A fit occasion but to find.
FAUST
With but seven hours I could succeed;
Nor should I want the devil’s wile,
So young a creature to beguile.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Like any Frenchman now you speak,
But do not fret, I pray; why seek
To 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 mold
As in Italian story oft is told.
FAUST
No such incentives, do I need.
MEPHISTOPHELES
But now, without offence 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.
FAUST
Conduct me to her place of rest!
Some token of the angel bring!
A kerchief from her snowy breast,
A garter bring me — any thing!
MEPHISTOPHELES
That I my anxious zeal may prove,
Your pangs to soothe and aid your love,
A single moment will we not delay,
Will lead you to her room this very day.
FAUST
And shall I see her? — Have her?
MEPHISTOPHELES
No!
She to a neighbor’s house will go;
But in her atmosphere alone
The tedious hours meanwhile you may employ
In blissful dreams of future joy.
FAUST
Can we go now?
MEPHISTOPHELES
’Tis yet too soon.
FAUST
Some present for my love procure! [Exit.]
MEPHISTOPHELES
Presents 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
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]
MEPHISTOPHELES
Come in! tread softly! be discreet!
FAUST (after a pause)
Begone and leave me, I entreat!
MEPHISTOPHELES (looking round)
Not every maiden is so neat.
[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 pains!
What 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 beside the 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 race
Have 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
The pure white cover o’er the board to spread,
To stew 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 warm
With 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.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Quick! quick! below I see her there.
FAUST
Away! I will return no more!
MEPHISTOPHELES
Here is a casket, with a store
Of jewels, which I got elsewhere.
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.
FAUST
I know not — shall I?
MEPHISTOPHELES
Do 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 the lock.]
Now quick! Away!
That soon the sweet young creature may
The wish and purpose of your heart obey;
Yet stand you there
As would you to the lecture-room repair,
As if before you stood,
Arrayed in flesh and blood,
Physics and metaphysics weird and gray! —
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 thing!
[While undressing herself she begins to sing.]
There was a king in Thule,
True even to the grave;
To whom his dying mistress
A 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, unrepining
His cities o’er he told;
All to his heir resigning,
Except his cup of gold.
With many a knightly vassal
At 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 goblet
Into the flood below.
He saw it splashing, drinking,
&nb
sp; 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 press
I locked, of that I’m confident.
’Tis very wonderful! 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.
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 earrings 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 secure
All things. Alas, we poor!
PROMENADE
FAUST walking thoughtfully up and down. To him MEPHISTOPHELES
MEPHISTOPHELES
By all rejected love! By hellish fire I curse,
Would I knew aught to make my imprecation worse!
FAUST
What aileth thee? what chafes thee now so sore?
A face like that I never saw before!
MEPHISTOPHELES
I’d yield me to the devil instantly,
Did it not happen that myself am he!
FAUST
There must be some disorder in thy wit!
To rave thus like a madman, is it fit?
MEPHISTOPHELES
Think! 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 ascertain
Whether 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 good
Ensnares the soul, consumes the blood;
With them we’ll deck our Lady 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.”
FAUST
It is a general custom, too,
Practised alike by king and jew.
MEPHISTOPHELES
With that, clasp, chain, and ring, he swept
As they were mushrooms; and the casket,
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.
FAUST
And Gretchen!
MEPHISTOPHELES
In unquiet mood
Knows neither what she would or should;
The trinkets night and day thinks o’er;
On him who brought them, dwells still more.
FAUST
The darling’s sorrow grieves me, bring
Another set without delay!
The first, methinks, was no great thing.
MEPHISTOPHELES
All’s to my gentleman child’s play!
FAUST
Plan all things to achieve my end!
Engage the attention of her friend!
No milk-and-water devil be,
And bring fresh jewels instantly!
MEPHISTOPHELES
Ay, sir! Most gladly I’ll obey.
[FAUST exit.]
MEPHISTOPHELES
Your doting love-sick fool, with ease,
Merely his lady-love to please,
Sun, moon, and stars in sport would puff away.
[Exit.]
THE NEIGHBOR’S HOUSE
MARTHA (alone)
God pardon my dear husband, he
Doth 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.)
MARGARET
Dame Martha!
MARTHA
Gretchen?
MARGARET
Only think!
My knees beneath me well-nigh sink!
Within my press I’ve found today
Another case, of ebony.
And things — magnificent they are,
More costly than the first, by far.
MARTHA
You must not name it to your mother!
It would to shrift, just like the other.
MARGARET
Nay look at them! now only see!
MARTHA (dresses her up)
Thou happy creature!
MARGARET
Woe is me!
Them in the street I cannot wear,
Or in the church, or anywhere.
MARTHA
Come 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 mother
Won’t see them, or we’ll coin some tale or other.
MARGARET
But, 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?
MARTHA (peering through the blind)
’Tis a strange gentleman, I see.
Come in!
[MEPHISTOPHELES enters.]
MEPHISTOPHELES
I’ve ventur’d to intrude today.
Ladies, excuse the liberty, I pray.
[He steps back respectfully before MARGARET.]
After dame Martha Schwerdtlein I inquire!
MARTHA
’Tis I. Pray what have you to say to me?
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, he
For some grand lady taketh thee!
MARGARET
I am, in truth, of humble blood —
The gentleman is far too good —
Nor gems nor trinkets are my own.
MEP
HISTOPHELES
Oh ’tis not the mere ornaments alone;
Her glance and mien far more betray.
Rejoiced I am that I may stay.
MARTHA
Your business, Sir? I long to know —
MEPHISTOPHELES
Would I could happier tidings show!
I trust mine errand you’ll not let me rue;
Your husband’s dead, and greeteth you.
MARTHA
Is dead? True heart! Oh misery!
My husband dead! Oh, I shall die!
MARGARET
Alas! good Martha! don’t despair!
MEPHISTOPHELES
Now listen to the sad affair!
MARGARET
I for this cause should fear to love.
The loss my certain death would prove.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Joy still must sorrow, sorrow joy attend.
MARTHA
Proceed, and tell the story of his end!
MEPHISTOPHELES
At Padua, in St. Anthony’s,
In holy ground his body lies;
Quiet and cool his place of rest,
With pious ceremonials blest.
MARTHA
And had you naught besides to bring?
MEPHISTOPHELES
Oh yes! one grave and solemn prayer;
Let them for him three hundred masses sing!
But in my pockets, I have nothing there.
MARTHA
No trinket! no love-token did he send!
What every journeyman safe in his pouch will hoard
There for remembrance fondly stored,
And rather hungers, rather begs than spend!
MEPHISTOPHELES
Madam, 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.
MARGARET
Alas! That men should thus be doomed to woe!
I for his soul will many a requiem pray.
MEPHISTOPHELES
A husband you deserve this very day;
A child so worthy to be loved.
MARGARET
Ah no,
That time hath not yet come for me.
MEPHISTOPHELES
If not a spouse, a gallant let it be.
Among heaven’s choicest gifts, I place,
So sweet a darling to embrace.
MARGARET
Our land doth no such usage know.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Usage or not, it happens so.
MARTHA
Go on, I pray!
MEPHISTOPHELES
I 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!” —
MARTHA (weeping)
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