University of Virginia Library

SCENE XI.

A Street.
Faust and Mephistopheles.
Faust.
How goes it? Speed we well? Is the coast clear?

Mephistopheles.
Bravo! Do I find you all on fire?
Gretchen will soon grant your desire.
At Neighbour Martha's house this evening you shall see her.
There's a rare woman, who knows her trade,
As Gipsy-coupler of man and maid!

Faust.
'Tis well!

Mephistopheles.
But one demand she made to-day.

Faust.
One service by another we should repay.

Mephistopheles.
We must bring valid proof, and testify
That her dead husband's bones in Padua lie,
In consecrated ground at rest.

Faust.
How clever! And now post-haste to Padua we must go!

Mephistopheles.
Sancta Simplicitas! That were a bootless quest;
Swear to it, though much you do not know.

Faust.
If you've naught better, to shreds the plan must go.

Mephistopheles.
O saintly man! Hang back, 'twere best!
Is it the first time in your life that you
Have borne false witness, if that be sin?
Have you not of God, the World, and all that moves therein
Given definitions, with mighty power too,
With impudent brow, unfaltering breath?
Yet sound the depths of your own being
Of things like this, confess you can't help seeing
You knew as much as of Herr Schwerdtlein's death!

Faust.
Thou art, remain'st a Sophist and a liar.

Mephistopheles.
Yes, if a little deeper you don't inquire.
For wilt thou not to-morrow, in honour's name,
Befool poor Gretchen, without shame,
Forsworn in the old canting soul's-love game?

Faust.
From my heart, truly.

Mephistopheles.
Well and good!
Then will come faith and love eternal,
One impulse, resistless, unique, supernal—
Will this too gush with your heart's blood?

Faust.
Sneer not! It will!—When in my mind,
For the unrest troubling my breast,
I seek for names, and none can find,
Then through the world, with senses keen, I rove,
Snatch at some word, all words above,
This glowing fire wherein I flame
Eternal, infinite I name
Is this a devilish lying game?

Mephistopheles.
Yet I am right!

Faust.
Hear! mark but this—
Pray spare me further exercise of lung—
He who will have his way, and only has a tongue,
Get's his hearts lust.
Come, I've had prate enough, changed parry and thrust;
For thou art right, I yield because I must.