 | Faust |  |
SCENE III
Scene.—Garden of Margaret's house[Martha enters.
Martha.
[Calling.]
Margaret! Alack! 'tis
a hard fate to have lost a husband! Yet that
might be borne; but to have no certainty of
widowhood—why, 'tis enough to break the heart
of any woman! No man hath a right to die
unless he send home word he is decently
buried. How else should his widow grieve for
him in due fashion, or put away her weeds at
the fitting time? Truth, 'tis a hard world!
Ah! thou art there!
Margaret.
Oh, Dame Martha! Dear
Dame Martha!
Martha.
Why, what ails thee, child?
Margaret.
This morning, as I woke I
found within my press this second casket like
know not what to do!
Martha.
Then I'll tell thee. Say nothing
to thy mother. She would but give them to the
priest, as she did the last.
Margaret.
Look, how beautiful they are!
Martha.
Oh, you're a lucky girl!
Margaret.
And yet I dare not wear them
in the street.
Martha.
Why, then we'll hide them,
and now and then you shall put them on
before the mirror. For the first let that content
you. As time goes we'll choose some holiday
when you may wear, perhaps, a chain or ring—
then something more. Your mother will never
know; or if she should, we'll forge some pretty
tale of how you came by them.
Margaret.
Who could have brought them?
I fear, yet know not why, that I do wrong to
keep them.
Martha.
Tut, tut, child!
[A knock.
Margaret.
Is that my mother, think you?
[Martha peeps through a little grille in the gate.
Martha.
No, 'tis some strange gentleman.
Pray you walk in.
Mephistopheles.
Forgive me, ladies, but
I sought for Dame Martha Schwartlein!
Martha.
I am she, sir. May I enquire
your errand?
Mephistopheles.
[Aside to Martha.]
Nay, that can wait. I see you entertain a lady
of quality. Another time shall serve.
Martha.
Hear you that, Margaret? He
takes thee for a lady!
Margaret.
Nay, sir, I am only a poor
maid. These jewels have deceived thee. They
are not mine.
Mephistopheles.
No, I took no thought
of the jewels. It was rather the look, the
manner, the air, that struck me.
Martha.
And now, sir, your business, if I
may?
Mephistopheles.
I would I had a cheerier
note to sound. Your husband's dead and sends
you loving greeting.
Martha.
Dead! O dear, true heart!
My husband dead! Then I must needs die too!
Margaret.
Courage, dear Martha!
Mephistopheles.
I feared the shock. A
very pitiful case!
Indeed 'tis terrible! What
use is love when death can shatter all! I would
choose to die unwed.
Mephistopheles.
Yet joy follows swiftly
on the heels of woe. That's life!
Martha.
Tell me, I pray you, how he met
his end?
Mephistopheles.
Very prettily, Madame.
He lies in Padua beside St. Antony. A very
cool and comfortable grave in consecrated
ground. A temperate home for one who loved
his glass!
Martha.
Were there no last words?—no
message for his fond and loving wife?
Mephistopheles.
He did command thee
to buy three hundred masses to save his soul.
Martha.
And sent the wherewithal? Good,
generous heart! A very worthy man!
Mephistopheles.
No, Madame, no! He
must have clean forgot it.
Martha.
What, not a trinket even? Was
there no little hoarded fund to leave to his
wife?
Mephistopheles.
True penitence was all
he died possessed of. His cash he had expended
on himself. A very worthy man!
Worthy, forsooth!
Margaret.
Day and night I'll pray for his
soul, dear Martha!
Mephistopheles.
So pitiful a lady should
well deserve a husband of her own.
Margaret.
I dream not yet of that, sir.
Mephistopheles.
Well then, let's say some
gallant to love and cherish. There's nothing
makes life sweeter.
Margaret.
'Tis not our custom here.
Mephistopheles.
And yet it sometimes
happens so, I'm told!
Martha.
Pray you, sir, and at the last?
Mephistopheles.
Ay, he much desired
that all his sins against his wife might be
forgiven.
Martha.
Poor soul, he was forgiven long
ago!
Mephistopheles.
And yet, he added, “She
was the more to blame.”
Martha.
Oh, what a liar! On his deathbed
too!
Mephistopheles.
Maybe his mind was
wandering at the close. “I had no home,” he
said, “no peace, no quiet.” Those were his
very words. 'Twas sad to hear him.
And I who slaved so hard to
make him happy!
Mephistopheles.
Ah! he didn't speak of
that. It seems that after he left his home, he
made a bit of money by fair means or foul.
Martha.
We will not judge too strictly of
the means. Where think you he hath hidden
it?
Mephistopheles.
'Twere hard to tell. He
told me that in Naples, where he was friendless,
a fair young maid had taken pity on his hard
case. They're sometimes costly, those fair
young pitiful maids.
Martha.
The villain! Oh, the villain!
He was ever a shameful man! Wine and dice
and—You understand me, sir?
Mephistopheles.
Perfectly, Madame. Mourn
him for a year, and meanwhile keep a sharp
lookout to find another.
Martha.
Oh, I couldn't, sir! I could
never love again!
Mephistopheles.
A hopeless case, eh? A
pity! Otherwise I should be almost tempted—
Martha.
Oh, sir, you're not in earnest!
[Approaches him.
Mephistopheles.
Umph! I'd best make
his word! [Turning to Margaret.]
What's
in your thought, fair lady?
Margaret.
I know not, sir.
Mephistopheles.
Sweet innocent! Ladies,
farewell!
Martha.
One moment, sir! Perhaps
'twere wiser, in view of what you've said, that
this death should be duly attested.
Mephistopheles.
I had thought of that.
A noble friend of mine who travels with me,
can add his deposition. I'll bring him here.
Martha.
Oh, do sir, pray!
Mephistopheles.
A very gallant youth,
and noble too.
[To Margaret.]
All ladies
love him!
Margaret.
I should not know how to
greet so great a lord!
Mephistopheles.
There is no king thou
art not fit to greet.
[Door opens at a gesture from Mephistopheles, and Faust appears.
Martha.
Here in this garden this evening
we'll wait you here.
| Faust | |