University of Virginia Library

SCENE XVI.

Martha's Garden.
Margaret and Faust.
Margaret.
Promise me, Heinrich!

Faust.
What I can.

Margaret.
Tell me now as to religion, how is't with thee?
Thou art at heart so good a man,
Yet, as I think, thou treat'st it carelessly.

Faust.
Leave that, my child! Thou feel'st to thee I am good;
And for my Love would part with flesh and blood,
Would no one of his faith or church bereave.

Margaret.
That is not right, in it one must believe!

Faust.
Must one?

Margaret.
Ah! if I had some hold on thee!
Thou honourest not the Holy Sacraments, I see.

Faust.
I honour them.

Margaret.
Yet longest for none.
'Tis long since thou to Mass, or to Confession hast gone.
Dost thou believe in God?

Faust.
My Love, who dares to say:
I believe in Him?
Ask priests or sages what think they,
Their answer seems but mockery grim
Of him who questions them.

Margaret.
Believ'st thou not?

Faust.
My sweet-faced Love, mistake not so my thought!
Who dares to name
His name? proclaim:
I believe in Him?
Who that can feel
What all things reveal
Dare say: I believe not?
The All-embracer,
The All-sustainer,
Clasps and sustains He not
Thee, me, Himself?
Arches not Heaven there above us?
Lies not earth, founded fast beneath?
And mount not, kindly peeping,
Still the eternal stars on high?
Do we but gaze, eyes into eyes,
And throng not all things
Into thy head and heart,
And weave in eternal mystery
The invisible visible in thee?
Fill with it then thy heart, great as it is;
And when in feeling thou art filled with perfect bliss,
Call it then what thou wilt,
Happiness! heart! love! God!
I have no names in sooth
For this! Feeling is all;
Names are sound, smoke, not flame,
Clouding the heaven's glow.

Margaret.
That is all beautiful and good, I know,
The priest indeed says much the same,
Only in a rather different way.

Faust.
So everywhere they say
All hearts under the heavenly day
And each in his own tongue,
Then why not I in mine?

Margaret.
When so one hears, it sounds so fine,
But something wrong lurks there at last,
No Christianity thou hast.

Faust.
Dear child!

Margaret.
It long has troubled me,
To see thee in such company.

Faust.
How so?

Margaret.
The man thou hast for mate,
From my soul's inmost deeps I frankly hate;
Nothing in all my life
E'er stabbed my heart so, as with a knife,
Like that man's loathsome face, God wot!

Faust.
Dearest poppet, fear him not!

Margaret.
His presence curdles all my blood,
To all men else I wish but good;
But much as I long thy face to see,
Before him strange horror comes over me,
I hold him to be a scoundrel too!
God pardon me, if wrong to him I do!

Faust.
Such cynic knaves there must always be.

Margaret.
I would not live with such rogues as he!
When through the door he slinks in here,
He looks about him with a sneer,
Half-furiously;
One sees that nothing e'er moved him to sympathy;
'Tis written, his frowning brows above,
That not a soul he could ever love.
I am so happy in thy arm,
So free, so given to thee, so warm,
And his vile presence cramps my inmost heart, I vow!

Faust.
Thou evil-boding angel, thou!

Margaret.
This cows me with fear so sore,
That, when he even may pass our way,
I feel as though I loved thee then no more,
And when he comes here I can never pray,
That eats into the heart of me;
And, Heinrich, it must be so with thee.

Faust.
Thou hast a strange antipathy.

Margaret.
Now I must go.

Faust.
Ah! ne'er can I
One little hour repose upon thy breast,
Bosom to bosom, soul to soul be prest?

Margaret.
Ah! if alone I did but sleep!
I would unlock the door to-night for thee;
But Mother's slumber is not deep,
And, if she chanced on thee and me,
Upon the spot I should fall dead!

Faust.
My Angel, there is naught to dread.
Here is a flask! Three drops, but three
Mixed with her drink, she will not wake,
But sleep a natural sleep, and pleasantly.

Margaret.
What would I not do for thy sake?
I hope in no wise it will harm her!

Faust.
Should I advise it, then, sweet charmer?

Margaret.
Dearest, when thee I look upon,
I know not what subdues me to thy will;
So much for thee already I have done,
But little more to do is left me still.

[Exit]
(Enter Mephistopheles.)
Mephistopheles.
The monkey! Is it gone?

Faust.
Spying, as I surmised.

Mephistopheles.
Well how things go I have understood,
Herr Doctor here was catechised;
I hope that it will do you good.
In their own interest girls are well-advised,
To find one sleek and pious in the old way.
They think, if here he bends he'll follow our lead some day.

Faust.
Thou monster, thou can'st ne'er have known
How these true souls, who love, believe
Full of their living faith,
Which can alone
Sanctify their frail hearts, divinely grieve
That they must deem the man they love lost at his death.

Mephistopheles.
Thou sense-transcending, sensual squire,
A maiden leads thee by the nose.

Faust.
Thou abortion, born of filth and fire!

Mephistopheles.
In physiognomy a master's art she shows.
And always in my presence she feels, she knows not how,
My mask reveals to her my hidden thought;
She scents an evil genius in me now,
The Devil himself mayhap she's caught.
And now, to-night—?

Faust.
What's that to thee?

Mephistopheles.
There's pleasure in it even for me!