Part 5
THE ANIMALS (who have hitherto been making all manner of strange movements in confusion, bring Mephistopheles a crown with great outcry). Oh, do be so good, With sweat and with blood To glue the crown together! (They handle the crown clumsily and break it into two pieces, with which they leap about.)
Now it is done! We speak and see, We hear and rhyme.
FAUST (toward the mirror). Woe is me! I am almost going mad.
MEPHISTOPHELES (pointing at the animals). Now my own head begins well-nigh to swim.
THE ANIMALS. And if we succeed, And if it is fitting, Then they are thoughts!
FAUST (as above). My bosom begins to burn within me! Let us only depart with speed!
MEPHISTOPHELES (in the above posture). Well, at least one must confess That they are sincere poets. (The kettle, which the cat had hitherto neglected, begins to overflow; a great flame arises, which shoots out through the chimney. The witch comes hurtling down through the flame with terrible outcry.)
THE WITCH. Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Accursed beast! damned sow! Neglect the kettle, singe the wife! Accursed beast! (Seeing Faust and Mephistopheles.) What is this here? Who are you here? What do you want there? Who sneaked in? May fire-pain Seize your bones! (She dips the skimming ladle into the kettle and splashes flames at Faust, Mephistopheles, and the animals. The animals whimper.)
MEPHISTOPHELES (who turns the fan he holds in his hand around and strikes it among the glasses and pots). In two! in two! There lies the mash! There lies the glass! It is but sport, The measure, you carcass, To your melody. (While the witch, full of fury and horror, recoils.) Do you know me? Skeleton! you monster! Do you know your lord and master? What stays my hand, that I should strike And shatter you and your cat-spirits! Have you no more respect for the red coat? Can you not recognize the cock's feather? Have I hidden this face? Am I to name myself, perchance?
THE WITCH. O sir, forgive the rude salute! I see no horse's hoof, 'tis true. Where then are your two ravens?
MEPHISTOPHELES. This time you escape thus; For certainly it is a good while now Since we have seen each other. Moreover, culture, which licks the whole world, Has extended even to the devil; The northern phantom is now no more to be seen; Where do you see horns, tail, and claws? And as for the foot, which I cannot do without, It would harm me among people; Therefore, like many a young man, For many years I have used false calves.
THE WITCH (dancing). Sense and reason well-nigh leave me, Seeing the young sir Satan here again!
MEPHISTOPHELES. That name, woman, I beg you not to use!
THE WITCH. Why? What has it done to you?
MEPHISTOPHELES. It has long been written in the book of fables; Yet men are no better off, They are rid of the evil one, but the evil ones remain. You call me Baron, and then the matter is good; I am a cavalier, like other cavaliers. You doubt not my noble blood; See here, this is the coat of arms that I bear! (He makes an indecent gesture.)
THE WITCH (laughs immoderately). Ha! Ha! That is in your manner! You are a knave, as you ever were!
MEPHISTOPHELES (to Faust). My friend, learn well to understand this! This is the way to deal with witches.
THE WITCH. Now say, you sirs, what you are about.
MEPHISTOPHELES. A good glass of the well-known juice! Yet I must ask you for the oldest; The years double its power.
THE WITCH. Gladly! Here I have a flask From which I myself sometimes nibble, Which no longer stinks in the least; I will gladly give you a little glass. (Softly.) But if this man drinks it unprepared He cannot, as you know, live an hour.
MEPHISTOPHELES. He is a good friend, for whom it shall prosper; I gladly grant him the best of your kitchen. Draw your circle, speak your spells, And give him a cupful! (The witch, with strange gestures, draws a circle and places wonderful things within it; meanwhile the glasses begin to ring, the kettle to sound, and make music. At last she brings a large book, places the monkeys in the circle, who must serve her as a desk and hold the torch. She beckons Faust to come to her.)
FAUST (to Mephistopheles). No, tell me, what is to come of this? The mad stuff, the raving gestures, The most insipid deceit, Are known to me, hateful enough.
MEPHISTOPHELES. Eh, pranks! It is only for laughing; Be not such a stern man! She must, as physician, perform hocus-pocus, That the juice may thrive for you. (He urges Faust to step into the circle.)
THE WITCH (with great emphasis begins to declaim from the book). You must understand! From One make Ten, And let Two go, And Three make even, Then you are rich. Lose the Four! From Five and Six, So says the witch, Make Seven and Eight, Then it is done. And Nine is One, And Ten is none. That is the witches' multiplication!
FAUST. Methinks the old woman speaks in fever.
MEPHISTOPHELES. That is far from over yet; I know it well, so sounds the whole book; I have lost some time with it, For a perfect contradiction Remains equally mysterious to the wise and to the fools. My friend, the art is old and new. It was the custom at all times, Through Three and One, and One and Three, To spread error instead of truth. Thus one chatters and teaches undisturbed; Who would concern himself with fools? Usually man believes, if he but hears words, That something must surely be thought therein.
THE WITCH (continues). The high power Of science, Hidden from the whole world! And who thinks not, To him it is given, He has it without care.
FAUST. What nonsense she recites to us! My head will split forthwith. Methinks I hear a whole chorus Of a hundred thousand fools speaking.
MEPHISTOPHELES. Enough, enough, O excellent sibyl! Give your drink here, and fill The bowl swiftly to the very brim; For this draught will not harm my friend. He is a man of many degrees, Who has taken many a good draught. (The witch, with many ceremonies, pours the drink into a bowl; as Faust brings it to his mouth, a slight flame arises.)
Now straight down! Ever on! Your heart will soon rejoice. If you are on familiar terms with the devil, And would shrink before the flame? (The witch dissolves the circle. Faust steps out.)\n Now straight out! You must not rest.
THE WITCH. May the little draught please you well!
MEPHISTOPHELES (to the witch). And if I can do you a favor, You need only tell me on Walpurgis Night.
THE WITCH. Here is a song! If you sing it sometimes, You will feel a special effect.
MEPHISTOPHELES (to Faust). Come quickly now and let yourself be led; You must necessarily perspire, That the power may penetrate through inner and outer. The noble idleness I shall teach you to prize thereafter, And soon you will feel with inward delight How Cupid stirs and leaps to and fro.
FAUST. Let me just look quickly into the mirror! The woman's image was too beautiful!
MEPHISTOPHELES. No! No! You shall soon see The pattern of all women In bodily form before you. (Softly.)
You see, with this drink in your body, Soon Helen in every woman.
STREET (I)
Faust. Margarete passing by.
FAUST. My fair maiden, may I venture To offer you my arm and escort?
MARGARETE. I am neither maiden nor fair, Can go home unled. (She frees herself and exits.)
FAUST. By heaven, this child is beautiful! Never have I seen the like. She is so modest and virtuous, And yet somewhat pert at the same time. The red of the lip, the light of the cheek, The days of the world I shall not forget! How she cast down her eyes Has deeply imprinted itself in my heart; How she was short with me Is now quite to the point of rapture! (Mephistopheles enters.)
FAUST. Hark, you must get me that wench!
MEPHISTOPHELES. Well, which one?
FAUST. She just went past.
MEPHISTOPHELES. That one? She comes from her parson, Who absolved her of all sins; I sneaked hard by the stool, She is a most innocent thing, Who just went to confession for nothing; Over her I have no power!
FAUST. She is past fourteen years, though.
MEPHISTOPHELES. You speak like Hans Liederlich, Who covets every dear flower for himself, And fancies there is no honor And favor that were not to be plucked; Yet it does not always go.
FAUST. My Herr Magister Lobesan, Let him leave me in peace with the law! And this I tell him short and good. If that sweet young blood Does not rest tonight in my arms, Then we are parted by midnight.
MEPHISTOPHELES. Consider what may come to pass! I need at least fourteen days, Only to spy out the opportunity.
FAUST. Had I but seven hours of rest, I should need the devil for it not at all To seduce such a little creature.
MEPHISTOPHELES. You speak already almost like a Frenchman; Yet I beg you, let it not vex you. What help is it, to enjoy straightway? The joy is by no means so great, As if you first up, around, Through all manner of trumpery, Had kneaded and prepared the puppet As teaches many a foreign tale.
FAUST. I have appetite even without that.
MEPHISTOPHELES. Now without insult and without jest. I tell you, with the fair child It goes once and for all not swiftly. With storm nothing is to be taken there; We must accommodate ourselves to cunning.
FAUST. Get me something from the angel's treasure! Lead me to her place of rest! Get me a neckerchief from her breast, A garter of my love's lust!
MEPHISTOPHELES. That you may see I would be Promoting and serving your pain, We will lose not a moment, Will lead you into her chamber yet today.
FAUST. And shall I see her? have her?
MEPHISTOPHELES. No! She will be with a neighbor. Meanwhile you can quite alone On all hope of future joys In her atmosphere sate yourself.
FAUST. Can we go?
MEPHISTOPHELES. It is yet too early. FAUST. Provide you a gift for her for me! (Exit.)
MEPHISTOPHELES. Present at once? That is brave! There he will succeed! I know many a fair spot And many an old-buried treasure; I must revise a little. (Exit.)
EVENING.
A small neat room
MARGARETE (plaiting and binding up her locks.) I would give something if I but knew Who the gentleman was today! He surely looked right gallant And is of noble house; That I could read on his brow— Else he would not have been so bold. (Exit.)
MEPHISTOPHELES. Come in, quite softly, only come in!
FAUST (after some silence). I pray you, leave me alone!
MEPHISTOPHELES (sniffing around.) Not every girl keeps so clean. (Exit.)
FAUST (looking around.) Welcome, sweet twilight, That weave through this sanctuary! Seize my heart, you sweet love-pain, That live languishing from the dew of hope! How all around breathes the sense of stillness, Of order, of contentment! In this poverty what fullness! In this prison what blessedness! (He throws himself on the leather armchair by the bed.)
O take me up, who in open arms Didst receive the foreworld in joy and pain! How oft, alas! at this paternal throne Has a troop of children hung around! Perhaps my love, grateful for the holy Christ, Here with full childish cheeks Piously kissed the withered hand of the ancestor. I feel, O maiden, your spirit That murmurs fullness and order around me, Which daily instructs you motherly To spread the carpet cleanly on the table, Even to curl the sand at your feet. O loving hand! so godlike! The hut becomes through you a heaven. And here! (He lifts a bed-curtain.)
What seizes me with a rapture-awe! Here would I dally full hours. Nature, here in light dreams Didst fashion the inborn angel! Here lay the child! with warm life The tender bosom filled, And here with holy pure weaving The godlike image was wrought!
And you! What brought you here? How inwardly I feel myself moved! What would you here? What makes your heart so heavy? Miserable Faust! I know you no more.
Does a magic scent surround me here? I was urged to enjoy straightway, And feel myself dissolving in love-dream! Are we a play of every pressure of the air?
And if she entered this very moment, How would you atone for your trespass! The great Hans, alas, how so small! Would lie, melted, at her feet.
MEPHISTOPHELES (comes.) Quick! I see her coming below.
FAUST. Away! Away! I return nevermore!
MEPHISTOPHELES. Here is a casket tolerably heavy, I have taken it from elsewhere. Set it here in the press, I swear to you, she will lose her senses; I put little things in it, To win another. True, child is child, and play is play.
FAUST. I know not, should I?
MEPHISTOPHELES. Do you ask much? Do you perhaps mean to guard the treasure? Then I counsel your lustfulness, To spare the dear fair daytime And me the further trouble. I hope not that you are stingy! I scratch my head, rub my hands— (He sets the casket in the press and presses the lock shut again.) Only away! quickly! To turn the sweet young child To your heart's wish and will; And you look As if you should step into the lecture hall, As if gray physics and metaphysics Stood bodily before you! Only away! (Exit.)
MARGARETE (with a lamp.) It is so close, so stuffy here— (She opens the window.) And yet it is not so warm outside. I feel so, I know not how— I wish mother would come home. A shudder runs over my whole body— Yet I am a foolish fearful woman! (She begins to sing as she undresses.)
There was a king in Thule Faithful even to the grave, To whom, dying, his mistress Gave a golden cup.
Nothing surpassed it for him, He drains it at every feast; His eyes overflowed Whene'er he drank from it.
And when he came to die, He counted his cities in the realm, Bequeathed all to his heir, But not the cup at the same time.
He sat at the royal feast, The knights around him, In the high ancestral hall, There on the castle by the sea.
There stood the old carouser, Drank the last living glow And threw the holy cup Down into the flood.
He saw it plunge, drink And sink deep into the sea, His eyes began to sink, Drank never another drop.
(She opens the press to put away her clothes, and beholds the jewel-casket.)
How comes this beautiful casket in here? I surely locked the press quite fast. It is indeed wonderful! What may be within? Perhaps someone brought it as a pledge, And my mother lent on it. There hangs a little key on a ribbon— I think I'll open it! What is this? God in heaven! Look, Such have I never seen in my life! A jewel! With this a noble lady Could go on the highest holiday. How would the necklace become me! To whom may the splendor belong?
(She adorns herself with it and steps before the mirror.)
If only the earrings were mine! One looks quite different at once. What help is beauty, young blood? That is all fair and good, But one leaves it all alone; One praises you half with pity. For gold they press, On gold they hang Yet all. Ah, we poor ones!
PROMENADE
Faust walking up and down in thought. Mephistopheles joins him.
MEPHISTOPHELES. By all scorned love! By the hellish element! I wish I knew something worse, that I might curse it!
FAUST. What ails you? What pinches you so sore? Such a face I have never seen in my life!
MEPHISTOPHELES. I would surrender myself to the devil forthwith, If I were not myself the devil!
FAUST. Has something slipped in your head? It befits you to rage like a madman!
MEPHISTOPHELES. Think only, the jewels, procured for Gretchen, A parson has snatched away! The mother gets the thing to see, Straightway begins to feel a secret dread, The woman has a fine scent indeed, Always snuffling in the prayer-book And smells at every piece of furniture, Whether the thing is holy or profane; And at the jewels there she plainly scents That there was not much blessing therewith. “My child,” she cried, “unrighteous goods Enmesh the soul, consume the blood. We will consecrate it to the Mother of God, Will rejoice us with heavenly manna!” Little Margaret pulled a wry mouth, Thought, it is a gift-horse, And truly! not godless is he Who brought it so finely hither. The mother let a parson come; He had scarce heard the jest, Let himself enjoy the sight. He spoke: “So one is rightly minded! Who overcomes, wins. The Church has a good stomach, Has devoured whole lands And yet never surfeited itself; The Church alone, my dear women, Can digest unrighteous goods.”
FAUST. That is a general custom, A Jew and a king may do it too.
MEPHISTOPHELES. Stripped off thereupon a clasp, chain, and rings, As if they were just mushrooms, Thanked no less and no more Than if it were a basket of nuts, Promised them all heavenly reward— And they were much edified thereby.
FAUST. And Gretchen?
MEPHISTOPHELES. Sits now restless, Knows neither what she will nor ought, Thinks of the finery day and night, Still more of him who brought it.
FAUST. The dear one's sorrow grieves me. Get her straightway a new adornment! The first indeed was not much.
MEPHISTOPHELES. O yes, to the gentleman all is child's play!
FAUST. And make, and arrange it to my mind, Attach yourself to her neighbor! Be, devil, but not like mush, And procure a new adornment!
MEPHISTOPHELES. Yes, gracious sir, from the heart gladly. (Faust exits.)
Such a love-fool puffs away Sun, moon, and all stars to you For the sweetheart into the air as pastime. (Exit.)
THE NEIGHBOR'S HOUSE
Martha alone.
God forgive my dear husband, He did not well by me! Goes straight off into the wide world And leaves me alone on the straw. He would truly not grieve me, Would, God knows, love me heartily. (She weeps.) Perhaps he is dead indeed!—O pain!— Had I but a certificate of death!
(Margarete comes.)
MARGARETE. Mistress Martha!
MARTHE. Little Gretel, what is it?
MARGARETE. Almost sink my knees beneath me! There I find such a casket again In my press, of ebony, And things splendid altogether, Far richer than the first was.
MARTHE. You must not tell your mother that; She would straightway take it to confession.
MARGARETE. Ah see only! ah look only!
MARTHE (adorns her.) O you blissful creature!
MARGARETE. May, alas, not let myself be seen In the street nor in the church.
MARTHE. Come you often over to me, And put on the jewels here secretly; Walk an hour long before the looking-glass, We shall have our joy of it; And then there is an occasion, there is a feast, Where one may show it to people by and by. A little chain first, then the pearl in the ear; The mother sees it not, one makes her something too.
MARGARETE. Who could have brought the two caskets? It does not go with right dealings! (Someone knocks.)
Ah God! may that be my mother?
MARTHE (peeping through the curtain.) It is a strange gentleman—Come in!
(Mephistopheles enters.)
MEPHISTOPHELES. Take the liberty, straight to step in, Must beg pardon of the ladies. (Bows respectfully back before Margarete.) Wished to ask after Mistress Martha Schwerdtlein!
MARTHE. I am she, what has the gentleman to say?
MEPHISTOPHELES (softly to her.) I know you now, that is enough for me; She has there quite noble company. Pardon the liberty I have taken, Will come again in the afternoon.
MARTHE (laughs). Think, child, for all in the world! The gentleman takes you for a maiden.
MARGARETE. I am a poor young blood; Ah God! the gentleman is too good. Jewels and adornment are not mine.
MEPHISTOPHELES. Ah, it is not the jewels alone; She has a bearing, a glance so sharp! How I rejoice that I may stay.
MARTHE. What bring you then? I desire greatly—
MEPHISTOPHELES. I would I had a gladder tidings! I hope you will not punish me for it. Your husband is dead and sends you greetings.
MARTHE. Is dead? the faithful heart! O woe! My husband is dead! Ah I perish!
MARGARETE. Ah, dear mistress, despair not!
MEPHISTOPHELES. So hear the sorrowful tale!
MARGARETE. I would not love for that my life long, Would grieve myself to death at the loss.
MEPHISTOPHELES. Joy must have sorrow, sorrow must have joy.
MARTHE. Tell me the end of his life!
MEPHISTOPHELES. He lies buried in Padua By Saint Anthony At a well-consecrated spot For an eternally cool resting-bed.
MARTHE. Have you nothing else to bring me?
MEPHISTOPHELES. Yes, a request, great and heavy. Let her sing three hundred masses for him! For the rest my pockets are empty.
MARTHE. What! not a keepsake? no adornment? What every journeyman spares in the bottom of his pouch, Preserves as a memento, And rather hungers, rather begs!
MEPHISTOPHELES. Madam, it grieves me heartily; But he truly did not squander his money. Also he repented his faults sore, Yea, and bewailed his misfortune still more.
MARGARETE. Ah, that men are so unhappy! Surely, I will pray many a requiem for him.
MEPHISTOPHELES. You were worthy to step straight into marriage. You are a lovely child.
MARGARETE. Ah no, that will not do yet.
MEPHISTOPHELES. If not a husband, be for now a gallant. 'Tis one of the greatest heavenly gifts, To have such a dear thing in one's arm.
MARGARETE. That is not the custom of the land.
MEPHISTOPHELES. Custom or not! It comes about too.
MARTHE. Tell me then!
MEPHISTOPHELES. I stood at his deathbed, It was something better than of dung, Of half-rotten straw; yet he died as a Christian And found that he had much more still on the reckoning. “How,” he cried, “must I hate myself from the ground, Thus to leave my trade, my wife! Ah, the remembrance kills me Would she but forgive me yet in this life!”
MARTHE (weeping). The good man! I have long forgiven him.
MEPHISTOPHELES. “Yet, God knows! she was more to blame than I.”
MARTHE. He lies! What! to lie at the edge of the grave!
MEPHISTOPHELES. He surely fabulated in his last throes, If I am but half a judge. “I had,” spoke he, “not to gape for pastime First children, and then bread for them to procure, And bread in the widest sense, And could not even eat my share in peace.”
MARTHE. Has he so all fidelity, so all love forgotten, The toil by day and night!
MEPHISTOPHELES. Not so, he thought of you heartily. He spoke: “When I now went away from Malta Then I prayed for wife and children fervently; To us was then also heaven favorable, That our ship caught a Turkish vessel, Which carried a treasure of the great Sultan. Then was valor's reward, And I received too, as was fitting, My well-measured share thereof.”
MARTHE. Eh how? Eh where? Has he perhaps buried it?
MEPHISTOPHELES. Who knows where now the four winds have it. A fair maiden took him in charge, When he in Naples strayed about a stranger; She did much love and truth to him, That he felt it to his blessed end.
MARTHE. The knave! the thief to his children! Also all misery, all distress Could not hinder his shameful life!
MEPHISTOPHELES. Well see! for that he is now dead. Were I now in your place, I would mourn him a decent year, And in the meantime look out for a new treasure.
MARTHE. Ah God! how my first was, I find not easily on this earth the other! He could scarce be a dearer little fool. He loved only the all-too-much wandering And strange women and strange wine And the accursed dice-play.
MEPHISTOPHELES. Well, well, it could go and stand thus, If he for his part had overlooked you about so much. I swear to you, on this condition I would myself exchange the ring with you!
MARTHE. O the gentleman is pleased to jest!
“Stories of the world, in your language.”