Chapter III: Part 3

_Frosch_. How do you mean? Have you so many kinds?

_Mephistopheles_. Enough to suit all sorts of minds.

_Altmayer_. Aha! old sot, your lips already licking!

_Frosch_. Well, then! if I must choose, let Rhine-wine fill my beaker, Our fatherland supplies the noblest liquor.

MEPHISTOPHELES
[_boring a hole in the rim of the table near the place
where_ FROSCH _sits_].
Get us a little wax right off to make the stoppers!

_Altmayer_. Ah, these are jugglers' tricks, and whappers!

_Mephistopheles_ [_to Brander_]. And you?

_Brander_. Champaigne's the wine for me, But then right sparkling it must be!

[MEPHISTOPHELES _bores; meanwhile one of them has made
the wax-stoppers and stopped the holes_.]

_Brander_. Hankerings for foreign things will sometimes haunt you, The good so far one often finds; Your real German man can't bear the French, I grant you, And yet will gladly drink their wines.

_Siebel_ [_while Mephistopheles approaches his seat_]. I don't like sour, it sets my mouth awry, Let mine have real sweetness in it!

_Mephistopheles_ [_bores_]. Well, you shall have Tokay this minute.

_Altmayer_. No, sirs, just look me in the eye! I see through this, 'tis what the chaps call smoking.

_Mephistopheles_. Come now! That would be serious joking, To make so free with worthy men. But quickly now! Speak out again! With what description can I serve you?

_Altmayer_. Wait not to ask; with any, then.

[_After all the holes are bored and stopped_.]

_Mephistopheles_ [_with singular gestures_]. From the vine-stock grapes we pluck; Horns grow on the buck; Wine is juicy, the wooden table, Like wooden vines, to give wine is able. An eye for nature's depths receive! Here is a miracle, only believe! Now draw the plugs and drink your fill!

ALL
[_drawing the stoppers, and catching each in his glass
the wine he had desired_].
Sweet spring, that yields us what we will!

_Mephistopheles_. Only be careful not a drop to spill!
[_They drink repeatedly_.]

_All_ [_sing_]. We're happy all as cannibals,
Five hundred hogs together.

_Mephistopheles_. Look at them now, they're happy as can be!

_Faust_. To go would suit my inclination.

_Mephistopheles_. But first give heed, their bestiality Will make a glorious demonstration.

SIEBEL
[_drinks carelessly; the wine is spilt upon the ground
and turns to flame_].
Help! fire! Ho! Help! The flames of hell!

_Mephistopheles [_conjuring the flame_]. Peace, friendly element, be still! [_To the Toper_.] This time 'twas but a drop of fire from purgatory.

_Siebel_. What does this mean? Wait there, or you'll be sorry! It seems you do not know us well.

_Frosch_. Not twice, in this way, will it do to joke us!

_Altmayer_. I vote, we give him leave himself here _scarce_ to make.

_Siebel_. What, sir! How dare you undertake To carry on here your old hocus-pocus?

_Mephistopheles_. Be still, old wine-cask!

_Siebel_. Broomstick, you! Insult to injury add? Confound you!

_Brander_. Stop there! Or blows shall rain down round you!

ALTMAYER
[_draws a stopper out of the table; fire flies at him_].
I burn! I burn!

_Siebel_. Foul sorcery! Shame! Lay on! the rascal is fair game!

[_They draw their knives and rush at_ MEPHISTOPHELES.]

_Mephistopheles_ [_with a serious mien_]. Word and shape of air! Change place, new meaning wear! Be here--and there!

[_They stand astounded and look at each other_.]

_Altmayer_. Where am I? What a charming land!

_Frosch_. Vine hills! My eyes! Is't true?

_Siebel_. And grapes, too, close at hand!

_Brander_. Beneath this green see what a stem is growing!
See what a bunch of grapes is glowing!
[_He seizes_ SIEBEL _by the nose. The rest do the same to each
other and raise their knives._]

_Mephistopheles_ [_as above_]. Loose, Error, from their eyes the band!
How Satan plays his tricks, you need not now be told of.
[_He vanishes with_ FAUST, _the companions start back from each
other_.]

_Siebel_. What ails me?

_Altmayer_. How?

_Frosch_. Was that thy nose, friend, I had hold of?

_Brander_ [_to Siebel_]. And I have thine, too, in my hand!

_Altmayer_. O what a shock! through all my limbs 'tis crawling! Get me a chair, be quick, I'm falling!

_Frosch_. No, say what was the real case?

_Siebel_. O show me where the churl is hiding! Alive he shall not leave the place!

_Altmayer_. Out through the cellar-door I saw him riding-- Upon a cask--he went full chase.-- Heavy as lead my feet are growing.

[_Turning towards the table_.]

My! If the wine should yet be flowing.

_Siebel_. 'Twas all deception and moonshine.

_Frosch_. Yet I was sure I did drink wine.

_Brander_. But how about the bunches, brother?

_Altmayer_. After such miracles, I'll doubt no other!

WITCHES' KITCHEN.

[_On a low hearth stands a great kettle over the fire. In the smoke, which rises from it, are seen various forms. A female monkey[28] sits by the kettle and skims it, and takes care that it does not run over. The male monkey with the young ones sits close by, warming himself. Walls and ceiling are adorned 'with the most singular witch-household stuff_.]

FAUST. MEPHISTOPHELES.

_Faust_. Would that this vile witch-business were well over! Dost promise me I shall recover In this hodge-podge of craziness? From an old hag do I advice require? And will this filthy cooked-up mess My youth by thirty years bring nigher? Woe's me, if that's the best you know! Already hope is from my bosom banished. Has not a noble mind found long ago Some balsam to restore a youth that's vanished?

_Mephistopheles_. My friend, again thou speakest a wise thought! I know a natural way to make thee young,--none apter! But in another book it must be sought, And is a quite peculiar chapter.

_Faust_. I beg to know it.

_Mephistopheles_. Well! here's one that needs no pay, No help of physic, nor enchanting. Out to the fields without delay, And take to hacking, digging, planting; Run the same round from day to day, A treadmill-life, contented, leading, With simple fare both mind and body feeding, Live with the beast as beast, nor count it robbery Shouldst thou manure, thyself, the field thou reapest; Follow this course and, trust to me, For eighty years thy youth thou keepest!

_Faust_. I am not used to that, I ne'er could bring me to it, To wield the spade, I could not do it. The narrow life befits me not at all.

_Mephistopheles_. So must we on the witch, then, call.

_Faust_. But why just that old hag? Canst thou Not brew thyself the needful liquor?

_Mephistopheles_. That were a pretty pastime now I'd build about a thousand bridges quicker. Science and art alone won't do, The work will call for patience, too; Costs a still spirit years of occupation: Time, only, strengthens the fine fermentation. To tell each thing that forms a part Would sound to thee like wildest fable! The devil indeed has taught the art; To make it not the devil is able. [_Espying the animals_.] See, what a genteel breed we here parade! This is the house-boy! that's the maid! [_To the animals_.] Where's the old lady gone a mousing?

_The animals_. Carousing; Out she went By the chimney-vent!

_Mephistopheles_. How long does she spend in gadding and storming?

_The animals_. While we are giving our paws a warming.

_Mephistopheles_ [_to Faust_]. How do you find the dainty creatures?

_Faust_. Disgusting as I ever chanced to see!

_Mephistopheles_. No! a discourse like this to me, I own, is one of life's most pleasant features; [_To the animals_.] Say, cursed dolls, that sweat, there, toiling! What are you twirling with the spoon?

_Animals_. A common beggar-soup we're boiling.

_Mephistopheles_. You'll have a run of custom soon.

THE HE-MONKEY
[_Comes along and fawns on_ MEPHISTOPHELES].
O fling up the dice,
Make me rich in a trice,
Turn fortune's wheel over!
My lot is right bad,
If money I had,
My wits would recover.

_Mephistopheles_. The monkey'd be as merry as a cricket, Would somebody give him a lottery-ticket!

[_Meanwhile the young monkeys have been playing with a great
ball, which they roll backward and forward_.]

_The monkey_. 'The world's the ball;
See't rise and fall,
Its roll you follow;
Like glass it rings:
Both, brittle things!
Within 'tis hollow.
There it shines clear,
And brighter here,--
I live--by 'Pollo!--
Dear son, I pray,
Keep hands away!
_Thou_ shalt fall so!
'Tis made of clay,
Pots are, also.

_Mephistopheles_. What means the sieve?

_The monkey [takes it down_]. Wert thou a thief,
'Twould show the thief and shame him.
[_Runs to his mate and makes her look through_.]
Look through the sieve!
Discern'st thou the thief,
And darest not name him?

_Mephistopheles [approaching the fire_]. And what's this pot?

_The monkeys_. The dunce! I'll be shot!
He knows not the pot,
He knows not the kettle!

_Mephistopheles_. Impertinence! Hush!

_The monkey_. Here, take you the brush,
And sit on the settle!
[_He forces_ MEPHISTOPHELES _to sit down_.]

FAUST
[_who all this time has been standing before a looking-glass,
now approaching and now receding from it_].

What do I see? What heavenly face Doth, in this magic glass, enchant me! O love, in mercy, now, thy swiftest pinions grant me! And bear me to her field of space! Ah, if I seek to approach what doth so haunt me, If from this spot I dare to stir, Dimly as through a mist I gaze on her!-- The loveliest vision of a woman! Such lovely woman can there be? Must I in these reposing limbs naught human. But of all heavens the finest essence see? Was such a thing on earth seen ever?

_Mephistopheles_. Why, when you see a God six days in hard work spend, And then cry bravo at the end, Of course you look for something clever. Look now thy fill; I have for thee Just such a jewel, and will lead thee to her; And happy, whose good fortune it shall be, To bear her home, a prospered wooer!

[FAUST _keeps on looking into the mirror_. MEPHISTOPHELES _stretching himself out on the settle and playing with the brush, continues speaking_.] Here sit I like a king upon his throne, The sceptre in my hand,--I want the crown alone.

THE ANIMALS
[_who up to this time have been going through all sorts of queer antics
with each other, bring_ MEPHISTOPHELES _a crown with a loud cry_].
O do be so good,--
With sweat and with blood,
To take it and lime it;
[_They go about clumsily with the crown and break it into two pieces,
with which they jump round_.]
'Tis done now! We're free!
We speak and we see,
We hear and we rhyme it;

_Faust [facing the mirror_]. Woe's me! I've almost lost my wits.

_Mephistopheles [pointing to the animals_]. My head, too, I confess, is very near to spinning.

_The animals_. And then if it hits
And every thing fits,
We've thoughts for our winning.

_Faust [as before_]. Up to my heart the flame is flying! Let us begone--there's danger near!

_Mephistopheles [in the former position_]. Well, this, at least, there's no denying, That we have undissembled poets here.

[The kettle, which the she-monkey has hitherto left unmatched, begins to run over; a great flame breaks out, which roars up the chimney. The_ WITCH _comes riding down through the flame with a terrible outcry_.]

_Witch_. Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!
The damned beast! The cursed sow!
Neglected the kettle, scorched the Frau!
The cursed crew!
[_Seeing_ FAUST _and_ MEPHISTOPHELES.]
And who are you?
And what d'ye do?
And what d'ye want?
And who sneaked in?
The fire-plague grim
Shall light on him
In every limb!

[_She makes a dive at the kettle with the skimmer and spatters flames
at _FAUST, MEPHISTOPHELES_, and the creatures. These last whimper_.]

MEPHISTOPHELES
[_inverting the brush which he holds in his hand, and striking
among the glasses and pots_].

In two! In two! There lies the brew! There lies the glass! This joke must pass; For time-beat, ass! To thy melody, 'twill do. [_While the_ WITCH _starts back full of wrath and horror.] Skeleton! Scarcecrow! Spectre! Know'st thou me, Thy lord and master? What prevents my dashing Right in among thy cursed company, Thyself and all thy monkey spirits smashing? Has the red waistcoat thy respect no more? Has the cock's-feather, too, escaped attention? Hast never seen this face before? My name, perchance, wouldst have me mention?

_The witch_. Pardon the rudeness, sir, in me! But sure no cloven foot I see. Nor find I your two ravens either.

_Mephistopheles_. I'll let thee off for this once so; For a long while has passed, full well I know, Since the last time we met together. The culture, too, which licks the world to shape, The devil himself cannot escape; The phantom of the North men's thoughts have left behind them, Horns, tail, and claws, where now d'ye find them? And for the foot, with which dispense I nowise can, 'Twould with good circles hurt my standing; And so I've worn, some years, like many a fine young man, False calves to make me more commanding.

_The witch [dancing_]. O I shall lose my wits, I fear, Do I, again, see Squire Satan here!

_Mephistopheles_. Woman, the name offends my ear!

_The witch_. Why so? What has it done to you?

_Mephistopheles_. It has long since to fable-books been banished; But men are none the better for it; true, The wicked _one_, but not the wicked _ones_, has vanished. Herr Baron callst thou me, then all is right and good; I am a cavalier, like others. Doubt me? Doubt for a moment of my noble blood? See here the family arms I bear about me! [_He makes an indecent gesture.]

The witch [laughs immoderately_]. Ha! ha! full well I know you, sir! You are the same old rogue you always were!

_Mephistopheles [to Faust_]. I pray you, carefully attend, This is the way to deal with witches, friend.

_The witch_. Now, gentles, what shall I produce?

_Mephistopheles_. A right good glassful of the well-known juice! And pray you, let it be the oldest; Age makes it doubly strong for use.

_The witch_. Right gladly! Here I have a bottle, From which, at times, I wet my throttle; Which now, not in the slightest, stinks; A glass to you I don't mind giving; [_Softly_.] But if this man, without preparing, drinks, He has not, well you know, another hour for living.

_Mephistopheles_. 'Tis a good friend of mine, whom it shall straight cheer up; Thy kitchen's best to give him don't delay thee. Thy ring--thy spell, now, quick, I pray thee, And give him then a good full cup.

[_The_ WITCH, _with strange gestures, draws a circle, and places singular things in it; mean-while the glasses begin to ring, the kettle to sound and make music. Finally, she brings a great book and places the monkeys in the circle, whom she uses as a reading-desk and to hold the torches. She beckons_ FAUST _to come to her_.]

_Faust [to Mephistopheles_]. Hold! what will come of this? These creatures, These frantic gestures and distorted features, And all the crazy, juggling fluff, I've known and loathed it long enough!

_Mephistopheles_. Pugh! that is only done to smoke us; Don't be so serious, my man! She must, as Doctor, play her hocus-pocus To make the dose work better, that's the plan. [_He constrains_ FAUST _to step into the circle_.]

THE WITCH
[_beginning with great emphasis to declaim out of the book_]

Remember then!
Of One make Ten,
The Two let be,
Make even Three,
There's wealth for thee.
The Four pass o'er!
Of Five and Six,
(The witch so speaks,)
Make Seven and Eight,
The thing is straight:
And Nine is One
And Ten is none--
This is the witch's one-time-one![24]

_Faust_. The old hag talks like one delirious.

_Mephistopheles_. There's much more still, no less mysterious, I know it well, the whole book sounds just so! I've lost full many a year in poring o'er it, For perfect contradiction, you must know, A mystery stands, and fools and wise men bow before it, The art is old and new, my son. Men, in all times, by craft and terror, With One and Three, and Three and One, For truth have propagated error. They've gone on gabbling so a thousand years; Who on the fools would waste a minute? Man generally thinks, if words he only hears, Articulated noise must have some meaning in it.

_The witch [goes on_]. Deep wisdom's power
Has, to this hour,
From all the world been hidden!
Whoso thinks not,
To him 'tis brought,
To him it comes unbidden.

_Faust_. What nonsense is she talking here? My heart is on the point of cracking. In one great choir I seem to hear A hundred thousand ninnies clacking.

_Mephistopheles_. Enough, enough, rare Sibyl, sing us These runes no more, thy beverage bring us, And quickly fill the goblet to the brim; This drink may by my friend be safely taken: Full many grades the man can reckon, Many good swigs have entered him.

[_The_ WITCH, _with many ceremonies, pours the drink into a cup;
as she puts it to_ FAUST'S _lips, there rises a light flame_.]

_Mephistopheles_. Down with it! Gulp it down! 'Twill prove All that thy heart's wild wants desire. Thou, with the devil, hand and glove,[25] And yet wilt be afraid of fire?

[_The_ WITCH _breaks the circle_; FAUST _steps out_.]

_Mephistopheles_. Now briskly forth! No rest for thee!

_The witch_. Much comfort may the drink afford you!

_Mephistopheles [to the witch_]. And any favor you may ask of me, I'll gladly on Walpurgis' night accord you.

_The witch_. Here is a song, which if you sometimes sing, 'Twill stir up in your heart a special fire.

_Mephistopheles [to Faust_]. Only make haste; and even shouldst thou tire, Still follow me; one must perspire, That it may set his nerves all quivering. I'll teach thee by and bye to prize a noble leisure, And soon, too, shalt thou feel with hearty pleasure, How busy Cupid stirs, and shakes his nimble wing.

_Faust_. But first one look in yonder glass, I pray thee! Such beauty I no more may find!

_Mephistopheles_. Nay! in the flesh thine eyes shall soon display thee The model of all woman-kind. [_Softly_.] Soon will, when once this drink shall heat thee, In every girl a Helen meet thee!

A STREET.

FAUST. MARGARET [_passing over_].

_Faust_. My fair young lady, will it offend her If I offer my arm and escort to lend her?

_Margaret_. Am neither lady, nor yet am fair! Can find my way home without any one's care. [_Disengages herself and exit_.]

_Faust_. By heavens, but then the child _is_ fair! I've never seen the like, I swear. So modest is she and so pure, And somewhat saucy, too, to be sure. The light of the cheek, the lip's red bloom, I shall never forget to the day of doom! How me cast down her lovely eyes, Deep in my soul imprinted lies; How she spoke up, so curt and tart, Ah, that went right to my ravished heart! [_Enter_ MEPHISTOPHELES.]

_Faust_. Hark, thou shalt find me a way to address her!

_Mephistopheles_. Which one?

_Faust_. She just went by.

_Mephistopheles_. What! She? She came just now from her father confessor, Who from all sins pronounced her free; I stole behind her noiselessly, 'Tis an innocent thing, who, for nothing at all, Must go to the confessional; O'er such as she no power I hold!

_Faust_. But then she's over fourteen years old.

_Mephistopheles_. Thou speak'st exactly like Jack Rake, Who every fair flower his own would make. And thinks there can be no favor nor fame, But one may straightway pluck the same. But 'twill not always do, we see.

_Faust_. My worthy Master Gravity, Let not a word of the Law be spoken! One thing be clearly understood,-- Unless I clasp the sweet, young blood This night in my arms--then, well and good: When midnight strikes, our bond is broken.

_Mephistopheles_. Reflect on all that lies in the way! I need a fortnight, at least, to a day, For finding so much as a way to reach her.

_Faust_. Had I seven hours, to call my own, Without the devil's aid, alone I'd snare with ease so young a creature.

_Mephistopheles_. You talk quite Frenchman-like to-day; But don't be vexed beyond all measure. What boots it thus to snatch at pleasure? 'Tis not so great, by a long way, As if you first, with tender twaddle, And every sort of fiddle-faddle, Your little doll should mould and knead, As one in French romances may read.

_Faust_. My appetite needs no such spur.

_Mephistopheles_. Now, then, without a jest or slur, I tell you, once for all, such speed With the fair creature won't succeed. Nothing will here by storm be taken; We must perforce on intrigue reckon.

_Faust_. Get me some trinket the angel has blest! Lead me to her chamber of rest! Get me a 'kerchief from her neck, A garter get me for love's sweet sake!

_Mephistopheles_. To prove to you my willingness To aid and serve you in this distress; You shall visit her chamber, by me attended, Before the passing day is ended.

_Faust_. And see her, too? and have her?

_Mephistopheles_. Nay! She will to a neighbor's have gone away. Meanwhile alone by yourself you may, There in her atmosphere, feast at leisure And revel in dreams of future pleasure.

_Faust_. Shall we start at once?

_Mephistopheles_. 'Tis too early yet.

_Faust_. Some present to take her for me you must get.

[_Exit_.]

_Mephistopheles_. Presents already! Brave! He's on the right foundation! Full many a noble place I know, And treasure buried long ago; Must make a bit of exploration.

[_Exit_.]

EVENING.

_A little cleanly Chamber_.

MARGARET [_braiding and tying up her hair_.] I'd give a penny just to say What gentleman that was to-day! How very gallant he seemed to be, He's of a noble family; That I could read from his brow and bearing-- And he would not have otherwise been so daring. [_Exit_.]

FAUST. MEPHISTOPHELES.

_Mephistopheles_. Come in, step softly, do not fear!

_Faust [after a pause_]. Leave me alone, I prithee, here!

_Mephistopheles [peering round_]. Not every maiden keeps so neat.
[_Exit_.]

_Faust [gazing round_]. Welcome this hallowed still retreat! Where twilight weaves its magic glow. Seize on my heart, love-longing, sad and sweet, That on the dew of hope dost feed thy woe! How breathes around the sense of stillness, Of quiet, order, and content! In all this poverty what fulness! What blessedness within this prison pent! [_He throws himself into a leathern chair by the bed_.] Take me, too! as thou hast, in years long flown, In joy and grief, so many a generation! Ah me! how oft, on this ancestral throne, Have troops of children climbed with exultation! Perhaps, when Christmas brought the Holy Guest, My love has here, in grateful veneration The grandsire's withered hand with child-lips prest. I feel, O maiden, circling me, Thy spirit of grace and fulness hover, Which daily like a mother teaches thee The table-cloth to spread in snowy purity, And even, with crinkled sand the floor to cover. Dear, godlike hand! a touch of thine Makes this low house a heavenly kingdom slime! And here! [_He lifts a bed-curtain_.] What blissful awe my heart thrills through! Here for long hours could I linger. Here, Nature! in light dreams, thy airy finger The inborn angel's features drew! Here lay the child, when life's fresh heavings Its tender bosom first made warm, And here with pure, mysterious weavings The spirit wrought its godlike form! And thou! What brought thee here? what power Stirs in my deepest soul this hour? What wouldst thou here? What makes thy heart so sore? Unhappy Faust! I know thee thus no more. Breathe I a magic atmosphere? The will to enjoy how strong I felt it,-- And in a dream of love am now all melted! Are we the sport of every puff of air? And if she suddenly should enter now, How would she thy presumptuous folly humble! Big John-o'dreams! ah, how wouldst thou Sink at her feet, collapse and crumble!

_Mephistopheles_. Quick, now! She comes! I'm looking at her.

_Faust_. Away! Away! O cruel fate!

_Mephistopheles_. Here is a box of moderate weight; I got it somewhere else--no matter! Just shut it up, here, in the press, I swear to you, 'twill turn her senses; I meant the trifles, I confess, To scale another fair one's fences. True, child is child and play is play.

_Faust_. Shall I? I know not.

_Mephistopheles_. Why delay? You mean perhaps to keep the bauble? If so, I counsel you to spare From idle passion hours so fair, And me, henceforth, all further trouble. I hope you are not avaricious! I rub my hands, I scratch my head-- [_He places the casket in the press and locks it up again_.] (Quick! Time we sped!)-- That the dear creature may be led And moulded by your will and wishes; And you stand here as glum, As one at the door of the auditorium, As if before your eyes you saw In bodily shape, with breathless awe, Metaphysics and physics, grim and gray! Away! [_Exit_.]

_Margaret [with a lamp_]. It seems so close, so sultry here.
[_She opens the window_.]
Yet it isn't so very warm out there,
I feel--I know not how--oh dear!
I wish my mother 'ld come home, I declare!
I feel a shudder all over me crawl--
I'm a silly, timid thing, that's all!
[_She begins to sing, while undressing_.]
There was a king in Thulè,
To whom, when near her grave,
The mistress he loved so truly
A golden goblet gave.

He cherished it as a lover,
He drained it, every bout;
His eyes with tears ran over,
As oft as he drank thereout.

And when he found himself dying,
His towns and cities he told;
Naught else to his heir denying
Save only the goblet of gold.

His knights he straightway gathers
And in the midst sate he,
In the banquet hall of the fathers
In the castle over the sea.

There stood th' old knight of liquor,
And drank the last life-glow,
Then flung the holy beaker
Into the flood below.

He saw it plunging, drinking
And sinking in the roar,
His eyes in death were sinking,
He never drank one drop more.
[_She opens the press, to put away her clothes,
and discovers the casket_.]

How in the world came this fine casket here? I locked the press, I'm very clear. I wonder what's inside! Dear me! it's very queer! Perhaps 'twas brought here as a pawn, In place of something mother lent. Here is a little key hung on, A single peep I shan't repent! What's here? Good gracious! only see! I never saw the like in my born days! On some chief festival such finery Might on some noble lady blaze. How would this chain become my neck! Whose may this splendor be, so lonely? [_She arrays herself in it, and steps before the glass_.] Could I but claim the ear-rings only! A different figure one would make. What's beauty worth to thee, young blood! May all be very well and good; What then? 'Tis half for pity's sake They praise your pretty features. Each burns for gold, All turns on gold,-- Alas for us! poor creatures!

PROMENADE.

FAUST [_going up and down in thought_.] MEPHISTOPHELES _to him_.

_Mephistopheles_. By all that ever was jilted! By all the infernal fires! I wish I knew something worse, to curse as my heart desires!

_Faust_. What griping pain has hold of thee? Such grins ne'er saw I in the worst stage-ranter!

_Mephistopheles_. Oh, to the devil I'd give myself instanter, If I were not already he!

_Faust_. Some pin's loose in your head, old fellow! That fits you, like a madman thus to bellow!

_Mephistopheles_. Just think, the pretty toy we got for Peg, A priest has hooked, the cursed plague I-- The thing came under the eye of the mother, And caused her a dreadful internal pother: The woman's scent is fine and strong; Snuffles over her prayer-book all day long, And knows, by the smell of an article, plain, Whether the thing is holy or profane; And as to the box she was soon aware There could not be much blessing there. "My child," she cried, "unrighteous gains Ensnare the soul, dry up the veins. We'll consecrate it to God's mother, She'll give us some heavenly manna or other!" Little Margaret made a wry face; "I see 'Tis, after all, a gift horse," said she; "And sure, no godless one is he Who brought it here so handsomely." The mother sent for a priest (they're cunning); Who scarce had found what game was running, When he rolled his greedy eyes like a lizard, And, "all is rightly disposed," said he, "Who conquers wins, for a certainty. The church has of old a famous gizzard, She calls it little whole lands to devour, Yet never a surfeit got to this hour; The church alone, dear ladies; _sans_ question, Can give unrighteous gains digestion."

_Faust_. That is a general pratice, too, Common alike with king and Jew.

_Mephistopheles_. Then pocketed bracelets and chains and rings As if they were mushrooms or some such things, With no more thanks, (the greedy-guts!) Than if it had been a basket of nuts, Promised them all sorts of heavenly pay-- And greatly edified were they.

_Faust_. And Margery?

_Mephistopheles_. Sits there in distress, And what to do she cannot guess, The jewels her daily and nightly thought, And he still more by whom they were brought.

_Faust._ My heart is troubled for my pet. Get her at once another set! The first were no great things in their way.

_Mephistopheles._ O yes, my gentleman finds all child's play!

_Faust._ And what I wish, that mind and do! Stick closely to her neighbor, too. Don't be a devil soft as pap, And fetch me some new jewels, old chap!

_Mephistopheles._ Yes, gracious Sir, I will with pleasure. [_Exit_ FAUST.] Such love-sick fools will puff away Sun, moon, and stars, and all in the azure, To please a maiden's whimsies, any day. [_Exit._]

THE NEIGHBOR'S HOUSE.

MARTHA [_alone]._ My dear good man--whom God forgive! He has not treated me well, as I live! Right off into the world he's gone And left me on the straw alone. I never did vex him, I say it sincerely, I always loved him, God knows how dearly. [_She weeps_.] Perhaps he's dead!--O cruel fate!-- If I only had a certificate!

_Enter_ MARGARET.
Dame Martha!

_Martha_. What now, Margery?

_Margaret_. I scarce can keep my knees from sinking! Within my press, again, not thinking, I find a box of ebony, With things--can't tell how grand they are,-- More splendid than the first by far.

_Martha_. You must not tell it to your mother, She'd serve it as she did the other.

_Margaret_. Ah, only look! Behold and see!

_Martha [puts them on her_]. Fortunate thing! I envy thee!

_Margaret._ Alas, in the street or at church I never Could be seen on any account whatever.

_Martha._ Come here as often as you've leisure, And prink yourself quite privately; Before the looking-glass walk up and down at pleasure, Fine times for both us 'twill be; Then, on occasions, say at some great feast, Can show them to the world, one at a time, at least. A chain, and then an ear-pearl comes to view; Your mother may not see, we'll make some pretext, too.

_Margaret._ Who could have brought both caskets in succession? There's something here for just suspicion! [_A knock._ ] Ah, God! If that's my mother--then!

_Martha_ [_peeping through the blind_]. 'Tis a strange gentleman--come in!

[_Enter_ MEPHISTOPHELES.] Must, ladies, on your kindness reckon To excuse the freedom I have taken; [_Steps back with profound respect at seeing_ MARGARET.] I would for Dame Martha Schwerdtlein inquire!

_Martha._ I'm she, what, sir, is your desire?

_Mephistopheles_ [_aside to her_]. I know your face, for now 'twill do; A distinguished lady is visiting you. For a call so abrupt be pardon meted, This afternoon it shall be repeated.

_Martha [aloud]._ For all the world, think, child! my sakes! The gentleman you for a lady takes.

_Margaret_. Ah, God! I am a poor young blood; The gentleman is quite too good; The jewels and trinkets are none of my own.

_Mephistopheles_. Ah, 'tis not the jewels and trinkets alone; Her look is so piercing, so _distinguè_! How glad I am to be suffered to stay.

_Martha_. What bring you, sir? I long to hear--

_Mephistopheles_. Would I'd a happier tale for your ear! I hope you'll forgive me this one for repeating: Your husband is dead and sends you a greeting.

_Martha_. Is dead? the faithful heart! Woe! Woe! My husband dead! I, too, shall go!

_Margaret_. Ah, dearest Dame, despair not thou!

_Mephistopheles_ Then, hear the mournful story now!

_Margaret_. Ah, keep me free from love forever, I should never survive such a loss, no, never!

_Mephistopheles_. Joy and woe, woe and joy, must have each other.

_Martha_. Describe his closing hours to me!

_Mephistopheles_. In Padua lies our departed brother, In the churchyard of St. Anthony, In a cool and quiet bed lies sleeping, In a sacred spot's eternal keeping.

_Martha_. And this was all you had to bring me?

_Mephistopheles_. All but one weighty, grave request! "Bid her, when I am dead, three hundred masses sing me!" With this I have made a clean pocket and breast.

_Martha_. What! not a medal, pin nor stone? Such as, for memory's sake, no journeyman will lack, Saved in the bottom of his sack, And sooner would hunger, be a pauper--

_Mephistopheles_. Madam, your case is hard, I own! But blame him not, he squandered ne'er a copper. He too bewailed his faults with penance sore, Ay, and his wretched luck bemoaned a great deal more.

_Margaret_. Alas! that mortals so unhappy prove! I surely will for him pray many a requiem duly.

_Mephistopheles_. You're worthy of a spouse this moment; truly You are a child a man might love.

_Margaret_. It's not yet time for that, ah no!

_Mephistopheles_. If not a husband, say, meanwhile a beau. It is a choice and heavenly blessing, Such a dear thing to one's bosom pressing.

_Margaret_. With us the custom is not so.

_Mephistopheles_. Custom or not! It happens, though.

_Martha_. Tell on!

_Mephistopheles_. I slood beside his bed, as he lay dying, Better than dung it was somewhat,-- Half-rotten straw; but then, he died as Christian ought, And found an unpaid score, on Heaven's account-book lying. "How must I hate myself," he cried, "inhuman! So to forsake my business and my woman! Oh! the remembrance murders me! Would she might still forgive me this side heaven!"

_Martha_ [_weeping_]. The dear good man! he has been long forgiven.

_Mephistopheles_. "But God knows, I was less to blame than she."

_Martha_. A lie! And at death's door! abominable!

_Mephistopheles_. If I to judge of men half-way am able, He surely fibbed while passing hence. "Ways to kill time, (he said)--be sure, I did not need them; First to get children--and then bread to feed them, And bread, too, in the widest sense, And even to eat my bit in peace could not be thought on."

_Martha_. Has he all faithfulness, all love, so far forgotten, The drudgery by day and night!

_Mephistopheles_. Not so, he thought of you with all his might. He said: "When I from Malta went away, For wife and children my warm prayers ascended; And Heaven so far our cause befriended, Our ship a Turkish cruiser took one day, Which for the mighty Sultan bore a treasure. Then valor got its well-earned pay, And I too, who received but my just measure, A goodly portion bore away."

_Martha_. How? Where? And he has left it somewhere buried?

_Mephistopheles_. Who knows which way by the four winds 'twas carried? He chanced to take a pretty damsel's eye, As, a strange sailor, he through Naples jaunted; All that she did for him so tenderly, E'en to his blessed end the poor man haunted.

_Martha_. The scamp! his children thus to plunder! And could not all his troubles sore Arrest his vile career, I wonder?

_Mephistopheles_. But mark! his death wipes off the score. Were I in your place now, good lady; One year I'd mourn him piously And look about, meanwhiles, for a new flame already.

_Martha_. Ah, God! another such as he I may not find with ease on this side heaven! Few such kind fools as this dear spouse of mine. Only to roving he was too much given, And foreign women and foreign wine, And that accursed game of dice.

_Mephistopheles_. Mere trifles these; you need not heed 'em, If he, on his part, not o'er-nice, Winked at, in you, an occasional freedom. I swear, on that condition, too, I would, myself, 'change rings with you!

_Martha_. The gentleman is pleased to jest now!

_Mephistopheles [aside_]. I see it's now high time I stirred! She'd take the very devil at his word. [_To_ MARGERY.] How is it with your heart, my best, now?

_Margaret_. What means the gentleman?

_Mephistopheles. [aside_]. Thou innocent young heart! [_Aloud_.] Ladies, farewell!

_Margaret_. Farewell!

_Martha_. But quick, before we part!-- I'd like some witness, vouching truly Where, how and when my love died and was buried duly. I've always paid to order great attention, Would of his death read some newspaper mention.

_Mephistopheles_. Ay, my dear lady, in the mouths of two Good witnesses each word is true; I've a friend, a fine fellow, who, when you desire, Will render on oath what you require. I'll bring him here.

_Martha_. O pray, sir, do!

_Mephistopheles_. And this young lady 'll be there too? Fine boy! has travelled everywhere, And all politeness to the fair.

_Margaret_. Before him shame my face must cover.

_Mephistopheles_. Before no king the wide world over!

_Martha_. Behind the house, in my garden, at leisure, We'll wait this eve the gentlemen's pleasure.

STREET.

FAUST. MEPHISTOPHELES.

_Faust_. How now? What progress? Will 't come right?

_Mephistopheles_. Ha, bravo? So you're all on fire? Full soon you'll see whom you desire. In neighbor Martha's grounds we are to meet tonight. That woman's one of nature's picking For pandering and gipsy-tricking!

_Faust_. So far, so good!

_Mephistopheles_. But one thing we must do.

_Faust_. Well, one good turn deserves another, true.

_Mephistopheles_. We simply make a solemn deposition That her lord's bones are laid in good condition In holy ground at Padua, hid from view.

_Faust_. That's wise! But then we first must make the journey thither?

_Mephistopheles. Sancta simplicitas_! no need of such to-do; Just swear, and ask not why or whether.

_Faust_. If that's the best you have, the plan's not worth a feather.

_Mephistopheles_. O holy man! now that's just you! In all thy life hast never, to this hour, To give false witness taken pains? Have you of God, the world, and all that it contains, Of man, and all that stirs within his heart and brains, Not given definitions with great power, Unscrupulous breast, unblushing brow? And if you search the matter clearly, Knew you as much thereof, to speak sincerely, As of Herr Schwerdtlein's death? Confess it now!

_Faust_. Thou always wast a sophist and a liar.

_Mephistopheles_. Ay, if one did not look a little nigher. For will you not, in honor, to-morrow Befool poor Margery to her sorrow, And all the oaths of true love borrow?

_Faust_. And from the heart, too.

_Mephistopheles_. Well and fair! Then there'll be talk of truth unending, Of love o'ermastering, all transcending-- Will every word be heart-born there?

_Faust_. Enough! It will!--If, for the passion That fills and thrills my being's frame, I find no name, no fit expression, Then, through the world, with all my senses, ranging, Seek what most strongly speaks the unchanging. And call this glow, within me burning, Infinite--endless--endless yearning, Is that a devilish lying game?

_Mephistopheles_. I'm right, nathless!

_Faust_. Now, hark to me-- This once, I pray, and spare my lungs, old fellow-- Whoever _will_ be right, and has a tongue to bellow, Is sure to be. But come, enough of swaggering, let's be quit, For thou art right, because I must submit.

GARDEN.

MARGARET _on_ FAUST'S _arm_. MARTHA _with_ MEPHISTOPHELES.
[_Promenading up and down_.]

_Margaret_. The gentleman but makes me more confused With all his condescending goodness. Men who have travelled wide are used To bear with much from dread of rudeness; I know too well, a man of so much mind In my poor talk can little pleasure find.

_Faust_. One look from thee, one word, delights me more Than this world's wisdom o'er and o'er. [_Kisses her hand_.]

_Margaret_. Don't take that trouble, sir! How could you bear to kiss it? A hand so ugly, coarse, and rough! How much I've had to do! must I confess it-- Mother is more than close enough. [_They pass on_.]

_Martha_. And you, sir, are you always travelling so?

_Mephistopheles_. Alas, that business forces us to do it! With what regret from many a place we go, Though tenderest bonds may bind us to it!

_Martha_. 'Twill do in youth's tumultuous maze To wander round the world, a careless rover; But soon will come the evil days, And then, a lone dry stick, on the grave's brink to hover, For that nobody ever prays.

_Mephistopheles_. The distant prospect shakes my reason.

_Martha_. Then, worthy sir, bethink yourself in season.
[_They pass on_.]

_Margaret_. Yes, out of sight and out of mind! Politeness you find no hard matter; But you have friends in plenty, better Than I, more sensible, more refined.

_Faust_. Dear girl, what one calls sensible on earth, Is often vanity and nonsense.

_Margaret_. How?

_Faust_. Ah, that the pure and simple never know Aught of themselves and all their holy worth! That meekness, lowliness, the highest measure Of gifts by nature lavished, full and free--

_Margaret_. One little moment, only, think of me, I shall to think of you have ample time and leisure.

_Faust_. You're, may be, much alone?

_Margaret_. Our household is but small, I own, And yet needs care, if truth were known. We have no maid; so I attend to cooking, sweeping, Knit, sew, do every thing, in fact; And mother, in all branches of housekeeping, Is so exact! Not that she need be tied so very closely down; We might stand higher than some others, rather; A nice estate was left us by my father, A house and garden not far out of town. Yet, after all, my life runs pretty quiet; My brother is a soldier, My little sister's dead; With the dear child indeed a wearing life I led; And yet with all its plagues again would gladly try it, The child was such a pet.

_Faust_. An angel, if like thee!

_Margaret_. I reared her and she heartily loved me. She and my father never saw each other, He died before her birth, and mother Was given up, so low she lay, But me, by slow degrees, recovered, day by day. Of course she now, long time so feeble, To nurse the poor little worm was unable, And so I reared it all alone, With milk and water; 'twas my own. Upon my bosom all day long It smiled and sprawled and so grew strong.

_Faust_. Ah! thou hast truly known joy's fairest flower.

_Margaret_. But no less truly many a heavy hour. The wee thing's cradle stood at night Close to my bed; did the least thing awake her, My sleep took flight; 'Twas now to nurse her, now in bed to take her, Then, if she was not still, to rise, Walk up and down the room, and dance away her cries, And at the wash-tub stand, when morning streaked the skies; Then came the marketing and kitchen-tending, Day in, day out, work never-ending. One cannot always, sir, good temper keep; But then it sweetens food and sweetens sleep. [_They pass on_.]

_Martha_. But the poor women suffer, you must own: A bachelor is hard of reformation.

_Mephistopheles_. Madam, it rests with such as you, alone, To help me mend my situation.

_Martha_. Speak plainly, sir, has none your fancy taken? Has none made out a tender flame to waken?

_Mephistopheles_. The proverb says: A man's own hearth, And a brave wife, all gold and pearls are worth.

_Martha_. I mean, has ne'er your heart been smitten slightly?

_Mephistopheles_. I have, on every hand, been entertained politely.

_Martha_. Have you not felt, I mean, a serious intention?

_Mephistopheles_. Jesting with women, that's a thing one ne'er should mention.

_Martha_. Ah, you misunderstand!

_Mephistopheles_. It grieves me that I should! But this I understand--that you are good. [_They pass on_.]

_Faust_. So then, my little angel recognized me, As I came through the garden gate?

_Margaret_. Did not my downcast eyes show you surprised me?

_Faust_. And thou forgav'st that liberty, of late? That impudence of mine, so daring, As thou wast home from church repairing?

_Margaret_. I was confused, the like was new to me; No one could say a word to my dishonor. Ah, thought I, has he, haply, in thy manner Seen any boldness--impropriety? It seemed as if the feeling seized him, That he might treat this girl just as it pleased him. Let me confess! I knew not from what cause, Some flight relentings here began to threaten danger; I know, right angry with myself I was, That I could not be angrier with the stranger.

_Faust_. Sweet darling!

_Margaret_. Let me once!

[_She plucks a china-aster and picks off the leaves one after another_.]

_Faust_. What's that for? A bouquet?

_Margaret_. No, just for sport.

_Faust_. How?

_Margaret_. Go! you'll laugh at me; away!
[_She picks and murmurs to herself_.]

_Faust_. What murmurest thou?

_Margaret [half aloud_]. He loves me--loves me not.

_Faust_. Sweet face! from heaven that look was caught!

_Margaret [goes on_]. Loves me--not--loves me--not-- [_picking off the last leaf with tender joy_] He loves me!

_Faust_. Yes, my child! And be this floral word An oracle to thee. He loves thee! Knowest thou all it mean? He loves thee! [_Clasping both her hands_.]

_Margaret_. What thrill is this!

_Faust_. O, shudder not! This look of mine. This pressure of the hand shall tell thee What cannot be expressed: Give thyself up at once and feel a rapture, An ecstasy never to end! Never!--It's end were nothing but blank despair. No, unending! unending!

[MARGARET _presses his hands, extricates herself, and runs away.
He stands a moment in thought, then follows her_].

_Martha [coming_]. The night falls fast.

_Mephistopheles_. Ay, and we must away.

_Martha_. If it were not for one vexation, I would insist upon your longer stay. Nobody seems to have no occupation, No care nor labor, Except to play the spy upon his neighbor; And one becomes town-talk, do whatsoe'er they may. But where's our pair of doves?

_Mephistopheles_. Flown up the alley yonder. Light summer-birds!

_Martha_. He seems attached to her.

_Mephistopheles_. No wonder. And she to him. So goes the world, they say.

A SUMMER-HOUSE.

MARGARET [_darts in, hides behind the door, presses the tip of
her finger to her lips, and peeps through the crack_].

_Margaret_. He comes!

_Enter_ FAUST.

_Faust_. Ah rogue, how sly thou art! I've caught thee! [_Kisses her_.]

_Margaret [embracing him and returning the kiss_]. Dear good man! I love thee from my heart!

[MEPHISTOPHELES _knocks_.]

_Faust [stamping_]. Who's there?

_Mephistopheles_. A friend!

_Faust_. A beast!

_Mephistopheles_. Time flies, I don't offend you?

_Martha [entering_]. Yes, sir, 'tis growing late.

_Faust_. May I not now attend you?

_Margaret_. Mother would--Fare thee well!

_Faust_. And must I leave thee then? Farewell!

_Martha_. Adé!

_Margaret_. Till, soon, we meet again!

[_Exeunt_ FAUST _and_ MEPHISTOPHELES.]

_Margaret_. Good heavens! what such a man's one brain Can in itself alone contain! I blush my rudeness to confess, And answer all he says with yes. Am a poor, ignorant child, don't see What he can possibly find in me.

[_Exit_.]

WOODS AND CAVERN.

_Faust_ [_alone_]. Spirit sublime, thou gav'st me, gav'st me all For which I prayed. Thou didst not lift in vain Thy face upon me in a flame of fire. Gav'st me majestic nature for a realm, The power to feel, enjoy her. Not alone A freezing, formal visit didst thou grant; Deep down into her breast invitedst me To look, as if she were a bosom-friend. The series of animated things Thou bidst pass by me, teaching me to know My brothers in the waters, woods, and air. And when the storm-swept forest creaks and groans, The giant pine-tree crashes, rending off The neighboring boughs and limbs, and with deep roar The thundering mountain echoes to its fall, To a safe cavern then thou leadest me, Showst me myself; and my own bosom's deep Mysterious wonders open on my view. And when before my sight the moon comes up With soft effulgence; from the walls of rock, From the damp thicket, slowly float around The silvery shadows of a world gone by, And temper meditation's sterner joy. O! nothing perfect is vouchsafed to man: I feel it now! Attendant on this bliss, Which brings me ever nearer to the Gods, Thou gav'st me the companion, whom I now No more can spare, though cold and insolent; He makes me hate, despise myself, and turns Thy gifts to nothing with a word--a breath. He kindles up a wild-fire in my breast, Of restless longing for that lovely form. Thus from desire I hurry to enjoyment, And in enjoyment languish for desire.

_Enter_ MEPHISTOPHELES.

_Mephistopheles_. Will not this life have tired you by and bye? I wonder it so long delights you? 'Tis well enough for once the thing to try; Then off to where a new invites you!

_Faust_. Would thou hadst something else to do, That thus to spoil my joy thou burnest.

_Mephistopheles_. Well! well! I'll leave thee, gladly too!-- Thou dar'st not tell me that in earnest! 'Twere no great loss, a fellow such as you, So crazy, snappish, and uncivil. One has, all day, his hands full, and more too; To worm out from him what he'd have one do, Or not do, puzzles e'en the very devil.

_Faust_. Now, that I like! That's just the tone! Wants thanks for boring me till I'm half dead!

_Mephistopheles_. Poor son of earth, if left alone, What sort of life wouldst thou have led? How oft, by methods all my own, I've chased the cobweb fancies from thy head! And but for me, to parts unknown Thou from this earth hadst long since fled. What dost thou here through cave and crevice groping? Why like a hornèd owl sit moping? And why from dripping stone, damp moss, and rotten wood Here, like a toad, suck in thy food? Delicious pastime! Ah, I see, Somewhat of Doctor sticks to thee.

_Faust_. What new life-power it gives me, canst thou guess-- This conversation with the wilderness? Ay, couldst thou dream how sweet the employment, Thou wouldst be devil enough to grudge me my enjoyment.

_Mephistopheles_. Ay, joy from super-earthly fountains! By night and day to lie upon the mountains, To clasp in ecstasy both earth and heaven, Swelled to a deity by fancy's leaven, Pierce, like a nervous thrill, earth's very marrow, Feel the whole six days' work for thee too narrow, To enjoy, I know not what, in blest elation, Then with thy lavish love o'erflow the whole creation. Below thy sight the mortal cast, And to the glorious vision give at last-- [_with a gesture_] I must not say what termination!

_Faust_. Shame on thee!

_Mephistopheles_. This displeases thee; well, surely, Thou hast a right to say "for shame" demurely. One must not mention that to chaste ears--never, Which chaste hearts cannot do without, however. And, in one word, I grudge you not the pleasure Of lying to yourself in moderate measure; But 'twill not hold out long, I know; Already thou art fast recoiling, And soon, at this rate, wilt be boiling With madness or despair and woe. Enough of this! Thy sweetheart sits there lonely, And all to her is close and drear. Her thoughts are on thy image only, She holds thee, past all utterance, dear. At first thy passion came bounding and rushing Like a brooklet o'erflowing with melted snow and rain; Into her heart thou hast poured it gushing: And now thy brooklet's dry again. Methinks, thy woodland throne resigning, 'Twould better suit so great a lord The poor young monkey to reward For all the love with which she's pining. She finds the time dismally long; Stands at the window, sees the clouds on high Over the old town-wall go by. "Were I a little bird!"[26] so runneth her song All the day, half the night long. At times she'll be laughing, seldom smile, At times wept-out she'll seem, Then again tranquil, you'd deem,-- Lovesick all the while.

_Faust_. Viper! Viper!

_Mephistopheles_ [_aside_]. Ay! and the prey grows riper!

_Faust_. Reprobate! take thee far behind me! No more that lovely woman name! Bid not desire for her sweet person flame Through each half-maddened sense, again to blind me!

_Mephistopheles_. What then's to do? She fancies thou hast flown, And more than half she's right, I own.