 | Faust |  |
ACT II
SCENE I
Scene.—An open square in a mediæval German city. On one side is a tavern with table set beside the door, round which a group of Students are seated, and with them one or two Soldiers in armour. On the other side are the steps of the Cathedral.[The Scene opens with Students' Song.
Song
Up, nightingale, and wake my dear,
Hi! Bird—Ho! Bird!
The lattice opens, thy love is near,
Hi! Bird—Ho! Bird!
Nay, who is that who clambers down?
'Tis the veriest knave in all the town,
But thy kiss hath cost him a broken crown
With a Hi! Bird—Ho!
[A roll of the drum is heard off L.
Brander.
Enough of thy cracked tuning!
comrades?
1st Soldier.
Truly 'tis time to join our
troop.
Frosch.
Well, here's to all men of valour
who go forth to war!
Altmayer.
And to all valorous men who
sit at home and sing of victory!
Siebel.
Nay, in war-time your student
counts for little, drink as deep as he may. I
can boast it that I have as pretty a way with
women as any man in all the city, yet have
I been vilely deceived.
Brander.
And look you where she goes
with yon bearded warrior by her side!
Altmayer.
Alack! 'tis true. Would I
had been a soldier: it should have fitted me
well.
Brander.
Dost hear him? Why, old
butter-tub, there is not enough steel in all
Augsburg to make a case for thy belly.
Altmayer.
Yet had I the wit to fall in
battle, 'tis like I should win a maid's kiss at
the last.
Siebel.
Ay, when there was nought left of
thee but a blown carcase beneath the moon.
Truly that must be thought of!
When all's said, the wine-cup makes the safest
kissing, and drink, not love, is your wiser
beverage.
[A Troop of Soldiers enter, followed by a Crowd of Town Folk. The Soldiers who had been drinking join them, and all move off to the sound of the drum.
Frosch.
Is Valentine not among them?
Siebel.
No, he's for the next troop—and,
look you, here he comes!
Altmayer.
Then here's a flagon for him,
and for all, and at my account! We shall drink
deep to serve him.
Brander.
[Looking off.]
Have a care,
old waggle-tongue. He hath his sister Margaret
with him, who loves not ribaldry.
Altmayer.
Nay, then we'll drink deep but
dumb.
[There is a sort of hush upon the revellers as Valentine and Margaret enter from R. above the revellers. The music is heard from the Church and Citizens pass behind them, ascending the steps of the Cathedral.
Margaret.
Must you go now?
I must, dear Margaret;
That beating drum forewarns me.
Margaret.
Then good-bye!
There'll be no hour I shall not think of thee,
No day at dawn I shall not pray for thee.
Valentine.
And I, dear sister, shall for ever keep
Thine image next my heart. Once as I trudged
Across our snows in winter, all my thought
Sped backward to a little lonely flower
That decked the spring. So it shall be again!
Beneath War's thunder skies where'er I go
I'll think of thee the whitest flower of all.
[The drum draws nearer.
My troop draws near.
Margaret.
I cannot see thee go,
But there within, before the Virgin's shrine,
I'll pray that Heaven may yield thee safe once more.
Good-bye!
Valentine.
Good-bye!
[The music within swells as Margaret enters the door, and at the same time the beating drum draws nearer. Valentine pauses on the steps of the Cathedral, looking
Altmayer.
Come, Valentine, there's time
and place for just one draught!
Siebel.
And just one toast!
Valentine.
Most willingly! Here's to
you all!
Altmayer.
And to thee, good Valentine;
and a speedy return from the war with
just wounds enough to win a tear from thy
sweetheart.
Frosch.
Ay, name her to us! Thou hast
kept her hidden till now. That shall be our
toast.
Valentine.
When I find her 'twill be time
enough to name her. Sweetheart have I
none. Such sport is for idle dogs who lag
at home. A soldier's sweetheart is his
sword.
Altmayer.
Yet a toast there must be, else
there's no cause for drinking.
Brander.
[To Valentine.]
Pray you
take pity on him, poor soul, for he would
fain drink.
Valentine.
Well, then, here's to my sister
Margaret; and he who has the worth to
city.
[As they drink the Troop comes on to the stage, and Valentine rises to join them.
Valentine.
Farewell, comrades! Have a
care to leave just one bottle for my return.
Brander.
'Twill surely be no more than
one, if old Altmayer lives so long!
[Amid general laughter and shouting of farewell, the Troop marches off, Valentine with them, to the sound of the drum.
[As the Soldiers go off and the Crowd disperses, Faust and Mephistopheles have entered and stand at the foot of the Cathedral steps.
Faust.
There goes a gallant soldier to the war!
Mephistopheles.
Ay, to be spitted on a friendly pike
And so win death or glory, haply both.
In truth, good Doctor, 'tis most fortunate
That our first upward flight should land us here,
For in this little life is mirrored all.
Those weeping maids who whisper fond farewells
Ere the day dies. So here in brief you see
Both love and glory, Life's twin fading dreams.
[Pointing to Cathedral.
And here are those who pray, then quit the shrine
To sin again that they may pray again,
Body and soul still chasing one another
Like kittens who would seek to catch their tails.
Faust.
[Pointing to revellers.]
And there, what life is there?
Mephistopheles.
The best of all.
Such wine-butts are your true philosophers,
Who neither pray, nor dream, nor fight, nor love,
But pass from cup to cup to life's last goal.
Faust.
Poor sodden fools! Is this in truth life's goal?
Mephistopheles.
Nay, not for thee. I do but show thee here
How mortals fare who lack the Devil's aid.
Our feast is better ordered. But meanwhile
We'll board these roisterers. Good morrow, sir!
[To Frosch.]
Siebel.
[To Altmayer.]
Who are these gallants?
Nobly born, be sure,
For so their garments speak them.
Brander.
Nobly born!
More like poor mountebanks who ply their trade
In borrowed plumes.
Mephistopheles.
[To Faust.]
There are some folk, you'll find,
Who never know the Devil when they see him.
Faust.
Fair greeting, gentlemen!
Siebel.
You come from far?
Mephistopheles.
Lately from Spain, that land of wine and song.
Altmayer.
Said I not so?
Frosch.
I'll board them, you shall see!
Didst chance to meet my noble cousin there?
Mephistopheles.
Ay, the Court fool! He had the same pork face,
And slobbered at the lips as thou dost now.
Altmayer.
A shrewd stroke that! He had thee there, sweet Frosch!
Wouldst join us in a drink?
Mephistopheles.
Your pardon, sir,
I only drink the best.
Brander.
That's one for thee!
Our friend is set on drinking: if naught else,
So that it burns his throat, he hath no care
To name the vintage.
Mephistopheles.
Time may come, perhaps,
When he shall find a liquor to his liking;
I know the cellar where it waits for him.
Meanwhile, if so you please, we'll broach a cask
Of something worth the tasting.
Altmayer.
Willingly!
Go, call the landlord.
Mephistopheles.
Nay, sir, let him be.
I own a richer store than he can boast of.
Give me a gimlet.
Altmayer.
Yonder one there lies
Within that basket. Look you, noble sir,
We want no scanty sample just to taste,
But full and brimming measure.
Mephistopheles.
[Boring hole in table.]
Give it a name.
Altmayer.
I'm local in my cups and patriotic—
Rhenish for me!
Frosch.
Have you so many kinds?
Mephistopheles.
Call what you will. I'm here to serve all tastes.
This is some juggler's trick.
Mephistopheles.
A little wax
To serve as stoppers. Quick, old pot-belly,
That none be wasted. Now, good sir, your choice.
Brander.
Champagne, if you can yield it.
Mephistopheles.
[To Faust.]
Mark you that,
Your cultured patriot calls an alien brand
And fills his Prussian paunch with Gallic wine.
Siebel.
I crave for something luscious!
Mephistopheles.
Then for you
We'll broach this old Tokay. And you, good sir?
Student.
I'll name the vintage when I see it flow.
This knave doth fool us all!
Mephistopheles.
Say you so?
Then draw the stoppers forth and drink your fill.
[They hold their glasses and the wine flows.
Siebel.
Most wonderful!
Altmayer.
This is a happy day.
Mephistopheles.
Yet have a care no droppings from your glass—
[Altmayer lets his glass fall and the wine turns to flame.
Help! Help! The flames of Hell!
Mephistopheles.
No, no!
A touch of Purgatory—nothing more.
[Siebel has drawn another stopper and fire flies in his face.
Siebel.
He uses some vile magic. Out on him!
Brander.
'Tis witchcraft! Strike him down! We'll none of it!
[They draw their knives on Mephistopheles.
Mephistopheles
Snare their senses, close their eyes,
Bear them hence to Southern skies.
[They draw back in a trance.
Siebel.
What land is this?
Brander.
A land of milk and honey.
Altmayer.
With luscious purple grapes on every bough.
Brander.
[Seizing Altmayer's nose.]
Here hangs a glorious bunch that needs but cutting!
[He puts his knife to Altmayer's nose.
Frosch.
And here another!
This is best of all!
Mephistopheles.
Now see them change again, while 'neath this cloak
We stand invisible.
Lead them back from Southern skies!
Frosch.
Why, what is this?
Where are those vines?
Siebel.
In truth we've been bewitched.
Brander.
[To Altmayer.]
I took thy nose to be a purple grape.
Mephistopheles.
[Aside.]
No wonder, for
the vine hath painted it!
Altmayer.
And so I deemed was thine.
Siebel.
[To Frosch.]
And thine.
Frosch.
[To Siebel.]
And thine.
Mephistopheles.
[Aside.]
Poor fools! Begone! the Devil's jest is ended.
Siebel.
Whither hath he fled?
Altmayer.
Methought I saw him ride
Over yon steeple on a butt of wine.
Brander.
Were the knave here, I'd cleave his head in twain!
Mephistopheles.
[Aside.]
Go, braggart, ere I spit thee on a skewer.
Let's go within. There's something in the air
That freezes all my marrow.
Altmayer.
Ay, within!
There's hiding in the cellar. Drink's the cure!
For witchcraft drink's your sovereign remedy.
[They go into the house like men dazed. A laugh from Mephistopheles.
Faust.
Let's quit the place; these drunkards sicken me.
[Music from Church.
Mephistopheles.
Nay, hark! the mass is ended. Wait awhile.
Prayer's a provocative and ofttimes sets
The senses newly itching.
[They begin to stream out of Church.
See you there
That buxom housewife on her husband's arm?
Last night she kissed the butcher 'neath the elm
That shades their garden patch. Yon prentice youth
With sheeplike eyes that ever seek the ground,
Can boast of more than his indentures warrant.
Ask of his master's daughter, she can tell thee!
And that pale priest who but an hour ago
Confessed a maiden who will ne'er confess
Would seem to mount toward Heaven!
[Margaret has come from the Church and stands at the head of the steps as she gives a flower to a child. Faust's gaze has been riveted upon her during the Devil's speech.
Faust.
Enough, enough!
[He advances towards Margaret.
Fair lady, let me see you to your door?
Margaret.
I am no lady, sir, nor am I fair,
And have no need of escort on my way.
[She passes across and off.
Faust.
By Heaven, how beautiful! In all the world
Dwells not her equal. Fresh and sweet and pure
As the first flower of spring that greets the snow,
Yet with red lips that ripen for a kiss
Those downcast eyelids still refuse to yield.
Ah! could I win that maid!
Mephistopheles.
What maid is that?
Faust.
She who but now passed by. Look where she goes.
Mephistopheles.
Oh, that young thing! She's lately from confession.
I stood beside her whilst the greasy priest
Absolved her of her sins, for she has none.
I would you had looked higher: these fledgling buds
Take far more plucking than a full-blown rose.
Faust.
There is no higher, nay, nor none so high.
Mephistopheles.
[Aside.]
The scentless perfume of pure innocence
Works like a poison in the air I breathe,
Its very frailty saps all my powers.
[To Faust.]
I could have set the fairest at thy feet,
Disrobed an Empress but to serve thy sport,
Or sacked the centuries to yield thee back
Dead Queens whose beauty wrecked an elder world.
Yet with this feast outspread thou needs must choose
A wind-flower from the hedgerow. Think again!
My choice lies there; naught else I care to win.
Yield to my arms this image of delight
Or count our bargain ended.
Mephistopheles.
Not so fast!
The thing needs time, that's all!—and strategy.
Faust.
Time! that's a mortal's plea: it fits thee not.
It needs thy will—no more. Be swift and sure.
Bear me some token that shall speak of her—
A kerchief from her breast,—I care not what!
Then lead me where she dwells—
Mephistopheles.
Nay, sir, not yet!
The day is still a-dying. When the moon
Peeps through her lattice—that's love's fitting hour.
Faust.
Meanwhile I need some gift to bear to her.
Mephistopheles.
A good thought that! The purest maiden's soul
Yields to the treacherous lure of glittering stones.
I know a hidden treasure hereabouts,
Left by a miser who went mad and died.
We'll pick and choose from out his buried store.
There's something here I like not. Come away!
SCENE II
Scene.—A small, neatly kept chamberEnter Mephistopheles, beckoning Faust
Mephistopheles.
Doctor, come on, but gently; follow me!
Faust.
[After a pause.]
Leave me alone! Depart, I beg of thee!
Mephistopheles.
[Peering round.]
H'm! 'Tis not every girl keeps things so neat.
[Exit.
Faust.
O welcome twilight, soft and sweet, that fills
This virgin shrine! What peace and order breathe
Around me! In this penury what plenty,
And in this cell what bliss!
[He draws aside the bed curtain.
How am I thrilled!
The angel blossom from the holy bud.
Ah, Faust, what dost thou here with heavy heart?
I who in lust's mere madness hither stole,
Now lie o'erwhelmed in the pure trance of love.
Mephistopheles.
[Returning.]
Quick! She is coming!
Faust.
I return no more!
Mephistopheles.
Here is a casket not unserviceable;
It came from—somewhere else—quick, place it here!
The gewgaws stored within will turn her head.
Faust.
Ah, but I know not—Shall I?
Mephistopheles.
Ask you that?
Perhaps you'd keep the treasure to yourself.
I trust you are not growing avaricious;
If so, I beg you spare me further trouble;
I rub my hands in tender expectation.
[Places casket in press.
Now, quick! away! You'll have her at your pleasure;
And there you stand as in the lecture-hall—
As grim as Physics and Metaphysics! Come!
[Exeunt Faust and Mephistopheles.
Enter Margaret with lamp
Margaret.
How close, how sultry here!
[Opens window.
And yet without
It is not warm.
[Begins to braid her hair.
I wonder who he was,
That gentleman I saw to-day. He seemed
Gallant and of a noble family.
Besides, he would not else have been so forward.
I tremble strangely, I am silly, timid—
Ah! but I wish my mother would come home!
[She sings as she undresses herself.
Song
Was faithful till the grave,
To whom his mistress, dying,
A golden goblet gave.
He drained it at every bout,
Whene'er he drank thereout.
His towns he reckoned up,
All to his heir he left them—
But not the golden cup!
With his knights of high degree,
In the proud hall of his fathers,
In his castle by the sea.
As he drank life's parting glow,
He hurled the hallowed goblet
Into the surf below.
Deep into the sea it sank;
His eyelids closed, and never
Again a draught he drank.
How comes this lovely casket here, I wonder!
I am quite sure I locked the press. How strange!
What can there be inside it? And a key
[She unlocks casket.
Ah! what is this? Was anything ever like it?
Heavens! never in all my days have I seen the like!
Why, ornaments and trinkets such as these
A noble lady might wear on holidays.
I wonder how this chain would suit my neck!
[She steps before the mirror.
Oh! were those earrings mine! At once they give one
A different air. Youth, beauty are well enough,
But who cares? People praise one half in pity—
But all depends on gold! Alas! we poor ones.
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.
SCENE IV
Scene.—A gardenEnter Faust and Margaret
Margaret.
Ah, sir, but I know you are
only trifling with me! You put up with me,
as travellers do, out of good nature. How can
I hope to entertain you who have seen the great
world?
Faust.
But a glance, but a word from you,
is sweeter to me than all the wisdom of the
world.
[He kisses her hand.
Margaret.
How can you bring yourself
to kiss a hand like mine, so coarse and hard?
But then I am obliged to—Well, mother
is really too close.
[Exeunt.
Enter Martha and Mephistopheles
Martha.
So you, sir, are always travelling
about hither and thither?
Alas! business and
pleasure! And many a place one regrets to
leave, yet one cannot stay.
Martha.
In the wild years of youth, of
course, to move about is well enough; but the
evil day must come, and then to sneak into
one's grave a solitary old bachelor—that cannot
be right for any one.
Mephistopheles.
I shudder at the mere
prospect.
Martha.
Then think better of it, sir,
while there is time.
Mephistopheles.
I am beginning to already.
[Exeunt.
Re-enter Faust and Margaret
Margaret.
Ah yes! Out of sight, out of
mind! It is easy for you to be polite; and
you have many friends more sensible than I am.
Faust.
People one calls sensible are more
often only mean and narrow-minded,—but
you!
Margaret.
Will you think of me, then,
just for one brief moment? Ah! I shall have
time enough to think of you!
Faust.
You are alone a great deal?
Yes; our household is small,
but one must look after it. We keep no maid;
everything falls to me. I must cook, knit,
sweep and run here and there—and mother is
so particular. Not that there is such great need
to stint. However, just now my days are
passably quiet. My brother is a soldier. I
had a little sister, but she is dead. I loved her
so much.
Faust.
If she was like you, an angel!
Margaret.
My mother lay so ill, she
could not suckle the poor little mite; so I
brought it up with milk and water. It thus
became mine; on my arm and on my bosom it
smiled and sprawled and grew.
Faust.
What a pure joy for thee!
Margaret.
Ah yes! indeed.
Yet many an anxious time. Beside my bed
Its cradle stood; and if it merely stirred
I was awake to soothe it ere it cried!
And then for many an hour, night after night
I'd pace the room, warming it next my breast
Till sleep should come again.
Faust.
Oh, gentle heart!
Hast thou forgiven me yet?
Margaret.
Forgiven thee?
Ay, for those downcast eyelids as I came
Told me thou hadst not forgotten.
Margaret.
Did they so?
Why then, sir, it was true!
Faust.
I did thee wrong
To stay thee on the threshold of the Church;
Yet 'twas thy beauty made me over-bold.
Margaret.
I'll own it hurt me, at the first, to think
I might have given thee warrant.
Faust.
Nay, 'twas I
Who dared too much!
Margaret.
And yet, I know not why,
I could not be as angry as I would!
Something there was within me still would plead
For thee against myself; till I felt sore
I was not sore with thee.
Faust.
Thou hast forgiven me!
[They go up and off, hand in hand, as
Re-enter Martha and Mephistopheles
Martha.
Ah! it is not so easy to convert
an old bachelor—but I should not call you
old!
I am getting on, you
know; but it only needs some one like you to
teach me better.
Martha.
But tell me, sir, have you never
felt an inclination for any one?
Mephistopheles.
Well, I am very difficult
to please. I am more attracted by the soul
than the body.
Martha.
Of course, good looks are not
everything.
Mephistopheles.
But I am rather partial
to the plump.
Martha.
And your heart has never been
really touched?
Mephistopheles.
Not yet; and yet you
would hardly believe the variety of women I
have come across here—and there. Charming,
I assure you: I have always been at home to
them. I wonder if it is too late for me to be
constant to one?
[He puts his arm round her.
Martha.
It is growing dark.
Mephistopheles.
Yes, we must be going.
Martha.
I would ask you to stay here
longer, but you have no notion what a place
this is for scandal.
I can't be worse than
the place I come from.
Martha.
Is that very far away, sir?
Mephistopheles.
A good distance, but
they make the journey there as comfortable as
possible.
Martha.
I have to be most careful here,
I assure you. If I were to be seen alone with
you it would be news everywhere in the
morning.
Mephistopheles.
Surely they wouldn't mind
—if they knew who I was!
Martha.
Yes; but you see they don't.
They would suspect you.
Mephistopheles.
How extraordinary! I
would not compromise you for the world.
Martha.
And besides, I would not trust
myself with you for long.
Mephistopheles.
I assure you you need
have no fear.
Martha.
And our love-birds—where are
they?
Mephistopheles.
Flown up the garden
path—naughty butterflies!
Martha.
He seems fond of her.
Mephistopheles.
Of course, and she of
flesh!
[Mephistopheles and Martha pass out by the upper path as Margaret comes lightly down from the gate.
Margaret.
Now ere he comes—
[She plucks a star flower as Faust follows her.
Faust.
[Aside.]
And wouldst thou hide again?
Nay, but I have thee now!
Margaret.
I'm half afraid
To put thee to the test; yet so I will!
[She begins to pull the leaves.
He loves me—loves me not! . . .
Faust.
What's in thy thought?
To bind a nosegay ere the sun be down?
Margaret.
No! 'Tis a foolish sport that children love!
Faust.
Teach me that sport.
Margaret.
Thou wouldst but laugh at me.
[She moves away.
He loves me not!—he loves me! . . .
Faust.
Angel soul
Thou need'st not slay a flower to tell thee that.
Nay, wait! there's more to come. He loves me not!—
And now the last!—He loves me!
[She drops the last petal to the ground as he takes her in his arms.
Faust.
Aye, he loves thee!
[She sinks on his breast as he kisses her.
Lord of the world, for so in truth I am
In owning thee: there is nought else to win.
[Mephistopheles has peeped in at the garden gate during the last speech.
Mephistopheles.
Lord of the world, I fear 'tis time to go!
SCENE V
Scene.—An interval, during which the orchestra plays a stormy melody, gradually subsiding and ending in a peaceful strain reminiscent of the Chorus of Easter Angels which in Act I. prevented Faust from taking his life. The Curtain then rises on a desolate scene of strewn boulders, black pines, and a lurid sun setting.[Faust is discovered lying prone on the earth: slowly he raises himself.
Faust.
Spirit Sublime! thou hast given me what I asked.
Hither have I retired to Nature's breast
To ease me of this fever. Here to lose
Mid air and water and the silent wood
My wild unrest. Whatever stirs the bush
Or wings the air or troubles the dark pool,
With these am I acquainted. Thou hast given
No cold amazéd knowledge of thyself,
Alas! yet nothing perfect comes to man!
Thou hast assigned me as a comrade one
Who cancels with a sneer thy loving-kindness
And ever fans within my heart a flame
Unwearied for one fair, delicious form.
I fly from her, but ever would return.
Enter Mephistopheles
Mephistopheles.
Have you not led this life now long enough?
The wilderness awhile, but not for ever.
Faust.
Find other work: to plague me thou returnest.
Mephistopheles.
Thou sitt'st here like an owl: or like a toad
From sodden moss thy nourishment deriving.
Faust.
I find a pleasure in the wilderness.
Mephistopheles.
Enough of this! Yonder, alone, she sits;
Her thoughts and yearnings all go out to thee,
And miserably long the hours delay.
She haunts her window, pacing to and fro,
Watching the clouds roll off the city wall.
Now she is lively, but more often sad—
Sad, sad and mad for thee.
Serpent, be still!
Mephistopheles.
Ah! do I trap thee now?
Faust.
Bring not again
Desire of that white bosom to my mind.
I envy even the body of the Lord
When touched by her sweet lips.
Mephistopheles.
Back to her then!
Faust.
No! no! I will no more assail her peace;
She shall return to her old simple life,
Take up again the tranquil tasks of home.
Mephistopheles.
Fool! She shall ne'er recover that old peace;
She cannot now return to simple tasks.
Faust.
Cannot?
Mephistopheles.
She hath seen thee.
Faust.
Am I so vile
That sight of me hath shattered all her peace?
Mephistopheles.
Thou art her only peace: return to her;
Never can she be glad but on thy breast.
Faust.
All this may be; but I'll return no more.
If I have troubled so her serene days,
I trouble them no more. Have I disturbed
I leave her.
Mephistopheles.
Leave her now? Is that quite fair?
You bring the trouble, then refuse to ease it.
Go back to her.
Faust.
What wouldst thou have me do?
Mephistopheles.
Finish what is begun.
Faust.
Away, thou pimp!
I'll not seduce her body and her soul!
Mephistopheles.
Her soul thou hast seduced—why hang on here?
She is no longer virgin in her thoughts,
Thou hast corrupted every wandering whim.
Think you she lieth now so still of nights?
She turns in darkness to the form of thee
And round thy image throws her burning arms.
What is the body's touch between you two?
Now her imagination is deflowered:
Thou hast defiled her, Faust, for evermore.
Faust.
Ah no! Ah no!
Mephistopheles.
The only recompense
Is now to sate the craving thou hast waked;
To-night!
Faust.
To-night!
Aye, sir, the silvering moon
Heralds the dawn of love. Yet have a care!
Her mother sleeps but lightly! This shall serve
To smooth her restless pillow.
Faust.
[Taking phial.]
What is here?
Mephistopheles.
A sweet decoction that shall swiftly link
Sunset and dawn in one.
Faust.
Not poison?
Mephistopheles.
No!
Sleep is no poison though it last for ever.
Faust.
Then let us both in ruin fall together,
And one damnation quickly seize us both.
Mephistopheles.
Now Hell seethes up in her again. Away
Into her room, and leave it not till dawn.
SCENE VI
Scene.—Margaret's garden[Margaret spinning in the doorway.
Margaret
Gone is my peace, and with heart so sore
I shall find it again nevermore.
If he be not near me, the world is a grave
And bitter as is the sea-wave.
Ah! my poor brain is racked and crazed,
My spirit and senses amazed!
Gone is my peace, and with heart so sore
I shall find it again nevermore.
At the window I stand only to greet him,
I leave the house but to meet him.
Ah! the smile of his mouth and the power of his eye,
And his noble symmetry!
What a charm in his speech, in his touch what bliss!
The rapture of his wild kiss!
Might I make him my very own!
Might I kiss but his lips till my mouth were fire,
And then on his kisses expire!
Enter Faust
Ah, dearest! thou hast been so long away,
I almost feared.... What it would be to lose thee
Thou know'st not!
Faust.
[Kissing her.]
Margaret, once more I am happy.
I fled away into the wilderness
To commune with my God. I lived alone
With mighty trees and waters and wide air,
With wild and wingéd things, creatures and birds;
But all availed not. Oh, the very desert
Was haunted by thee; solitudes were filled
Suddenly with thy presence, silences
Murmured thee in my ear. From thee to fly
Is but to bring thee doubly near to me.
Margaret.
And I all day lonely at yonder window
Have stood, and listened for a single step;
Now took my work up, and now set it down;
And now I loved in rapture, now in gloom.
Ah! leave me nevermore.
Faust.
Nay, nevermore.
Margaret.
Oh! the deep bliss descending on me fast,
Like steady rain on an unfolding flower.
Yet one thing troubles me.
Faust.
What troubles thee?
Margaret.
Dearest, dost thou believe?
Faust.
In what
Margaret.
In God.
Faust.
Darling, who dares say “I believe in God”?
Margaret.
Oh! but we must!
Faust.
I feel the living God
Trembling in starlight, surging in the sea,
And rushing by me in the wind; I feel Him
Approach me close in twilight without word.
He shakes my soul with thunder—oh, to feel
It all! I have no single name to give it—
Bliss, Love, God, what you will, the name is smoke
Obscuring all the serene glow of Heaven.
And, dear, long has it been a grief to me
To see thee in such company.
Faust.
How so?
Margaret.
Thy comrade, who is ever at thy side;
His face with a deep horror fills my soul,
And my heart shudders at his voice.
Faust.
Yet why?
Margaret.
I know not; but believe me I can tell
He is not a good man. O God forgive me
If I speak ill of any; but I feel
He is not good. I am so happy here,
So yielding and free, and warm upon thy arm,
But if his face peer round the garden wall
I am struck cold, and cannot love, or pray.
But I must go.
Faust.
Ah! will there never come
A quiet hour when we two, heart to heart
And soul to soul may cling; when we two may
Drive down the stream and headlong greet the sea,
The full ocean of bliss?
Margaret.
Now am I thine
In my outgoing and returning, night
And day, by sunlight or by moonlight thine;
So utterly am I given o'er to thee
In spirit, that what else thou dost desire
Can have no strangeness in it, only bliss.
I have yielded—then do with me what thou wilt.
Faust.
Oh, if to-night—I burn for thee!
Margaret.
And I
For thee!
Faust.
To-night then!
Margaret.
If I slept alone
I would undraw the bolt for thy desire;
But mother sleeps so light of late, and if
She should discover us I could but die.
Faust.
Thou angel, fear it not. Here is a phial:
Pour but three drops into her sleeping cup
And she will sleep on deeply thro' the night.
Margaret.
It will not harm her: thou art sure?
Faust.
Would I
Give it if there were danger?
Margaret.
O belovéd,
I will refuse thee nothing. I will open
That window when she is fallen quite asleep;
Listen for that—and then I'll unlock the door.
How heavy come the roses on the air
To-night! Kiss me—I must go in.
[He kisses her passionately.
Faust.
'Tis hard
To part but for a moment.
Margaret.
Only wait!
[She goes into the house. As Faust stands expectant, the door of the garden opens and Mephistopheles appears.
Faust.
Who's there?
Mephistopheles.
A friend.
Faust.
A fiend!
Mephistopheles.
Ay, both in one!
Faust.
Monster, begone!
Mephistopheles.
I have no need to stay,
My work is done.
[Margaret's hand is seen opening the lattice as Faust makes a threatening gesture to Mephistopheles.
Softly! The rest is thine!
Faust.
And thine!
Mephistopheles.
[As the door closes on Faust.]
Ay, truly thine and mine in one!
| Faust | |