University of Virginia Library

ACT III.

Nuremberg. Street, by Church.
Bessy, Ida, Alice, and Catherine at fountain.
Bessy.
And you've not heard of it?

Ida.
No, no, indeed.

Bessy.
You may believe it every word—
She's flung herself away at last.

Ida.
What, Barbara?

Bessy.
Aye, Barbara.

Ida.
I cannot think it.

Bessy.
'Tis true enough.
Why all the town begins to talk of it.

Enter Margaret.
Girls.
Here's Margaret.

Bessy.
So, Valentine will soon be back again.
Well, he should stay at home hereafter.
Have you heard any news of Barbara lately?

Mar.
No, not a word.

Bessy.
We were just talking of her pretty doings.
She has tripped at last. I thought it would be so.

Mar.
What mean you?
[Bessy whispers in her ear.
Ah! alas! alas!

Bessy.
Oh, she's herself to blame—
Such airs and graces! Going with him everywhere—
To village fairs and dances. Serves her right.
She took his vows forsooth, and kept his presents,
Parading at his side, kissing and courting,
And looking down with pride upon her neighbours.

Mar.
Poor girl! poor girl! I pity her.

Bessy.
Pity her! Methinks you haven't much to do, then.
When we were cooped within and kept at work,
There was she ever sporting with her lover.
The time, oh, never was too long for them.
Well, well, she'll rue it now—
Now comes the stool and white sheet of repentance.

Mar.
But surely he will wed her.

Bessy.
Will he? Wed her? More fool he.
A fine young fellow—can have lots of choice.
Besides, he's off to other fields.

Mar.
Ah! that's not fair.

Bessy.
Fair! it will go ill with her if he come back.
Why, they would tear her garland from her,
And scatter chaff before her door.

Ida.
Hush, hush, be quiet. She loved Barbara,
Grief for her mother's death, is load enough to bear.

[Distant march.
Bessy.
Hark! hark! the drums! Our sweethearts back.

Girls.
I wonder has Fritz come home?—And
Hans?—And Peter? &c., &c.

[Exeunt.
Mar.
How scornful once was I, and how severe
When some poor maiden fell. How self-content
In my own virtue. Now, alas! I am
What I despised—a living sin.
God knows! he seemed so good, and dear, so true.
[Places flowers before a shrined image of the Virgin. Night coming on.
Oh, holy maiden! Thou who knowest sorrow,
Thou through whose anguished heart the sword hath pierced,
Incline thy gracious countenance to me.
My misery is past my tongue to tell.
Thou knowest—thou alone—why sinks within
My trembling heart; how terror ever follows
My footsteps as my shadow, haunting me;
How that I weep the night out sleeplessly.
These flowers I bring are watered by my tears.
Oh, heal this bleeding heart—oh, rescue me
From death and shame! Mother of many sorrows!
Have pity, oh, have pity—turn to me!

[Returns to house. Citizens, soldiers, &c., cross.
Enter Valentine.
Val.
Home! home again!
Ah me! ah me!
At drinking bouts, when my companions boasted
Of this lass, and of that, I fixed mine elbow
Upon the table, and I stroked my beard;
Then, with a smile, and the full glass in hand,
Each to their taste, said I—but show me her
Is fit to tie my sister Margaret's shoe.
Then, what a clinking! pride of all her sex,
She took the prize; but now—
Now, every rascal thinks he has a right
To sneer, and wink, and, worst of all, to pity.
[Mephistopheles creeps across.
So, like a bankrupt, I must sit and wince, for now,
A pest on it! I cannot call them liars.
What is this fellow creeping towards me here?
If it be he,
I'll stretch him dead beneath his mistress' window.

[He retires.
Enter Faust.
Faust.
Ever, when I wended to this house,
I've seen her little lamp set up to greet me,
But now the window's black, and in my heart
I feel a blackness too.

Re-enter Mephistopheles.
Mephis.
And I feel like a tom-cat on the tiles
That crawls on tiptoe round the chimney-pots.
To-morrow is the sabbath of the witches;
Walpurgis-night upon the Brocken top.
I'll introduce you there—'twill cheer you up.

Faust.
They say her mother's dead.

Mephis.
There's one old lady less upon the census!

Faust
[Suddenly].
What was that phial which you gave to make her mother sleep?

Mephis.
Eh? only a few drops to take her gently off.

Faust.
What has befallen her?

Mephis.
Oh, she has only lost her character.

Faust.
Ah! in what toils of misery I'm entangled.
Her mother murder'd, murder'd by me!

Mephis.
Now that the stars are bright, and the sky clear,
I'll sing a serenade to my old sweetheart;
Your pretty Margaret's window fronts the garden.

[Makes frightful sound on lute.
Faust.
Cease, cease that hideous noise.

[Goes to back of house.
Mephis.
Hideous! Why, 'tis divine!

[Valentine comes forward.
Val.
What's this infernal bray, old ratcatcher?

[Smashes the lute.
Mephis.
Thou inharmonious bumpkin,
Hast thou no music in thy composition?

Val.
I am a soldier.
I only know what wounds a soldier's honour,
And how to slit a foul seducer's throat.

Faust.
The door is fast.

Val.
Thou coward, draw!

Mephis.
Draw what?—A cup of ale?—

Faust.
I know no cause of quarrel, sir, with you!

Mephis.
If you affect the old dame, don't be jealous.

Val.
[Furiously to Faust].
Wilt wait until I strike thee?

Mephis.
Out with your goose-quill, Doctor;
Keep by me.

Faust.
I want no aid.

Val.
Villains, have at you.

[They draw.
Mephis.
Lunge like fury, Doctor, I will parry.

Val.
Then parry that.

Mephis.
Why not?

Val.
That too.

Mephis.
Just so.

Val.
And that, and that, and that.

Mephis.
With pleasure.

Val.
I think the Devil fights against me.—
My right hand is benumbed.

Mephis.
Thrust home.

Val.
O God!

Mephis.
Ha, ha!

Faust.
This is murder!

Martha
[At window].
Help! help! help here!

[Ida and Alice have seen part of fight, and have hurried off to give alarm.
Mephis.
The old one yelps.
Show them your heels.

Faust.
I will not go!

Mephis.
Fool! do'st know who 'tis? Look in his face.

Faust
[Alarmed].
Whose face?

Mephis.
Whose? her brother's.

Faust.
Her brother! God!

Mephis.
The hue and cry is up; come, don't stand gaping there.

[Exeunt.
Enter Ida with Erster, Vierter, and People.
Vierter.
Ah! here lies one.

Erster.
A desperate wound; he 'll bleed to death.
Run for the guard. Poor lad, poor lad!

Vierter.
This is a murder!

Soldier.
Why, let me look.
'Tis Valentine, our comrade Valentine.

People.
Valentine!

Soldier.
How is it, comrade. Here, drink this.

Vierter.
Poor Valentine! He is but now come home.

Enter Altmayer and People at various entrances.
Altmayer.
Why, what's the matter here?

Vierter.
A poor lad just come from the wars—
Here stabbed to death. The soldier Valentine!

Altmayer.
What, Valentine! and by his mother's door!

Enter from their houses Margaret and Martha.
Martha.
Oh, my good neighbours, what's the matter?

Mar.
Who is it that lies here?

Erster.
Your brother!

Mar.
My brother! Ah, God help—it cannot— [Wildly]
Who—
[Bends, and looks close at the face. He pushes her roughly off. She totters and hides her face on Martha's shoulder.
Oh, he will curse me!

Val.
I'm dying, but of that I reck not now,
Come hither, close, to me—I'd speak with you.

Mar.
He must not die! Oh, let me staunch the blood.

Val.
Let be, let be! [To Martha]
stand thou away from me;
To thee I speak. Margaret, thou art but young,
And hast not wit enough to push thy trade,
For you're a wanton—be a bold one, then.

Mar.
Hush, brother! Oh, God! what is't you say?

Val.
Best leave God's name out of the comedy;
What's done, alas! can't be undone, my girl.
And now you enter on your new career,
And then will flock the flies around the honey!

Mar.
Spare me! your dreadful words will kill me!

Val.
The time will come
When honest folk will turn from you in horror,
And from your tainted presence shrink away.
No more in snowy dress before the altar
You'll take your stand! No more with maiden pride,
In neat lace collar, lead the village dance!
But 'neath some shameless roof hide with your kind.

Martha.
Commend your soul to God, nor slander folk
With your last breath.

Val.
Vile procuress, would I could gripe thy neck,
And crush thy wither'd body! For that deed
I might have absolution for my sins.

Mar.
Brother, although thy answer strike me dead,
Tell me, who dealt thy wound?

Val.
Thy lover!

[Dies.
Mar.
Ah! O, God!

[Margaret flings up her arms, and falls upon him with a cry.
Martha.
Lift him within the house.
Come, Margaret, love!

Mar.
Leave me, leave me—to think and pray.

[Crowd disperse. Margaret leans against the wall of Martha's house, staring at the ground.
Enter Bessy and Catherine. They are told in dumb show what has happened.
Alice.
Killed by her lover.

Bessy.
Ah, now you see that she was guilty;
Her brother would have slain him for his crime.

Alice
[To Mar.].
You've got his blood upon you, 'twas your fault.

Catherine.
How harden'd she appears; she drops her eyes,
And dare not look at us.

Bessy.
Come, we'll go pray
For your poor brother's soul, killed by your gentleman.

[They pass by, staring insultingly. Ida returns slowly, kisses Margaret, and exits into chapel. Margaret staggers to porch.
Mar.
[At foot of Virgin and Child.]
Oh, thou, who borest pangs the bitterest,
Whose heart was pierced, look down on me with pity!

[Enters church.
Enter Faust and Mephistopheles.
Faust.
I tell thee, manhood, honour, drag me back!
A misery that sickens and appals me,
Thou canst regard with a complacent grin.
Ah! she's there! she's there!

Mephis.
You shall not enter!

[Seizing him.
Faust.
Unhand me, fiend!

[Mephis thrusts him off, with the following spell.
Spell upon thy brain I cast,
Fade all memory of the past;
Magic mist I spread around,
Senseless thou to sight or sound.
Sleep secure at my command
Till thou wake in witches' land.
[A vapour rises and Faust disappears.
Now weave the woof of ill begun;
Till this woman's soul be won.

[Skirts along the house; shrugging his shoulders at the blood.
Invisible I'll mingle in her prayers,
And tempt her to a future mortal sin.

[Enters church.
Margaret kneeling, Mephistopheles behind her.
Mephis.
Margaret, how changed art thou since to the altar
Thou cam'st a sinless child. How canst thou pray?
A dying brother's curse is in thine ear!

Mar.
Oh, who but thou canst know my agony?
I have no refuge now but thee!

[To Virgin.
Chorus
with organ.
Dies iræ, dies illa,
Solvet sœclum in favilla.

Mephis.
Margaret, dost pray for mercy
On thy poor mother's soul to torments gone?

Mar.
Sorrow and shame encircle me like fire.
Within my breast my guilt doth cry aloud.
Help, mother of the piercéd heart! Oh, save me
From that I fear, the shadow that approaches.

Chorus.
Judex ergo cum sedebit,
Quidquid latet adparebit,
Nil inultum remanebit.

Mephis.
What secret crime hides in thy once pure bosom?
What stirs and quickens 'neath thy trembling heart?
Destroy all trace of guilt; bury it—hide it—
Or let the rapid river bear it unto the sea.

Mar.
The massy pillars seem to totter over me!
The vaulted arches crush me!

Mephis.
Hast thou not killed thy mother!
Scruple not to kill thy babe!

[Margaret shrieks and falls.
Chorus.
Quid sum miser tunc dicturus,
Quem patronem rogaturus,
Cum vix justus sit securus.

[Darkness. Lonely street. Mephistopheles seen stealing out of the church.