Faust A Tragedy. By J. W. Goethe |
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| 8. | SCENE VIII. |
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 | Faust |  |
SCENE VIII.
Night.Street before Margaret's door.
Enter Valentine.
When I sat with our merry men,
At a carousal, now and then,
Where one may be allowed a boast,
And my messmates gave toast for toast
To the girl they prized the most,
And with a bumper then swill'd o'er
Their praise, when they could praise no more;
I'd sit at ease, and lean upon
My elbow, while they prated on,
Till all the swaggerers had done,
And smile and stroke my beard, and fill
The goodly rummer to my hand,
And say, All that is very well!
But is there one, in all the land,
That with my Margaret may compare,
Or even tie the shoe to her?
Rap, rap! cling, clang! so went it round!
Each one a flowing bumper takes,
And bawls aloud, Yes, she's the one, Sir!
Her match is no where to be found,
A very pattern to the sex!
And the braggarts had nothing to answer.
And now,—the devil's in the matter!
It is enough to make one clatter,
Like a rat, along the walls!
With gibes and jeers shall each one taunt me?
Each meanest villain now affront me?
And every pettiest word that falls
Me, like a purseless debtor, torture?
And though I bruised them in a mortar,
I could not say that they were wrong.
At a carousal, now and then,
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And my messmates gave toast for toast
To the girl they prized the most,
And with a bumper then swill'd o'er
Their praise, when they could praise no more;
I'd sit at ease, and lean upon
My elbow, while they prated on,
Till all the swaggerers had done,
And smile and stroke my beard, and fill
The goodly rummer to my hand,
And say, All that is very well!
But is there one, in all the land,
That with my Margaret may compare,
Or even tie the shoe to her?
Rap, rap! cling, clang! so went it round!
Each one a flowing bumper takes,
And bawls aloud, Yes, she's the one, Sir!
Her match is no where to be found,
A very pattern to the sex!
And the braggarts had nothing to answer.
And now,—the devil's in the matter!
It is enough to make one clatter,
Like a rat, along the walls!
With gibes and jeers shall each one taunt me?
Each meanest villain now affront me?
And every pettiest word that falls
Me, like a purseless debtor, torture?
And though I bruised them in a mortar,
I could not say that they were wrong.
What comes apace?—what creeps along?
There is a pair comes slinking in.
Is it the man whom I suppose?
I'll seize him, instant, by the skin:
Not living from the spot he goes!
There is a pair comes slinking in.
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I'll seize him, instant, by the skin:
Not living from the spot he goes!
(Retires.)
Enter Faust and Mephistopheles.
FAUST.
As, from the window of the vestry there,
The light of the eternal lamp doth glare,
And sidewards gleameth, dimmer still and dimmer,
Till darkness closes round its fitful glimmer!
So murky is it in my soul.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
And I feel faintish, like a kitten
Upon a weary winter day,
Beside the smoky fire-place sitting,
And shrinking from the cold away.
Yet am I in most virtuous trim,
For a small trick at stealing, or at lechery;
So jumps already through my every limb
Walpurgis-Night, with all its glorious witchery.
The day after to-morrow comes again
The feast, with fun and frolic in its train.
FAUST.
Is it not time that you were raising
The treasure there in the distance blazing?
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Soon shall you sate your eyes with gazing,
And lift up from the urn yourself
A little mine of precious pelf.
I gave it a side-glance before—
Saw lion-dollars by the score.
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Is there no gaud?—no jewel at all?
To deck my sweet little mistress withal.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
O yes! I saw some trinkets for the girls,—
A sort of necklace strung with pearls.
FAUST.
'Tis well that we have this to give her,
For empty-handed go I never.
MEPHISTOPHELES.
And yet a wise man ought to learn
To enjoy gratis, as well as to earn,
Now, that the stars are bright and the sky clear,
A piece of genuine music you shall hear;
A moral song—that, while we seem to school her,
With the more certainty we may befool her.
(Sings to the guitar.)
To enjoy gratis, as well as to earn,
Now, that the stars are bright and the sky clear,
A piece of genuine music you shall hear;
A moral song—that, while we seem to school her,
With the more certainty we may befool her.
Why stands before
Her lover's door,
Young Cath'rine here,
At early break of day?
Beware, beware!
He lets thee in,
A maiden in,
A maiden not away!
Her lover's door,
Young Cath'rine here,
At early break of day?
Beware, beware!
He lets thee in,
A maiden in,
A maiden not away!
When full it blows,
He breaks the rose,
And leaves thee then,
A wretched outcast thing!
Take warning, then,
And yield to none
But who hath shewn,
And changed with thee the ring.
He breaks the rose,
And leaves thee then,
A wretched outcast thing!
Take warning, then,
And yield to none
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And changed with thee the ring.
VALENTIN.
(advancing.)
Ho, Serenaders! by the Element!
You whoreson rascals! you rat-catchers, you!
First, to the devil with the instrument,
And, after it, the harper too!
MEPHISTOPHELES.
My good guitar is broken past redemption!
VALENTIN.
And your skull, too, anon; come, boy, attention!
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Quick, Doctor! here's no time to tarry!
Keep close, as I shall lead the way.
Out with your goosewing! out, I say!
Make you the thrusts, and let me parry.
VALENTIN.
Then parry that!
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Why not?
VALENTIN.
And that!
MEPHISTOPHELES.
Of course!
VALENTIN.
I believe the devil is here, or something worse.
Good God! what's this?—my arm is lamed!
MEPHISTOPHELES.
(to FAUST.)
Have at him there!
VALENTIN.
(falls.)
O woe!
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Now is the lubber tam'd!
But let's begone! why stand you gaping there?
They'll raise a hue and cry here in a trice.
I can shift pretty well with the police,
But blood spilt is a dangerous affair.
MARTHA.
(at the window.)
Ho! murder, ho!
MARGARET.
(at the window.)
A light! a light!
MARTHA.
(as above.)
They bawl, they brawl, they strike, they fight.
THE PEOPLE.
And here lies one already dead!
MARTHA.
(appearing below.)
Where are the murderers? are they fled?
GRETCHEN.
(below.)
Who's this lies here?
THE PEOPLE.
Thy mother's son.
MARGARET.
Almighty God! my brother dead!
VALENTIN.
I die! I die!—'tis quickly said,
And yet more quickly done.
Why stand you, women, and weep and wail?
Draw near, and listen to my tale!
(They all come round him.)
My Margaret, mark me, you are young,
And in sense not overstrong,
You manage matters ill.
I tell thee in thine ear, that thou
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Mayst go and take thy fill.
MARGARET.
My brother! God! what do you mean?
VALENTIN.
Leave the Lord God out of the jest;
Said is said, and done is done;
Now you may manage, as you best
Know how to help the matter on.
You commenced the trade with one,
We shall have two, three, four, anon,
Next a dozen, and next a score,
And then the whole town at your door.
Said is said, and done is done;
Now you may manage, as you best
Know how to help the matter on.
You commenced the trade with one,
We shall have two, three, four, anon,
Next a dozen, and next a score,
And then the whole town at your door.
When sin is born it shuns the light,
(For conscience guilt may not abide it)
And they draw the veil of night
Over head and ears, to hide it;
Yea, they would murder it, if they might.
But anon it waxes bolder,
And walks about in broad day-light,
And, uglier still as it grows older;
The less it offers to invite
The more it courts the public sight.
(For conscience guilt may not abide it)
And they draw the veil of night
Over head and ears, to hide it;
Yea, they would murder it, if they might.
But anon it waxes bolder,
And walks about in broad day-light,
And, uglier still as it grows older;
The less it offers to invite
The more it courts the public sight.
Ev'n now, methinks, I see the day,
When every honest citizen,
As from a corpse of tainted clay,
From thee, thou whore! will shrink away.
Thy very heart shall fail thee then,
When they shall look thee in the face!
No more shall golden chain thee grace!
The Church shall spurn thee from its door!
The altar shall not own thee more!
Nor longer, with thy spruce lace-tippet,
Where the dance wheels, shalt thou trip it!
Some wretched hovel shalt thou live in,
With beggars and cripples for company;
And if above thou art forgiven,
On earth thou shalt accursed be!
When every honest citizen,
As from a corpse of tainted clay,
From thee, thou whore! will shrink away.
Thy very heart shall fail thee then,
When they shall look thee in the face!
No more shall golden chain thee grace!
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The altar shall not own thee more!
Nor longer, with thy spruce lace-tippet,
Where the dance wheels, shalt thou trip it!
Some wretched hovel shalt thou live in,
With beggars and cripples for company;
And if above thou art forgiven,
On earth thou shalt accursed be!
MARTHA.
Commend thy parting soul to heaven!
Would'st thou add blasphemy to sin?
VALENTIN.
Could I but reach thy withered skin,
Thou hag, thou vile and shameless bawd!
For such a deed might well be had
Forgiveness rich of every sin.
MARGARET.
Brother, thou mak'st me feel a hell of pain!
VALENTIN.
I tell thee, all thy tears are vain!
Thou pierced'st me, ev'n to the heart,
When with thy honour thou didst part.
I go through death, with fearless mood,
To meet my God, as a soldier should.
(Dies.)
| Faust | |