 | Goethe's Faust : First Part |  |
98
SCENE VIII.
Evening.A Clean Little Room.
Margaret.
Something I'd give, could I but say
Who was that gentleman to-day!
A gallant man he seemed to be,
And come of a noble family,
That from his brow I could have told—
And else he would not have been so bold.
[Exit]
(Enter Faust and Mephistopheles.)
Mephistopheles.
Come in, tread softly, but come on!
Faust
(after remaining silent for awhile.)
I beg thee, leave me here alone!
Mephistopheles
(peering about.)
Not every girl's neat as this one.
[Exit]
Faust
(looking round.)
Welcome to thee, sweet evenshine!
That hoverest through this holy place.
Seize on my heart, love's pain, sweet and divine!
That livest on hope's fresh dew, pining for grace.
How breathes around the sense of quiet,
Of order, sweet content as well!
This poverty seems wealth's abundance
What bliss within this narrow cell!
(He sinks into the leathern chair by the bed.)
Receive me here, thou who the old folk, long gone,
In joy and sorrow with open arms didst hold!
How oft, ah me! around their Father's throne,
A little flock of children hung of old!
Perhaps, even, grateful for the Christmas gift,
My Darling here, with her plump cheek so fair,
Her Grandsire's withered hand to kiss would lift.
I feel, O Maiden! thy spirit rare
Breathe on me content and order; with deft hand
Motherlike, here it teaches thee to lay
The cloth, so clean and smooth upon the table each day,
Beneath thy feet to scatter the crisp sand.
O thou divine, dear hand! Through thee
This cot becomes Heaven's Kingdom for me.
And here! (He draws back the curtains of the bed.)
Why seizes me this rapturous fear?
Here hours and hours I fain would wait.
Nature, thou didst in gentle dreams create
The home-born Angel who nestles here;
Here in sweet sleep, her tender breast
Filled with warm life, the child has lain,
And here her form divine, at rest
Fashioned itself without a stain!
That hoverest through this holy place.
Seize on my heart, love's pain, sweet and divine!
That livest on hope's fresh dew, pining for grace.
How breathes around the sense of quiet,
Of order, sweet content as well!
This poverty seems wealth's abundance
What bliss within this narrow cell!
(He sinks into the leathern chair by the bed.)
Receive me here, thou who the old folk, long gone,
99
How oft, ah me! around their Father's throne,
A little flock of children hung of old!
Perhaps, even, grateful for the Christmas gift,
My Darling here, with her plump cheek so fair,
Her Grandsire's withered hand to kiss would lift.
I feel, O Maiden! thy spirit rare
Breathe on me content and order; with deft hand
Motherlike, here it teaches thee to lay
The cloth, so clean and smooth upon the table each day,
Beneath thy feet to scatter the crisp sand.
O thou divine, dear hand! Through thee
This cot becomes Heaven's Kingdom for me.
And here! (He draws back the curtains of the bed.)
Why seizes me this rapturous fear?
Here hours and hours I fain would wait.
Nature, thou didst in gentle dreams create
The home-born Angel who nestles here;
Here in sweet sleep, her tender breast
Filled with warm life, the child has lain,
And here her form divine, at rest
Fashioned itself without a stain!
And thou! What then has brought thee here?
How stir within me passions long sere?
What wouldst thou here with heart grown heavy and sore?
Ah! wretched Faust! I know thee now no more.
How stir within me passions long sere?
What wouldst thou here with heart grown heavy and sore?
Ah! wretched Faust! I know thee now no more.
Does magic mist breathe round this chair
Urge me to rush to bliss to-night,
Feel myself melt in dreams of Love's delight!
Are we the sport of every breath of air?
Yet, were she suddenly through the door to pass,
How wouldst thou for thy fault find vengeance meet!
I, the great clown, so small, alas!
Would lie there melting at her feet.
Urge me to rush to bliss to-night,
Feel myself melt in dreams of Love's delight!
Are we the sport of every breath of air?
Yet, were she suddenly through the door to pass,
How wouldst thou for thy fault find vengeance meet!
I, the great clown, so small, alas!
Would lie there melting at her feet.
Mephistopheles
(entering.)
Quick! Here she comes, I see, below.
100
Off! off! I will come here no more!
Mephistopheles.
Here's a small casket, heavy though,
I have brought it from a secret store
Hide it somewhere, this press will do
'Twill drive her crazy now, I swear;
I have put some trinkets in it for you,
Another ninny to ensnare.
Well, maid is maid, and game is game.
Faust.
I know not, shall I?
Mephistopheles.
You ask? For shame!
Mean you, perhaps, to bag this treasure?
Then to Your Lustihood I say:
Trouble not further this fine day,
Nor me, to wait upon your pleasure.
I scratch my poll, and rub my hands—
(He puts the casket into the press and shuts the door.)
Now quick! away!
I find you this young thing sweet as May,
Tame to your will, and heart's demands,
Peeping you come,
As though you entered a lecture-room,
And, standing grey and lifelike 'fore you there,
Physics and Metaphysics were.
Away!
[Exeunt]
Margaret
(entering with a lamp.)
It is so sultry and close in here (opens the window.)
Yet the street was cool, as fell the gloam,
I feel I know not how—so queer—
I wish my Mother would come home.
Through every limb I shudder so,
I'm a silly, timid girl, I know.
(She begins to sing as she undresses.)
101
There was a King in Thule,
Faithful unto the grave,
To whom his Mistress, dying,
A golden beaker gave.
Faithful unto the grave,
To whom his Mistress, dying,
A golden beaker gave.
Nothing he held more precious,
At feasts, in solemn wise
He drained it, and in drinking
The tears o'erflowed his eyes.
At feasts, in solemn wise
He drained it, and in drinking
The tears o'erflowed his eyes.
And when Death's hand drew nigh him
He grudged his Heir not one
Of all his realm's fair cities,
He grudged that cup alone.
He grudged his Heir not one
Of all his realm's fair cities,
He grudged that cup alone.
He sat at royal banquet,
Round him his chivalry,
In the great Hall of his Fathers,
In his Castle by the sea.
Round him his chivalry,
In the great Hall of his Fathers,
In his Castle by the sea.
There stood the brave old toper
Drank up his life's last glow,
And flung the sacred beaker
Into the tide below.
Drank up his life's last glow,
And flung the sacred beaker
Into the tide below.
He watched it falling, filling
And sinking in the sea,
His eyes grew dim to swooning,
No drop evermore drank he.
And sinking in the sea,
His eyes grew dim to swooning,
No drop evermore drank he.
How comes this casket here thrust in?
I am certain that I locked the press!
But it is wonderful! And what may be within?
Brought here as someone's pledge, I guess,
My Mother lent on it, no doubt.
Here by this ribbon hangs a key,
102
What's this? O God in Heaven! Look there,
Such things as in my life I've never seen!
A set of jewels a Noble Dame might wear,
On highest holidays, I ween.
How would this chain look upon me?
But who can own these splendid things?
(She puts on the jewels, and steps before the glass.)
If mine were only these ear-rings!
One looks so different when they're on.
What use are beauty and fresh young blood?
That is all very well and good
But counts not much with anyone;
They praise you, but half in pity.
Round gold men throng,
For gold they long,
Ah! we poor folk in the City!
| Goethe's Faust : First Part | |