear and strong I
¶(He sings)Once in a cellar lived a rat,He feasted there on butter,Until his paunch became as fatAs that of Doctor Luther.The cook laid poison for the guest,Then was his heart with pangs oppress'd,As if his frame love wasted.
¶BranderHe ran around, he ran abroad,Of every puddle drinking.The house with rage he scratch'd and gnaw'd,In vain,—he fast was sinking;Full many an anguish'd bound he gave,Nothing the hapless brute could save,As if his frame love wasted.[88]ChorusAs if his frame love wasted.
¶BranderBy torture driven, in open day,The kitchen he invaded,Convulsed upon the hearth he lay,With anguish sorely jaded;The poisoner laugh'd, Ha! ha! quoth she,His life is ebbing fast, I see,As if his frame love wasted.
¶SiebelHow the dull boors exulting shout!Poison for the poor rats to strewA fine exploit it is no doubt.BranderThey, as it seems, stand well with you!
¶AltmayerOld bald-pate! with the paunch profound!The rat's mishap hath tamed his nature;For he his counterpart hath foundDepicted in the swollen creature.
Faust and Mephistopheles
¶MephistophelesI now must introduce to youBefore aught else, this jovial crew,To show how lightly life may glide away;With the folk here each day's a holiday.With little wit and much content,[89]Each on his own small round intent,Like sportive kitten with its tail;While no sick-headache they bewail,And while their host will credit give,Joyous and free from care they live.BranderThey're off a journey, that is clear,—From their strange manners; they have scarce beenAn hour.FroschYou're right! Leipzig's the place for me!Tis quite a little Paris; people thereAcquire a certain easy finish'd air.
¶SiebelWhat take you now these travellers to be?FroschLet me alone! O'er a full glass you'll see,As easily I'll worm their secret out,As draw an infant's tooth. I've not a doubtThat my two gentlemen are nobly born,They look dissatisfied and full of scorn.BranderThey are but mountebanks, I'll lay a bet!AltmayerMost like.FroschMark me, I'll screw it from them yet!Mephistopheles (to FAUST)These fellows would not scent the devil out,E'en though he had them by the very throat![90]FaustGood-morrow, gentlemen!SiebelThanks for your fair salute.(Aside, glancing at MEPHISTOPHELES.)How ! goes the fellow on a halting foot?
¶MephistophelesIs it permitted here with you to sit?Then though good wine is not forthcoming here,Good company at least our hearts will cheer.
¶FroschYou're doubtless recently from Rippach? Pray,Did you with Master Hans there chance to sup?MephistophelesTo-day we pass'd him, but we did not stop!When last we met him he had much to sayTouching his cousins, and to each he sentFull many a greeting and kind compliment.(With an inclination towards FROSCH.)
¶FroschHave patience! I will show him up anon![91]MephistophelesWe heard erewhile, unless I'm wrong,Voices well trained in chorus pealing?Certes, most choicely here must songRe-echo from this vaulted ceiling!FroschThat you're an amateur one plainly sees!MephistophelesOh no, though strong the love, I cannot boast much skill.AltmayerGive us a song!MephistophelesAs many as you will.SiebelBut be it a brand new one, if you please!MephistophelesBut recently returned from Spain are we,The pleasant land of wine and minstrelsy.(Sings)A king there was once reigning,Who had a goodly flea—FroschHark! did you rightly catch the words? a flea!An odd sort of a guest he needs must be.Mephistopheles (sings)A king there was once reigning,Who had a goodly flea,Him loved he without feigning,[92]As his own son were he!His tailor then he summon'd,The tailor to him goes:Now measure me the youngsterFor jerkin and for hose I
¶BranderTake proper heed, the tailor strictly charge,The nicest measurement to take,And as he loves his head, to makeThe hose quite smooth and not too large!
¶MephistophelesIn satin and in velvet,Behold the yonker dressed;Bedizen'd o'er with ribbons,A cross upon his breast.Prime minister they made him,He wore a star of state;And all his poor relationsWere courtiers, rich and great.
¶The gentlemen and ladiesAt court were sore distressed;The queen and all her maidensWere bitten by the pest,And yet they dared not scratch them,Or chase the fleas away.If we are bit, we catch them,And crack without delay.
¶MephistophelesI am afraid the landlord to offend;Else freely I would treat each worthy guestFrom our own cellar to the very best.
¶FroschGive a good glass, and straight we'll praise you, one andall.Only let not your samples be too small;For if my judgment you desire,Certes, an ample mouthful I require.Altmayer (aside)I guess they're from the Rhenish land.
¶MephistophelesFetch me a gimlet here![94]BranderSay, what therewith to bore?You cannot have the wine-casks at the door?
¶Mephistopheles (takfs the gimlet)
(To FROSCH)
¶Now only say! what liquor will you take?
¶FroschGood, if I have my choice, the Rhenish I propose;For still the fairest gifts the fatherland bestows.Mephistopheles(boring a hole in the edge of the table opposite towhere FROSCH is sitting)Give me a little wax—and make some stoppers—quick!AltmayerWhy, this is nothing but a juggler's trick!
¶Mephistopheles (to BRANDER)And you?BranderChampagne's the wine for me;Right brisk, and sparkling let it be
¶BranderWhat foreign is one always can't decline,What's good is often scatter'd far apart.The French your genuine German hates with all his heart,Yet has a relish for their wine.
¶Siebel(as MEPHISTOPHELES approaches him)I like not acid wine, I must allow,Give me a glass of genuine sweet!
¶AltmayerCome! look me in the face! no fooling now!You are but making fun of us, I trow,MephistophelesAh ! ah! that would indeed be making freeWith such distinguished guests. Come, no delay;What liquor can I serve you with, I pray?
¶Mephistopheles (with strange gestures)Grapes the vine-stock bears,Horns the buck-goat wears!Wine is sap, the vine is wood,The wooden board yields wine as good.[96]With a deeper glance and trueThe mysteries of nature view!Have faith and here's a miracle!Your stoppers draw and drink your fill!All(as they draw the stoppers and the wine chosen byeach runs into his glass)Oh beauteous spring, which flows so far!MephistophelesSpill not a single drop, of this beware!(They drinf^ repeatedly.)All (sing)Happy as cannibals are we,Or as five hundred swine.MephistophelesThey're in their glory, mark their elevation!FaustLet's hence, nor here our stay prolong.MephistophelesAttend, of brutishness ere longYou'll see a glorious revelation.Siebel(drinhj carelessly; the wine is spilt upon the ground,and turns to flame)Help! fire! help! Hell is burning!Mephistopheles(addressing the flames)Stop,Kind element, be still, I sayOf purgatorial fire as yet 'tis but a drop.
¶Altmayer
¶Methinks 'twere well we pack'd him quietly away.
¶Altmayer(draws a stopper out of the table; fire springs outagainst him)I burn! I burn!Siebel'Tis sorcery, I vow!Strike home! The fellow is fair game, I trow!(They draw their knives and attack, MEPHISTOPHELES.)[98]Mephistopheles (with solemn gestures)Visionary scenes appear!Words delusive cheat the ear!Be ye there, and be ye here!(They stand amazed and gaze at each other.)
¶Vineyards! unless my sight deceives?
¶SiebelAnd dust'ring grapes too, close at hand!BranderAnd underneath the spreading leaves,What stems there be! What grapes I see!(He seizes SIEBEL by the nose. The others reciprocally do the same, and raise their knives.)Mephistopheles (as above)Delusion, from their eyes the bandage take!Note how the devil loves a jest to break!(He disappears with FAUST; the fellows draw backfrom one another.)
¶Brander (to SIEBEL)And look, my hand doth thine enclose![99]AltmayerI felt a shock, it went through every limb!A chair! I'm fainting! All things swim!
¶FroschSay what has happened, what's it all about?SiebelWhere is the fellow? Could I scent him out,His body from his soul I'd soon divide!
¶AltmayerWith my own eyes, upon a cask astride,Forth through the cellar-door I saw him ride—Heavy as lead my feet are growing.(Turning to the table.)I wonder is the wine still flowing!
Witch Es'k It C He N
¶A large caldron hangs over the fire on a low hearth; various figures appear in the vapour rising from it. A FEMALE MONKEY sits beside the caldron to skim it, and watch that it does not boil over. The MALE MONKEY with the young ones is seated near, warming himself. The walls and ceiling are adorned with the strangest articles of witch-furniture.
Faust, Mephistopheles
¶FaustThis senseless, juggling witchcraft I detest!Dost promise that in this foul nestOf madness, I shall be restored?Must I seek counsel from an ancient dame?And can she, by these rites abhorred,Take thirty winters from my frame?Woe's me, if thou naught better canst suggest!Hope has already fled my breast.Has neither nature nor a noble mindA balsam yet devis'd of any kind?
¶MephistophelesMy friend, you now speak sensibly. In truth,Nature a method giveth to renew thy youth:But in another book the lesson's writ;—It forms a curious chapter, I admit.
¶MephistophelesGood! A remedyWithout physician, gold, or sorcery:Away forthwith, and to the fields repair,Begin to delve, to cultivate the ground,Thy senses and thyself confineWithin the very narrowest round,Support thyself upon the simplest fare,Live like a very brute the brutes among,Neither esteem it robberyThe acre thou dost reap, thyself to dung;This is the best method, credit me,Again at eighty to grow hale and young.[101]FaustI am not used to it, nor can myself degradeSo far, as in my hand to take the spade.This narrow life would suit me not at all.
¶MephistophelesA pretty play our leisure to beguile!A thousand bridges I could build meanwhile.Not science only and consummate art,Patience must also bear her part.A quiet spirit worketh whole years long;Time only makes the subtle ferment strong.And all things that belong thereto,Are wondrous and exceeding rare!The devil taught her, it is true;But yet the draught the devil can't prepare.(Perceiving the beasts.)Look yonder, what a dainty pair!Here is the maid! the knave is there!
¶MephistophelesHow long is it her wont to roam?[102]The MonkeysWhile we can warm our paws she'll stay.
¶(To the MONKEYS)
¶The He-Monkey(approaching and fawning on MEPHISTOPHELES)Quick! quick! throw the dice,Make me rich in a trice,Oh give me the prize!Alas, for myself!Had I plenty of pelf,I then should be wise.
¶MephistophelesHow blest the ape would think himself, if heCould only put into the lottery![103]the meantime the young MONKEYS have been playing with alarge globe, which they roll forwards)
¶The He-MonkeyThe world behold;Unceasingly roll'd,It riseth and falleth ever;It ringeth like glasslHow brittle, alas!Tis hollow, and resteth never.How bright the sphere,Still brighter here!Now living am I!Dear son, beware!Nor venture there!Thou too must die!It is of clay;T will crumble away;There fragments lie.
¶The He-Monkey (taking it down)The sieve would show,If thou wert a thief or no?(He runs to the SHE-MONKEY, and ma\es her lookthrough it.)Look through the sieve!Dost know him the thief,And dar'st thou not call him so?
The Moneys
¶Mephistopheles
¶Faust(who all this time has been standing before a looking-glass,now approaching, and now retiring from it)What do I see? what form, whose charms transcendThe loveliness of earth, is mirror'd here!O Love, to waft me to her sphere,To me the swiftest of thy pinions lend!Alas! If I remain not rooted to this place,If to approach more near I'm fondly lur'd,Her image fades, in veiling mist obscur'd!—Model of beauty both in form and face!Is't possible? Hath woman charms so rare?In this recumbent form, supremely fair,The essence must I see of heavenly grace?Can aught so exquisite on earth be found?
¶Mephistopheles
¶The six days' labour of a god, my friend,Who doth himself cry bravo, at the end,By something clever doubtless should be crown'd.For this time gaze your fill, and when you pleaseJust such a prize for you I can provide;How blest is he to whom kind fate decrees,To take her to his home, a lovely brideHere sit I, like a king upon his throne;My sceptre this;—the crown I want alone.
¶The Monkeys(who have hitherto been making all sorts of strange gestures, bringMEPHISTOPHELES a crown, with loud cries)Oh, be so good,With sweat and with bloodThe crown to lime!(They handle the crown awkwardly and break '* ' n t w 0 pieces,with which they skip about.)T was fate's decree!We speak and see!We hear and rhyme.
The Moneys
¶Faust (as above)A flame is kindled in my breast!Let us begone! nor linger here![106]Mephistopheles(in the same position)It now at least must be confessed,That poets sometimes are sincere.
¶(The caldron which the SHE-MONKEY has neglected begins to boil over; a great flame arises, which streamsup the chimney. The WITCH comes down the chimney with horrible cries.)
¶The WitchOugh! ough! ough! ough!Accursed brute! accursed sow!The caldron dost neglect, for shame!Accursed brute to scorch the dame!
¶(Perceiving FAUST and MEPHISTOPHELES)
¶Whom have we here?Who's sneaking here?Whence are ye come?With what desire?The plague of fireYour bones consume!(She dips the skimming-ladle into the caldron and throws
¶flames at FAUST, MEPHISTOPHELES, and the MONKEYS.
¶The MONKEYS whimper.)
¶Mephistopheles(twirling the whisky which he holds in his hand, andstriking among the glasses and pots)Dash! Smash!There lies the glass!There lies the slime!Tis but a jest;I but keep time,Thou hellish pest,To thine own chimeDost know me! Skeleton! Vile scarecrow, thou!Thy lord and master dost thou know?What holds me, that I deal not nowThee and thine apes a stunning blow?No more respect to my red vest dost pay?Does my cock's feather no allegiance claim?Have I my visage masked to-day?Must I be forced myself to name?
¶The WitchMaster, forgive this rude salute!But I perceive no cloven foot.And your two ravens, where are they?
¶MephistophelesThis once I must admit your plea;—For truly I must own that weEach other have not seen for many a day.The culture, too, that shapes the world, at lastHath e'en the devil in its sphere embraced;The northern phantom from the scene hath pass'd,Tail, talons, horns, are nowhere to be traced!As for the foot, with which I can't dispense,'Twould injure me in company, and hence,Like many a youthful cavalier,False calves 1 now have worn for many a year.
¶The WitchBut why? what mischief hath it done?[108]MephistophelesTo fable-books it now doth appertain;But people from the change have nothing won.Rid of the evil one, the evil ones remain.Lord Baron call thou me, so is the matter good;Of other cavaliers the mien I wear.Dost make no question of my gentle blood;See here, this is the scutcheon that I bear!(He makes an unseemly gesture.)
¶The Witch(laughing immoderately)Ha! Ha! Just like yourself! You are, I ween,The same mad wag that you have ever been!
¶Mephistopheles (to FAUST)My friend, learn this to understand, I pray!To deal with witches this is still the way.
¶MephistophelesOf your known juice a goblet we require.But for the very oldest let me ask;Double its strength with years doth grow.
¶The WitchMost willingly! And here I have a flask,From which I've sipp'd myself ere now;What's more, it doth no longer stink;To you a glass I joyfully will give.(Aside.)If unprepar'd, however, this man drink,He hath not, as you know, an hour to live.[109]MephistophelesHe's my good friend, with whom 'twill prosper well;I grudge him not the choicest of thy store.Now draw thy circle, speak thy spell,And straight a bumper for him pour!(The WITCH, with extraordinary gestures, describes acircle, and places strange things within it. The glassesmeanwhile begin to ring, the caldron to sound, andto make music. Lastly, she brings a great book; placesthe MONKEYS in the circle to serve her as a desk, andto hold the torches. She beckpns FAUST to approach?)
Faust (to MEPHISTOPHELES)
¶Tell me, to what doth all this tend?Where will these frantic gestures end ?This loathsome cheat, this senseless stuffI've known and hated long enough.
¶MephistophelesMere mummery, a laugh to raise!Pray don't be so fastidious! SheBut as a leech, her hocus-pocus plays,That well with you her potion may agree.(He compels FAUST to enter the circle.)
¶(The WITCH, with great emphasis, begins to declaimthe book-)This must thou ken:Of one make ten,Pass two, and thenMake square the three,So rich thou'lt be.Drop out the four!From five and six,Thus says the witch,Make seven and eight.[110]So all is straight!And nine is one,And ten is none,This is the witch's one-time-one!
¶Faust
¶The hag doth as in fever rave.
¶Mephistopheles
¶To these will follow many a stave.I know it well, so rings the book throughout;Much time I've lost in puzzling o'er its pages,For downright paradox, no doubt,A mystery remains alike to fools and sages.Ancient the art and modern too, my friend.'Tis still the fashion as it used to be,Error instead of truth abroad to sendBy means of three and one, and one and three.'Tis ever taught and babbled in the schools.Who'd take the trouble to dispute with fools?When words men hear, in sooth, they usually believe,That there must needs therein be something to conceive.
¶The Witch (continues)
¶The lofty powerOf wisdom's dower,From all the world conceal'd!Who thinketh not,To him I wot,Unsought it is reveal'd.
¶Faust
¶What nonsense doth the hag propound ?My brain it doth well-nigh confound.A hundred thousand fools or more,Methinks I hear in chorus roar.[111]MephistophelesIncomparable Sibyl cease, I pray!Hand us thy liquor without more delay.And to the very brim the goblet crown!My friend he is, and need not be afraid;Besides, he is a man of many a grade,Who hath drunk deep already.(The WITCH, with many ceremonies, pours the liquorinto a cup; as FAUST lifts it to his mouth, a lightflame arises.)
¶MephistophelesGulp it down!No hesitation! It will proveA cordial, and your heart inspire!What! with the devil hand and glove,And yet shrink back afraid of fire?(The WITCH dissolves the circle. FAUST steps out.)
¶Mephistopheles (to the WITCH)And if to pleasure thee I aught can do,Pray on Walpurgis mention thy request.
¶Mephistopheles (to FAUST)Come, quick, and let thyself be led by me;Thou must perspire, in order that the juiceThy frame may penetrate through every part.[112]Then noble idleness I thee will teach to prize,And soon with ecstasy thou'lt recogniseHow Cupid stirs and gambols in thy heart.
¶MephistophelesNay! nay!A model which all women shall surpass,In flesh and blood ere long thou shalt survey.(Aside.)As works the draught, thou presently shalt greetA Helen in each woman thou dost meet.
A Street
¶FAUST (MARGARET passing by)
¶MargaretI am no lady, am not fair,Can without escort home repair.(She disengages herself and exit.)
¶FaustBy heaven! This girl is fair indeed!No form like hers can I recall.Virtue she hath, and modest heed,Is piquant too, and sharp withal.Her cheek's soft light, her rosy lips,No length of time will e'er eclipse!Her downward glance in passing by,[113]Deep in my heart is stamp'd for aye;How curt and sharp her answer too,To ecstasy the feeling grew!
¶(MEPHISTOPHELES enters.)
¶MephistophelesWhat! She?She from confession cometh here,From every sin absolved and free;I crept near the confessor's chair.All innocence her virgin soul,For next to nothing went she there;O'er such as she I've no control I
¶MephistophelesYou really talkLike any gay Lothario,Who every floweret from its stalkWould pluck, and deems nor grace, nor truth,Secure against his arts, forsooth!This ne'er the less won't always do.
¶FaustSir Moralizer, prithee, pause;Nor plague me with your tiresome laws![114]To cut the matter short, my friend,She must this very night be mine,—And if to help me you decline,Midnight shall see our compact end.
¶MephistophelesWhat may occur just bear in mind IA fortnight's space, at least, I need,A fit occasion but to find.
¶FaustWith but seven hours I could succeed;Nor should I want the devil's wile,So young a creature to beguile.
¶MephistophelesLike any Frenchman now you speak,But do not fret, I pray; why seekTo hurry to enjoyment straight?The pleasure is not half so great,As when at first around, above,With all the fooleries of love,The puppet you can knead and mouldAs in Italian story oft is told.
¶MephistophelesBut now, without offense or jest!You cannot quickly, I protest,In winning this sweet child succeed.By storm we cannot take the fort,To stratagem we must resort.
¶FaustConduct me to her place of rest!Some token of the angel bring![115]A kerchief from her snowy breast,A garter bring me,—any thing!
¶MephistophelesThat I my anxious zeal may prove,Your pangs to sooth and aid your love,A single moment will we not delay,Will lead you to her room this very day.
¶MephistophelesNo !She to a neighbour's house will go;But in her atmosphere alone,The tedious hours meanwhile you may employ,In blissful dreams of future joy.FaustCan we go now?
¶MephistophelesPresents so soon! 'tis well! success is sure!Full many a goodly place I know,And treasures buried long ago;I must a bit o'erlook them now. (Exit.)
Evening. a Small and Neat Room
¶Margaret(braiding and binding up her hair)I would give something now to know,[116]Who yonder gentleman could be!He had a gallant air, I trow,And doubtless was of high degree:That written on his brow was seen—Nor else would he so bold have been. (Exit.)
¶Faust (gazing round)Welcome sweet twilight, calm and blest,That in this hallow'd precinct reigns!Fond yearning love, inspire my breast,Feeding on hope's sweet dew thy blissful painslWhat stillness here environs me!Content and order brood around.What fulness in this poverty!In this small cell what bliss profound!(He throws himself on the leather arm-chair besidethe bed)Receive me thou, who hast in thine embrace,Welcom'd in joy and grief the ages flown!How oft the children of a by-gone raceHave cluster'd round this patriarchal throne!Haply she, also, whom I hold so dear,For Christmas gift, with grateful joy possess'd,Hath with the full round cheek of childhood, here,Her grandsire's wither'd hand devoutly press'd.Maiden! I feel thy spirit haunt the place,Breathing of order and abounding grace.As with a mother's voice it prompteth thee,[117]The pure white cover o'er the board to spread,To strew the crisping sand beneath thy tread.Dear hand! so godlike in its ministry!The hut becomes a paradise through thee!And here— (He raises the bed-curtain.)How thrills my pulse with strange delight!Here could I linger hours untold;Thou, Nature, didst in vision bright,The embryo angel here unfold.Here lay the child, her bosom warmWith life; while steeped in slumber's dew,To perfect grace, her godlike form,With pure and hallow'd weavings grew!
¶And thou! ah here what seekest thou?How quails mine inmost being now!What wouldst thou here? what makes thy heart so sore?Unhappy Faust! I know thee now no more.
¶Do I a magic atmosphere inhale?Erewhile, my passion would not brook delay!Now in a pure love-dream I melt away.Are we the sport of every passing gale?
¶Should she return and enter now,How wouldst thou rue thy guilty flame!Proud vaunter—thou wouldst hide thy brow,—And at her feet sink down with shame.
¶MephistophelesHere is a casket, with a storeOf jewels, which I got elsewhere[118]Just lay it in the press; make haste!I swear to you, 'twill turn her brain;Therein some trifles I have placed,Wherewith another to obtain.But child is child, and play is play.
¶MephistophelesDo you ask ?Perchance you would retain the treasure?If such your wish, why then, I say,Henceforth absolve me from my task,Nor longer waste your hours of leisure.I trust you're not by avarice led!I rub my hands, I scratch my head,—(He places the casket in the press and closes thelock-)Now quick! Away !That soon the sweet young creature mayThe wish and purpose of your heart obey;Yet stand you thereAs would you to the lecture-room repair,As if before you stood,Arrayed in flesh and blood,Physics and metaphysics weird and grey!—Away! (Exeunt.)
¶Margaret (with a lamp)Here 'tis so close, so sultry now,(She opens the window.)Yet out of doors 'tis not so warm.I feel so strange, I know not how—I wish my mother would come home.Through me there runs a shuddering—I'm but a foolish timid thingThere was a king in Thule,True even to the grave;To whom his dying mistressA golden beaker gave.
¶At every feast he drained it,Naught was to him so dear,And often as he drained it,Gush'd from his eyes the tear.
¶When death came, unrepiningHis cities o'er he told;All to his heir resigning,Except his cup of gold.
¶With many a knightly vassalAt a royal feast sat he,In yon proud hall ancestral,In his castle o'er the sea.
¶Up stood the jovial monarch,And quaff'd his last life's glow,Then hurled the hallow'd gobletInto the flood below.
¶He saw it splashing, drinking,And plunging in the sea;His eyes meanwhile were sinking,And never again drank he.(She opens the press to put away her clothes, and perceives the casket.)How comes this lovely casket here? The pressI locked, of that I'm confident.'Tis very wonderful I What's in it I can't guess;Perhaps 'twas brought by some one in distress,And left in pledge for loan my mother lent.[120]Here by a ribbon hangs a little key!I have a mind to open it and see!Heavens! only look! what have we here!In all my days ne'er saw I such a sight!Jewels! which any noble dame might wear,For some high pageant richly dight!This chain—how would it look on me!These splendid gems, whose may they be?(She puts them on and steps before the glass.)Were but the ear-rings only mine!Thus one has quite another air.What boots it to be young and fair?It doubtless may be very fine;But then, alas, none cares for you,And praise sounds half like pity too.Gold all doth lure,Gold doth secureAll things. Alas, we poor!
Promenade
¶FAUST walking thoughtfully up and down. To him MEPHISTOPHELESMephistophelesBy all rejected love! By hellish fire I curse,Would I knew aught to make my imprecation worse!FaustWhat aileth thee? what chafes thee now so sore?A face like that I never saw before!MephistophelesI'd yield me to the devil instantly,Did it not happen that myself am he!FaustThere must be some disorder in thy wit!To rave thus like a madman, is it fit ?[121]MephistophelesThink! only think! The gems for Gretchen brought,Them hath a priest now made his own!—A glimpse of them the mother caught,And 'gan with secret fear to groan.The woman's scent is keen enough;Doth ever in the prayer-book snuff;Smells every article to ascertainWhether the thing is holy or profane,And scented in the jewels rare,That there was not much blessing there."My child," she cries, "ill-gotten goodEnsnares the soul, consumes the blood;With them we'll deck our Lady's shrine,She'll cheer our souls with bread divine!"At this poor Gretchen 'gan to pout;'Tis a gift-horse, at least, she thought,And sure, he godless cannot be,Who brought them here so cleverly.Straight for a priest the mother sent,Who, when he understood the jest,With what he saw was well content."This shows a pious mind!" Quoth he:"Self-conquest is true victory.The Church hath a good stomach, she, with zest,Whole countries hath swallow'd down,And never yet a surfeit known.The Church alone, be it confessed,Daughters, can ill-got wealth digest."
¶MephistophelesWith that, clasp, chain, and ring, he sweptAs they were mushrooms; and the casket,[122]Without one word of thanks, he kept,As if of nuts it were a basket.Promised reward in heaven, then forth he hied—And greatly they were edified.
¶MephistophelesIn unquiet moodKnows neither what she would or should;The trinkets night and day thinks o'er,On him who brought them, dwells still more.
¶FaustThe darling's sorrow grieves me, bringAnother set without delay!The first, methinks, was no great thing.
¶FaustPlan all things to achieve my end!Engage the attention of her friendlNo milk-and-water devil be,And bring fresh jewels instantly!
¶MephistophelesYour doting love-sick fool, with ease,Merely his lady-love to please,Sun, moon, and stars in sport would puff away. (Exit.)
The Neigh Bour's House
¶Martha (alone)God pardon my dear husband, heDoth not in truth act well by me!Forth in the world abroad to roam,And leave me on the straw at home.And yet his will I ne'er did thwart,God knows, I lov'd him from my heart.(She weeps.)Perchance he's dead!—oh wretched state!—Had I but a certificate!
¶(MARGARET comes)
¶MargaretDame Martha!MarthaGretchen ?MargaretOnly think!My knees beneath me well-nigh sink!Within my press I've found to-day,Another case, of ebony.And things—magnificent they are,More costly than the first, by far.MarthaYou must not name it to your mother!It would to shrift, just like the other.MargaretNay look at them! now only see!Martha (dresses her up)Thou happy creature![124]MargaretWoe is me!Them in the street I cannot wear,Or in the church, or any where.
¶MarthaCome often over here to me,The gems put on quite privately;And then before the mirror walk an hour or so,Thus we shall have our pleasure too.Then suitable occasions we must seize,As at a feast, to show them by degrees:A chain at first, pearl ear-drops then,—your motherWon't see them, or we'll coin some tale or other.
¶MargaretBut, who, I wonder, could the caskets bring?I fear there's something wrong about the thing!(A knock.)Good heavens! can that my mother be?
¶(MEPHISTOPHELES enters)
¶MephistophelesI've ventur'd to intrude to-day.Ladies, excuse the liberty, I pray.(He steps back respectfully before MARGARET.)After dame Martha Schwerdtlein I inquire!
¶MarthaTis I. Pray what have you to say to me?[125]Mephistopheles (aside to her)I know you now,—and therefore will retire;At present you've distinguished company.Pardon the freedom, Madam, with your leave,I will make free to call again at eve.
¶Martha (aloud)Why, child, of all strange notions, heFor some grand lady taketh thee!MargaretI am, in truth, of humble blood—The gentleman is far too good—Nor gems nor trinkets are my own.
¶MephistophelesOh 'tis not the mere ornaments alone;Her glance and mien far more betray.Rejoiced I am that I may stay.
¶MarthaYour business, Sir? I long to know—MephistophelesWould I could happier tidings show!I trust mine errand you'll not let me rue;Your husband's dead, and greeteth you.
¶MarthaIs dead? True heart! Oh misery!My husband dead! Oh, I shall die!MargaretAlas! good Martha! don't despair!MephistophelesNow listen to the sad affair![126]MargaretI for this cause should fear to love.The loss my certain death would prove.
¶MephistophelesAt Padua, in St. Anthony's,In holy ground his body lies;Quiet and cool his place of rest,With pious ceremonials blest.
¶MephistophelesOh yes! one grave and solemn prayer;Let them for him three hundred masses sing!But in my pockets, I have nothing there.
¶MarthaNo trinket! no love-token did he send!What every journeyman safe in his pouch willThere for remembrance fondly stored,And rather hungers, rather begs than spend!
¶MephistophelesMadam, in truth, it grieves me sore,But he his gold not lavishly hath spent.His failings too he deeply did repent,Ay ! and his evil plight bewail'd still more.[127]MargaretAlas! That men should thus be doomed to woe!I for his soul will many a requiem pray.
¶MephistophelesIf not a spouse, a gallant let it be.Among heaven's choicest gifts, I place,So sweet a darling to embrace.
¶MephistophelesUsage or not, it happens so.MarthaGo on, I pray!MephistophelesI stood by his bedside.Something less foul it was than dung;'Twas straw half rotten; yet, he as a Christian died.And sorely hath remorse his conscience wrung."Wretch that I was," quoth he, with parting breath,"So to forsake my business and my wife!Ah ! the remembrance is my death,Could I but have her pardon in this life!"—[128]Martha (weeping)Dear soul! I've long forgiven him, indeed!
¶MephistophelesIf I am skill'd the countenance to read,He doubtless fabled as he parted hence.—" No time had I to gape, or take my ease," he said,"First to get children, and then get them bread;And bread, too, in the very widest sense;Nor could I eat in peace even my proper share."
¶MephistophelesNot so! He thought of you with tender care.Quoth he: "Heaven knows how fervently I prayed,For wife and children when from Malta bound;—The prayer hath heaven with favour crowned;We took a Turkish vessel which conveyedRich store of treasure for the Sultan's court;It's own reward our gallant action brought;The captur'd prize was shared among the crewAnd of the treasure I received my due."
¶MarthaHow ? Where? The treasure hath he buried, pray?[129]MephistophelesWhere the four winds have blown it, who can say?In Naples as he stroll'd, a stranger there,—A comely maid took pity on my friend;And gave such tokens of her love and care,That he retained them to his blessed end.
¶MarthaScoundrel! to rob his children of their bread!And all this misery, this bitter need,Could not his course of recklessness impede!
¶MephistophelesWell, he hath paid the forfeit, and is dead.Now were I in your place, my counsel hear;My weeds I'd wear for one chaste year,And for another lover meanwhile would look out.
¶MarthaAlas, I might search far and near,Not quickly should I find another like my first!There could not be a fonder fool than mine,Only he loved too well abroad to roam;Loved foreign women too, and foreign wine,And loved besides the dice accurs'd.
¶MephistophelesAll had gone swimmingly, no doubt,Had he but given you at home,On his side, just as wide a range.Upon such terms, to you I swear,Myself with you would gladly rings exchange!
¶MarthaThe gentleman is surely pleas'd to jest![130]Mephistopheles (aside)Now to be off in time, were best!She'd make the very devil marry her.
(To MARGARET.)
¶How fares it with your heart?MargaretHow mean you, Sir?Mephistopheles (aside)The sweet young innocent!(aloud)Ladies, farewell!MargaretFarewell!
¶MarthaBut ere you leave us, quickly tell!I from a witness fain had heard,Where, how, and when my husband died and was interr'd.To forms I've always been attached indeed,His death I fain would in the journals read.
¶MephistophelesAy, madam, what two witnesses declareIs held as valid everywhere;A gallant friend I have, not far from here,Who will for you before the judge appear.I'll bring him straight.
¶MephistophelesAnd this young lady, we shall find her too?A noble youth, far travelled, heShows to the sex all courtesy.[131]MargaretI in his presence needs must blush for shame.MephistophelesNot in the presence of a crowned king!MarthaThe garden, then, behind my house, we'll name,There we'll await you both this evening.
A StreetFaust. Mephistopheles
¶FaustHow is it now? How speeds it? Is't in train?MephistophelesBravo! I find you all aflame!Gretchen full soon your own you'll name.This eve, at neighbour Martha's, her you'll meet again;The woman seems expressly madeTo drive the pimp and gipsy's trade.FaustGood!MephistophelesBut from us she something would request.FaustA favour claims return as this world goes.MephistophelesWe have on oath but duly to attest,That her dead husband's limbs, outstretch'd, reposeIn holy ground at Padua.[132]FaustSage indeed!So I suppose we straight must journey there!
¶Faust
¶MephistophelesOh, holy man! methinks I have you there!In all your life say, have you ne'erFalse witness borne, until this hour?Have you of God, the world, and all it doth contain,Of man, and that which worketh in his heart and brain,Not definitions given, in words of weight and power,With front unblushing, and a dauntless breast?Yet, if into the depth of things you go,Touching these matters, it must be confess'd,As much as of Herr Schwerdtlein's death you know!
¶MephistophelesAy, if one did not take a somewhat deeper view!To-morrow, in all honour, thouPoor Gretchen wilt befool, and vowThy soul's deep love, in lover's fashion.
¶FaustAnd from my heart.[133]MephistophelesAll good and fair!Then deathless constancy thou'lt swear;Speak of one all o'ermastering passion,—Will that too issue from the heart?
¶FaustForbear!When passion sways me, and I seek to frameFit utterance for feeling, deep, intense,And for my frenzy finding no fit name,Sweep round the ample world with every sense,Grasp at the loftiest words to speak my flame,And call the glow, wherewith I burn,Quenchless, eternal, yea, eterne—Is that of sophistry a devilish play?
¶MephistophelesYet am I right!FaustMark this, my friend,And spare my lungs; who would the right maintain,And hath a tongue wherewith his point to gain,Will gain it in the end.But come, of gossip I am weary quite;Because I've no resource, thou'rt in the right.
GardenMARGARET on FAUST'S arm. MARTHA with MEPHISTOPHELES
¶walking up and down
¶MargaretI feel it, you but spare my ignorance,The gentleman to shame me stoops thus low.A traveller from complaisance,Still makes the best of things; I know[134]Too well, my humble prattle never canHave power to entertain so wise a man.
¶FaustOne glance, one word from thee doth charm me more,Than the world's wisdom or the sage's lore.(He kjsscs her hand.)
¶MargaretNay! trouble not yourself! A hand so coarse,So rude as mine, how can you kiss!What constant work at home must I not do perforce!My mother too exacting is.(They pass on.)
¶MephistophelesTraffic and duty urge us! With what painAre we compelled to leave full many a spot,Where yet we dare not once remain!
¶MarthaIn youth's wild years, with vigour crown'd,'Tis not amiss thus through the world to sweep;But ah, the evil days come round!And to a lonely grave as bachelor to creep,A pleasant thing has no one found.
¶MarthaTherefore in time, dear sir, reflect, I pray.(They pass on.)[135]MargaretAy, out of sight is out of mind!Politeness easy is to you;Friends everywhere, and not a few,Wiser than I am, you will find.
¶MargaretHow ?FaustSimplicity and holy innocence,—When will ye learn your hallow'd worth to know!Ah, when will meekness and humility,Kind and all-bounteous nature's loftiest dower—
¶MargaretYes, small our household is, I own,Yet must I see to it. No maid we keep,And I must cook, sew, knit, and sweep,Still early on my feet and late;My mother is in all things, great and small,So accurate!Not that for thrift there is such pressing need;Than others we might make more show indeed:My father left behind a small estate,A house and garden near the city-wall.[136]But fairly quiet now my days, I own;As soldier is my brother gone;My little sister's dead; the babe to rearOccasion'd me some care and fond annoy;But I would go through all again with joy,The darling was to me so dear.
¶Faust
¶An angel, sweet, if it resembled thee!
¶MargaretI reared it up, and it grew fond of me.After my father's death it saw the day;We gave my mother up for lost, she layIn such a wretched plight, and then at lengthSo very slowly she regain'd her strength.Weak as she was, 'twas vain for her to tryHerself to suckle the poor babe, so IReared it on milk and water all alone;And thus the child became as 'twere my own;Within my arms it stretched itself and grew,And smiling, nestled in my bosom too.
¶Faust
¶Doubtless the purest happiness was thine.
¶MargaretBut many weary hours, in sooth, were also mine.At night its little cradle stoodClose to my bed; so was 1 wide awakeIf it but stirred;One while I was obliged to give it food,Or to my arms the darling take;From bed full oft must rise, whene'er its cry I heardAnd, dancing it, must pace the chamber to and froStand at the wash-tub early; forthwith goTo market, and then mind the cooking too—[137]To-morrow like to-day, the whole year through.Ah, sir, thus living, it must be confess'dOne's spirits are not always of the best;Yet it a relish gives to food and rest. (They pass on.)
¶MarthaSpeak frankly, sir, none is there you have met?Has your heart ne'er attach'd itself as yet?MephistophelesOne's own fire-side and a good wife are goldAnd pearls of price, so says the proverb old.
¶MarthaAh ! you mistake![138]MephistophelesI'm sorry I'm so blind!But this I know—that you are very kind.(They pass on.)
¶Margaret
¶Did you not see it ? I cast down my eyes.
¶When thou from church didst lately wend thy way?
¶MargaretI was confused. So had it never been;No one of me could any evil say.Alas, thought I, he doubtless in thy mien,Something unmaidenly or bold hath seen?It seemed as if it struck him suddenly,Here's just a girl with whom one may make free!Yet I must own that then I scarcely knewWhat in your favour here began at once to plead;Yet I was angry with myself indeed,That I more angry could not feel with you.
¶MargaretJust wait awhile!(She gathers a star-flower and plucks off the leavesone after another.)[139]FaustA nosegay may that be ?MargaretNo ! It is but a game.FaustHow ?MargaretGo, you'll laugh at me!(She plucks off the leaves and murmurs to herself.)FaustWhat murmurest thou?Margaret (half aloud)He loves me—loves me not.FaustSweet angel, with thy face of heavenly bliss!Margaret (continues)He loves me—not—he loves me—not—(Plucking off the last leaf with fond joy.)He loves me!FaustYes!And this flower-language, darling, let it be,A heavenly oracle! He loveth thee!Know'st thou the meaning of, He loveth thee?(He seizes both her hands.)MargaretI tremble so![140]FaustNay! Do not tremble, love!Let this hand-pressure, let this glance revealFeelings, all power of speech above;To give oneself up wholly and to feelA joy that must eternal prove!Eternal!—Yes, its end would be despair.No end!—It cannot end!(MARGARET presses his hand, extricates herself, andruns away. He stands a moment in thoughtand then follows her.)
¶MarthaI would entreat you longer yet to stay;But 'tis a wicked place, just here about;It is as if the folk had nothing else to do,Nothing to think of too,But gaping watch their neighbours, who goes in and out;And scandal's busy still, do whatsoe'er one may.And our young couple?
A Summer - House
¶(MARGARET runs in, hides behind the door, holds the tipof her finger to her lip, and peeps through the crevice.)
¶MargaretHe comes!FaustAh, little rogue, so thouThink'st to provoke me! I have caught thee now!(He kjsses her.)
(MEPHISTOPHELES k nocK s-)
¶Faust (stamping)Who's there?MephistophelesA friend!FaustA brute!Mephistopheles'Tis time to part.Martha (comes)Ay, it is late, good sir.FaustMayn't I attend you, then ?MargaretOh no—my mother would—adieu, adieu![142]FaustAnd must I really then take leave of you?Farewell 1MarthaGood-bye!MargaretEre long to meet again!
(Exeunt FAUST and MEPHISTOPHELES.)
¶MargaretGood heavens! how all things far and nearMust fill his mind,—a man like this!Abash'd before him I appear,And say to all things only, yes.Poor simple child, I cannot see,What 'tis that he can find in me. (Exit.)
Forest and Cavern
¶Faust (alone)Spirit sublime! Thou gav'st me, gav'st me allFor which I prayed! Not vainly hast thou turn'dTo me thy countenance in flaming fire:Gavest me glorious nature for my realm,And also power to feel her and enjoy;Not merely with a cold and wondering glance,Thou dost permit me in her depths profound,As in the bosom of a friend to gaze.Before me thou dost lead her living tribes,And dost in silent grove, in air and streamTeach me to know my kindred. And when roarsThe howling storm-blast through the groaning wood,Wrenching the giant pine, which in its fallCrashing sweeps down its neighbour trunks and boughs,[143]While hollow thunder from the hill resounds;Then thou dost lead me to some shelter'd cave,Dost there reveal me to myself, and showOf my own bosom the mysterious depths.And when with soothing beam, the moon's pale orbFull in my view climbs up the pathless sky,From crag and dewy grove, the silvery formsOf by-gone ages hover, and assuageThe joy austere of contemplative thought.
¶Oh, that naught perfect is assign'd to man,I feel, alas! With this exalted joy,Which lifts me near and nearer to the gods,Thou gav'st me this companion, unto whomI needs must cling, though cold and insolent,He still degrades me to myself, and turnsThy glorious gifts to nothing, with a breath.He in my bosom with malicious zealFor that fair image fans a raging fire;From craving to enjoyment thus I reel,And in enjoyment languish for desire.
¶(MEPHISTOPHELES enters.)
¶MephistophelesOf this lone life have you not had your fill?How for so long can it have charms for you?Tis well enough to try it if you will;But then away again to something new!
¶MephistophelesWell! Well! I'll leave you to yourself with pleasure,A serious tone you hardly dare employ.To part from one so crazy, harsh, and cross,[144]Were not in truth a grievous loss.The live-long day, for you I toil and fret;Ne'er from his worship's face a hint I get,What pleases him, or what to let alone.
¶MephistophelesPoor Son of Earth, without my aid,How would thy weary days have flown?Thee of thy foolish whims I've cured,Thy vain imaginations banished,And but for me, be well assured,Thou from this sphere must soon have vanished.In rocky hollows and in caverns drear,Why like an owl sit moping here?Wherefore from dripping stones and moss with ooze em-bued,Dost suck, like any toad, thy food?A rare, sweet pastime. Verily!The doctor deaveth still to thee.
¶FaustDost comprehend what bliss without alloyFrom this wild wand'ring in the desert springs?—Couldst thou but guess the new life-power it brings,Thou wouldst be fiend enough to envy me my joy.
¶MephistophelesWhat super-earthly ecstasy! at night,To lie in darkness on the dewy height,Embracing heaven and earth in rapture high,The soul dilating to a deity;With prescient yearnings pierce the core of earth,Feel in your labouring breast the six-days' birth,Enjoy, in proud delight what no one knows,[145]While your love-rapture o'er creation flows,—The earthly lost in beatific vision,And then the lofty intuition—(With a gesture.)
¶I need not tell you how—to close I
¶FaustFie on you IMephistophelesThis displeases you? "For shame!"You are forsooth entitled to exclaim;We to chaste ears it seems must not pronounceWhat, nathless, the chaste heart cannot renounce.Well, to be brief, the joy as fit occasions rise,I grudge you not, of specious lies.But long this mood thou'lt not retain.Already thou'rt again outworn,And should this last, thou wilt be tornBy frenzy or remorse and pain.Enough of this! Thy true love dwells apart,And all to her seems flat and tame;Alone thine image fills her heart,She loves thee with an all-devouring flame.First came thy passion with o'erpowering rush,Like mountain torrent, swollen by the melted snow;Full in her heart didst pour the sudden gush,Now has thy brooklet ceased to flow.Instead of sitting throned midst forests wild,It would become so great a lordTo comfort the enamour'd child,And the young monkey for her Jove reward.To her the hours seem miserably long;She from the window sees the clouds float byAs o'er the lofty city-walls they fly,"If I a birdie were!" so runs her song,Half through the night and all day long.[146]Cheerful sometimes, more oft at heart full sore;Fairly outwept seem now her tears,Anon she tranquil is, or so appears,And love-sick evermore.
¶FaustVile reprobate! go get thee hence;Forbear the lovely girl to name!Nor in my half-distracted sense,Kindle anew the smouldering flame!
¶MephistophelesWhat wouldest thou! She thinks you've taken flight;It seems, she's partly in the right.
¶FaustI'm near her still—and should I distant rove,Her I can ne'er forget, ne'er lose her love;And all things touch'd by those sweet lips of hers,Even the very Host, my envy stirs.
¶MephistophelesGo to! I laugh, the while you rail,The power which fashion'd youth and maid,Well understood the noble trade;[147]So neither shall occasion fail.But hence!—A mighty grief I trow!Unto thy lov'd one's chamber thouAnd not to death shouldst go.
¶FaustWhat is to me heaven's joy within her arms?What though my life her bosom warms!—Do I not ever feel her woe?The outcast am I not, unhoused, unblest,Inhuman monster, without aim or rest,Who, like the greedy surge, from rock to rock,Sweeps down the dread abyss with desperate shock?While she, within her lowly cot, which gracedThe Alpine slope, beside the waters wild,Her homely cares in that small world embraced,Secluded lived, a simple, artless child.Was't not enough, in thy delirious whirlTo blast the steadfast rocks;Her, and her peace as well,Must I, God-hated one, to ruin hurl!Dost claim this holocaust, remorseless Hell!Fiend, help me to cut short the hours of dread!Let what must happen, happen speedily!Her direful doom fall crushing on my head,And into ruin let her plunge with me!
¶MephistophelesWhy how again it seethes and glows!Away, thou fool! Her torment ease!When such a head no issue sees,It pictures straight the final close.Long life to him who boldly dares!A devil's pluck thou'rt wont to show;As for a devil who despairs,Nothing I find so mawkish here below.
Marg Are T's Room
¶Margaret (alone at her spinning wheel)
¶His witching words,Their tones of bliss,His hand's fond pressure,And ah—his kiss![149]My peace is gone,My heart is sore,I find it never,And nevermore.
Mart Ha's GardenMARGARET and FAUST
¶MargaretPromise me, Henry!FaustWhat I can!MargaretHow thy religion fares, I fain would hear.Thou art a good kind-hearted man,Only that way not well-disposed, I fear.FaustForbear, my child! Thou feelest thee I love;My heart, my blood I'd give, my love to prove,And none would of their faith or church bereave.MargaretThat's not enough, we must ourselves believe![150]FaustMust we?
¶Margaret
¶But yet without desire;'Tis long since thou hast been either to shrift or mass.Dost thou believe in God?
¶Faust
¶My darling, who dares say,Yes, I in God believe?Question or priest or sage, and theySeem, in the answer you receive,To mock the questioner.
¶Faust
¶Sweet one! my meaning do not misconceive!Him who dare name?And who proclaim,Him I believe?Who that can feel,His heart can steel,To say: I believe him not?The All-embracer,All-sustainer,Holds and sustains he not[151]Thee, me, himself?Lifts not the Heaven its dome above?Doth not the firm-set earth beneath us lie?And beaming tenderly with looks of love,Climb not the everlasting stars on high?Do we not gaze into each other's eyes?Nature's impenetrable agencies,Are they not thronging on thy heart and brain,Viewless, or visible to mortal ken,Around thee weaving their mysterious chain?Fill thence thy heart, how large soe'er it be;And in the feeling when thou utterly art blest,Then call it, what thou wilt,—Call it Bliss! Heart! Love! God!I have no name for it!'Tis feeling all;Name is but sound and smokeShrouding the glow of heaven.
¶MargaretAll this is doubtless good and fair;Almost the same the parson says,Only in slightly different phrase.
¶FaustBeneath Heaven's sunshine, everywhere,This is the utterance of the human heart;Each in his language doth the like impart;Then why not I in mine?
¶MargaretWhat thus I hearSounds plausible, yet I'm not reconciled;There's something wrong about it; much I fearThat thou art not a Christian.
¶FaustMy sweet child![152]MargaretAlas! it long hath sorely troubled me,To see thee in such odious company.
Faust
¶How so?MargaretThe man who comes with thee, I hate,Yea, in my spirit's inmost depths abhor;As his loath'd visage, in my life before,Naught to my heart e'er gave a pang so great.
¶MargaretHis presence chills my blood.Towards all beside I have a kindly mood;Yet, though I yearn to gaze on thee, I feelAt sight of him strange horror o'er me steal;That he's a villain my conviction's strong.May Heaven forgive me, if I do him wrong!
¶Faust
¶Yet such strange fellows in the world must be!
¶MargaretI would not live with such an one as he.If for a moment he but enter here,He looks around him with a mocking sneer,And malice ill-conceal'd;That he with naught on earth can sympathize is clearUpon his brow 'tis legibly revealed,That to his heart no living soul is dear.So blest I feel, within thine arms,So warm and happy,—free from all alarms;And still my heart doth close when he comes near.[153]FaustForeboding angel! check thy fear!
¶MargaretIt so o'ermasters me, that when,Or wheresoe'er, his step I hear,I almost think, no more I love thee then.Besides, when he is near, I ne'er could pray.This eats into my heart; with theeThe same, my Henry, it must be.
¶MargaretI must away.FaustFor one brief hour then may I never rest,And heart to heart, and soul to soul be pressed?
¶MargaretAh, if I slept alone! To-nightThe bolt I fain would leave undrawn for thee;But then my mother's sleep is light,Were we surprised by her, ah me!Upon the spot I should be dead.
¶FaustDear angel! there's no cause for dread.Here is a little phial,—if she takeMixed in her drink three drops, 'twill steepHer nature in a deep and soothing sleep.
¶MargaretWhat do I not for thy dear sake!To her it will not harmful prove?[154]FaustShould I advise it else, sweet love?
¶MargaretI know not, dearest, when thy face I see,What doth my spirit to thy will constrain;Already I have done so much for thee,That scarcely more to do doth now remain.{Exit.)
¶MEPHISTOPHELES (enters)
¶MephistophelesOf all that pass'd I'm well apprized,I heard the doctor catechised,And trust he'll profit much thereby!Fain would the girls inquire indeedTouching their lover's faith and creed,And whether pious in the good old way;They think, if pliant there, us too he will obey.
¶FaustThou monster, does not see that thisPure soul, possessed by ardent love,Full of the living faith,To her of blissThe only pledge, must holy anguish prove,Holding the man she loves, fore-doomed to endless death!
¶MephistophelesMost sensual, supersensualist ? The whileA damsel leads thee by the nose![155]FaustOf filth and fire abortion vile!
¶MephistophelesIn physiognomy strange skill she shows;She in my presence feels she knows not how;My mask it seems a hidden sense reveals;That I'm a genius she must needs allow,That I'm the very devil perhaps she feels.So then to-night—
At the Well
¶MARGARET and BESSY, with pitchers
¶Bessy'Tis true: Sybilla told me so to-day!That comes of being proud, methinks;She played the fool at last.MargaretHow so ?
¶BessyShe's rightly served, in sooth,How long she hung upon the youth!What promenades, what jaunts there were,To dancing booth and village fair!The first she everywhere must shine,He always treating her to pastry and to wineOf her good looks she was so vain,So shameless too, that to retainHis presents, she did not disdain;Sweet words and kisses came anon—And then the virgin flower was gone.
¶BessyForsooth dost pity her?At night, when at our wheels we sat,Abroad our mothers ne'er would let us stir.Then with her lover she must chat,Or on the bench or in the dusky walk,Thinking the hours too brief for their sweet talk;Her proud head she will have to bow,And in white sheet do penance now!
¶BessyNot he!He won't be such a fool! a gallant ladLike him, can roam o'er land and sea,Besides, he's off.[157]MargaretThat is not fair!
¶BessyIf she should get him, 'twere almost as bad!Her myrtle wreath the boys would tear;And then we girls would plague her too,For we chopp'd straw before her door would strew!(Exit.)Margaret (walking towards home)How stoutly once I could inveigh,If a poor maiden went astray;Not words enough my tongue could find,'Gainst others' sin to speak my mind!Black as it seemed, I blacken'd it still more,And strove to make it blacker than before.And did myself securely bless—Now my own trespass doth appear!Yet ah!—what urg'd me to transgress,God knows, it was so sweet, so dear!
Z Wing Er
¶Enclosure between the City-wall and the Gate.
¶Margaret (putting fresh flowers in the pots)Ah, rich in sorrow, thou,Stoop thy maternal brow,And mark with pitying eye my misery!The sword in thy pierced heart,Thou dost with bitter smart,Gaze upwards on thy Son's death agony.To the dear God on high,[158]Ascends thy piteous sigh,Pleading for his and thy sore misery.Ah , who can knowThe torturing woe,The pangs that rack me to the bone ?How my poor heart, without relief,Trembles and throbs, its yearning griefThou knowest, thou alone IAh , wheresoe'er I go,With woe, with woe, with woe,My anguish'd breast is achinglWhen all alone I creep,I weep, I weep, I weep,Alas! my heart is breaking!The flower-pots at my windowWere wet with tears of mine,The while I pluck'd these blossoms,At dawn to deck thy shrine!When early in my chamberShone bright the rising morn,I sat there on my pallet,My heart with anguish torn.Help! from disgrace and death deliver me!Ah ! rich in sorrow, thou,Stoop thy maternal brow,And mark with pitying eye my misery!
Night. Street Before Marg Are T's Door
¶VALENTINE (a soldier, MARGARET'S brother)
¶When seated 'mong the jovial crowd,Where merry comrades boasting loudEach named with pride his favourite lass,And in her honour drain'd his glass;Upon my elbows I would lean,With easy quiet view the scene,Nor give my tongue the rein until[159]Each swaggering blade had talked his fill.Then smiling I my beard would stroke,The while, with brimming glass, I spoke;"Each to his taste!—but to my mind,Where in the country will you find,A maid, as my dear Gretchen fair,Who with my sister can compare?"Cling! Clang! so rang the jovial sound!Shouts of assent went circling round;Pride of her sex is she!—cried some;Then were the noisy boasters dumb.
¶And now!—I could tear out my hair,Or dash my brains out in despair!—Me every scurvy knave may twit,With stinging jest and taunting sneer!Like skulking debtor I must sit,And sweat each casual word to hear!And though I smash'd them one and all,—Yet them I could not liars call.
¶Who comes this way? who's sneaking here?If I mistake not, two draw near.If he be one, have at him;—well I wotAlive he shall not leave this spot!
Faust. Mephistopheles
¶FaustHow from yon sacristy, athwart the night,Its beams the ever-burning taper throws,While ever waning, fades the glimmering light,As gathering darkness doth around it close!So night-like gloom doth in my bosom reign.
¶MephistophelesI'm like a tom-cat in a thievish vein,That up fire-ladders tall and steep,[160]And round the walls doth slyly creep;Virtuous withal, I feel, with, I confess,A touch of thievish joy and wantonness.Thus through my limbs already burnsThe glorious Walpurgis night!After to-morrow it returns,Then why one wakes, one knows aright!
¶MephistophelesEre long thou wilt proceed with pleasure,To raise the casket with its treasure;I took a peep, therein are stored,Of lion-dollars a rich hoard.
¶MephistophelesSome pleasures gratis to enjoy,Should surely cause you no annoy.While bright with stars the heavens appear,I'll sing a masterpiece of art:A moral song shall charm her ear,More surely to beguile her heart.[161](Sings to the guitar.)Kathrina say,Why lingering stayAt dawn of dayBefore your lover's door?Maiden, beware,Nor enter there,Lest forth you fare,A maiden never more.
¶Maiden take heed!Reck well my rede!Is't done, the deed?Good night, you poor, poor thing!The spoiler's lies,His arts despise,Nor yield your prize,Without the marriage ring!
¶Valentine (steps forward)Whom are you luring here? I'll give it you!Accursed rat<atchers, your strains I'll end!First, to the devil the guitar I'll send!Then to the devil with the singer too!
¶Mephistopheles (to FAUST )Doctor, stand fast! your strength collect!Be prompt, and do as I direct.Out with your whisk, keep close, I pray,I'll parry! do you thrust away![162]ValentineThen parry that!MephistophelesWhy not?ValentineThat tool
¶MephistophelesWith ease!ValentineThe devil fights for youfWhy how is this? my hand's already lamed!Mephistopheles (to FAUST )Thrust home!Valentine (falls)Alas!MephistophelesThere! Now the lubber's tamed!But quick, away! We must at once take wing;A cry of murder strikes upon the ear;With the police I know my course to steer,But with the blood-ban 'tis another thing.Martha (at the window)Without! without!Margaret (at the window)Quick, bring a light!Martha (as above)They rail and scuffle, scream and fight![163]PeopleOne lieth here already dead!Martha (coming out)Where are the murderers? are they fled?Margaret (coming out)Who lieth here?PeopleThy mother's son
¶MargaretAlmighty God! I am undonelValentineI'm dying—'tis a soon-told tale,And sooner done the deed.Why, women, do ye howl and wail?To my last words give heed! (All gather round him.)My Gretchen, see! still young art thou,Art not discreet enough, I trow,Thou dost thy matters ill;Let this in confidence be said:Since thou the path of shame dost tread,Tread it with right good will!
¶ValentineAbstain,Nor dare God's holy name profane!What's done, alas, is done and past!Matters will take their course at last;By stealth thou dost begin with one,[164]Others will follow him anon;And when a dozen thee have known,Thou'lt common be to all the town.When infamy is newly born,In secret she is brought to light,And the mysterious veil of nightO'er head and ears is drawn;The loathsome birth men fain would slay;But soon, full grown, she waxes bold,And though not fairer to behold,With brazen front insults the day:The more abhorrent to the sight,The more she courts the day's pure light.
¶The time already I discern,When thee all honest folk will spurn,And shun thy hated form to meet,As when a corpse infects the street.Thy heart will sink in blank despair,When they shall look thee in the face!A golden chain no more thou'lt wear!Nor near the altar take in church thy place!In fair lace collar simply dightThou'lt dance no more with spirits light!In darksome corners thou wilt bide,Where beggars vile and cripples hide,And e'en though God thy crime forgive,On earth, a thing accursed, thou'lt live!
¶ValentineCould I but reach thy wither'd frame,Thou wretched beldame, void of shame!Full measure I might hope to winOf pardon then for every sin.[165]MargaretBrother! what agonizing pain!
¶ValentineI tell thee, from vain tears abstain!'Twas thy dishonour pierced my heart,Thy fall the fatal death-stab gave.Through the death-sleep I now departTo God, a soldier true and brave. (dies.)
Cathedral
EVIL-SPIRIT behind MARGARET
¶Evil-SpiritHow different, Gretchen, was it once w k h thee,When thou, still full of innocence,Here to the altar earnest,And from the small and well-conn'd bookDidst lisp thy prayer,Half childish sport,Half God in thy young heart!Gretchen!What thoughts are thine?What deed of shameLurks in thy sinful heart?Is thy prayer utter'd for thy mother's soul,Who into long, long torment slept through thee?Whose blood is on thy threshold?—And stirs there not already 'neath thy heartAnother quick'ning pulse, that even nowTortures itself and theeWith its foreboding presence?[166]MargaretWoe! WoelOh could I free me from the thoughtsThat hither, thither, crowd upon my brain,Against my will!
¶Evil-SpiritGrim horror seizes thee!The trumpet sounds!The graves are shaken!And thy heartFrom ashy restFor torturing flamesAnew created,Trembles into life!
¶MargaretWould I were hence!It is as if the organChoked my breath,As if the choirMelted my inmost heart!
¶MargaretI feel oppressed!The pillars of the wallImprison me![167]The vaulted roofWeighs down upon me!—air!
¶Evil-SpiritThe glorified their faces turnAway from thee!Shudder the pure to reachTheir hands to thee!Woe!
Walpurgis - NightThe Hartz Mountains. District of S Chi Erke and ElendFAUST and MEPHISTOPHELES
¶MephistophelesA broomstick dost thou not at least desire?The roughest he-goat fain would I bestride,By this road from our goal we're still far wide.[168]FaustWhile fresh upon my legs, so long I naught require,Except this knotty staff. Beside,What boots it to abridge a pleasant way?Along the labyrinth of these vales to creep,Then scale these rocks, whence, in eternal spray,Adown the cliffs the silvery fountains leap:Such is the joy that seasons paths like these!Spring weaves already in the birchen trees;E'en the late pine-grove feels her quickening powers;Should she not work within these limbs of ours?