Part 7
Ay, madam, what two witnesses declare Is 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.
MARTHA
I pray you do!
MEPHISTOPHELES
And this young lady, we shall find her too? A noble youth, far travelled, he Shows to the sex all courtesy.
MARGARET
I in his presence needs must blush for shame.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Not in the presence of a crowned king!
MARTH A
The garden, then, behind my house, we'll name, There we'll await you both this evening.
A STREET
FAUST. MEPHISTOPHELES
FAUST
How is it now? How speeds it? Is't in train?
MEPHISTOPHELES
Bravo! 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 made To drive the pimp and gipsy's trade.
FAUST
Good!
MEPHISTOPHELES
But from us she something would request.
FAUST
A favour claims return as this world goes.
MEPHISTOPHELES
We have on oath but duly to attest, That her dead husband's limbs, outstretch'd, repose In holy ground at Padua.
FAUST
Sage indeed! So I suppose we straight must journey there!
MEPHISTOPHELES
Sancta simplicitas! For that no need! Without much knowledge we have but to swear.
FAUST
If you have nothing better to suggest, Against your plan I must at once protest.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Oh, holy man! methinks I have you there! In all your life say, have you ne'er False 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!
FAUST
Thou art and dost remain liar and sophist too.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Ay, if one did not take a somewhat deeper view! To-morrow, in all honour, thou Poor Gretchen wilt befool, and vow Thy soul's deep love, in lover's fashion.
FAUST
And from my heart.
MEPHISTOPHELES
All good and fair! Then deathless constancy thou'lt swear; Speak of one all o'ermastering passion,-- Will that too issue from the heart?
FAUST
Forbear! When passion sways me, and I seek to frame Fit 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?
MEPHISTOPHELES
Yet am I right!
FAUST
Mark 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.
GARDEN
MARGARET on FAUST'S arm. MARTHA with MEPHISTOPHELES walking up and down
MARGARET
I 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 Too well, my humble prattle never can Have power to entertain so wise a man.
FAUST
One glance, one word from thee doth charm me more, Than the world's wisdom or the sage's lore. (He kisses her hand.)
MARGARET
Nay! 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.)
MARTHA
Thus, sir, unceasing travel is your lot?
MEPHISTOPHELES
Traffic and duty urge us! With what pain Are we compelled to leave full many a spot, Where yet we dare not once remain!
MARTHA
In 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.
MEPHISTOPHELES
The prospect fills me with dismay.
MARTHA
Therefore in time, dear sir, reflect, I pray. (They pass on.)
MARGARET
Ay, 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.
FAUST
O dearest, trust me, what doth pass for sense Full oft is self-conceit and blindness!
MARGARET
How?
FAUST
Simplicity and holy innocence,-- When will ye learn your hallow'ed worth to know! Ah, when will meekness and humility, Kind and all-bounteous nature's loftiest dower--
MARGARET
Only one little moment think of me! To think of you I shall have many an hour.
FAUST
You are perhaps much alone?
MARGARET
Yes, 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. But fairly quiet now my days, I own; As soldier is my brother gone; My little sister's dead; the babe to rear Occasion'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!
MARGARET
I 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 lay In such a wretched plight, and then at length So very slowly she regain'd her strength. Weak as she was, 'twas vain for her to try Herself to suckle the poor babe, so I Reared it on milk and water all alone; And thus the child became as 'twere roy own; Within my arms it stretched itself and grew, And smiling, nestled in my bosom too.
FAUST
Doubtless the purest happiness was thine.
MARGARET
But many weary hours, in sooth, were also mine. At night its little cradle stood Close to my bed; so was I wide awake If 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 heard, And, dancing it, must pace the chamber to and fro; Stand at the wash-tub early; forthwith go To market, and then mind the cooking too-- To-morrow like to-day, the whole year through. Ah, sir, thus living, it must be confess'd One's spirits are not always of the best; Yet it a relish gives to food and rest. (They pass on.)
MARTHA
Poor women! we are badly off, I own; A bachelor's conversion's hard, indeed!
MEPHISTOPHELES
Madam, with one like you it rests alone, To tutor me a better course to lead.
MARTHA
Speak frankly, sir, none is there you have met? Has your heart ne'er attach'd itself as yet?
MEPHISTOPHELES
One's own fire-side and a good wife are gold And pearls of price, so says the proverb old.
MARTHA
I mean, has passion never stirred your breast?
MEPHISTOPHELES
I've everywhere been well received, I own.
MARTHA
Yet hath your heart no earnest preference known?
MEPHISTOPHELES
With ladies one should ne'er presume to jest.
MARTHA
Ah! you mistake!
MEPHISTOPHELES
I'm sorry I'm so blind! But this I know--that you are very kind. (They pass on.)
FAUST
Me, little angel, didst thou recognise, When in the garden first I came?
MARGARET Did you not see it? I cast down my eyes.
FAUST Thou dost forgive my boldness, dost not blame The liberty I took that day, When thou from church didst lately wend thy way?
MARGARET
I 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 knew What 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.
FAUST
Sweet love!
MARGARET
Just wait awhile! (She gathers a star-flower and plucks off the leaves one after another.)
FAUST
A nosegay may that be?
MARGARET
No! It is but a game.
FAUST
How?
MARGARET
Go, you'll laugh at me! (She plucks off the leaves and murmurs to herself.)
FAUST
What murmurest thou?
MARGARET (half aloud)'
He loves me--loves me not.
FAUST
Sweet 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!
FAUST
Yes! 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.)
MARGARET
I tremble so!
FAUST
Nay! Do not tremble, love! Let this hand-pressure, let this glance reveal Feelings, all power of speech above; To give oneself up wholly and to feel A joy that must eternal prove! Eternal!--Yes, its end would be despair. No end!--It cannot end! (MARGARET presses his hand, extricates herself, and runs away. He stands a moment in thought, and then follows her.)
MARTHA (approaching)
Night's closing.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Yes, we'll presently away.
MARTHA
I 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?
MEPHISTOPHELES
They have flown up there. The wanton butterflies!
MARTHA
He seems to take to her.
MEPHISTOPHELES
And she to him. 'Tis of the world the way!
A SUMMER-HOUSE
(MARGARET runs in, hides behind the door, holds the tip of her finger to her lip, and peeps through the crevice.)
MARGARET
He comes!
FAUST
Ah, little rogue, so thou Think'st to provoke me! I have caught thee now! (He kisses her.)
MARGARET
(embracing him, and returning the kiss)
Dearest of men! I love thee from my heart! (MEPHISTOPHELES knocks.)
Who's there?
FAUST (stamping)
MEPHISTOPHELES
A friend!
FAUST
A brute!
MEPHISTOPHELES
MARTHA (comes)
Ay, it is late, good sir.
FAUST
Mayn't I attend you, then?
MARGARET
Oh no--my mother would--adieu, adieu!
FAUST
And must I really then take leave of you? Farewell!
MARTHA
Good-bye!
MARGARET
Ere long to meet again!
(Exeunt FAUST and MEPHISTOPHELES.)
MARGARET
Good heavens! how all things far and near Must 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 all For which I prayed! Not vainly hast thou turn'd To me thy countenance in flaming fire: Gayest 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 stream Teach me to know my kindred. And when roars The howling storm-blast through the groaning wood, Wrenching the giant pine, which in its fall Crashing sweeps down its neighbour trunks and boughs, While hollow thunder from the hill resounds; Then thou dost lead me to some shelter'd cave, Dost there reveal me to myself, and show Of my own bosom the mysterious depths. And when with soothing beam, the moon's pale orb Full in my view climbs up the pathless sky, From crag and dewy grove, the silvery forms Of by-gone ages hover, and assuage The 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 whom I needs must cling, though cold and insolent, He still degrades me to myself, and turns Thy glorious gifts to nothing, with a breath. He in my bosom with malicious zeal For that fair image fans a raging fire; From craving to enjoyment thus I reel, And in enjoyment languish for desire. (MEPHISTOPHELES enters.)
MEPHISTOPHELES
Of 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!
FAUST
Would you could better occupy your leisure, Than in disturbing thus my hours of joy.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Well! 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, 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.
FAUST
Ay truly! that is just the proper tone! He wearies me, and would with thanks be paid
MEPHISTOPHELES
Poor 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 embued, Dost suck, like any toad, thy food? A rare, sweet pastime. Verily! The doctor cleaveth still to thee.
FAUST
Dost comprehend what bliss without alloy From 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.
MEPHISTOPHELES
What 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, 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!
FAUST
Fie on you!
MEPHISTOPHELES
This displeases you? "For shame!" You are forsooth entitled to exclaim; We to chaste ears it seems must not pronounce What, 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 torn By 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; Pull in her heart didst pour the sudden gush, Now has thy brookiet ceased to flow. Instead of sitting throned midst forests wild, It would become so great a lord To comfort the enamour'd child, And the young monkey for her love reward. To her the hours seem miserably long; She from the window sees the clouds float by As 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. 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.
FAUST
Snake! Serpent vile!
MEPHISTOPHELES (aside)
Good! If I catch thee with my guile!
FAUST
Vile reprobate! go get thee hence; Forbear the lovely girl to name! Nor in my half-distracted sense, Kindle anew the smouldering flame!
MEPHISTOPHELES
What wouldest thou! She thinks you've taken flight; It seems, she's partly in the right.
FAUST I'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.
MEPHISTOPHELES
'Tis well! I oft have envied you indeed, The twin-pair that among the roses feed.
FAUST
Pander, avaunt!
MEPHISTOPHELES
Go to! I laugh, the while you rail, The power which fashion'd youth and maid, Well understood the noble trade; So neither shall occasion fail. But hence!--A mighty grief I trow! Unto thy lov'd one's chamber thou And not to death shouldst go.
FAUST
What 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 graced The 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 whirl To blast the stedfast 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!
MEPHISTOPHELES
Why 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.
MARGARET'S ROOM
MARGARET (alone at her spinning wheel)
My peace is gone, My heart is Sore, I find it never, And nevermore!
Where him I have not, Is the grave; and all The world to me Is turned to gall.
My wilder'd brain Is overwrought; My feeble senses Are distraught.
My peace is gone, My heart is sore, I find it never, And nevermore!
For him from the window I gaze, at home; For him and him only Abroad I roam.
His lofty step, His bearing high, The smile of his lip, The power of his eye,
His witching words, Their tones of bliss, His hand's fond pressure, And ah--his kiss!
My peace is gone, My heart is sore, I find it never, And nevermore.
My bosom aches To feel him near; Ah, could I clasp And fold him here!
Kiss him and kiss him Again would I, And on his kisses I fain would die.
MARTHA'S GARDEN
MARGARET and FAUST
MARGARET
Promise me, Henry!
FAUST
What I can!
MARGARET
How thy religion fares, I fain would hear. Thou art a good kind-hearted man, Only that way not well-disposed, I fear.
FAUST
Forbear, 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.
MARGARET
That's not enough, we must ourselves believe!
FAUST
Must we?
MARGARET
Ah, could I but thy soul inspire! Thou honourest not the sacraments, alas!
FAUST
I honour them.
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 they Seem, in the answer you receive, To mock the questioner.
MARGARET
Then thou dost not believe?
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 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 smoke Shrouding the glow of heaven.
MARGARET
All this is doubtless good and fair; Almost the same the parson says, Only in slightly different phrase.
FAUST
Beneath 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?
MARGARET
What thus I hear Sounds plausible, yet I'm not reconciled; There's something wrong about it; much I fear That thou art not a Christian.
FAUST
My sweet child!
MARGARET
Alas! it long bath sorely troubled me, To see thee in such odious company.
FAUST
How so?
MARGARET
The 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.
FAUST
Him fear not, my sweet love!
MARGARET
His presence chills my blood. Towards all beside I have a kindly mood; Yet, though I yearn to gaze on thee, I feel At 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!
MARGARET
I 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 clear; Upon 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.
FAUST
Foreboding angel! check thy fear!
MARGARET
It 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 thee The same, my Henry, it must be.
FAUST
This is antipathy!
MARGARET
I must away.
FAUST
For one brief hour then may I never rest, And heart to heart, and soul to soul be pressed?
MARGARET
Ah, if I slept alone! To-night The 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.
FAUST
Dear angel! there's no cause for dread. Here is a little phial,--if she take Mixed in her drink three drops, 'twill steep Her nature in a deep and soothing sleep.
MARGARET
What Do I not for thy dear sake! To her it will not harmful prove?
FAUST
Should I advise it else, sweet love?
MARGARET
I 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)
MEPHISTOPHELES
The monkey! Is she gone?
FAUST
Again hast played the spy?
MEPHISTOPHELES
Of 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 indeed Touching their lover's faith and creed, And whether pious in the good old way; They think, if pliant there, us too he will obey.
FAUST