University of Virginia Library

ACT I.

Scene I.

—Nuremberg. Margaret's Chamber. Twilight.
Enter Mephistopheles and Faust.
Mephis.
Come in, tread softly; this is the dove's nest.

Faust.
Leave me.

Mephis.
I will.
None shall disturb thy saintly vigil.
My spell is on the house till I come back;
[Looking round the room]
Humph!
It is not every girl keeps things so neat.

[Exit.
Faust.
Sweet holy twilight, welcome! 'Tis the shrine
And sanctuary of spotless girlhood.
What peace and order!
What calm content reigns all around her chamber!
In this neat poverty there is a wealth,
In this small room, a maiden majesty!
Dear hand, which leaves its charm on these dull things,
And lends this lowly home the light of heaven.

Enter Mephistopheles.
Mephis.
Quick, quick, she's coming to the door.

Faust.
Aye, hence, and never more will I return!

Mephis.
Why, what a virtuous outburst!—
Here is the casket which I've brought.

Faust.
Brought what?

Mephis.
Some toasted cheese to catch a little mouse.
Quick, place it in the trap—pale pearls, bright diamonds.
I've been to fetch 'em—from—elsewhere.

Faust.
I know not. Shall I?

Mephis.
Oh, shall you? Would you keep the trash yourself?
I hope you are not growing avaricious!

[Puts casket in press.
Faust.
She's here!

Mephis.
Come, come away. Aye, child is child, and play is play.

[Exeunt.
Enter Margaret with lamp.
Mar.
It seems so close, so sultry here, yet in the garden
The air was chilly. [Opens window.]
I feel strange and nervous.
'Tis mine own chamber—what should frighten me?
[Goes to a little statue of Virgin, and crosses herself.
From all things evil, holy mother, guard me!—
Why do I still keep thinking, thinking, thinking?
He was so handsome, manly, confident.
His boldness had a charm, a grace in it,
That proved distinction.
But when I checked him, in an angry tone,
How he submitted, with a silent bow,
And with an air respectful and yet sad.
I might have answered him with gentleness,
And so have spared myself from this regret.
He is a stranger—we'll not meet again.
Heigh ho! I know not why, but I feel sad.
[Singing.
[Opens the press to put away things, and discovers the casket.
What's here! An inlaid casket! I'm sure I locked the press.
It must be fancy. Nay! a beauteous casket:
I feel it, it is real!
Why, how could it come here?
Sure such a shell must hide some lovely kernel;
And see! a ribbon, and a little key.
I'm trembling at the thought of opening it.
Yet I must take a peep. Would that be wrong?
If I do not I shall die of curiosity.
Heavens, what a blaze!
Oh!—oh!—never, never have I seen trinkets and jewels like to these!
[Mephistopheles peeps in.
They are quite wonderful!
Those pearls of moonlight, and those starry diamonds!
I wonder how this chain would look on me.

Mephis
[Aside].
She takes the bait—all women are alike!

Mar.
I almost feel afraid to touch it!
Oh, beautiful! how beautiful!
The earrings, too! oh, if they were but mine!
Whose can they be? they'd grace a duchess or a queen.
How do I look; I wonder?

Mephis
[Aside].
Bewitching! The best card in all my hand.

[Exit.
Mar.
How strange they make one!
They give one quite a different air.
A thought! perhaps 'twas he—
That noble he—who left them here!
I feel my head half wild with pride and pleasure.
No, no, he cannot think of a poor girl like me!
I wonder shall we ever meet again?
I wonder will my happy simple life
Ever grow dreamful and disturbed?

Scene 2.

—Nuremberg. The City Wall.
Enter Faust.
Faust.
But once I saw her, 'twas a passing glimpse,
And yet the whole infection of her beauty
Hath passed into my blood, and left a fever.
Are our emotions but the toy and sport
Of every change of scene and waft of air?

Enter Mephistopheles.
Mephis.
Now by the purgatorial flames! By Hell!
I would I could invent some feller curse!

Faust.
Why, what's the matter?

Mephis.
If I were not the Devil, I would cry,
“The Devil take me, if I suffer it!”

Faust.
What is the cause of this Satanic anger?

Mephis.
A weasel monk has come and sucked the eggs.
The jewels that I've found for Margaret
He hath empocketed for Mother Church,
A morsel for her most insatiate maw.

Faust.
What do you mean?

Mephis.
Her mother found poor Margaret in her finery;
(And how she got an inkling, I can't tell,
The nose that woman hath is past belief,)
And finding something cursed in the trinkets,
She straight devotes them unto Mother Church.
“She,” quoth the monk, “hath a good stomach,
She can eat up all, and never, never over-eat herself.”

Faust.
And Margaret?

Mephis.
Well—she didn't look religious.
She wept awhile, and to the monk was deaf;
Who praised her for her meek self sacrifice.
And now she's sighing, thinking of the giver,
And wond'ring if she'll ever see him more.

Faust.
Then bring me to her.

Mephis.
I'll watch that greedy monk—a fat-paunch'd monk.

Faust.
Your plan?

Mephis.
A very simple one.
I go at once to visit old dame Schwerdtlein,
The confidential neighbour of our Margaret.
This eve the two will have a pleasant gossip
Touching the casket, and the handsome stranger,
When I'll drop in—a messenger from far,
To bring the smug grass-widow cheerful news.
And then to gain a footing in the house,
Say that her husband died in Padua.

Faust.
And then—

Mephis.
Then slyly add, I am a bachelor,
And gain the gentle widow's confidence.
Good soul, she'll need another witness, though.

Faust.
What witness?

Mephis.
You.

Faust.
I cannot go to Padua.

Mephis.
Sancta simplicitas! there is no need.
Can you not say you saw the corpse? that's all.

Faust.
Then I refuse!

Mephis.
O holy man, that would outwit the devil!
Is it the first time that the learned reverend
Hath sworn to what he knew could not be true?
Have you not taught theology and science,
Matters, in truth, you knew as little of,
As now you do, of poor old Schwerdtlein's death?

Faust.
But threadbare sophistry! I will not meet her.

Mephis.
Who forces thee? Then do not meet her.
Was I not with your worship's strict command,
To get you opportunity?—Ah well!
Let's hence, for there be other sirens in the sea.
Come, doctor, flee temptation. Ah—you linger?

Faust.
[Aside.]
How he doth cast a hellish light
On what a moment since seemed sweet as flowers!
(Aloud)
Go on.

Mephis.
Well, then, I pay my court to mistress Martha,
A jaunty, thriving suitor, fallen in years;
(No vows, no honeyed speech, no upturned eyes,
Nothing, God knows, to spoil the widow's peace,)
And in a trice his worship will appear,
The wolf—the rake—to turn the lambkin's head,
And take his fill of love, and—perjury.

Faust
(aside).
To see her face—to feel its gaze on me—
To hear her voice—her voice!
(Aloud)
Come, lead me to her—let me blindly meet her.

[Exit.
Mephis.
The profligate! he'd keep behind the mask,
He would sip passion with a parching throat,
And, as he yieldeth, to his tempting heart
He calls me his betrayer.
Alas! poor Satan! how you're daily wronged!
Happy you have a shoulder that can bear it,
Or else in time you'd grow a thing to pity.

[Exit.

Scene 3.

—Nuremberg. Martha's Cottage.
Martha, working.
Martha.
This day, six years ago, my husband left me,
Homeless and penniless, a poor lone woman.
I wish I could cease thinking of him;
Forsooth, he treated me most scurvily;
And not a sign or token has he sent,
To let me know if he be still alive.
I cannot tell if I'm a wife or widow.
I should be happy, could I only find
Certificate of his death and burial;
Should he return, poor man,—the Lord forbid it!—
He'd quickly drink and dice away my chattels.
Enter Margaret.
Ah, Margaret? welcome, welcome, pretty pet!

Mar.
Oh, Martha dear, I have so much to tell you.
See how I tremble,—I can scarcely stand.

Martha.
Sit down, sit down; be calm, and tell me all.

Mar.
Last evening, when I looked within my press,
What think you that I found?

Martha.
A love-letter.

Mar.
A lovely casket filled with costly gems!

Martha.
From that noble gentleman you spoke of.
I said that he was rich!

Mar.
You think 'twas he? I've dared to think the same.
But, Martha, I have yet to tell the end;
I was in such a silly ecstasy,
I put the jewels on before the glass;
I scarcely knew myself—I sang, I laughed,
When suddenly I heard my mother's voice.
I nearly fainted, not a word I spake.

Martha.
Ah! then your mother took them; do not fret,
Where they came from there are lots more behind.

Mar.
But only hear. To-day I found
Another box, of ebon wood, just where the other lay—

Martha.
Another box?

Mar.
Brimful of jewels, richer than the first.

Martha.
You must not let your mother know of this,
Or she will take them all.

Mar.
[Showing jewels.]
Look here, look here!

Martha.
You lucky little creature!

Mar.
And yet I could not go to market, Martha,
Or to church, decked out in gems like

Martha.
Oh, I'll invent something.
You can slip over here from day to day,
And put them on, and wear them one by one;
On holidays, or at a dance, the brooch,
The diamond necklace, or the earrings.

Mar.
How beautiful they are! You think he cares for me?

Martha.
The surest measure that I know of love,
Is by the value of the gift, my pet.

Mar.
[frightened.]
Hark! hark! my mother!

[Knock at door. Martha goes to open it. Mephistopheles peeps in through lattice and enters.
Mephis.
Pardon my coming unceremoniously.
[He steps back respectfully on seeing Margaret, and bows.
It is Dame Martha Schwerdtlein whom I seek.

Martha.
Your servant, sir. You startled me at first.

Mephis.
I have a message for you, but 'twill keep.
I'll come again, when you are more at leisure.
You have, I see, a guest of consequence.

Martha.
The funniest thing I ever knew. I can but laugh.
He takes you for a lady, dear.

Mar.
These jewels are not mine. You mock me, sir.

Mephis.
Ah! brighter gems are yours—your air! your grace!

Martha.
Now, sir, your news; I am all ears—News from abroad?

Mephis.
Precisely, you have guessed it.
Madam, your husband's dead, and sends his love.

Martha.
My husband dead! The faithful creature—my husband dead! Let me die too!

Mar.
Ah! how I pity you! be comforted.

Mephis.
Hear the unhappy story to the end.
You are a widow, madam—
Most charming, independent state in life.

Martha.
Pray tell me how he died, and where, sweet sir?

Mephis.
His wine-swoln body sleeps in Padua,
In all the odour of sobriety,
And in a grave selected well, for cool, and comfortable rest.

Martha.
And have you nothing more to bring me, sir?

Mephis.
I have—a prayer; a message from the sainted dead,
That you provide three hundred masses for him.

Martha.
Three hundred masses! how am I to pay?
What, has he sent me nothing—not a trinket?
Some trifling gift to touch a body's heart.

Mephis.
Well, to his credit, I must tell you, madam,
He parted in a most repentant state;
Much did he sorrow for his wickedness,—
Though his bad luck at dice grieved him much more.

Martha.
Oh, sir! fie, fie!

Mar.
[Aside].
Nay, be more gentle with her,—'twas her husband.

Mephis.
Ah, lovely lady, how compassionate!
[Aside.]
What could I wish you but a gallant husband.

Mar.
I do not think of that; spare me your wish.

Mephis.
Well, till the husband come—some gallant lover—
To fondle, and caress, and call your own.

Mar.
The custom of our country is not so.

Mephis.
Custom or not, it happens, though.

Martha.
Now, sir, I'm calm, go on.

Mephis.
Good madam, I, myself, was by his bed,
And sure he made a very Christian ending.
“I should die happy,” the old sinner cried,
“Could I but know my Martha had forgiven me.”

Martha
[Weeping].
Dear heart—why I forgave him long ago.

Mephis.
“Yet she, God knows,” said he, “was more to blame than I;
Her tongue was wagging, morning, noon, and night.”

Martha.
Oh, what a lie!—and almost in his coffin.
What, did the wretch forget he owed me all?

Mephis.
“Once,” said he, “leaving Malta, I did pray
A blessing on my wife, and heaven rewarded me.
We robbed the Sultan's galley of a treasure,
And I received a handsome share of booty.”

Martha.
What, think you, sir, he buried it?

Mephis.
Buried it? No; his heart was far too sordid.
Strolling through Naples, a most gorgeous damsel
Took pity on his loneliness and pelf,
And spent it for him in a week or two.

Martha.
Wretch! This report kills all my love for him.

Mar.
Sir, sir, you are, indeed, too cruel.

Mephis.
Madam, take my advice as from a friend.
Mourn one chaste year, and meanwhile look about
For a good, well-conditioned second spouse.

Martha.
Alack, alack, such an ungrateful wretch
Gives small encouragement to try again.

Mephis.
Ah! had he known what a fond wife he had!—
Treat me as well, and, madam, I protest
I'd ask you on the moment to change rings.

Martha.
Oh, sir!

Mephis.
Oh, dame! [Aside].
I'd best be off, or she may take the devil at his word.

Mar.
[Aside].
He mocks you, neighbour.

Martha
[Aside].
Nay, nay, I think the gentleman is most polite.

Mephis.
Ladies, farewell.

Martha.
Stay, stay, sir, one word more; I'd like to have some proof—
Some witness or certificate—to show
That my poor man is really dead and buried.

Mephis.
[Aside].
An eye to business.

Martha.
That would comfort me.

Mephis.
Well thought; a witness I expect in town,
A friend of mine, a noble gentleman.

Martha.
Ah! Most important!

Mephis.
I'll bring him here.

Martha.
This evening, pray do.

Mephis.
And this young lady, shall we find her here—
A gay young gallant, a great traveller.

Mar.
I'd be abashed before him, sir.

Mephis.
You, lady? Not before an emperor.

Martha.
The garden then, behind the house—
We shall expect both gentlemen
This evening. Farewell till then.

Mephis.
Ladies, farewell.

Martha.
A courtly gentleman, and so polite.
This evening, pet, you'll not forget?
Give me the jewels, dear; I will take care of them.
Your mother sha'n't have these.

[Exeunt.

Scene 4.

Nuremberg—Martha's Garden.
Faust and Margaret. Mephistopheles and Martha.
Mar.
You put me to the blush.
My simple speech cannot attract a man
Who knows the world so well.
And it must be that thou hast flocks of friends,
Wise, sensible, with whom I can't compare.

Faust.
Thou precious one, in all thy humbleness;
More wise by far thy sweet simplicity.

[Faust kisses her hand.
Mar.
Ah, no, sir, no, how can you kiss it,—
It is so coarse, so hard.

Faust.
One glance from thee, one word delights me more,
Than all the boasted wisdom of the world.

[Exeunt.
Enter Mephistopheles and Martha.
Martha.
And you have been a traveller all your life?

Mephis.
For ever, madam, up and down the world,
Yet all my instincts are domestic, madam.

Martha.
Whilst one is young, I well can understand
A roving life unfetter'd by a family;
But for a sad old homeless bachelor,
Without a soul to nurse, or care for him,
That seems to me a shocking state of things!

Mephis.
I shudder, madam, when I think of it.

Martha.
Why, then be warned in time, before 'tis late.

Mephis.
There is one obstacle that holds me back.

Martha.
And that?

Mephis.
My modesty.

Martha.
Ah, sir, you'll find a woman always ready
To comfort and encourage a shy lover,
And almost make for him his declaration.

Mephis.
Dear madam, you encourage me so kindly.
You have a comfortable little home?

Martha.
And you, no doubt, a handsome income, sir?

Mephis.
Oh, plenty, thank you. We are getting on.

[Exeunt.
Enter Faust and Margaret.
Mar.
A moment wilt thou give to thought of me,
I shall have time enough to think of thee.

Faust.
And art thou much alone?

Mar.
Alone I ever am.
We have a little home and pretty garden
Which father left us when he died;
And so we are not poor.
But mother is so saving and so anxious,
That all the household work must fall on me.
We have no maid—so I am ever knitting,
Sewing and cooking—not that I complain,
But we might live as easy as our neighbours—
Indeed, I have no time except to think.

Faust.
Hast thou no sisters—brothers?

Mar.
I have one brother—he's so fond of me.
He is a soldier.—I had a baby sister,
But she is dead—and now when I remember
The world of sleepless trouble 'twas to me,
I feel how I could welcome twice the pain
To have its dimpled cheek again to kiss,
I loved the darling so.—

Faust.
An angel sweet, if it resembled thee.

Mar.
I reared it from its birth—It seemed to love me,
For 'twas the same as motherless—so ill
Our mother lay. She could not give it suck,
Or tend it—so its precious little life
Was in my hands, half care and half delight.
At night, its cradle stood beside my bed,
And I would wake in fright if it should turn,
Or toss in feverish sleep—I still was anxious,
Even in my dreams.—Sometimes a crying fit
Would seize it—then I needs must start from bed,
And soothing lift the little wailing mite,
And up and down the bedroom, rocking it
Softly within my arms and crooning to it,
Hush it to sleep again. Then with broken rest
I yet must rise when birds begin to chirp,
And be at work—the washtub or the market,
And all the little household cares again;—
You see when one is always on the strain,
Though one be young and strong, it is no wonder
The spirits sometimes sink.

Faust.
When thou art absent I'll yet talk to thee,
And frame thine answers with a still delight.
Ah, you take heart and raise your eyes to me—
The stars beam from those eyelid clouds at last.

[Exeunt.
Enter Mephistopheles and Martha.
Martha.
'Tis hard to change a dry, old bachelor.

Mephis.
I've been a sad scamp, madam, in my time;
And yet folk say “The scamp makes the best husband.”

Martha.
And have you never met a lady, sir—
In confidence—you never had a fancy?

Mephis.
It was my ruin: young and old I fancied.

Martha.
Oh, fye, fye! I wish to say, Have you been ever serious?

Mephis.
With ladies, madam, 'tis not safe to jest.

Martha.
I mean, sir, have you ever had a liking?

Mephis.
The favour shown me everywhere is great.

Martha.
Ah, sir, your heart is good, but you are simple.
I mean, you ought to marry.

Mephis.
What, a widow?

Martha.
Sir!

Mephis.
A widow has one charm—she knows so much.

[Exeunt.
Enter Faust and Margaret.
Mar.
And yet too soon—too soon. I know thee not.

Faust.
Ah! do you doubt me?

Mar.
If you had known me, even for a year,
I'd think, yes, he may love me for myself;
But now—

Faust.
You think, mayhap, because the time is short
Since we have met, that I may partly feign.
The time doth fail, and words are faint and bloodless,
To show thee my bright ecstasy within—
The new-born planet of my endless love!

Mar.
My heart is full—tears come—I know not why.
To-night is like the first day spent in heaven—
All peace, all trust, and yet all wonderment.
I had no warning of this happiness—
The blessed Virgin sent no dream to me—
And now I am so joyed. Dost love me so?

Faust.
Thou art the only light that ever shone
Across my path of life—My first—last idol!

Mar.
Dost love me so, indeed! Stay, I will prove it.

[She plucks a daisy, and begins to pull the petals.
Faust.
What dost thou with the flower?

Mar.
You'll only laugh at me; go—go.

Faust.
What are you murmuring so sweetly there?

Mar.
He loves me—he loves me not.

Faust.
I guess, sweet love!

Mar.
Loves me—loves me not; loves me—loves me not. He loves me!

Faust.
Yes, child, and let this little flower speak,
As if a spirit whisper'd in thine ear—“He loves me.”
Dost know the meaning of those words, “He loves me?”

Mar.
I tremble—let me be silent.

[She suddenly presses his hand convulsively, then exits hurriedly. He stands for a moment in thought, then follows her.
Enter Mephistopheles and Martha.
Martha.
I hope, dear sir, that you are not a flirt?

Mephis.
'Twould be impossible to flirt with you.

Martha.
You could not, having won a lady's love—
Her husband and her parents dead—desert her.

Mephis.
A widow and an orphan, madam, never!

Martha.
Dear man!
When my first husband was betrothed to me—
Well I remember—'twas a night like this—
He closed our bargain with a—you can guess—
Upon the cheek.

Mephis.
What, with his open hand?

Martha.
Nay, saucy one, his mouth.

Mephis.
Hem! Madam, its getting late.

Martha.
Aye, true, I'd ask you to stay longer,
But this is such a place for wicked gossip,
And take what heed you may, whate'er you do
You are certain to get talked about.

Mephis.
Aye, madam, true, 'tis a censorious world.

Martha.
But our young couple, where are they?

Mephis.
They're flown up yonder path, the naughty love-birds.

Martha.
He's very fond of her, it seems.

Mephis.
And she of him, I think—the old story, the old story, madam.
[Exit Martha.
Where will she go to, by and by,
I wonder? I won't have her.

Margaret runs in, and hides behind tree.
Mar.
He's coming!

Faust follows, looking for her.
Faust.
At last! At last I've caught you!

Mar.
[Clasping him].
I love thee! Oh, thou King of all the World!

Mephis.
[Peeping in. Aside.]
That kiss doth seal thee mine!

[Coughs.
Faust
[Starting].
Who's there?

Mephis.
A friend!

Faust
[Mockingly].
A friend!

Mephis.
Thou King of all the World, 'tis time to go.