The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries, Volume 01

Thou art and dost remain liar and sophist too.

MEPHISTOPHELES

Ay, if one did not take a somewhat deeper view!Tomorrow, in all honor, thouPoor Gretchen wilt befool, and vowThy soul's deep love, in lover's fashion.

FAUST

And from my heart.

MEPHISTOPHELES

 All good and fair!Then deathless constancy thou'lt swear;Speak of one all o'ermastering passion—Will that too issue from the heart?

FAUST

 Forbear!When passion sways me, and I seek to frameFit utterance for feeling, deep, intense,And for my frenzy finding no fit name,Sweep round the ample world with every sense,Grasp at the loftiest words to speak my flame,And call the glow, wherewith I burn,Quenchless, eternal, yea, eterne—Is that of sophistry a devilish play?

MEPHISTOPHELES

Yet am I right!

FAUST

 Mark this, my friend,And spare my lungs; who would the right maintain,And hath a tongue wherewith his point to gain,Will gain it in the end.But come, of gossip I am weary quite;Because I've no resource, thou'rt in the right.

GARDEN

MARGARET on FAUST's arm. MARTHA with MEPHISTOPHELES walking up and down.

MARGARET

I feel it, you but spare my ignorance,The gentleman to blame me stoops thus low.A traveler from complaisanceStill makes the best of things; I knowToo well, my humble prattle never canHave power to entertain so wise a man.

FAUST

One glance, one word from thee doth charm me moreThan the world's wisdom or the sage's lore.

[He kisses her hand.]

MARGARET

Nay! trouble not yourself! A hand so coarse,So rude as mine, how can you kiss!What constant work at home must I not do perforce!My mother too exacting is.

[They pass on.]

MARTHA

Thus, sir, unceasing travel is your lot?

MEPHISTOPHELES

Traffic and duty urge us! With what painAre we compelled to leave full many a spot,Where yet we dare not once remain!

MARTHA

In youth's wild years, with vigor crown'd,'Tis not amiss thus through the world to sweep;But ah, the evil days come round!And to a lonely grave as bachelor to creepA pleasant thing has no one found.

MEPHISTOPHELES

The prospect fills me with dismay.

MARTHA

Therefore in time, dear sir, reflect, I pray.

[They pass on.]

MARGARET

Ay, out of sight is out of mind!Politeness easy is to you;Friends everywhere, and not a few,Wiser than I am, you will find.

FAUST

O dearest, trust me, what doth pass for senseFull oft is self-conceit and blindness!

MARGARET

How?

FAUST

Simplicity and holy innocence—When will ye learn your hallow'd worth to know!Ah, when will meekness and humility,Kind and all-bounteous nature's loftiest dower—

MARGARET

Only one little moment think of me!To think of you I shall have many an hour.

FAUST

You are perhaps much alone?

MARGARET

Yes, small our household is, I own,Yet must I see to it. No maid we keep,And I must cook, sew, knit, and sweep,Still early on my feet and late;My mother is in all things, great and small,So accurate!Not that for thrift there is such pressing need,Than others we might make more show indeed;My father left behind a small estate,A house and garden near the city-wall.But fairly quiet now my days, I own;As soldier is my brother gone;My little sister's dead; the babe to rearOccasion'd me some care and fond annoy;But I would go through all again with joy,The darling was to me so dear.

FAUST

An angel, sweet, if it resembled thee!

MARGARET

I reared it up, and it grew fond of me.After my father's death it saw the day;We gave my mother up for lost, she layIn such a wretched plight, and then at lengthSo very slowly she regain'd her strength.Weak as she was, 'twas vain for her to tryHerself to suckle the poor babe, so IReared it on milk and water all alone;And thus the child became as 'twere my own;Within my arms it stretched itself and grew,And smiling, nestled in my bosom too.

FAUST

Doubtless the purest happiness was thine.

MARGARET

But many weary hours, in sooth, were also mine.At night its little cradle stoodClose to my bed; so was I wide awakeIf it but stirred;One while I was obliged to give it food,Or to my arms the darling take;From bed full oft must rise, whene'er its cry I heard,And, dancing it, must pace the chamber to and fro;Stand at the wash-tub early; forthwith goTo market, and then mind the cooking too—Tomorrow like today, the whole year through.Ah, sir, thus living, it must be confess'dOne's spirits are not always of the best;Yet it a relish gives to food and rest.

[They pass on.]

MARTHA

Poor women! we are badly off, I own;A bachelor's conversion's hard, indeed!

MEPHISTOPHELES

Madam, with one like you it rests alone,To tutor me a better course to lead.

MARTHA

Speak frankly, sir, none is there you have met?Has your heart ne'er attach'd itself as yet?

MEPHISTOPHELES

One's own fire-side and a good wife are goldAnd pearls of price, so says the proverb old.

MARTHA

I mean, has passion never stirred your breast?

MEPHISTOPHELES

I've everywhere been well received, I own.

MARTHA

Yet hath your heart no earnest preference known?

MEPHISTOPHELES

With ladies one should ne'er presume to jest.

MARTHA

Ah! you mistake!

MEPHISTOPHELES

 I'm sorry I'm so blind!But this I know—that you are very kind.

[They pass on.]

FAUST

Me, little angel, didst thou recognize,When in the garden first I came?

MARGARET

Did you not see it? I cast down my eyes.

FAUST

Thou dost forgive my boldness, dost not blameThe liberty I took that day,When thou from church didst lately wend thy way?

MARGARET

I was confused. So had it never been;No one of me could any evil say.Alas, thought I, he doubtless in thy mien,Something unmaidenly or bold hath seen?It seemed as if it struck him suddenly,Here's just a girl with whom one may make free!Yet I must own that then I scarcely knewWhat in your favor here began at once to plead;Yet I was angry with myself indeedThat I more angry could not feel with you.

FAUST

Sweet love!

MARGARET

Just wait awhile! [She gathers a star-flower and plucks off the leaves one after another.]

FAUST

A nosegay may that be?

MARGARET

No! It is but a game.

FAUST

How?

MARGARET

Go, you'll laugh at me!

[She plucks off the leaves and murmurs to herself.]

FAUST

What murmurest thou?

MARGARET (half aloud)

He loves me—loves me not.

FAUST

Sweet angel, with thy face of heavenly bliss!

MARGARET (continues)

He loves me—not—he loves me—not— [plucking off the last leaf with fond joy.]

He loves me!

FAUST

                                 Yes!And this flower-language, darling, let it beA heavenly oracle! He loveth thee!Know'st thou the meaning of, He loveth thee?

[He seizes both her hands.]

MARGARET

I tremble so!

FAUST

 Nay! do not tremble, love!Let this hand-pressure, let this glance revealFeelings, all power of speech above;To give oneself up wholly and to feelA joy that must eternal prove!Eternal!—Yes, its end would be despair,No end!—It cannot end!

[MARGARET presses his hand, extricates herself, and runs away. He stands a moment in thought, and then follows her.]

MARTHA (approaching)

Night's closing.

MEPHISTOPHELES

Yes, we'll presently away.

MARTHA

I would entreat you longer yet to stay;But 'tis a wicked place, just here about;It is as if the folk had nothing else to do,Nothing to think of too,But gaping watch their neighbors, who goes in and out;And scandal's busy still, do whatsoe'er one may.And our young couple?

MEPHISTOPHELES

 They have flown up there,The wanton butterflies!

MARTHA

 He seems to take to her.And she to him. 'Tis of the world the way!

A SUMMER-HOUSE

[MARGARET runs in, hides behind the door, holds the tip of her finger to her lip, and peeps through the crevice.]

MARGARET

He comes!

FAUST

 Ah, little rogue, so thouThink'st to provoke me! I have caught thee now!

[He kisses her.]

MARGARET (embracing him, and returning the kiss)

Dearest of men! I love thee from my heart!

[MEPHISTOPHELES knocks.]

FAUST (stamping)

Who's there?

MEPHISTOPHELES

A friend!

FAUST

A brute!

MEPHISTOPHELES

'Tis time to part.

MARTHA (comes)

Ay, it is late, good sir.

FAUST

Mayn't I attend you, then?

MARGARET

Oh no—my mother would—adieu, adieu!

FAUST

And must I really then take leave of you?Farewell!

MARTHA

Good-bye!

MARGARET

Ere long to meet again!

[Exeunt FAUST and MEPHISTOPHELES.]

MARGARET

Good heavens! how all things far and nearMust fill his mind—a man like this!Abash'd before him I appear,And say to all things only, yes.Poor simple child, I cannot seeWhat 'tis that he can find in me.

[Exit.]

FOREST AND CAVERN

FAUST (alone)

Spirit sublime! Thou gav'st me, gav'st me allFor which I prayed! Not vainly hast thou turn'dTo me thy countenance in flaming fire:Gavest me glorious nature for my realm,And also power to feel her and enjoy;Not merely with a cold and wondering glance,Thou dost permit me in her depths profound,As in the bosom of a friend to gaze.Before me thou dost lead her living tribes,And dost in silent grove, in air and streamTeach me to know my kindred. And when roarsThe howling storm-blast through the groaning wood,Wrenching the giant pine, which in its fallCrashing sweeps down its neighbor trunks and boughs,While hollow thunder from the hill resounds:Then thou dost lead me to some shelter'd cave,Dost there reveal me to myself, and showOf my own bosom the mysterious depths.And when with soothing beam, the moon's pale orbFull in my view climbs up the pathless sky,From crag and dewy grove, the silvery formsOf by-gone ages hover, and assuageThe joy austere of contemplative thought.Oh, that naught perfect is assign'd to man,I feel, alas! With this exalted joy,Which lifts me near, and nearer to the gods,Thou gav'st me this companion, unto whomI needs must cling, though cold and insolent,He still degrades me to myself, and turnsThy glorious gifts to nothing, with a breath.He in my bosom with malicious zealFor that fair image fans a raging fire;From craving to enjoyment thus I reel,And in enjoyment languish for desire.

[MEPHISTOPHELES enters.]

MEPHISTOPHELES

Of this lone life have you not had your fill?How for so long can it have charms for you?'Tis well enough to try it if you will;But then away again to something new!

FAUST

Would you could better occupy your leisure,Than in disturbing thus my hours of joy.

MEPHISTOPHELES

Well! Well! I'll leave you to yourself with pleasure,A serious tone you hardly dare employ.To part from one so crazy, harsh, and cross,Were not in truth a grievous loss.The live-long day, for you I toil and fret;Ne'er from his worship's face a hint I get,What pleases him, or what to let alone.

FAUST

Ay truly! that is just the proper tone!He wearies me, and would with thanks be paid!

MEPHISTOPHELES

Poor Son of Earth, without my aid,How would thy weary days have flown?Thee of thy foolish whims I've cured,Thy vain imaginations banished.And but for me, be well assured,Thou from this sphere must soon have vanished.In rocky hollows and in caverns drear,Why like an owl sit moping here?Wherefore from dripping stones and moss with ooze embued,Dost suck, like any toad, thy food?A rare, sweet pastime. Verily!The doctor cleaveth still to thee.

FAUST

Dost comprehend what bliss without alloyFrom this wild wand'ring in the desert springs?—Couldst thou but guess the new life-power it brings,Thou wouldst be fiend enough to envy me my joy.

MEPHISTOPHELES

What super-earthly ecstasy! at night,To lie in darkness on the dewy height,Embracing heaven and earth in rapture high,The soul dilating to a deity;With prescient yearnings pierce the core of earth,Feel in your laboring breast the six-days' birth,Enjoy, in proud delight what no one knows,While your love-rapture o'er creation flows—The earthly lost in beatific vision,And then the lofty intuition—

(with a gesture)

I need not tell you how—to close!

FAUST

Fie on you!

MEPHISTOPHELES

 This displeases you? "For shame!"You are forsooth entitled to exclaim;We to chaste ears it seems must not pronounceWhat, nathless, the chaste heart cannot renounce.Well, to be brief, the joy as fit occasions rise,I grudge you not, of specious lies.But long this mood thou'lt not retain.Already thou'rt again outworn,And should this last, thou wilt be tornBy frenzy or remorse and pain.Enough of this! Thy true love dwells apart,And all to her seems flat and tame;Alone thine image fills her heart,She loves thee with an all-devouring flame.First came thy passion with o'erpowering rush,Like mountain torrent, swollen by the melted snow;Full in her heart didst pour the sudden gush,Now has thy brooklet ceased to flow.Instead of sitting throned midst forests wild,It would become so great a lordTo comfort the enamor'd child,And the young monkey for her love reward.To her the hours seem miserably long;She from the window sees the clouds float byAs o'er the lofty city-walls they fly."If I a birdie were!" so runs her song,Half through the night and all day long.Cheerful sometimes, more oft at heart full sore;Fairly outwept seem now her tears,Anon she tranquil is, or so appears,And love-sick evermore.

FAUST

Snake! Serpent vile!

MEPHISTOPHELES (aside)

Good! If I catch thee with my guile!

FAUST

Vile reprobate! go get thee hence;Forbear the lovely girl to name!Nor in my half-distracted senseKindle anew the smouldering flame!

MEPHISTOPHELES

What wouldest thou! She thinks you've taken flight;It seems, she's partly in the right.

FAUST

I'm near her still—and should I distant rove,Her I can ne'er forget, ne'er lose her love;And all things touch'd by those sweet lips of hers,Even the very Host, my envy stirs.

MEPHISTOPHELES

'Tis well! I oft have envied you indeed,The twin-pair that among the roses feed.

FAUST

Pander, avaunt!

MEPHISTOPHELES

 Go to! I laugh, the while you rail;The power which fashion'd youth and maidWell understood the noble trade;So neither shall occasion fail.But hence!—A mighty grief I trow!Unto thy lov'd one's chamber thouAnd not to death shouldst go.

FAUST

What is to me heaven's joy within her arms?What though my life her bosom warms!—Do I not ever feel her woe?The outcast am I not, unhoused, unblest,Inhuman monster, without aim or rest,Who, like the greedy surge, from rock to rock,Sweeps down the dread abyss with desperate shock?While she, within her lowly cot, which gracedThe Alpine slope, beside the waters wild,Her homely cares in that small world embraced,Secluded lived, a simple artless child.Was't not enough, in thy delirious whirlTo blast the stedfast rocks!Her, and her peace as well,Must I, God-hated one, to ruin hurl!Dost claim this holocaust, remorseless Hell!Fiend, help me to cut short the hours of dread!Let what must happen, happen speedily!Her direful doom fall crushing on my head,And into ruin let her plunge with me!

MEPHISTOPHELES

Why how again it seethes and glows!Away, thou fool! Her torment ease!When such a head no issue sees,It pictures straight the final close.Long life to him who boldly dares!A devil's pluck thou'rt wont to show;As for a devil who despairs—Nothing I find so mawkish here below.

MARGARET'S ROOM

MARGARET (alone at her spinning wheel)

   My peace is gone,      My heart is sore,    I find it never,      And nevermore!    Where him I have not,      Is the grave; and all    The world to me      Is turned to gall.    My wilder'd brain      Is overwrought;    My feeble senses      Are distraught.    My peace is gone,      My heart is sore,    I find it never,      And nevermore!    For him from the window      I gaze, at home;    For him and him only      Abroad I roam.    His lofty step,       His bearing high,    The smile of his lip,       The power of his eye,    His witching words,      Their tones of bliss,    His hand's fond pressure,      And ah—his kiss!    My peace is gone,      My heart is sore,    I find it never,      And nevermore.    My bosom aches      To feel him near;    Ah, could I clasp      And fold him here!   Kiss him and kiss him     Again would I,   And on his kisses    I fain would die.

MARTHA'S GARDEN

MARGARET and FAUST

MARGARET

Promise me, Henry!

FAUST

What I can!

MARGARET

How thy religion fares, I fain would hear.Thou art a good kind-hearted man,Only that way not well-disposed, I fear.

FAUST

Forbear, my child! Thou feelest thee I love;My heart, my blood I'd give, my love to prove,And none would of their faith or church bereave.

MARGARET

That's not enough, we must ourselves believe!

FAUST

Must we?

MARGARET

 Ah, could I but thy soul inspire!Thou honorest not the sacraments, alas!

FAUST

I honor them.

MARGARET

 But yet without desire;'Tis long since thou hast been either to shrift or mass.Dost thou believe in God?

FAUST

 My darling, who dares say?Yes, I in God believe.Question or priest or sage, and theySeem, in the answer you receive,To mock the questioner.

MARGARET

Then thou dost not believe?

FAUST

Sweet one! my meaning do not misconceive!Him who dare name,And who proclaim—Him I believe?Who that can feel,His heart can steel,To say: I believe him not?The All-embracer,All-sustainer,Holds and sustains he notThee, me, himself?Lifts not the Heaven its dome above?Doth not the firm-set earth beneath us lie?And, beaming tenderly with looks of love,Climb not the everlasting stars on high?Do we not gaze into each other's eyes?Nature's impenetrable agencies,Are they not thronging on thy heart and brain,Viewless, or visible to mortal ken,Around thee weaving their mysterious chain?Fill thence thy heart, how large soe'er it be;And in the feeling when thou utterly art blest,Then call it, what thou wilt—Call it Bliss! Heart! Love! God!I have no name for it!'Tis feeling all;Name is but sound and smokeShrouding the glow of heaven.

MARGARET

All this is doubtless good and fair;Almost the same the parson says,Only in slightly different phrase.

FAUST

Beneath Heaven's sunshine, everywhere,This is the utterance of the human heart;Each in his language doth the like impart;Then why not I in mine?

MARGARET

 What thus I hearSounds plausible, yet I'm not reconciled;There's something wrong about it; much I fearThat thou art not a Christian.

FAUST

My sweet child!

MARGARET

Alas! it long hath sorely troubled me,To see thee in such odious company.

FAUST

How so?

MARGARET

 The man who comes with thee, I hate,Yea, in my spirit's inmost depths abhor;As his loath'd visage, in my life before,Naught to my heart e'er gave a pang so great.

FAUST

Him fear not, my sweet love!

MARGARET

 His presence chills my blood.Toward all beside I have a kindly mood;Yet, though I yearn to gaze on thee, I feelAt sight of him strange horror o'er me steal;That he's a villain my conviction's strong.May Heaven forgive me, if I do him wrong!

FAUST

Yet such strange fellows in the world must be!

MARGARET

I would not live with such an one as he.If for a moment he but enter here,He looks around him with a mocking sneer,And malice ill-conceal'd;That he with naught on earth can sympathize is clear;Upon his brow 'tis legibly revealedThat to his heart no living soul is dear.So blest I feel, within thine arms,So warm and happy—free from all alarms;And still my heart doth close when he comes near.

FAUST

Foreboding angel! check thy fear!

MARGARET

It so o'ermasters me that when,Or wheresoe'er, his step I hear,I almost think, no more I love thee then.Besides, when he is near, I ne'er could pray.This eats into my heart; with theeThe same, my Henry, it must be.

FAUST

This is antipathy!

MARGARET

I must away.

FAUST

For one brief hour then may I never rest,And heart to heart, and soul to soul be pressed?

MARGARET

Ah, if I slept alone! TonightThe bolt I fain would leave undrawn for thee;But then my mother's sleep is light,Were we surprised by her, ah me!Upon the spot I should be dead.

FAUST

Dear angel! there's no cause for dread.Here is a little phial—if she takeMixed in her drink three drops, 'twill steepHer nature in a deep and soothing sleep.

MARGARET

What do I not for thy dear sake!To her it will not harmful prove?

FAUST

Should I advise it else, sweet love?

MARGARET

I know not, dearest, when thy face I see,What doth my spirit to thy will constrain;Already I have done so much for thee,That scarcely more to do doth now remain. [Exit.]

(MEPHISTOPHELES enters)

MEPHISTOPHELES

The monkey! Is she gone?

FAUST

Again hast played the spy?

MEPHISTOPHELES

Of all that pass'd I'm well apprized,I heard the doctor catechized,And trust he'll profit much thereby!Fain would the girls inquire indeedTouching their lover's faith and creed,And whether pious in the good old way;They think, if pliant there, us too he will obey.

FAUST

Thou monster, dost not see that thisPure soul, possessed by ardent love,Full of the living faith,To her of blissThe only pledge, must holy anguish prove,Holding the man she loves fore-doomed to endless death!

MEPHISTOPHELES

Most sensual, supersensualist! The whileA damsel leads thee by the nose!

FAUST

Of filth and fire abortion vile!

MEPHISTOPHELES

In physiognomy strange skill she shows;She in my presence feels she knows not how;My mask it seems a hidden sense reveals;That I'm a genius she must needs allow,That I'm the very devil perhaps she feels.So then tonight—

FAUST

What's that to you?

MEPHISTOPHELES

I've my amusement in it too!

AT THE WELL

MARGARET and BESSY, with pitchers

BESSY

Of Barbara hast nothing heard?

MARGARET

I rarely go from home—no, not a word.

BESSY

'Tis true: Sybilla told me so today!That comes of being proud, methinks;She played the fool at last.

MARGARET

How so?

BESSY

 They sayThat two she feedeth when she eats and drinks.

MARGARET

Alas!

BESSY

 She's rightly served, in sooth.How long she hung upon the youth!What promenades, what jaunts there wereTo dancing booth and village fair!The first she everywhere must shine,He always treating her to pastry and to wine.Of her good looks she was so vain,So shameless too, that to retainHis presents, she did not disdain;Sweet words and kisses came anon—And then the virgin flower was gone.

MARGARET