Faust I — Scenes 7 to 12
MARGARET
I’m neither lady, neither fair, And home I can go without your care.
[_She releases herself, and exit_.
FAUST
By Heaven, the girl is wondrous fair!
Of all I’ve seen, beyond compare;
So sweetly virtuous and pure, And yet a little pert, be sure!
The lip so red, the cheek’s clear dawn, [Illustration:] I’ll not forget while the world rolls on!
How she cast down her timid eyes, Deep in my heart imprinted lies: How short and sharp of speech was she, Why, ’twas a real ecstasy!
(MEPHISTOPHELES _enters_) FAUST
Hear, of that girl I’d have possession!
MEPHISTOPHELES
Which, then?
FAUST
The one who just went by.
MEPHISTOPHELES
She, there?
She’s coming from confession, Of every sin absolved; for I, Behind her chair, was listening nigh.
So innocent is she, indeed, That to confess she had no need.
I have no power o’er souls so green.
FAUST
And yet, she’s older than fourteen.
MEPHISTOPHELES
How now!
You’re talking like Jack Rake, Who every flower for himself would take, And fancies there are no favors more, Nor honors, save for him in store;
Yet always doesn’t the thing succeed.
FAUST
Most Worthy Pedagogue, take heed!
Let not a word of moral law be spoken!
I claim, I tell thee, all my right;
And if that image of delight Rest not within mine arms to-night, At midnight is our compact broken.
MEPHISTOPHELES
But think, the chances of the case!
I need, at least, a fortnight’s space, To find an opportune occasion.
FAUST
Had I but seven hours for all, I should not on the Devil call, But win her by my own persuasion.
MEPHISTOPHELES
You almost like a Frenchman prate;
Yet, pray, don’t take it as annoyance!
Why, all at once, exhaust the joyance?
Your bliss is by no means so great As if you’d use, to get control, All sorts of tender rigmarole, And knead and shape her to your thought, As in Italian tales ’tis taught.
FAUST
Without that, I have appetite.
MEPHISTOPHELES
But now, leave jesting out of sight!
I tell you, once for all, that speed With this fair girl will not succeed;
By storm she cannot captured be;
We must make use of strategy.
FAUST
Get me something the angel keeps!
Lead me thither where she sleeps!
Get me a kerchief from her breast,— A garter that her knee has pressed!
MEPHISTOPHELES
That you may see how much I’d fain Further and satisfy your pain, We will no longer lose a minute;
I’ll find her room to-day, and take you in it.
FAUST
And shall I see—possess her?
MEPHISTOPHELES
No!
Unto a neighbor she must go, And meanwhile thou, alone, mayst glow With every hope of future pleasure, Breathing her atmosphere in fullest measure.
FAUST
Can we go thither?
MEPHISTOPHELES
’Tis too early yet.
FAUST
A gift for her I bid thee get!
[_Exit_.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Presents at once?
That’s good: he’s certain to get at her!
Full many a pleasant place I know, And treasures, buried long ago: I must, perforce, look up the matter.
_[Exit_.
[Illustration] VIII EVENING A SMALL, NEATLY KEPT CHAMBER
MARGARET
(_plaiting and binding up the braids of her hair_) I’d something give, could I but say Who was that gentleman, to-day.
Surely a gallant man was he, And of a noble family;
And much could I in his face behold,— And he wouldn’t, else, have been so bold!
[_Exit_ MEPHISTOPHELES FAUST
MEPHISTOPHELES
Come in, but gently: follow me!
FAUST (_after a moment’s silence_) Leave me alone, I beg of thee!
MEPHISTOPHELES (_prying about_) Not every girl keeps things so neat.
FAUST (_looking around_) O welcome, twilight soft and sweet, That breathes throughout this hallowed shrine!
Sweet pain of love, bind thou with fetters fleet The heart that on the dew of hope must pine!
How all around a sense impresses Of quiet, order, and content!
This poverty what bounty blesses!
What bliss within this narrow den is pent!
(_He throws himself into a leathern arm-chair near the bed_.
) Receive me, thou, that in thine open arms Departed joy and pain wert wont to gather!
How oft the children, with their ruddy charms, Hung here, around this throne, where sat the father!
Perchance my love, amid the childish band, Grateful for gifts the Holy Christmas gave her, Here meekly kissed the grandsire’s withered hand.
I feel, O maid!
thy very soul Of order and content around me whisper,— Which leads thee with its motherly control, The cloth upon thy board bids smoothly thee unroll, The sand beneath thy feet makes whiter, crisper.
O dearest hand, to thee ’tis given To change this hut into a lower heaven!
And here!
(_He lifts one of the bed-curtains_.
) What sweetest thrill is in my blood!
Here could I spend whole hours, delaying: Here Nature shaped, as if in sportive playing, The angel blossom from the bud.
Here lay the child, with Life’s warm essence The tender bosom filled and fair, And here was wrought, through holier, purer presence, The form diviner beings wear!
And I?
What drew me here with power?
How deeply am I moved, this hour!
What seek I?
Why so full my heart, and sore?
Miserable Faust!
I know thee now no more.
Is there a magic vapor here?
I came, with lust of instant pleasure, And lie dissolved in dreams of love’s sweet leisure!
Are we the sport of every changeful atmosphere?
And if, this moment, came she in to me, How would I for the fault atonement render!
How small the giant lout would be, Prone at her feet, relaxed and tender!
MEPHISTOPHELES
Be quick!
I see her there, returning.
FAUST
Go!
go!
I never will retreat.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Here is a casket, not unmeet, Which elsewhere I have just been earning.
Here, set it in the press, with haste!
I swear, ’twill turn her head, to spy it: Some baubles I therein had placed, That you might win another by it.
True, child is child, and play is play.
FAUST
I know not, should I do it?
MEPHISTOPHELES
Ask you, pray?
Yourself, perhaps, would keep the bubble?
Then I suggest, ’twere fair and just To spare the lovely day your lust, And spare to me the further trouble.
You are not miserly, I trust?
I rub my hands, in expectation tender— (_He places the casket in the press, and locks it again_.
) Now quick, away!
The sweet young maiden to betray, So that by wish and will you bend her;
And you look as though To the lecture-hall you were forced to go,— As if stood before you, gray and loath, Physics and Metaphysics both!
But away!
[_Exeunt_.
MARGARET (_with a lamp_) It is so close, so sultry, here!
(_She opens the window_) And yet ’tis not so warm outside.
I feel, I know not why, such fear!
— Would mother came!
—where can she bide?
My body’s chill and shuddering,— I’m but a silly, fearsome thing!
(_She begins to sing while undressing_) There was a King in Thule, Was faithful till the grave,— To whom his mistress, dying, A golden goblet gave.
Naught was to him more precious;
He drained it at every bout: His eyes with tears ran over, As oft as he drank thereout.
When came his time of dying, The towns in his land he told, Naught else to his heir denying Except the goblet of gold.
He sat at the royal banquet With his knights of high degree, In the lofty hall of his fathers In the Castle by the Sea.
There stood the old carouser, And drank the last life-glow;
And hurled the hallowed goblet Into the tide below.
He saw it plunging and filling, And sinking deep in the sea: Then fell his eyelids forever, And never more drank he!
(_She opens the press in order to arrange her clothes, and perceives the casket of jewels_.
) How comes that lovely casket here to me?
I locked the press, most certainly.
’Tis truly wonderful!
What can within it be?
Perhaps ’twas brought by some one as a pawn, And mother gave a loan thereon?
And here there hangs a key to fit: I have a mind to open it.
What is that?
God in Heaven!
Whence came Such things?
Never beheld I aught so fair!
Rich ornaments, such as a noble dame On highest holidays might wear!
How would the pearl-chain suit my hair?
Ah, who may all this splendor own?
(_She adorns herself with the jewelry, and steps before the mirror_.
) Were but the ear-rings mine, alone!
One has at once another air.
What helps one’s beauty, youthful blood?
One may possess them, well and good;
But none the more do others care.
They praise us half in pity, sure: To gold still tends, On gold depends All, all!
Alas, we poor!
[Illustration] [Illustration] IX PROMENADE
(FAUST, _walking thoughtfully up and down.
To him_ MEPHISTOPHELES.
) MEPHISTOPHELES
By all love ever rejected!
By hell-fire hot and unsparing!
I wish I knew something worse, that I might use it for swearing!
FAUST
What ails thee?
What is’t gripes thee, elf?
A face like thine beheld I never.
MEPHISTOPHELES
I would myself unto the Devil deliver, If I were not a Devil myself!
FAUST
Thy head is out of order, sadly: It much becomes thee to be raving madly.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Just think, the pocket of a priest should get The trinkets left for Margaret!
The mother saw them, and, instanter, A secret dread began to haunt her.
Keen scent has she for tainted air;
She snuffs within her book of prayer, And smells each article, to see If sacred or profane it be;
So here she guessed, from every gem, That not much blessing came with them.
“My child,” she said, “ill-gotten good Ensnares the soul, consumes the blood.
Before the Mother of God we’ll lay it;
With heavenly manna she’ll repay it!
” But Margaret thought, with sour grimace, “A gift-horse is not out of place, And, truly!
godless cannot be The one who brought such things to me.
” A parson came, by the mother bidden: He saw, at once, where the game was hidden, And viewed it with a favor stealthy.
He spake: “That is the proper view,— Who overcometh, winneth too.
The Holy Church has a stomach healthy: Hath eaten many a land as forfeit, And never yet complained of surfeit: The Church alone, beyond all question, Has for ill-gotten goods the right digestion.
” FAUST
A general practice is the same, Which Jew and King may also claim.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Then bagged the spangles, chains, and rings, As if but toadstools were the things, And thanked no less, and thanked no more Than if a sack of nuts he bore,— Promised them fullest heavenly pay, And deeply edified were they.
FAUST
And Margaret?
MEPHISTOPHELES
Sits unrestful still, And knows not what she should, or will;
Thinks on the jewels, day and night, But more on him who gave her such delight.
FAUST
The darling’s sorrow gives me pain.
Get thou a set for her again!
The first was not a great display.
MEPHISTOPHELES
O yes, the gentleman finds it all child’s-play!
FAUST
Fix and arrange it to my will;
And on her neighbor try thy skill!
Don’t be a Devil stiff as paste, But get fresh jewels to her taste!
MEPHISTOPHELES
Yes, gracious Sir, in all obedience!
[_Exit_ FAUST.
Such an enamored fool in air would blow Sun, moon, and all the starry legions, To give his sweetheart a diverting show.
[_Exit_.
[Illustration] X THE NEIGHBOR’S HOUSE
MARTHA (_solus_) God forgive my husband, yet he Hasn’t done his duty by me!
Off in the world he went straightway,— Left me lie in the straw where I lay.
And, truly, I did naught to fret him: God knows I loved, and can’t forget him!
(_She weeps_.
) Perhaps he’s even dead!
Ah, woe!
— Had I a certificate to show!
MARGARET (_comes_) Dame Martha!
MARTHA
Margaret!
what’s happened thee?
MARGARET
I scarce can stand, my knees are trembling!
I find a box, the first resembling, Within my press!
Of ebony,— And things, all splendid to behold, And richer far than were the old.
MARTHA
You mustn’t tell it to your mother!
’Twould go to the priest, as did the other.
MARGARET
Ah, look and see—just look and see!
MARTHA (_adorning her_) O, what a blessed luck for thee!
MARGARET
But, ah!
in the streets I dare not bear them, Nor in the church be seen to wear them.
MARTHA
Yet thou canst often this way wander, And secretly the jewels don, Walk up and down an hour, before the mirror yonder,— We’ll have our private joy thereon.
And then a chance will come, a holiday, When, piece by piece, can one the things abroad display, A chain at first, then other ornament: Thy mother will not see, and stories we’ll invent.
MARGARET
Whoever could have brought me things so precious?
That something’s wrong, I feel suspicious.
(_A knock_) Good Heaven!
My mother can that have been?
MARTHA (_peeping through the blind_) ’Tis some strange gentleman.
—Come in!
(MEPHISTOPHELES _enters_.
) MEPHISTOPHELES
That I so boldly introduce me, I beg you, ladies, to excuse me.
(_Steps back reverently, on seeing_ MARGARET.
) For Martha Schwerdtlein I’d inquire!
MARTHA
I’m she: what does the gentleman desire?
MEPHISTOPHELES (_aside to her_) It is enough that you are she: You’ve a visitor of high degree.
Pardon the freedom I have ta’en,— Will after noon return again.
MARTHA (_aloud_) Of all things in the world!
Just hear— He takes thee for a lady, dear!
MARGARET
I am a creature young and poor: The gentleman’s too kind, I’m sure.
The jewels don’t belong to me.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Ah, not alone the jewelry!
The look, the manner, both betray— Rejoiced am I that I may stay!
MARTHA
What is your business?
I would fain— MEPHISTOPHELES
I would I had a more cheerful strain!
Take not unkindly its repeating: Your husband’s dead, and sends a greeting.
MARTHA
Is dead?
Alas, that heart so true!
My husband dead!
Let me die, too!
MARGARET
Ah, dearest dame, let not your courage fail!
MEPHISTOPHELES
Hear me relate the mournful tale!
MARGARET
Therefore I’d never love, believe me!
A loss like this to death would grieve me.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Joy follows woe, woe after joy comes flying.
MARTHA
Relate his life’s sad close to me!
MEPHISTOPHELES
In Padua buried, he is lying Beside the good Saint Antony, Within a grave well consecrated, For cool, eternal rest created.
