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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.]

FAUST (stamping)

 
Who's there?
 

MEPHISTOPHELES

 
A friend!
 

FAUST

 
A brute!
 

MEPHISTOPHELES

 
'Tis time to part.
 

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:
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 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 neighbor 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 laboring 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;
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 lord
To comfort the enamor'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 honorest not the sacraments, alas!
 

FAUST

 
I honor 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 hath 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.
Toward 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! Tonight
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 catechized,
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

 
Thou monster, dost not see that this
Pure soul, possessed by ardent love,
Full of the living faith,
To her of bliss
The only pledge, must holy anguish prove,
Holding the man she loves fore-doomed to endless death!
 

MEPHISTOPHELES

 
Most sensual, supersensualist! The while
A damsel leads thee by the nose!
 

FAUST

 
Of filth and fire abortion vile!
 

MEPHISTOPHELES

 
In 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 tonight—
 

FAUST

 
What's that to you?
 

MEPHISTOPHELES

 
I've my amusement in it too!
 

AT THE WELL

MARGARET and BESSY, with pitchers

BESSY

 
Of Barbara hast nothing heard?
 

MARGARET

 
I rarely go from home—no, not a word.
 

BESSY

 
'Tis true: Sybilla told me so today!
That comes of being proud, methinks;
She played the fool at last.
 

MARGARET

 
How so?
 

BESSY

 
 They say
That two she feedeth when she eats and drinks.
 

MARGARET

 
Alas!
 

BESSY

 
 She'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 wine.
Of her good looks she was so vain,
So shameless too, that to retain
His presents, she did not disdain;
Sweet words and kisses came anon—
And then the virgin flower was gone.
 

MARGARET

 
Poor thing!
 

BESSY

 
 Forsooth 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!
 

MARGARET

 
But he will surely marry her?
 

BESSY

 
 Not he!
He won't be such a fool! a gallant lad
Like him can roam o'er land and sea;
Besides, he's off.
 

MARGARET

 
That is not fair!
 

BESSY

 
If 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 toward 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!
 

ZWINGER

Inclosure between the City-wall and the Gate. (In the niche of the wall a devotional image of the Mater dolorosa, with flower-pots before it.)

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
 Ascends thy piteous sigh,
 Pleading for his and thy sore misery.
 
 
 Ah, who can know
 The torturing woe,
 The pangs that rack me to the bone?
 How my poor heart, without relief,
 Trembles and throbs, its yearning grief
 Thou knowest, thou alone!
 
 
 Ah, wheresoe'er I go,
 With woe, with woe, with woe,
 My anguish'd breast is aching!
 When all alone I creep,
 I weep, I weep, I weep,
 Alas! my heart is breaking!
 
 
 The flower-pots at my window
 Were wet with tears of mine,
 The while I pluck'd these blossoms
 At dawn to deck thy shrine!
 
 
 When early in my chamber
 Shone 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 MARGARET'S DOOR

VALENTINE (a soldier, MARGARET's brother)

 
When seated 'mong the jovial crowd,
Where merry comrades boasting loud
Each named with pride his favorite lass,
And in her honor drain'd his glass;
Upon my elbows I would lean,
With easy quiet view the scene,
Nor give my tongue the rein, until
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 wot
 Alive he shall not leave this spot!
 

FAUST. MEPHISTOPHELES

FAUST

 
How far 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.
 

MEPHISTOPHELES

 
I'm like a tom-cat in a thievish vein
That up fire-ladders tall and steep
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 burns
The glorious Walpurgis night!
After tomorrow it returns;
Then why one wakes, one knows aright!
 

FAUST

 
Meanwhile, the treasure I see glimmering there.
Will it ascend into the open air?
 

MEPHISTOPHELES

 
Ere 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.
 

FAUST

 
And not a trinket? not a ring?
Wherewith my lovely girl to deck?
 

MEPHISTOPHELES

 
I saw among them some such thing,
A string of pearls to grace her neck.
 

FAUST

 
'Tis well! I'm always loath to go,
Without some gift my love to show.
 

MEPHISTOPHELES

 
Some 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.
 

(Sings to the guitar.)

 
 Kathrina, say,
 Why lingering stay
 At dawn of day
 Before 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-catchers, your strains I'll end!
First, to the devil the guitar I'll send!
Then to the devil with the singer too!
 

MEPHISTOPHELES

 
The poor guitar! 'tis done for now.
 

VALENTINE

 
Your skull shall follow next, I trow!
 

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!
 

VALENTINE

 
Then parry that!
 

MEPHISTOPHELES

 
Why not?
 

VALENTINE

 
That too!
 

MEPHISTOPHELES

 
With ease!
 

VALENTINE

 
 The devil fights for you!
Why how is this? my hand's already lamed!
 

MEPHISTOPHELES (to FAUST)

 
Thrust home!
 

VALENTINE (falls)

 
Alas!
 

MEPHISTOPHELES

 
 There! 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!
 

PEOPLE

 
One lieth here already dead!
 

MARTHA (coming out)

 
Where are the murderers? are they fled?
 

MARGARET (coming out)

 
Who lieth here?
 

PEOPLE

 
Thy mother's son.
 

MARGARET

 
Almighty God! I am undone!
 

VALENTINE

 
I'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!
 

MARGARET

 
My brother! God! what can this mean?
 

VALENTINE

 
 Abstain,
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,
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 night
O'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 dight
Thou'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!
 

MARTHA

 
Your parting soul to God commend!
Your dying breath in slander will you spend?
 

VALENTINE

 
Could I but reach thy wither'd frame,
Thou wretched beldame, void of shame!
Full measure I might hope to win
Of pardon then for every sin.
 

MARGARET

 
Brother! what agonizing pain!
 

VALENTINE

 
I tell thee, from vain tears abstain!
'Twas thy dishonor pierced my heart,
Thy fall the fatal death-stab gave.
Through the death-sleep I now depart
To God, a soldier true and brave.
 

[Dies.]