GRETCHEN.

GRETCHEN.A PLAY,IN FOUR ACTS.First produced at the Olympic Theatre, on March 24th, 1879.DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.Dominic.Anselm.Faustus.Gottfried.Mephisto.Agatha.Bessie.Barbara.Lisa.Gretchen.Martha.Friedrich.Note.—The leading idea of this play was suggested by Goethe’s “Faust.” The author is indebted to that work for the scene between Mephisto and Martha in Act II. In every other respect the dialogue is original.

A PLAY,IN FOUR ACTS.

First produced at the Olympic Theatre, on March 24th, 1879.

Note.—The leading idea of this play was suggested by Goethe’s “Faust.” The author is indebted to that work for the scene between Mephisto and Martha in Act II. In every other respect the dialogue is original.

GRETCHEN.ACT I.Scene.—Under the cloisters of a monastery. In the centre of the stage a graveyard; in the graveyard, conspicuous among other tombs, is a tall monument. Procession ofMonkscrosses the stage at back. Moonlight.Dominicdiscovered seated, reading. To him entersAnselm.Dom.Pax vobiscum, father!Ans.Benedicite!I am rejoiced that, after many perilsBy sea and land, I am once more among you.How fares our poor sick Faustus?Dom.By Heaven’s grace,He is, in body, well—yet much I fearThere lies some hidden canker at his soul.When he was prostrate on a fevered bed,The utterings of his deliriumWere rather those of some base man of sin,Than of a holy father, vowed to heaven.Ans.Thy news is grave indeed; but knowest thou thisOf thine own knowledge?Dom.Ay, in truth I do.I took my turn with others at his bed,And all who watched him made the same report.When the delirium was at its worstHis fevered brain was filled with worldly dreams,And seemed to revel in the guilty joysThat he for once and all had long forsworn.Now at a gaming table, flushed with wine,And swearing roundly that the dice were loaded;Now at a drunken revel, trolling forthUngodly songs that set mine ears ablaze;Now at the chase; now breathing words of loveInto the ears of some fair wanton; thenInvoking curses on her wantonness!Ans.But spake he never of the holy lifeThat he is sworn to lead?Dom.Nay, never once,Unless it were to curse the evil hasteThat led him to it.Ans.It affects me muchTo hear these tidings of our well-loved Faustus.I knew that, ere he took his holy vows,He led a life of sin, and for that causeI more rejoiced his heart had turned to grace.But, see, he comes. Leave me alone with him.I’ll speak to him as father speaks to son.Dom.May Heaven speed thy work.[ExitDominic.EnterFaustus.Ans.Come hither, son.The kindly brothers who attended theeIn thy delirium have no light causeTo think that, though thy priestly ministriesAre to the letter faithfully performed,Thy heart is bent on worldly matters still.Faus.Of what do they complain? Can any sayThat I have failed in my observances?That I have spoken ill of any man?That I live not a chaste and sober life?That I am loth to pray with dead and dying?Are not my priestly duties well discharged?Ans.Would that all priests within these sacred wallsTook thee for an ensample in these matters.But who can read the inmost heart of man?The lips may move in prayer, and but the lips.Speak to me frankly—tell me by what meansThou wast induced to quit the world without,Its fleeting pleasures and its lasting pains,For the pure calm of these monastic shades?Faus.Oh, father, holy father, bear with me,My heart is very sore!Ans.Come—tell me all,Fear nothing; speak to me as to thyself.Faus.How shall I speak to such a one as thouOf an intense and all-believing love,Betrayed, abandoned, trampled underfoot?Of pure and simple faith in one fair woman—Unswerving faith—faith, absolute and whole—And of the deadly agony that cameOf finding that well-trusted woman false?All the more false for the divine truth-promiseThat played upon her fair and placid brow;All the more false for the hot passion-vowsThat leaped, in hurried whispers, from her lips!I gave her all the wealth of my rich heart—I lived upon her love—I fed my lifeWith the sweet poison of her lying lipsIn utter trust. God help me!—one dark day,In the high noon of all my happiness,My heart upraised to heaven, in gratitudeFor the fair promise of our coming life,She left me, for a man whose proffered loveHad formed the theme of many an idle jest.But he was rich—and so—she went to him!At once the open volume of her lifeLay plain before me, and I read therein,That she was—womankind!Mad with the frenzy of a shipwrecked heart,And with the old fond test-words of our loveRinging a mocking echo through my brain,I cursed the world and all the women in it,And here sought sanctuary.Ans.Ah, my son,This haven from the tempests of the worldShould not be sought in bitterness of soul.Only the pious heart, turned heavenwardsFrom very love of heaven, will here find rest,Till Heaven, in its good time, shall garner it.But take good heart. I’ll talk with thee to-night,And, with the help of Heaven, give thee good counsel.Be comforted—the world without is hollow,As thou, in thine hot wrath, didst reckon it.Thy wrath had reason in’t. Be comforted![ExitAnselm.Faus.“Only the pious heart, turned heavenwardsFrom very love of heaven!” Fit formulaTo typify the fierce, embittered cynic,Who, in heart-misery, sought refuge here,As a poor, worried, over-hunted fox,Cursing his persecutors, runs to earthTo lick his bleeding flanks in sulky peace,And brood, in solitude, on men and dogs!No hope! no hope! no hope! For life entombed—For life cut off from life—a breathing man,Wrapped in a winding-sheet of his own weaving!A living heart, inurned and sepulchred!EnterGottfried, disguised as a monk.Gott.Good brother,pax vobiscum.Faus.Benedicite!Gott.Art thou the monk who, in the world without,Was known as Faustus?Faus.Ay, the very same.Gott.I am a travelling DominicanSent to thee by the Prior of our Order;Who, having heard much scandalous reportOf thy most heinous immoralities,Instructs me, with all friendly privacy,To urge thee to amend thy naughty life.Or, if thou findest this impossible(As there is reason to believe thou mayst),So to conceal and cloke thy wanton ways,That thou, at least, mayst seem to be a saint,And so afford no handle to the graspOf the all-watchful enemies of our Church.Faus.Strange mission, strangely worded, holy brother!What doth your Prior allege? And by what rightDares he to counsel such hypocrisy?Whence comes his information?Gott.From Sir Gottfried,A very blameless, pure, and godly knight;Who, once a boon companion of thy follies,Hath since repented, and indicted theeFor that, despite thy vows of continence,Thou livest the old life.Faus.Now, by the Truth,Never lied Gottfried thus!Gott.Nay, by the Truth,I speak his very words—and here’s the proof![Throws off his robe, and appears as a young soldier.Faus.Gottfried! Is this indeed my dear old friend?Gott.The same indeed. Bound for the wars again!My troop of horse is passing through the town,And hearing that thou wast within these walls,I asked for thee. A bearded brother came,And with scant courtesy, he bade me waitThy leisure in the great refectory.There, much perplexed to know with what addressI might most ceremoniously greetSo eminent a theologian,I saw this rag-bag hanging on a peg—Thou knowest the rest.Faus.I am rejoiced to see thee,Despite thy ill-timed jest.Gott.And this Faustus!The old dare-devil Faustus! Marvellous!When last I saw thee, thou wast bravely cladIn coat of cramoisie, and by thy sideThere swung the readiest rapier in the town!Faus.Hush, hush, these vanities are past and gone,And many others with them!Gott.By-the-by,There was a black-eyed wench—a plump brown rogue,With full red lips, and twinkling ankles, too—Dost recollect her ankles? No?Ido!Let’s see—her name. What was the wench’s name?Has she gone with the other vanities?Faus.I prithee stop thy tongue. I loved the girlAnd she was false to me. My heart died out.I sickened of the world and woman’s love,And here sought refuge.Gott.Oh, for shame! for shame!To hold the world to be a hollow worldBecause one heart has proved a hollow heart!Now hear a parable. But ten days since,A swindling huckster gave me a bad ducat;Now, by my head, I thought that ducat good:It seemed so fair and bright—and as it layUpon my open palm, I read thereonA pious legend, drawn from Holy Writ!Believing that a ducat, wreathed aboutWith such a goodly warrant, could not lie,I loved that ducat, and I trusted it!Well, well, the ducat proved to be but base.With a deep sigh—for gold is scarce with me—I cast that ducat from me. But did I,On that account, forswearallducats? No!My love for ducats—and my need of them—Are just as keen as ever!Faus.Peace, old friend.I am a priest, who once forswore the worldBecause he thought all women false. Think youThat being priest, and sitting day by dayIn yon confessional,I have seen cause to hold my judgment cheap?Gott.Plague on thy judgments! Judgments ready-madeAre counterparts of garments ready-made,That fit some well, some ill, some not at all.I know a maiden, scarce eighteen years old,Fair as the apple-green of early dawn,Pure as the summer sun of southern heaven;A psalm incarnate—an embodied prayer,Not of the earth, yet dwelling thereupon;Nor yet of heaven—although her mission beTo teach mankind that heaven is worth the winning.I have seen sturdy brawlers sheath their bladesTo humbly doff their hats at her approach;And when she’s fairly out of hearing, thenDraw a long breath and go their ways in peace,As though the air were charged with loving-kindness.Rude gallants, in whose eyes all womankindAre but the subjects of licentious jest,Stand back abashed as Gretchen passes by,And hush their converse into decency.Young wanton girls weep tears of honest shame,And old men think of angels and the heavenThat is to crown their closing pilgrimage!Faus.(interested). Who is this maiden?Gott.My dead uncle’s child,An orphan, dwelling twenty leagues away.Faus.Thou lovest her?Gott.Ay, as I love the truth—As I love purity and innocence—As I love heaven and the good life to come!Faus.Well, well—go on—she is thy kinswoman.Thou hast a goodly presence—and I knowThy heart is honest. Thou hast told thy love?Gott.I, dare to speak of love to Gretchen? No!I’m a rough soldier—barrack-born and bred.My life’s a tavern life—- my closest friendsAre all rough soldiers; and the air I breatheReeks with unholy jests and fumes of wine!I, dare to speak of love to Gretchen? Why,My tongue would shrivel at the blasphemy!Faus.Why, what’s all this?Thou’rt going from her, and thou dost not dareTo tell her of thy love? She is the pearlOf maidenhood, and yet thy heart is faintBecauseshe is the pearl of maidenhood?Up, man! Take heart of grace! Thy love is honest,Thy face is fair—thine heart is true and sound—Thou art a soldier, marked for fair reward.Up, man! Take heart of grace! No fretting vowsStand betwixttheeand such an earthly heaven!To think that this most miserable manHas all this boundless treasure in his reach,And hesitates to grasp it! Up, faint heart!Come, boot and saddle, and away with thee,Ere some more daring and less worthy suitorStep in to take her from thee!Gott.(astonished).By my hand,’Twas Faustus spake then—not the holy friar!Faus.I spake as man to man—as friend to friend.I love thee; and if such a woman liveAs thou hast pictured, take her to thine heartWhile yet thou mayst. Had I loved such a oneI should not now be wearing out my lifeIn these sad solitudes!Gott.(sadly).There spake the heart,And not the lips.Faus.(recollecting himself). May Heaven pardon me!I knew not what I said!Gott.My dear old friend!Come, I must say farewell, my troop awaits me.We ride through Lutzen. I shall see her there.(Trumpet heard without.)“To horse!” Dost know the sound?Faus.(sighing).I know it well!Gott.I’ll warrant me thy trusty soldier-heartBounds as of old, despite thy monkish frock,At the old trumpet call!Faus.These things are past!May God protect thee in thine enterprise,And give thee safe and speedy conduct home.Gott.Amen to that. So, Faustus, fare thee well![ExitGottfried.Faus.He’s gone! gone forth to the fair, fruitful world:The world of life and love, the world of hope,Of open hearts and unchecked sympathies!Oh, foolish priest, misleading and misled,Poor trickster, ever duping, ever duped—Cheating thyself into a mad surrenderOf all that youth holds dearest: cheating othersInto blind trust of thy sincerity!Thou art a man—the world was made for men!Thou hast a heart—thy heart is idle here!A curse on all this maddening mummery,This life-long lie, this living catacomb!Earth, heaven, hell, whichever hears me now,Come to my call, and bring me back to life![Thunder, lightning;Mephistoappears.Faus.Merciful Heaven, defend me! Who art thou?What dost thou here, and what wouldst thou with me?Meph.You called me, and I came in hurried haste,Lest the two other powers whom you invokedShould be before me in the race.Faus.Who art thou?Meph.A travelling clock-cobbler, who repairsThe moral timepiece when it’s out of order.Faus.A truce to riddles.Meph.Then I’ll speak more plainlySome clocks are well made, some are roughly fashioned,And need much tinkering; springs weaken, snap,Wheels loosen, dust gets in, and time is lost;Men lose all faith, and put the liar byAs something worse than useless. I, clock-cobbler,Wind up the moral timepiece, make new faces,Repair this wheel, that spring, mend here, mend there;In short, I do my very best to makeA timepiece that has lost its characterPass for a trusty herald of the hour.Faus.Get thee behind me, for I know thee now,Despite thy fair disguise!Meph.Oh, pardon me,I’ve no disguise. This is my own fair form.I’m not the horrible embodimentYou doctors of the Church have painted me—A very Satyr, with a dragon’s tail—A nursemaid’s devil! Oh, shortsighted priests,My policy is to allure mankind,Not to repel them!Faus.What wouldst thou with me?Meph.A proper question! Why, you summoned me!It is a leading principle with meThat no one ever needs to call me twice.Faus.I spake in haste. I did not weigh my words.Meph.That may be, or it may not be. I haveA character for promptness to maintain,And can’t afford to risk my reputationOn the mere hazard that your words were idle.Faus.You’ve saved your character, and so depart—Prime cause of sin—accursed of God and man!Meph.Unjust—illogical! But you’re a Churchman.Prime cause of sin! Why, evil comes from good,As oft as good from evil. Motives? Pooh!Why, half the ills that vex mankind ariseFrom motives that are unimpeachable.Faus.If goodly seed, well sown, bear evil fruit,The fault is scarcely with the husbandman.Meph.But why sow any goodly seed at all,If evil may result from doing so?Faus.Why try to stop my sowing goodly seed,If it produce the crops that please you best?Meph.He’s hit the blot! This clear-cut brain of hisIs wasted in this world of half an acre!Cast off thy frock—come forth with me. The manWho can detect my sophisms at a glanceIs safe enough, without the galling chainsThat fetter him to prayer and solitude.Come forth with me;There’s a fair field without these gloomy wallsFor such a brain as thine—a merry world,Teeming with song and dance—a grateful world,Where gallant deed and brilliant enterpriseMeet with their due reward—a loving world,Where kindred hearts may chime in unison.Come forth with me!Faus.Peace—get thee hence away.My vows are taken!Meph.Ay, and so they are!Vows not to dream of the gay world without—Vows not to sigh for temporal vanities—Vows so to chasten, quell, and mortifyYour natural craving for a woman’s love,That it shall sicken, wither, starve and dieFrom lack of sustenance!Rare vows, and rarely kept, I make no doubt!Why, man, you break them every day you live;You break them when you weep upon the graveOf broken hopes and blighted sympathies—Of wrecked ambitions, and the hundred tombsThat crowd this solitary sepulchre!You break them when you let your memory looseTo revel in the rich, ripe luxuryOf luscious lips, soft cheeks and glancing eyes,The violet breath—the press of warm, soft hands,Or the crisp frettle of disordered hair,That wooed your flaming cheek, as, half ashamed,The maiden nestled, blushing, on your breast—And yet you plead your vows! Like some I knowWho pray for mankind in the aggregate,And damn them all in detail!Faus.Tempt me not.I left the world of women for these walls,Because I found a woman false as thou—I’ll not return.Meph.Illogical again.“As one is so are all.” Sound argument!You gather generals from particularsLike all your brood. Why, there’s no harm in women.Ididn’t make them! They’re my deadliest foes!Why, he who of his own unfettered willCuts himself off from pure communionWith blameless womanhood, withdraws himselfFrom a far holier influence than he findsWithin these sad and silent solitudes.Faus.Strange sentiments from such as thou!Meph.For thatWe devils, as you Churchmen please to call us,Are not the simple folk you take us for;We are shrewd fellows in our homely way,And look facts in the face. I know a maid,A fair and gentle girl—the pink and bloomOf all that’s loveliest in maidenhood,Whose simple truth and pure and blameless lifeHave done my cause more harm in eighteen yearsThan all the monks in Christendom can mend!Faus.Is this indeed the truth?Meph.Ay, though I tell it.Faus.If there live such a one as thou hast painted—A maiden—pure as the blue breath of heaven,Into whose virgin heart no dream of illHath ever crept—the bloom of whose pure lipsIs yet unbrushed by man’s polluting touch;Whose life is open as the very truth—A perfect type of blameless maidenhood,Take me to her, and Iwilllearn of her.Meph.Humph! No, I’d rather not.Faus.And why?Meph.You see,We devils have our consciences. In viceWe can do nearly all that man can do,But not quite all. There are some forms of sinFrom which we shrink—and this is one of them.I have no stomach for such worldly work.Best get a man to help you.Faus.Mocking fiend,Misjudge me not. As there’s a heaven and hell,I mean the maid no wrong. I’ll take thy help,If thou wilt give it me. But be forewarned;I’ll make no compact with thee. Set me free,And I will fight thee with the holy aidOf her pure innocence. Be thou forewarned.Meph.I like your frankness! Well, you’re not the firstWho’s tried to rise to heaven on my shoulders!Humph! I don’t know. I am a match foryou.But, you and she allied! The odds are heavy!Well, I’m a student still, and always gladTo glean experience when and how I can.I’m curious to see how this will end;Ifforme—good; but if against me—well,I shall but loseyou, and you’re no great stake.And so I’ll risk it. See! The maiden comes![A vision ofGretchenis seen, gliding across the stage, through the tombstones; she is reading a breviary.Faus.(entranced). Great grace of Heaven!Is this indeed a form of mortal mould?Speak, tempter, speak!Meph.Ay, flesh and blood, like yours,Taken, haphazard, from a world of women!How say you? Is she not exceeding fair?Is there not innocence in every lineOf that pure, face? Is aught more virginalThan the sweet sadness of those downcast eyesBent on her breviary? And yet withal,There is a wondrous world of latent loveWithin that maiden heart. The girl will loveAs few can love, when the full time arrives;So take good heed, deal gently with the maid,Or harm may come of it—and that were pity!Faus.If there be truth in heaven, there’s truth in her!If there be heaven on earth, there’s heaven here!Meph.Ay, verily! Why, when I look on her,I’m almost tempted to turn saint myself;What would the world do then! Well, what say you?The choice is well before you. On one hand,Quibbling chop-logic—lip and letter worship—Flesh idly mortified—unreasoning dogma—The shallow sophistries of means and end—Straws split, and split, and split, and split again—Each section in itself infallible,And all dissentients damned! And on the other,Peace, charity, and mercy, simple faith,Gentle good-will and loving kindliness.Come, priest, what say you? Quick—my time is short.[The apparition raises her eyes from her book and turns toFaustus, holding out her hand to him.Faus.Spirit of peace—divine embodiment—Henceforth be thou my faith—be thou my Church!Be thou my guide, my hope, my monitress!Henceforth the beacon-light of thy pure soulShall shed its light upon my onward path,And I will follow whither it may lead!Spirit of purity, I come to thee!

Scene.—Under the cloisters of a monastery. In the centre of the stage a graveyard; in the graveyard, conspicuous among other tombs, is a tall monument. Procession ofMonkscrosses the stage at back. Moonlight.Dominicdiscovered seated, reading. To him entersAnselm.Dom.Pax vobiscum, father!Ans.Benedicite!I am rejoiced that, after many perilsBy sea and land, I am once more among you.How fares our poor sick Faustus?Dom.By Heaven’s grace,He is, in body, well—yet much I fearThere lies some hidden canker at his soul.When he was prostrate on a fevered bed,The utterings of his deliriumWere rather those of some base man of sin,Than of a holy father, vowed to heaven.Ans.Thy news is grave indeed; but knowest thou thisOf thine own knowledge?Dom.Ay, in truth I do.I took my turn with others at his bed,And all who watched him made the same report.When the delirium was at its worstHis fevered brain was filled with worldly dreams,And seemed to revel in the guilty joysThat he for once and all had long forsworn.Now at a gaming table, flushed with wine,And swearing roundly that the dice were loaded;Now at a drunken revel, trolling forthUngodly songs that set mine ears ablaze;Now at the chase; now breathing words of loveInto the ears of some fair wanton; thenInvoking curses on her wantonness!Ans.But spake he never of the holy lifeThat he is sworn to lead?Dom.Nay, never once,Unless it were to curse the evil hasteThat led him to it.Ans.It affects me muchTo hear these tidings of our well-loved Faustus.I knew that, ere he took his holy vows,He led a life of sin, and for that causeI more rejoiced his heart had turned to grace.But, see, he comes. Leave me alone with him.I’ll speak to him as father speaks to son.Dom.May Heaven speed thy work.[ExitDominic.EnterFaustus.Ans.Come hither, son.The kindly brothers who attended theeIn thy delirium have no light causeTo think that, though thy priestly ministriesAre to the letter faithfully performed,Thy heart is bent on worldly matters still.Faus.Of what do they complain? Can any sayThat I have failed in my observances?That I have spoken ill of any man?That I live not a chaste and sober life?That I am loth to pray with dead and dying?Are not my priestly duties well discharged?Ans.Would that all priests within these sacred wallsTook thee for an ensample in these matters.But who can read the inmost heart of man?The lips may move in prayer, and but the lips.Speak to me frankly—tell me by what meansThou wast induced to quit the world without,Its fleeting pleasures and its lasting pains,For the pure calm of these monastic shades?Faus.Oh, father, holy father, bear with me,My heart is very sore!Ans.Come—tell me all,Fear nothing; speak to me as to thyself.Faus.How shall I speak to such a one as thouOf an intense and all-believing love,Betrayed, abandoned, trampled underfoot?Of pure and simple faith in one fair woman—Unswerving faith—faith, absolute and whole—And of the deadly agony that cameOf finding that well-trusted woman false?All the more false for the divine truth-promiseThat played upon her fair and placid brow;All the more false for the hot passion-vowsThat leaped, in hurried whispers, from her lips!I gave her all the wealth of my rich heart—I lived upon her love—I fed my lifeWith the sweet poison of her lying lipsIn utter trust. God help me!—one dark day,In the high noon of all my happiness,My heart upraised to heaven, in gratitudeFor the fair promise of our coming life,She left me, for a man whose proffered loveHad formed the theme of many an idle jest.But he was rich—and so—she went to him!At once the open volume of her lifeLay plain before me, and I read therein,That she was—womankind!Mad with the frenzy of a shipwrecked heart,And with the old fond test-words of our loveRinging a mocking echo through my brain,I cursed the world and all the women in it,And here sought sanctuary.Ans.Ah, my son,This haven from the tempests of the worldShould not be sought in bitterness of soul.Only the pious heart, turned heavenwardsFrom very love of heaven, will here find rest,Till Heaven, in its good time, shall garner it.But take good heart. I’ll talk with thee to-night,And, with the help of Heaven, give thee good counsel.Be comforted—the world without is hollow,As thou, in thine hot wrath, didst reckon it.Thy wrath had reason in’t. Be comforted![ExitAnselm.Faus.“Only the pious heart, turned heavenwardsFrom very love of heaven!” Fit formulaTo typify the fierce, embittered cynic,Who, in heart-misery, sought refuge here,As a poor, worried, over-hunted fox,Cursing his persecutors, runs to earthTo lick his bleeding flanks in sulky peace,And brood, in solitude, on men and dogs!No hope! no hope! no hope! For life entombed—For life cut off from life—a breathing man,Wrapped in a winding-sheet of his own weaving!A living heart, inurned and sepulchred!EnterGottfried, disguised as a monk.Gott.Good brother,pax vobiscum.Faus.Benedicite!Gott.Art thou the monk who, in the world without,Was known as Faustus?Faus.Ay, the very same.Gott.I am a travelling DominicanSent to thee by the Prior of our Order;Who, having heard much scandalous reportOf thy most heinous immoralities,Instructs me, with all friendly privacy,To urge thee to amend thy naughty life.Or, if thou findest this impossible(As there is reason to believe thou mayst),So to conceal and cloke thy wanton ways,That thou, at least, mayst seem to be a saint,And so afford no handle to the graspOf the all-watchful enemies of our Church.Faus.Strange mission, strangely worded, holy brother!What doth your Prior allege? And by what rightDares he to counsel such hypocrisy?Whence comes his information?Gott.From Sir Gottfried,A very blameless, pure, and godly knight;Who, once a boon companion of thy follies,Hath since repented, and indicted theeFor that, despite thy vows of continence,Thou livest the old life.Faus.Now, by the Truth,Never lied Gottfried thus!Gott.Nay, by the Truth,I speak his very words—and here’s the proof![Throws off his robe, and appears as a young soldier.Faus.Gottfried! Is this indeed my dear old friend?Gott.The same indeed. Bound for the wars again!My troop of horse is passing through the town,And hearing that thou wast within these walls,I asked for thee. A bearded brother came,And with scant courtesy, he bade me waitThy leisure in the great refectory.There, much perplexed to know with what addressI might most ceremoniously greetSo eminent a theologian,I saw this rag-bag hanging on a peg—Thou knowest the rest.Faus.I am rejoiced to see thee,Despite thy ill-timed jest.Gott.And this Faustus!The old dare-devil Faustus! Marvellous!When last I saw thee, thou wast bravely cladIn coat of cramoisie, and by thy sideThere swung the readiest rapier in the town!Faus.Hush, hush, these vanities are past and gone,And many others with them!Gott.By-the-by,There was a black-eyed wench—a plump brown rogue,With full red lips, and twinkling ankles, too—Dost recollect her ankles? No?Ido!Let’s see—her name. What was the wench’s name?Has she gone with the other vanities?Faus.I prithee stop thy tongue. I loved the girlAnd she was false to me. My heart died out.I sickened of the world and woman’s love,And here sought refuge.Gott.Oh, for shame! for shame!To hold the world to be a hollow worldBecause one heart has proved a hollow heart!Now hear a parable. But ten days since,A swindling huckster gave me a bad ducat;Now, by my head, I thought that ducat good:It seemed so fair and bright—and as it layUpon my open palm, I read thereonA pious legend, drawn from Holy Writ!Believing that a ducat, wreathed aboutWith such a goodly warrant, could not lie,I loved that ducat, and I trusted it!Well, well, the ducat proved to be but base.With a deep sigh—for gold is scarce with me—I cast that ducat from me. But did I,On that account, forswearallducats? No!My love for ducats—and my need of them—Are just as keen as ever!Faus.Peace, old friend.I am a priest, who once forswore the worldBecause he thought all women false. Think youThat being priest, and sitting day by dayIn yon confessional,I have seen cause to hold my judgment cheap?Gott.Plague on thy judgments! Judgments ready-madeAre counterparts of garments ready-made,That fit some well, some ill, some not at all.I know a maiden, scarce eighteen years old,Fair as the apple-green of early dawn,Pure as the summer sun of southern heaven;A psalm incarnate—an embodied prayer,Not of the earth, yet dwelling thereupon;Nor yet of heaven—although her mission beTo teach mankind that heaven is worth the winning.I have seen sturdy brawlers sheath their bladesTo humbly doff their hats at her approach;And when she’s fairly out of hearing, thenDraw a long breath and go their ways in peace,As though the air were charged with loving-kindness.Rude gallants, in whose eyes all womankindAre but the subjects of licentious jest,Stand back abashed as Gretchen passes by,And hush their converse into decency.Young wanton girls weep tears of honest shame,And old men think of angels and the heavenThat is to crown their closing pilgrimage!Faus.(interested). Who is this maiden?Gott.My dead uncle’s child,An orphan, dwelling twenty leagues away.Faus.Thou lovest her?Gott.Ay, as I love the truth—As I love purity and innocence—As I love heaven and the good life to come!Faus.Well, well—go on—she is thy kinswoman.Thou hast a goodly presence—and I knowThy heart is honest. Thou hast told thy love?Gott.I, dare to speak of love to Gretchen? No!I’m a rough soldier—barrack-born and bred.My life’s a tavern life—- my closest friendsAre all rough soldiers; and the air I breatheReeks with unholy jests and fumes of wine!I, dare to speak of love to Gretchen? Why,My tongue would shrivel at the blasphemy!Faus.Why, what’s all this?Thou’rt going from her, and thou dost not dareTo tell her of thy love? She is the pearlOf maidenhood, and yet thy heart is faintBecauseshe is the pearl of maidenhood?Up, man! Take heart of grace! Thy love is honest,Thy face is fair—thine heart is true and sound—Thou art a soldier, marked for fair reward.Up, man! Take heart of grace! No fretting vowsStand betwixttheeand such an earthly heaven!To think that this most miserable manHas all this boundless treasure in his reach,And hesitates to grasp it! Up, faint heart!Come, boot and saddle, and away with thee,Ere some more daring and less worthy suitorStep in to take her from thee!Gott.(astonished).By my hand,’Twas Faustus spake then—not the holy friar!Faus.I spake as man to man—as friend to friend.I love thee; and if such a woman liveAs thou hast pictured, take her to thine heartWhile yet thou mayst. Had I loved such a oneI should not now be wearing out my lifeIn these sad solitudes!Gott.(sadly).There spake the heart,And not the lips.Faus.(recollecting himself). May Heaven pardon me!I knew not what I said!Gott.My dear old friend!Come, I must say farewell, my troop awaits me.We ride through Lutzen. I shall see her there.(Trumpet heard without.)“To horse!” Dost know the sound?Faus.(sighing).I know it well!Gott.I’ll warrant me thy trusty soldier-heartBounds as of old, despite thy monkish frock,At the old trumpet call!Faus.These things are past!May God protect thee in thine enterprise,And give thee safe and speedy conduct home.Gott.Amen to that. So, Faustus, fare thee well![ExitGottfried.Faus.He’s gone! gone forth to the fair, fruitful world:The world of life and love, the world of hope,Of open hearts and unchecked sympathies!Oh, foolish priest, misleading and misled,Poor trickster, ever duping, ever duped—Cheating thyself into a mad surrenderOf all that youth holds dearest: cheating othersInto blind trust of thy sincerity!Thou art a man—the world was made for men!Thou hast a heart—thy heart is idle here!A curse on all this maddening mummery,This life-long lie, this living catacomb!Earth, heaven, hell, whichever hears me now,Come to my call, and bring me back to life![Thunder, lightning;Mephistoappears.Faus.Merciful Heaven, defend me! Who art thou?What dost thou here, and what wouldst thou with me?Meph.You called me, and I came in hurried haste,Lest the two other powers whom you invokedShould be before me in the race.Faus.Who art thou?Meph.A travelling clock-cobbler, who repairsThe moral timepiece when it’s out of order.Faus.A truce to riddles.Meph.Then I’ll speak more plainlySome clocks are well made, some are roughly fashioned,And need much tinkering; springs weaken, snap,Wheels loosen, dust gets in, and time is lost;Men lose all faith, and put the liar byAs something worse than useless. I, clock-cobbler,Wind up the moral timepiece, make new faces,Repair this wheel, that spring, mend here, mend there;In short, I do my very best to makeA timepiece that has lost its characterPass for a trusty herald of the hour.Faus.Get thee behind me, for I know thee now,Despite thy fair disguise!Meph.Oh, pardon me,I’ve no disguise. This is my own fair form.I’m not the horrible embodimentYou doctors of the Church have painted me—A very Satyr, with a dragon’s tail—A nursemaid’s devil! Oh, shortsighted priests,My policy is to allure mankind,Not to repel them!Faus.What wouldst thou with me?Meph.A proper question! Why, you summoned me!It is a leading principle with meThat no one ever needs to call me twice.Faus.I spake in haste. I did not weigh my words.Meph.That may be, or it may not be. I haveA character for promptness to maintain,And can’t afford to risk my reputationOn the mere hazard that your words were idle.Faus.You’ve saved your character, and so depart—Prime cause of sin—accursed of God and man!Meph.Unjust—illogical! But you’re a Churchman.Prime cause of sin! Why, evil comes from good,As oft as good from evil. Motives? Pooh!Why, half the ills that vex mankind ariseFrom motives that are unimpeachable.Faus.If goodly seed, well sown, bear evil fruit,The fault is scarcely with the husbandman.Meph.But why sow any goodly seed at all,If evil may result from doing so?Faus.Why try to stop my sowing goodly seed,If it produce the crops that please you best?Meph.He’s hit the blot! This clear-cut brain of hisIs wasted in this world of half an acre!Cast off thy frock—come forth with me. The manWho can detect my sophisms at a glanceIs safe enough, without the galling chainsThat fetter him to prayer and solitude.Come forth with me;There’s a fair field without these gloomy wallsFor such a brain as thine—a merry world,Teeming with song and dance—a grateful world,Where gallant deed and brilliant enterpriseMeet with their due reward—a loving world,Where kindred hearts may chime in unison.Come forth with me!Faus.Peace—get thee hence away.My vows are taken!Meph.Ay, and so they are!Vows not to dream of the gay world without—Vows not to sigh for temporal vanities—Vows so to chasten, quell, and mortifyYour natural craving for a woman’s love,That it shall sicken, wither, starve and dieFrom lack of sustenance!Rare vows, and rarely kept, I make no doubt!Why, man, you break them every day you live;You break them when you weep upon the graveOf broken hopes and blighted sympathies—Of wrecked ambitions, and the hundred tombsThat crowd this solitary sepulchre!You break them when you let your memory looseTo revel in the rich, ripe luxuryOf luscious lips, soft cheeks and glancing eyes,The violet breath—the press of warm, soft hands,Or the crisp frettle of disordered hair,That wooed your flaming cheek, as, half ashamed,The maiden nestled, blushing, on your breast—And yet you plead your vows! Like some I knowWho pray for mankind in the aggregate,And damn them all in detail!Faus.Tempt me not.I left the world of women for these walls,Because I found a woman false as thou—I’ll not return.Meph.Illogical again.“As one is so are all.” Sound argument!You gather generals from particularsLike all your brood. Why, there’s no harm in women.Ididn’t make them! They’re my deadliest foes!Why, he who of his own unfettered willCuts himself off from pure communionWith blameless womanhood, withdraws himselfFrom a far holier influence than he findsWithin these sad and silent solitudes.Faus.Strange sentiments from such as thou!Meph.For thatWe devils, as you Churchmen please to call us,Are not the simple folk you take us for;We are shrewd fellows in our homely way,And look facts in the face. I know a maid,A fair and gentle girl—the pink and bloomOf all that’s loveliest in maidenhood,Whose simple truth and pure and blameless lifeHave done my cause more harm in eighteen yearsThan all the monks in Christendom can mend!Faus.Is this indeed the truth?Meph.Ay, though I tell it.Faus.If there live such a one as thou hast painted—A maiden—pure as the blue breath of heaven,Into whose virgin heart no dream of illHath ever crept—the bloom of whose pure lipsIs yet unbrushed by man’s polluting touch;Whose life is open as the very truth—A perfect type of blameless maidenhood,Take me to her, and Iwilllearn of her.Meph.Humph! No, I’d rather not.Faus.And why?Meph.You see,We devils have our consciences. In viceWe can do nearly all that man can do,But not quite all. There are some forms of sinFrom which we shrink—and this is one of them.I have no stomach for such worldly work.Best get a man to help you.Faus.Mocking fiend,Misjudge me not. As there’s a heaven and hell,I mean the maid no wrong. I’ll take thy help,If thou wilt give it me. But be forewarned;I’ll make no compact with thee. Set me free,And I will fight thee with the holy aidOf her pure innocence. Be thou forewarned.Meph.I like your frankness! Well, you’re not the firstWho’s tried to rise to heaven on my shoulders!Humph! I don’t know. I am a match foryou.But, you and she allied! The odds are heavy!Well, I’m a student still, and always gladTo glean experience when and how I can.I’m curious to see how this will end;Ifforme—good; but if against me—well,I shall but loseyou, and you’re no great stake.And so I’ll risk it. See! The maiden comes![A vision ofGretchenis seen, gliding across the stage, through the tombstones; she is reading a breviary.Faus.(entranced). Great grace of Heaven!Is this indeed a form of mortal mould?Speak, tempter, speak!Meph.Ay, flesh and blood, like yours,Taken, haphazard, from a world of women!How say you? Is she not exceeding fair?Is there not innocence in every lineOf that pure, face? Is aught more virginalThan the sweet sadness of those downcast eyesBent on her breviary? And yet withal,There is a wondrous world of latent loveWithin that maiden heart. The girl will loveAs few can love, when the full time arrives;So take good heed, deal gently with the maid,Or harm may come of it—and that were pity!Faus.If there be truth in heaven, there’s truth in her!If there be heaven on earth, there’s heaven here!Meph.Ay, verily! Why, when I look on her,I’m almost tempted to turn saint myself;What would the world do then! Well, what say you?The choice is well before you. On one hand,Quibbling chop-logic—lip and letter worship—Flesh idly mortified—unreasoning dogma—The shallow sophistries of means and end—Straws split, and split, and split, and split again—Each section in itself infallible,And all dissentients damned! And on the other,Peace, charity, and mercy, simple faith,Gentle good-will and loving kindliness.Come, priest, what say you? Quick—my time is short.[The apparition raises her eyes from her book and turns toFaustus, holding out her hand to him.Faus.Spirit of peace—divine embodiment—Henceforth be thou my faith—be thou my Church!Be thou my guide, my hope, my monitress!Henceforth the beacon-light of thy pure soulShall shed its light upon my onward path,And I will follow whither it may lead!Spirit of purity, I come to thee!

Dominicdiscovered seated, reading. To him entersAnselm.

Dom.Pax vobiscum, father!

Ans.Benedicite!I am rejoiced that, after many perilsBy sea and land, I am once more among you.How fares our poor sick Faustus?

Ans.Benedicite!

I am rejoiced that, after many perils

By sea and land, I am once more among you.

How fares our poor sick Faustus?

Dom.By Heaven’s grace,He is, in body, well—yet much I fearThere lies some hidden canker at his soul.When he was prostrate on a fevered bed,The utterings of his deliriumWere rather those of some base man of sin,Than of a holy father, vowed to heaven.

Dom.By Heaven’s grace,

He is, in body, well—yet much I fear

There lies some hidden canker at his soul.

When he was prostrate on a fevered bed,

The utterings of his delirium

Were rather those of some base man of sin,

Than of a holy father, vowed to heaven.

Ans.Thy news is grave indeed; but knowest thou thisOf thine own knowledge?

Ans.Thy news is grave indeed; but knowest thou this

Of thine own knowledge?

Dom.Ay, in truth I do.I took my turn with others at his bed,And all who watched him made the same report.When the delirium was at its worstHis fevered brain was filled with worldly dreams,And seemed to revel in the guilty joysThat he for once and all had long forsworn.Now at a gaming table, flushed with wine,And swearing roundly that the dice were loaded;Now at a drunken revel, trolling forthUngodly songs that set mine ears ablaze;Now at the chase; now breathing words of loveInto the ears of some fair wanton; thenInvoking curses on her wantonness!

Dom.Ay, in truth I do.

I took my turn with others at his bed,

And all who watched him made the same report.

When the delirium was at its worst

His fevered brain was filled with worldly dreams,

And seemed to revel in the guilty joys

That he for once and all had long forsworn.

Now at a gaming table, flushed with wine,

And swearing roundly that the dice were loaded;

Now at a drunken revel, trolling forth

Ungodly songs that set mine ears ablaze;

Now at the chase; now breathing words of love

Into the ears of some fair wanton; then

Invoking curses on her wantonness!

Ans.But spake he never of the holy lifeThat he is sworn to lead?

Ans.But spake he never of the holy life

That he is sworn to lead?

Dom.Nay, never once,Unless it were to curse the evil hasteThat led him to it.

Dom.Nay, never once,

Unless it were to curse the evil haste

That led him to it.

Ans.It affects me muchTo hear these tidings of our well-loved Faustus.I knew that, ere he took his holy vows,He led a life of sin, and for that causeI more rejoiced his heart had turned to grace.But, see, he comes. Leave me alone with him.I’ll speak to him as father speaks to son.

Ans.It affects me much

To hear these tidings of our well-loved Faustus.

I knew that, ere he took his holy vows,

He led a life of sin, and for that cause

I more rejoiced his heart had turned to grace.

But, see, he comes. Leave me alone with him.

I’ll speak to him as father speaks to son.

Dom.May Heaven speed thy work.[ExitDominic.

Dom.May Heaven speed thy work.

[ExitDominic.

EnterFaustus.

Ans.Come hither, son.The kindly brothers who attended theeIn thy delirium have no light causeTo think that, though thy priestly ministriesAre to the letter faithfully performed,Thy heart is bent on worldly matters still.

Ans.Come hither, son.

The kindly brothers who attended thee

In thy delirium have no light cause

To think that, though thy priestly ministries

Are to the letter faithfully performed,

Thy heart is bent on worldly matters still.

Faus.Of what do they complain? Can any sayThat I have failed in my observances?That I have spoken ill of any man?That I live not a chaste and sober life?That I am loth to pray with dead and dying?Are not my priestly duties well discharged?

Faus.Of what do they complain? Can any say

That I have failed in my observances?

That I have spoken ill of any man?

That I live not a chaste and sober life?

That I am loth to pray with dead and dying?

Are not my priestly duties well discharged?

Ans.Would that all priests within these sacred wallsTook thee for an ensample in these matters.But who can read the inmost heart of man?The lips may move in prayer, and but the lips.Speak to me frankly—tell me by what meansThou wast induced to quit the world without,Its fleeting pleasures and its lasting pains,For the pure calm of these monastic shades?

Ans.Would that all priests within these sacred walls

Took thee for an ensample in these matters.

But who can read the inmost heart of man?

The lips may move in prayer, and but the lips.

Speak to me frankly—tell me by what means

Thou wast induced to quit the world without,

Its fleeting pleasures and its lasting pains,

For the pure calm of these monastic shades?

Faus.Oh, father, holy father, bear with me,My heart is very sore!

Faus.Oh, father, holy father, bear with me,

My heart is very sore!

Ans.Come—tell me all,Fear nothing; speak to me as to thyself.

Ans.Come—tell me all,

Fear nothing; speak to me as to thyself.

Faus.How shall I speak to such a one as thouOf an intense and all-believing love,Betrayed, abandoned, trampled underfoot?Of pure and simple faith in one fair woman—Unswerving faith—faith, absolute and whole—And of the deadly agony that cameOf finding that well-trusted woman false?All the more false for the divine truth-promiseThat played upon her fair and placid brow;All the more false for the hot passion-vowsThat leaped, in hurried whispers, from her lips!I gave her all the wealth of my rich heart—I lived upon her love—I fed my lifeWith the sweet poison of her lying lipsIn utter trust. God help me!—one dark day,In the high noon of all my happiness,My heart upraised to heaven, in gratitudeFor the fair promise of our coming life,She left me, for a man whose proffered loveHad formed the theme of many an idle jest.But he was rich—and so—she went to him!At once the open volume of her lifeLay plain before me, and I read therein,That she was—womankind!Mad with the frenzy of a shipwrecked heart,And with the old fond test-words of our loveRinging a mocking echo through my brain,I cursed the world and all the women in it,And here sought sanctuary.

Faus.How shall I speak to such a one as thou

Of an intense and all-believing love,

Betrayed, abandoned, trampled underfoot?

Of pure and simple faith in one fair woman—

Unswerving faith—faith, absolute and whole—

And of the deadly agony that came

Of finding that well-trusted woman false?

All the more false for the divine truth-promise

That played upon her fair and placid brow;

All the more false for the hot passion-vows

That leaped, in hurried whispers, from her lips!

I gave her all the wealth of my rich heart—

I lived upon her love—I fed my life

With the sweet poison of her lying lips

In utter trust. God help me!—one dark day,

In the high noon of all my happiness,

My heart upraised to heaven, in gratitude

For the fair promise of our coming life,

She left me, for a man whose proffered love

Had formed the theme of many an idle jest.

But he was rich—and so—she went to him!

At once the open volume of her life

Lay plain before me, and I read therein,

That she was—womankind!

Mad with the frenzy of a shipwrecked heart,

And with the old fond test-words of our love

Ringing a mocking echo through my brain,

I cursed the world and all the women in it,

And here sought sanctuary.

Ans.Ah, my son,This haven from the tempests of the worldShould not be sought in bitterness of soul.Only the pious heart, turned heavenwardsFrom very love of heaven, will here find rest,Till Heaven, in its good time, shall garner it.But take good heart. I’ll talk with thee to-night,And, with the help of Heaven, give thee good counsel.Be comforted—the world without is hollow,As thou, in thine hot wrath, didst reckon it.Thy wrath had reason in’t. Be comforted![ExitAnselm.

Ans.Ah, my son,

This haven from the tempests of the world

Should not be sought in bitterness of soul.

Only the pious heart, turned heavenwards

From very love of heaven, will here find rest,

Till Heaven, in its good time, shall garner it.

But take good heart. I’ll talk with thee to-night,

And, with the help of Heaven, give thee good counsel.

Be comforted—the world without is hollow,

As thou, in thine hot wrath, didst reckon it.

Thy wrath had reason in’t. Be comforted!

[ExitAnselm.

Faus.“Only the pious heart, turned heavenwardsFrom very love of heaven!” Fit formulaTo typify the fierce, embittered cynic,Who, in heart-misery, sought refuge here,As a poor, worried, over-hunted fox,Cursing his persecutors, runs to earthTo lick his bleeding flanks in sulky peace,And brood, in solitude, on men and dogs!No hope! no hope! no hope! For life entombed—For life cut off from life—a breathing man,Wrapped in a winding-sheet of his own weaving!A living heart, inurned and sepulchred!

Faus.“Only the pious heart, turned heavenwards

From very love of heaven!” Fit formula

To typify the fierce, embittered cynic,

Who, in heart-misery, sought refuge here,

As a poor, worried, over-hunted fox,

Cursing his persecutors, runs to earth

To lick his bleeding flanks in sulky peace,

And brood, in solitude, on men and dogs!

No hope! no hope! no hope! For life entombed—

For life cut off from life—a breathing man,

Wrapped in a winding-sheet of his own weaving!

A living heart, inurned and sepulchred!

EnterGottfried, disguised as a monk.

Gott.Good brother,pax vobiscum.

Faus.Benedicite!

Gott.Art thou the monk who, in the world without,Was known as Faustus?

Gott.Art thou the monk who, in the world without,

Was known as Faustus?

Faus.Ay, the very same.

Gott.I am a travelling DominicanSent to thee by the Prior of our Order;Who, having heard much scandalous reportOf thy most heinous immoralities,Instructs me, with all friendly privacy,To urge thee to amend thy naughty life.Or, if thou findest this impossible(As there is reason to believe thou mayst),So to conceal and cloke thy wanton ways,That thou, at least, mayst seem to be a saint,And so afford no handle to the graspOf the all-watchful enemies of our Church.

Gott.I am a travelling Dominican

Sent to thee by the Prior of our Order;

Who, having heard much scandalous report

Of thy most heinous immoralities,

Instructs me, with all friendly privacy,

To urge thee to amend thy naughty life.

Or, if thou findest this impossible

(As there is reason to believe thou mayst),

So to conceal and cloke thy wanton ways,

That thou, at least, mayst seem to be a saint,

And so afford no handle to the grasp

Of the all-watchful enemies of our Church.

Faus.Strange mission, strangely worded, holy brother!What doth your Prior allege? And by what rightDares he to counsel such hypocrisy?Whence comes his information?

Faus.Strange mission, strangely worded, holy brother!

What doth your Prior allege? And by what right

Dares he to counsel such hypocrisy?

Whence comes his information?

Gott.From Sir Gottfried,A very blameless, pure, and godly knight;Who, once a boon companion of thy follies,Hath since repented, and indicted theeFor that, despite thy vows of continence,Thou livest the old life.

Gott.From Sir Gottfried,

A very blameless, pure, and godly knight;

Who, once a boon companion of thy follies,

Hath since repented, and indicted thee

For that, despite thy vows of continence,

Thou livest the old life.

Faus.Now, by the Truth,Never lied Gottfried thus!

Faus.Now, by the Truth,

Never lied Gottfried thus!

Gott.Nay, by the Truth,I speak his very words—and here’s the proof![Throws off his robe, and appears as a young soldier.

Gott.Nay, by the Truth,

I speak his very words—and here’s the proof!

[Throws off his robe, and appears as a young soldier.

Faus.Gottfried! Is this indeed my dear old friend?

Gott.The same indeed. Bound for the wars again!My troop of horse is passing through the town,And hearing that thou wast within these walls,I asked for thee. A bearded brother came,And with scant courtesy, he bade me waitThy leisure in the great refectory.There, much perplexed to know with what addressI might most ceremoniously greetSo eminent a theologian,I saw this rag-bag hanging on a peg—Thou knowest the rest.

Gott.The same indeed. Bound for the wars again!

My troop of horse is passing through the town,

And hearing that thou wast within these walls,

I asked for thee. A bearded brother came,

And with scant courtesy, he bade me wait

Thy leisure in the great refectory.

There, much perplexed to know with what address

I might most ceremoniously greet

So eminent a theologian,

I saw this rag-bag hanging on a peg—

Thou knowest the rest.

Faus.I am rejoiced to see thee,Despite thy ill-timed jest.

Faus.I am rejoiced to see thee,

Despite thy ill-timed jest.

Gott.And this Faustus!The old dare-devil Faustus! Marvellous!When last I saw thee, thou wast bravely cladIn coat of cramoisie, and by thy sideThere swung the readiest rapier in the town!

Gott.And this Faustus!

The old dare-devil Faustus! Marvellous!

When last I saw thee, thou wast bravely clad

In coat of cramoisie, and by thy side

There swung the readiest rapier in the town!

Faus.Hush, hush, these vanities are past and gone,And many others with them!

Faus.Hush, hush, these vanities are past and gone,

And many others with them!

Gott.By-the-by,There was a black-eyed wench—a plump brown rogue,With full red lips, and twinkling ankles, too—Dost recollect her ankles? No?Ido!Let’s see—her name. What was the wench’s name?Has she gone with the other vanities?

Gott.By-the-by,

There was a black-eyed wench—a plump brown rogue,

With full red lips, and twinkling ankles, too—

Dost recollect her ankles? No?Ido!

Let’s see—her name. What was the wench’s name?

Has she gone with the other vanities?

Faus.I prithee stop thy tongue. I loved the girlAnd she was false to me. My heart died out.I sickened of the world and woman’s love,And here sought refuge.

Faus.I prithee stop thy tongue. I loved the girl

And she was false to me. My heart died out.

I sickened of the world and woman’s love,

And here sought refuge.

Gott.Oh, for shame! for shame!To hold the world to be a hollow worldBecause one heart has proved a hollow heart!Now hear a parable. But ten days since,A swindling huckster gave me a bad ducat;Now, by my head, I thought that ducat good:It seemed so fair and bright—and as it layUpon my open palm, I read thereonA pious legend, drawn from Holy Writ!Believing that a ducat, wreathed aboutWith such a goodly warrant, could not lie,I loved that ducat, and I trusted it!Well, well, the ducat proved to be but base.With a deep sigh—for gold is scarce with me—I cast that ducat from me. But did I,On that account, forswearallducats? No!My love for ducats—and my need of them—Are just as keen as ever!

Gott.Oh, for shame! for shame!

To hold the world to be a hollow world

Because one heart has proved a hollow heart!

Now hear a parable. But ten days since,

A swindling huckster gave me a bad ducat;

Now, by my head, I thought that ducat good:

It seemed so fair and bright—and as it lay

Upon my open palm, I read thereon

A pious legend, drawn from Holy Writ!

Believing that a ducat, wreathed about

With such a goodly warrant, could not lie,

I loved that ducat, and I trusted it!

Well, well, the ducat proved to be but base.

With a deep sigh—for gold is scarce with me—

I cast that ducat from me. But did I,

On that account, forswearallducats? No!

My love for ducats—and my need of them—

Are just as keen as ever!

Faus.Peace, old friend.I am a priest, who once forswore the worldBecause he thought all women false. Think youThat being priest, and sitting day by dayIn yon confessional,I have seen cause to hold my judgment cheap?

Faus.Peace, old friend.

I am a priest, who once forswore the world

Because he thought all women false. Think you

That being priest, and sitting day by day

In yon confessional,

I have seen cause to hold my judgment cheap?

Gott.Plague on thy judgments! Judgments ready-madeAre counterparts of garments ready-made,That fit some well, some ill, some not at all.I know a maiden, scarce eighteen years old,Fair as the apple-green of early dawn,Pure as the summer sun of southern heaven;A psalm incarnate—an embodied prayer,Not of the earth, yet dwelling thereupon;Nor yet of heaven—although her mission beTo teach mankind that heaven is worth the winning.I have seen sturdy brawlers sheath their bladesTo humbly doff their hats at her approach;And when she’s fairly out of hearing, thenDraw a long breath and go their ways in peace,As though the air were charged with loving-kindness.Rude gallants, in whose eyes all womankindAre but the subjects of licentious jest,Stand back abashed as Gretchen passes by,And hush their converse into decency.Young wanton girls weep tears of honest shame,And old men think of angels and the heavenThat is to crown their closing pilgrimage!

Gott.Plague on thy judgments! Judgments ready-made

Are counterparts of garments ready-made,

That fit some well, some ill, some not at all.

I know a maiden, scarce eighteen years old,

Fair as the apple-green of early dawn,

Pure as the summer sun of southern heaven;

A psalm incarnate—an embodied prayer,

Not of the earth, yet dwelling thereupon;

Nor yet of heaven—although her mission be

To teach mankind that heaven is worth the winning.

I have seen sturdy brawlers sheath their blades

To humbly doff their hats at her approach;

And when she’s fairly out of hearing, then

Draw a long breath and go their ways in peace,

As though the air were charged with loving-kindness.

Rude gallants, in whose eyes all womankind

Are but the subjects of licentious jest,

Stand back abashed as Gretchen passes by,

And hush their converse into decency.

Young wanton girls weep tears of honest shame,

And old men think of angels and the heaven

That is to crown their closing pilgrimage!

Faus.(interested). Who is this maiden?

Gott.My dead uncle’s child,An orphan, dwelling twenty leagues away.

Gott.My dead uncle’s child,

An orphan, dwelling twenty leagues away.

Faus.Thou lovest her?

Gott.Ay, as I love the truth—As I love purity and innocence—As I love heaven and the good life to come!

Gott.Ay, as I love the truth—

As I love purity and innocence—

As I love heaven and the good life to come!

Faus.Well, well—go on—she is thy kinswoman.Thou hast a goodly presence—and I knowThy heart is honest. Thou hast told thy love?

Faus.Well, well—go on—she is thy kinswoman.

Thou hast a goodly presence—and I know

Thy heart is honest. Thou hast told thy love?

Gott.I, dare to speak of love to Gretchen? No!I’m a rough soldier—barrack-born and bred.My life’s a tavern life—- my closest friendsAre all rough soldiers; and the air I breatheReeks with unholy jests and fumes of wine!I, dare to speak of love to Gretchen? Why,My tongue would shrivel at the blasphemy!

Gott.I, dare to speak of love to Gretchen? No!

I’m a rough soldier—barrack-born and bred.

My life’s a tavern life—- my closest friends

Are all rough soldiers; and the air I breathe

Reeks with unholy jests and fumes of wine!

I, dare to speak of love to Gretchen? Why,

My tongue would shrivel at the blasphemy!

Faus.Why, what’s all this?Thou’rt going from her, and thou dost not dareTo tell her of thy love? She is the pearlOf maidenhood, and yet thy heart is faintBecauseshe is the pearl of maidenhood?Up, man! Take heart of grace! Thy love is honest,Thy face is fair—thine heart is true and sound—Thou art a soldier, marked for fair reward.Up, man! Take heart of grace! No fretting vowsStand betwixttheeand such an earthly heaven!To think that this most miserable manHas all this boundless treasure in his reach,And hesitates to grasp it! Up, faint heart!Come, boot and saddle, and away with thee,Ere some more daring and less worthy suitorStep in to take her from thee!

Faus.Why, what’s all this?

Thou’rt going from her, and thou dost not dare

To tell her of thy love? She is the pearl

Of maidenhood, and yet thy heart is faint

Becauseshe is the pearl of maidenhood?

Up, man! Take heart of grace! Thy love is honest,

Thy face is fair—thine heart is true and sound—

Thou art a soldier, marked for fair reward.

Up, man! Take heart of grace! No fretting vows

Stand betwixttheeand such an earthly heaven!

To think that this most miserable man

Has all this boundless treasure in his reach,

And hesitates to grasp it! Up, faint heart!

Come, boot and saddle, and away with thee,

Ere some more daring and less worthy suitor

Step in to take her from thee!

Gott.(astonished).By my hand,’Twas Faustus spake then—not the holy friar!

Gott.(astonished).By my hand,

’Twas Faustus spake then—not the holy friar!

Faus.I spake as man to man—as friend to friend.I love thee; and if such a woman liveAs thou hast pictured, take her to thine heartWhile yet thou mayst. Had I loved such a oneI should not now be wearing out my lifeIn these sad solitudes!

Faus.I spake as man to man—as friend to friend.

I love thee; and if such a woman live

As thou hast pictured, take her to thine heart

While yet thou mayst. Had I loved such a one

I should not now be wearing out my life

In these sad solitudes!

Gott.(sadly).There spake the heart,And not the lips.

Gott.(sadly).There spake the heart,

And not the lips.

Faus.(recollecting himself). May Heaven pardon me!I knew not what I said!

Faus.(recollecting himself). May Heaven pardon me!

I knew not what I said!

Gott.My dear old friend!Come, I must say farewell, my troop awaits me.We ride through Lutzen. I shall see her there.(Trumpet heard without.)“To horse!” Dost know the sound?

Gott.My dear old friend!

Come, I must say farewell, my troop awaits me.

We ride through Lutzen. I shall see her there.

(Trumpet heard without.)

“To horse!” Dost know the sound?

Faus.(sighing).I know it well!

Gott.I’ll warrant me thy trusty soldier-heartBounds as of old, despite thy monkish frock,At the old trumpet call!

Gott.I’ll warrant me thy trusty soldier-heart

Bounds as of old, despite thy monkish frock,

At the old trumpet call!

Faus.These things are past!May God protect thee in thine enterprise,And give thee safe and speedy conduct home.

Faus.These things are past!

May God protect thee in thine enterprise,

And give thee safe and speedy conduct home.

Gott.Amen to that. So, Faustus, fare thee well![ExitGottfried.

Gott.Amen to that. So, Faustus, fare thee well!

[ExitGottfried.

Faus.He’s gone! gone forth to the fair, fruitful world:The world of life and love, the world of hope,Of open hearts and unchecked sympathies!Oh, foolish priest, misleading and misled,Poor trickster, ever duping, ever duped—Cheating thyself into a mad surrenderOf all that youth holds dearest: cheating othersInto blind trust of thy sincerity!Thou art a man—the world was made for men!Thou hast a heart—thy heart is idle here!A curse on all this maddening mummery,This life-long lie, this living catacomb!Earth, heaven, hell, whichever hears me now,Come to my call, and bring me back to life![Thunder, lightning;Mephistoappears.

Faus.He’s gone! gone forth to the fair, fruitful world:

The world of life and love, the world of hope,

Of open hearts and unchecked sympathies!

Oh, foolish priest, misleading and misled,

Poor trickster, ever duping, ever duped—

Cheating thyself into a mad surrender

Of all that youth holds dearest: cheating others

Into blind trust of thy sincerity!

Thou art a man—the world was made for men!

Thou hast a heart—thy heart is idle here!

A curse on all this maddening mummery,

This life-long lie, this living catacomb!

Earth, heaven, hell, whichever hears me now,

Come to my call, and bring me back to life!

[Thunder, lightning;Mephistoappears.

Faus.Merciful Heaven, defend me! Who art thou?What dost thou here, and what wouldst thou with me?

Faus.Merciful Heaven, defend me! Who art thou?

What dost thou here, and what wouldst thou with me?

Meph.You called me, and I came in hurried haste,Lest the two other powers whom you invokedShould be before me in the race.

Meph.You called me, and I came in hurried haste,

Lest the two other powers whom you invoked

Should be before me in the race.

Faus.Who art thou?

Meph.A travelling clock-cobbler, who repairsThe moral timepiece when it’s out of order.

Meph.A travelling clock-cobbler, who repairs

The moral timepiece when it’s out of order.

Faus.A truce to riddles.

Meph.Then I’ll speak more plainlySome clocks are well made, some are roughly fashioned,And need much tinkering; springs weaken, snap,Wheels loosen, dust gets in, and time is lost;Men lose all faith, and put the liar byAs something worse than useless. I, clock-cobbler,Wind up the moral timepiece, make new faces,Repair this wheel, that spring, mend here, mend there;In short, I do my very best to makeA timepiece that has lost its characterPass for a trusty herald of the hour.

Meph.Then I’ll speak more plainly

Some clocks are well made, some are roughly fashioned,

And need much tinkering; springs weaken, snap,

Wheels loosen, dust gets in, and time is lost;

Men lose all faith, and put the liar by

As something worse than useless. I, clock-cobbler,

Wind up the moral timepiece, make new faces,

Repair this wheel, that spring, mend here, mend there;

In short, I do my very best to make

A timepiece that has lost its character

Pass for a trusty herald of the hour.

Faus.Get thee behind me, for I know thee now,Despite thy fair disguise!

Faus.Get thee behind me, for I know thee now,

Despite thy fair disguise!

Meph.Oh, pardon me,I’ve no disguise. This is my own fair form.I’m not the horrible embodimentYou doctors of the Church have painted me—A very Satyr, with a dragon’s tail—A nursemaid’s devil! Oh, shortsighted priests,My policy is to allure mankind,Not to repel them!

Meph.Oh, pardon me,

I’ve no disguise. This is my own fair form.

I’m not the horrible embodiment

You doctors of the Church have painted me—

A very Satyr, with a dragon’s tail—

A nursemaid’s devil! Oh, shortsighted priests,

My policy is to allure mankind,

Not to repel them!

Faus.What wouldst thou with me?

Meph.A proper question! Why, you summoned me!It is a leading principle with meThat no one ever needs to call me twice.

Meph.A proper question! Why, you summoned me!

It is a leading principle with me

That no one ever needs to call me twice.

Faus.I spake in haste. I did not weigh my words.

Meph.That may be, or it may not be. I haveA character for promptness to maintain,And can’t afford to risk my reputationOn the mere hazard that your words were idle.

Meph.That may be, or it may not be. I have

A character for promptness to maintain,

And can’t afford to risk my reputation

On the mere hazard that your words were idle.

Faus.You’ve saved your character, and so depart—Prime cause of sin—accursed of God and man!

Faus.You’ve saved your character, and so depart—

Prime cause of sin—accursed of God and man!

Meph.Unjust—illogical! But you’re a Churchman.Prime cause of sin! Why, evil comes from good,As oft as good from evil. Motives? Pooh!Why, half the ills that vex mankind ariseFrom motives that are unimpeachable.

Meph.Unjust—illogical! But you’re a Churchman.

Prime cause of sin! Why, evil comes from good,

As oft as good from evil. Motives? Pooh!

Why, half the ills that vex mankind arise

From motives that are unimpeachable.

Faus.If goodly seed, well sown, bear evil fruit,The fault is scarcely with the husbandman.

Faus.If goodly seed, well sown, bear evil fruit,

The fault is scarcely with the husbandman.

Meph.But why sow any goodly seed at all,If evil may result from doing so?

Meph.But why sow any goodly seed at all,

If evil may result from doing so?

Faus.Why try to stop my sowing goodly seed,If it produce the crops that please you best?

Faus.Why try to stop my sowing goodly seed,

If it produce the crops that please you best?

Meph.He’s hit the blot! This clear-cut brain of hisIs wasted in this world of half an acre!Cast off thy frock—come forth with me. The manWho can detect my sophisms at a glanceIs safe enough, without the galling chainsThat fetter him to prayer and solitude.Come forth with me;There’s a fair field without these gloomy wallsFor such a brain as thine—a merry world,Teeming with song and dance—a grateful world,Where gallant deed and brilliant enterpriseMeet with their due reward—a loving world,Where kindred hearts may chime in unison.Come forth with me!

Meph.He’s hit the blot! This clear-cut brain of his

Is wasted in this world of half an acre!

Cast off thy frock—come forth with me. The man

Who can detect my sophisms at a glance

Is safe enough, without the galling chains

That fetter him to prayer and solitude.

Come forth with me;

There’s a fair field without these gloomy walls

For such a brain as thine—a merry world,

Teeming with song and dance—a grateful world,

Where gallant deed and brilliant enterprise

Meet with their due reward—a loving world,

Where kindred hearts may chime in unison.

Come forth with me!

Faus.Peace—get thee hence away.My vows are taken!

Faus.Peace—get thee hence away.

My vows are taken!

Meph.Ay, and so they are!Vows not to dream of the gay world without—Vows not to sigh for temporal vanities—Vows so to chasten, quell, and mortifyYour natural craving for a woman’s love,That it shall sicken, wither, starve and dieFrom lack of sustenance!Rare vows, and rarely kept, I make no doubt!Why, man, you break them every day you live;You break them when you weep upon the graveOf broken hopes and blighted sympathies—Of wrecked ambitions, and the hundred tombsThat crowd this solitary sepulchre!You break them when you let your memory looseTo revel in the rich, ripe luxuryOf luscious lips, soft cheeks and glancing eyes,The violet breath—the press of warm, soft hands,Or the crisp frettle of disordered hair,That wooed your flaming cheek, as, half ashamed,The maiden nestled, blushing, on your breast—And yet you plead your vows! Like some I knowWho pray for mankind in the aggregate,And damn them all in detail!

Meph.Ay, and so they are!

Vows not to dream of the gay world without—

Vows not to sigh for temporal vanities—

Vows so to chasten, quell, and mortify

Your natural craving for a woman’s love,

That it shall sicken, wither, starve and die

From lack of sustenance!

Rare vows, and rarely kept, I make no doubt!

Why, man, you break them every day you live;

You break them when you weep upon the grave

Of broken hopes and blighted sympathies—

Of wrecked ambitions, and the hundred tombs

That crowd this solitary sepulchre!

You break them when you let your memory loose

To revel in the rich, ripe luxury

Of luscious lips, soft cheeks and glancing eyes,

The violet breath—the press of warm, soft hands,

Or the crisp frettle of disordered hair,

That wooed your flaming cheek, as, half ashamed,

The maiden nestled, blushing, on your breast—

And yet you plead your vows! Like some I know

Who pray for mankind in the aggregate,

And damn them all in detail!

Faus.Tempt me not.I left the world of women for these walls,Because I found a woman false as thou—I’ll not return.

Faus.Tempt me not.

I left the world of women for these walls,

Because I found a woman false as thou—

I’ll not return.

Meph.Illogical again.“As one is so are all.” Sound argument!You gather generals from particularsLike all your brood. Why, there’s no harm in women.Ididn’t make them! They’re my deadliest foes!Why, he who of his own unfettered willCuts himself off from pure communionWith blameless womanhood, withdraws himselfFrom a far holier influence than he findsWithin these sad and silent solitudes.

Meph.Illogical again.

“As one is so are all.” Sound argument!

You gather generals from particulars

Like all your brood. Why, there’s no harm in women.

Ididn’t make them! They’re my deadliest foes!

Why, he who of his own unfettered will

Cuts himself off from pure communion

With blameless womanhood, withdraws himself

From a far holier influence than he finds

Within these sad and silent solitudes.

Faus.Strange sentiments from such as thou!

Meph.For thatWe devils, as you Churchmen please to call us,Are not the simple folk you take us for;We are shrewd fellows in our homely way,And look facts in the face. I know a maid,A fair and gentle girl—the pink and bloomOf all that’s loveliest in maidenhood,Whose simple truth and pure and blameless lifeHave done my cause more harm in eighteen yearsThan all the monks in Christendom can mend!

Meph.For that

We devils, as you Churchmen please to call us,

Are not the simple folk you take us for;

We are shrewd fellows in our homely way,

And look facts in the face. I know a maid,

A fair and gentle girl—the pink and bloom

Of all that’s loveliest in maidenhood,

Whose simple truth and pure and blameless life

Have done my cause more harm in eighteen years

Than all the monks in Christendom can mend!

Faus.Is this indeed the truth?

Meph.Ay, though I tell it.

Faus.If there live such a one as thou hast painted—A maiden—pure as the blue breath of heaven,Into whose virgin heart no dream of illHath ever crept—the bloom of whose pure lipsIs yet unbrushed by man’s polluting touch;Whose life is open as the very truth—A perfect type of blameless maidenhood,Take me to her, and Iwilllearn of her.

Faus.If there live such a one as thou hast painted—

A maiden—pure as the blue breath of heaven,

Into whose virgin heart no dream of ill

Hath ever crept—the bloom of whose pure lips

Is yet unbrushed by man’s polluting touch;

Whose life is open as the very truth—

A perfect type of blameless maidenhood,

Take me to her, and Iwilllearn of her.

Meph.Humph! No, I’d rather not.

Faus.And why?

Meph.You see,We devils have our consciences. In viceWe can do nearly all that man can do,But not quite all. There are some forms of sinFrom which we shrink—and this is one of them.I have no stomach for such worldly work.Best get a man to help you.

Meph.You see,

We devils have our consciences. In vice

We can do nearly all that man can do,

But not quite all. There are some forms of sin

From which we shrink—and this is one of them.

I have no stomach for such worldly work.

Best get a man to help you.

Faus.Mocking fiend,Misjudge me not. As there’s a heaven and hell,I mean the maid no wrong. I’ll take thy help,If thou wilt give it me. But be forewarned;I’ll make no compact with thee. Set me free,And I will fight thee with the holy aidOf her pure innocence. Be thou forewarned.

Faus.Mocking fiend,

Misjudge me not. As there’s a heaven and hell,

I mean the maid no wrong. I’ll take thy help,

If thou wilt give it me. But be forewarned;

I’ll make no compact with thee. Set me free,

And I will fight thee with the holy aid

Of her pure innocence. Be thou forewarned.

Meph.I like your frankness! Well, you’re not the firstWho’s tried to rise to heaven on my shoulders!Humph! I don’t know. I am a match foryou.But, you and she allied! The odds are heavy!Well, I’m a student still, and always gladTo glean experience when and how I can.I’m curious to see how this will end;Ifforme—good; but if against me—well,I shall but loseyou, and you’re no great stake.And so I’ll risk it. See! The maiden comes![A vision ofGretchenis seen, gliding across the stage, through the tombstones; she is reading a breviary.

Meph.I like your frankness! Well, you’re not the first

Who’s tried to rise to heaven on my shoulders!

Humph! I don’t know. I am a match foryou.

But, you and she allied! The odds are heavy!

Well, I’m a student still, and always glad

To glean experience when and how I can.

I’m curious to see how this will end;

Ifforme—good; but if against me—well,

I shall but loseyou, and you’re no great stake.

And so I’ll risk it. See! The maiden comes!

[A vision ofGretchenis seen, gliding across the stage, through the tombstones; she is reading a breviary.

Faus.(entranced). Great grace of Heaven!Is this indeed a form of mortal mould?Speak, tempter, speak!

Faus.(entranced). Great grace of Heaven!

Is this indeed a form of mortal mould?

Speak, tempter, speak!

Meph.Ay, flesh and blood, like yours,Taken, haphazard, from a world of women!How say you? Is she not exceeding fair?Is there not innocence in every lineOf that pure, face? Is aught more virginalThan the sweet sadness of those downcast eyesBent on her breviary? And yet withal,There is a wondrous world of latent loveWithin that maiden heart. The girl will loveAs few can love, when the full time arrives;So take good heed, deal gently with the maid,Or harm may come of it—and that were pity!

Meph.Ay, flesh and blood, like yours,

Taken, haphazard, from a world of women!

How say you? Is she not exceeding fair?

Is there not innocence in every line

Of that pure, face? Is aught more virginal

Than the sweet sadness of those downcast eyes

Bent on her breviary? And yet withal,

There is a wondrous world of latent love

Within that maiden heart. The girl will love

As few can love, when the full time arrives;

So take good heed, deal gently with the maid,

Or harm may come of it—and that were pity!

Faus.If there be truth in heaven, there’s truth in her!If there be heaven on earth, there’s heaven here!

Faus.If there be truth in heaven, there’s truth in her!

If there be heaven on earth, there’s heaven here!

Meph.Ay, verily! Why, when I look on her,I’m almost tempted to turn saint myself;What would the world do then! Well, what say you?The choice is well before you. On one hand,Quibbling chop-logic—lip and letter worship—Flesh idly mortified—unreasoning dogma—The shallow sophistries of means and end—Straws split, and split, and split, and split again—Each section in itself infallible,And all dissentients damned! And on the other,Peace, charity, and mercy, simple faith,Gentle good-will and loving kindliness.Come, priest, what say you? Quick—my time is short.[The apparition raises her eyes from her book and turns toFaustus, holding out her hand to him.

Meph.Ay, verily! Why, when I look on her,

I’m almost tempted to turn saint myself;

What would the world do then! Well, what say you?

The choice is well before you. On one hand,

Quibbling chop-logic—lip and letter worship—

Flesh idly mortified—unreasoning dogma—

The shallow sophistries of means and end—

Straws split, and split, and split, and split again—

Each section in itself infallible,

And all dissentients damned! And on the other,

Peace, charity, and mercy, simple faith,

Gentle good-will and loving kindliness.

Come, priest, what say you? Quick—my time is short.

[The apparition raises her eyes from her book and turns toFaustus, holding out her hand to him.

Faus.Spirit of peace—divine embodiment—Henceforth be thou my faith—be thou my Church!Be thou my guide, my hope, my monitress!Henceforth the beacon-light of thy pure soulShall shed its light upon my onward path,And I will follow whither it may lead!Spirit of purity, I come to thee!

Faus.Spirit of peace—divine embodiment—

Henceforth be thou my faith—be thou my Church!

Be thou my guide, my hope, my monitress!

Henceforth the beacon-light of thy pure soul

Shall shed its light upon my onward path,

And I will follow whither it may lead!

Spirit of purity, I come to thee!

ACT II.Scene.—A glade. On the right a precipitous descent through the stage at the back; on the left an avenue of trees.Barbara,Bessie, and others discovered; to them entersAgatha.Aga.Oh, Bessie—Barbara! Such dreadful news!Bess.News!Bar.Quick! What is it?Aga.Lisa has returned!Lisa, who ran away with the rich merchantA year ago!Bar.A wicked, wicked girl!I hope she won’t come here!Bess.And have you seen her?Aga.I met her only half an hour agoUpon the Leipzic road!Bess.Is she much changed?Aga.Changed! Why, at first I couldn’t trust my eyes.You know how jauntily she bore herself—How daintily she dressed? Well—that’sall changed!Pale, wasted to a shadow—draggletailed—Dressed in torn rags—bare-footed, and bare-headed!A beggar!Bar.I remember how she sneeredAt my blue gown trimmed with peach-coloured ribbon.Well, Heaven has punished her forthat.Bess.But say—Did she address you?Aga.Yes, she spoke my name.I started, and I recognized her. Well,I mumbled forth some words—I scarce know what—And, all a-fluster, gathered up my skirts,And ran as though a ghost were at my heels.Bar.And you did wisely. Honest working girlsShould shun such brazen creatures!Bess.Soft—she’s here![Lisacomes down avenue; she is dressed in torn and travel-stained rags, as described. As she comes down the girls turn away from her.Lisa.Well, girls,Do you not know me, that you turn from me?Or has the misery of twelve black monthsSo sadly changed me?Bess.(sighing).Yes, we know you well!Bar.(spitefully). Too well!Lisa.Is there no pity for me in your hearts?Is there no pardon for such sin as mine?See—I am cold and hungry—travel-worn—Broken in spirit, humbled and forsaken.Oh, I have paid a penalty!Bar.No doubtWe knew you would.Bess.(aside toBarbara). I’m sorry for the girl;We’ve known her all our lives. With all her faults,We loved her well, when she was one of us.Bar.When she was one of us? Of course—becauseShe thenwasone of us. But when a man—A married man—elopes with one of us(Which happens sometimes), why, that one of usNo longer claims to rank as one of us;And so the cause of love exists no longer.Aga.That’s true, indeed!Lisa.Have you no charity?Is there no eloquence to touch your heartsIn this wan, wasted form—these wretched rags?Why, look at me!Bar.There is a certain frock,Blue, trimmed with peach—not much the worse for wear—That’s humbly at your service. (Curtsying mockingly.)Bess.Spare her, pray!Lisa.Ay, spare me, bitter hearts! Who can foresee?A year ago, I was as one of you!Another year, and you may be as I!So, better spare me, lest it come to passThat you have judged yourselves in judging me.Well, well, the river’s near!EnterGretchen.Gret.Why, who is this?Lisa! (Taking her hand.)Lisa.Hold! Ere you take my hand in yours,Remember what I am and what I’ve done.I am an outcast, cheated and betrayed.He swore to marry me—well, I believed him,And when I looked to him to keep his promise,He told me of his wife. There, that’s my story.Go wash your hand!Gret.Poor bruised and broken heart—Be comforted. Why, I have prayed and prayedFor thy return—and see, my prayer is heard!Poor wanderer! Our hearts were sore for thee,Ay, very sore—and I remember wellHow Barbara wept when the sad tidings came,And vowed she’d rather lose her best ten yearsThan this had happened.Bar.Yes, and so I would,But it has happened—and the mischief’s done.Bess.(crying). I’m sure I loved her dearly!Aga.So did I!One can’t forget old times!Gret.Why, then be brave,And prove that thine was no fine-weather love,Poor penitent! Oh, sisters, is it fitThat we should judge our sister, or withholdThe mercy that we pray for, day by day?Lisa(surprised). Oh, Gretchen, Gretchen!Gret.Come, poor broken heart,Look up—we are thy sisters as of old.Bess.(half sobbing). If Gretchen can forgive thee, who are weThat we should hold aloof? We spake in haste;Our hearts were turned to thee, despite our words.[Bessiekisses her and exit.Bar.You told me once that I’d a bitter tongue,D’ye recollect it? Lisa, you were right.Forgive me, please; there! (Kissing her.) Never mind the frock,Though bear in mind (toAgatha) I still maintain my point,That blue and peach go very well together![ExeuntBarbaraandAgatha.Gret.Come, dry your eyes, and take good heart again.Lisa.Oh, Gretchen, Gretchen! let me weep awhile:In truth I looked for pity and for helpFrom them, for they and I had much in common;But thou, so good in all, so pure, so true——Gret.If it be good and true to close one’s heartTo sorrow such as thine, why, Heaven help me,For then I have no title to the words!See, Martha comes. She has an angry tongue,Although her heart is kindly. Get thee henceTill I have spoken to her. Here is money;Go, get thee food, and then come back to me.Take courage—Martha can refuse me nothing.It shall go hard but when thou comest backShe’ll welcome thee as I do. Fare thee well.Lisa.Those who would pray for thee have but one prayer,That earth be kind to thee, for heaven is thine,Ay, surely, surely thine.[Exit.EnterMartha, with basket.Mar.Drudge, drudge, drudge, drudge! To market seven miles,And seven home again! It’s a hard life,And tells upon me sorely! All this comesOf marrying a bad man—a bad, poor man.But there, he’s at the wars—God keep him there!Ah, Gretchen, Gretchen, be advised by me;And promise me that when thy heart’s in danger,Thou’lt come to me, that I may counsel theeOut of the wealth of my experience—The only wealth I have. Come, promise me.Gret.I do. (Pauses; then timidly) In proof of my sincerityI will begin to-day. Ihaveseen oneWhom I could love.Mar.(amazed).Why, Gretchen, what’s all this?Doth he love thee?Gret.Ay, for he told me so.Mar.He told thee so! And when?Gret.Last night.Mar.Last night!Gret.Or stay—it might have been betimes this morning.Mar.Last night! This morning! Gretchen! Where wast thouLast night—this morning!Gret.Why, within thy house.Mar.And there thy lover saw thee—spake to thee,Within my house—alone—at dead of night!Gretchen, for shame! Art thou as other girls?Who is the reprobate?Gret.I cannot say.I do not think he is a reprobate.Mar.His name?Gret.I do not know.Mar.His rank—his calling?Gret.I cannot tell.Mar.Why, Gretchen, I’m aghast!Gret.Nay, I’ll not plague thee with half-hidden truths,I’ll tell thee all, and thou shalt counsel me.Last night I slept—it might have been this morning,I cannot tell—and, as I slept, methoughtThat as I wandered all alone, amidThe moonlight tombs of some old cloistered square,I saw a man, arrayed in monkish frock,And yet (so much at variance with themselvesAre sleeping fantasies) he was no monk,But some young errant knight of noble rank,The very flower of gentle chivalry!Entranced, I gazed upon him, marvelling muchThat aught of mortal mould could be so fair;(’Twas but a dream—we cannot frame our dreams)And as I gazed, methought he knelt him down,And vowed himself to me, for evermore!There—read me that!Mar.I will. Now, mark my words,The lover whom thou seest in a dreamWill, in due season, court thee—in a dream.And, if the courtship prosper, as it will,Some day, perhaps, he’ll wed thee—in a dream.Then after many long and life-like dreamsOf married misery, black looks, rough words,Hard blows and mutual discontent, thou’lt wakeAnd bless thy lucky stars it was a dream!Dream on, my child, pray thou mayst never wake,As I have done. Come, there is work to do.[Exeunt together.EnterFaustusandMephisto.Faus.At last, at last—unless my heart deceives me,Here is the glade, and that should be her house.Meph.Ay, that’s the house that holds the guardian maidWho is to lead you whither you should go,And save your lordship from yourself—and me.Henceforth that hovel is to be your church,With savoury fumes of roast and boiled for incense;The dim recesses of the chimney cornerWill serve you as a snug confessional.How say you? Will you enter? If you do,You’ll find the fair high priestess of the shrineIntent upon the secular employOf hanging clothes to dry. Or will you waitUntil my pretty enemy is freeTo enter on her spiritual functions?Faus.Peace! mocking spirit. Stay thy ribald tongue.Dost thou, whom none believe, believe in none?Meph.Nay, I’m the most confiding soul alive.I credit all I’m told. Not by the tongue—Men do not speak to me with tongues. No, no.Man keeps his words and deeds for man’s behoof.They speak a language that I cannot fathom.Iread the heart and brain, and alltheytell me,With childlike faith, I readily accept.Faus.I would my heart were as an open book,That all might read therein! But who comes here?By all the powers that rule mischance, ’tis Gottfried!What shall I do? How justify myselfIn my old comrade’s eyes?Meph.Leave that to me.Bear yourself boldly; put a good face on’t,And I will frame excuses that will serve.EnterGottfried.Gott.Here is the well-loved home! Ah, Gretchen, Gretchen!When shall we meet again? Or shall we meet?God knows! I go where death is freely dealt,And I may fall—— Well, she will weep for me. (SeesFaustus.)Whom have we here? Either my senses cheat me,Or this is Faustus! Faustus, as I live!Faustus unfrocked! Faustus unsanctified!Faustus re-butterflied in bravery!Faus.Ay, Gottfried, I am Faustus—in the flesh.Gott.Now here’s a riddle, and I wait the answer.But yesterday thou wast a hooded monk,A pale, cold, stern, and sour Dominican;A human tombstone, sculptured by thyself,In honour of thy dead and buried follies.To-day I find the tombstone taken down,And all the follies risen from the dead!Meph.He was misled—his follies cheated him.Believing they were dead, to all intent,In decency he raised a monument;But finding them alive beneath his gown,In decency he took the tombstone down.Gott.It is enough for me that thou art free.Welcome once more to life and liberty!(ToMephisto.) Sir, in the name of all good fellowship,I thank you for your charitable office.Faus.Now tell me, Gottfried, wherefore art thou here?Gott.I come, as yesterday I said I should,To bid a long farewell to cousin Gretchen.Faus.To Gretchen?Gott.Ay, the maid of whom I spake.Faus.Ishername Gretchen?Gott.Yes—she lives hard by,With Mistress Martha. Faustus, thou shalt see her,And join with me in worship at her shrine.Faus.(confused). I understand—my words have weighed with thee,And thou hast come to tell her of thy love.Gott.Not I, indeed; despite thine eloquence,I’m going from her for a weary while,Maybe for ever. That will give her sorrow,Sorrow enough. I would not add to itBy telling her of such poor love as mineFor all the world holds dear. Some day, please Heaven,I shall return with honours to my name(If honours lie within my grasp, I’ll grasp them),And then, if I’ve a name worth offering,Maybe I’ll pluck up heart. Not now, not now.But hush, she comes.EnterGretchen.Gretchen, my sister Gretchen!Gret.Gottfried! I am right glad to welcome thee,My dear, dear brother! Art thou come for long?Gott.Nay, Gretchen, I am with my troop of horse.We march to Dettingen, and being hereI stole a brief half hour to say farewell.Gret.(alarmed). Thou art not going to the war?Gott.No, no!Mere frontier duty, Gretchen; nothing more.(Aside.) May Heaven forgive me—that’s a downright lie!Gret.I breathe again. (SeesFaustus.) Who is this gentleman?(With intense surprise.)Gott.This is my very dear and tried friend, Faustus,The truest fellow that the wide world holds.Faustus, this is my gentle cousin Gretchen.Gret.(agitated). Surely I dream again! Oh, marvellous!The very face and form!Gott.Come, Gretchen, speak.Gret.(much agitated). I give you honest welcome, noble sir;As you are Gottfried’s friend, so are you ours.Faus.I thank you, lady.Gott.Well, and is that all?“I thank you, lady!” Come, thou shamefaced knight,Where are thy words? Gretchen, be not deceived—Hehatha tongue—a very fluent tongue,And one that serves him well, when he so pleases.Faus.I am not dumb from lack of gratitude.Much as I owe to Gottfried’s well-tried love,My heavy debt is multiplied tenfold.Gott.(aside toFaustus). Then, debtor, pay the tenfold debt tenfold.Watch over her when I am far away—Shield her from harm as though she were thy sister,And we’ll cry quits. Thou wilt? I thank thee, Faustus;I go with lighter heart! (Aloud toGretchen.) Now, fare thee well.God keep thee safe and sound till I return.Gret.Farewell, dear Gottfried—think of me at times.My heart is full—then read it in my eyes.May Heaven shield thee from all harm!Gott.Amen.And now to horse—nay, not another word,Or I shall lack the heart to go at all.Farewell—once more and only once—farewell![ExitGottfried.Gret.(timidly). Sir, will you enter? Our poor home is near,And Mistress Martha will be glad to greet you.You are an old friend of my cousin Gottfried?Faus.Ay, lady.Gret.Nay, you must not call me “lady;”I am a peasant girl—my name is Gretchen.Faus.And may I call thee Gretchen?Gret.Willingly.All call me Gretchen.Faus.Gottfried calls thee Gretchen.I thought he claimed a cousin’s privilege.Gret.Does Gottfried speak of me?Faus.He does indeed,And in such terms of glowing eulogyI almost feared that he had gained thy heart.Gret.Feared!Faus.Pardon me. I spake unwittingly.His welfare should be very dear to me,And, therefore, I should rather hope than fear.Gret.Gottfried has been my brother all my life.I would not own another man as brother:Nor would I have him aught but honest “brother.”I love him dearly—dearly. Twice a dayI say a prayer for him, and he for me.He is my brother. Every hope of hisIs hope of mine. When trouble falls on himIt falls alike on me—he is my brother.And when he comes—as one day he will come—To tell me of some good and gentle girlWho worthily has won his honest heart,I’ll throw my loving arms around her neck,And call her “sister,” as I call him “brother.”Faus.Now Heaven forgive me, but those words of thineHave freed my bosom from a load of care!Gret.Didst thou then think I loved him not?Faus.Nay, nay.I feared thy love was more than sister-love.Gret.Dost thou then fear the love that tends to wedlock?Meph.(aside). Not he!Faus.I hold that truest happinessIs born of wedlock.Meph.(aside). Bravo, celibate!Gret.And yet it much rejoiceth thee to knowThat cousin Gottfried hath no thought of wedlock?Faus.Nay, maiden, it rejoiceth me to knowThat cousin Gretchen hath no thought of wedlock.Gret.Thou dost not wish me happy, then?Faus.My heart!I would it were my care to make thee happy!Gret.Now I am sorely puzzled!Meph.(aside).And no wonder!Gret.Thou wishest Gottfried happy, and me happy;In wedlock, only, is true happiness;And yet, forsooth, it much rejoiceth theeTo know that he and I are not to wed!Meph.(aside). Pretty logician! A dilemma, truly!Faus.Nay, Gretchen, better let the riddle restTill time shall solve it!Gret.Pray forgive me, sir.I do not doubt thy words are learned words.Small wonder that I cannot fathom them.Mar.(without). Come, Gretchen! Gretchen!Meph.(aside).Bah! she’ll ruin all!How these old ladies always interfere!EnterMartha.Mar.Why, who is this?Gret.A friend of cousin Gottfried,A very old and very trusty friend;And so, a very trusty friend of ours.Mar.We give you welcome, sir. Our home is poor,But wholly at your service. (Aside.) By the mass,A very straight, and well-favoured gentleman!Meph.(aside). She’ll never leave him. I must interfere.(Coming forward.) Pray pardon this intrusion——Mar.Who is this?Meph.(to Gretchen). Do I address Dame Martha?Gret.No, indeed,My name is Gretchen—this is Mistress Martha.Meph.A thousand pardons for my clumsy error.Misled by a description—“tall and fair,Eighteen, and very beautiful.” The wordsApply, with equal truth, to both the ladies.Mar.You’re vastly civil, sir! (Aside.) Upon my word,It rains well-spoken, proper gentlemen!Meph.Sisters, of course?Mar.Nay, she’s my sister’s child(Hastily.) My sister was, by many years, my senior!Meph.That’s evident. I bring you doleful news—Yet news not altogether dolorous;There is a certain spice of comfort in’t—Yet not so much of comfort, I’m afraid,As to disguise its not unpleasant bitter.Mar.Your words alarm me! Pray forgive me, sir,Are you a lawyer?Meph.I’m the prince of lawyers.Mar.I am your servant, sir! (Curtsying.)Meph.I’m glad to hear it!But pardon me, the news I have to tellIs for your ears alone.Mar.(toGretchen, who is conversing withFaustus).Go, Gretchen dear,And show the gentleman the Lover’s Glen.Meph.Take heed—the path is dangerously steep—Be sure you do not trip, my pretty maid.Gret.I thank you, sir. I know its pitfalls well,And how to pass them safely. (ToFaustus.) Wilt thou come?Faus.To the world’s end, fair maiden, an thou wilt.Gret.(laughing). Nay, I’ll not pledge thee to so long a journey,The road is short.Mar.But very perilous.Meph.It is, indeed!Faus.Wilt trust thy hand in mine?Mar.Ay, take his hand—you will be safer so.Meph.(aside). I doubt it much.[FaustusandGretchengo down incline.Mar.Now we are quite alone.Meph.The news I bring you is about your husband.Mar.My husband! he’s not coming back!Meph.No, no—It’s not as bad as that.Mar.(relieved).You frightened me!Meph.(with emotion). He never will come back.Mar.What mean you, sir?Meph.I mean that, fighting bravely ’gainst the Turks,An arrow struck him—and—— (Faltering.)Mar.(affected).I guess your meaning!This is sad news, indeed! Alack-a-day,I never wished his death! With all his faults,He was no worse than other husbands are!Meph.A most affecting tribute to his worth.Pray pardon my emotion; I’ve a heartThat melts at weeping women.Mar.Pray go on;I’ll try to stem my tears. Left he a will?Meph.He did—a very good and Christian will.Mar.Hewasa Christian!Meph.(sighing).Ah! His will directsThat you shall spend on masses for his soul,Five hundred marks.Mar.(indignantly). Five hundred fiddlesticks!A wicked waste!Meph.Well, knowing all I knowAbout his mode of life, I must admitItisa waste; but so his will directs.Mar.And is that all? Left he no parting wordsOf penitence?Meph.Oh yes; as death drew near,He much bewailed his manifold transgressionsAnd said that he could die more tranquillyHad he his wife’s forgiveness.Mar.Poor dear soul!I could forgive him, freely, everything,Except those masses!Meph.“Though it’s true,” said he,“In all our quarrels, and we’d many quarrels,She was invariably to blame.”Mar.A lie!A most observable and shameless lie!Meph.Alas! I fear that, as a rule, his wordsWere not distinguished by that love of truthThat you and I deem indispensable.For instance, he declared that earning breadTo feed so many mouths took all his time,And left no moment he could call his own!Mar.Again, a lie! I drudged from morn to nightTo feed and clothe his famished family,While he sat all day fuddling at the ale-house!Alas, he never cared for wife or child!Meph.Nay, there you wrong him. Give the deuce his due.Before he sailed he prayed to all the saintsTo bless his arms with full prosperity;So that, if he in battle should be slain,His widow yet might live in luxury.Mar.Poor soul! poor soul! Did Heaven so bless them?Meph.Yes.His prayer was heard. Some seven months agoHe helped to take a Turkish galley, fraughtWith countless treasure.Mar.Why, that was well done.Brave man!Meph.Brave man!Mar.And what got he by that?Meph.His share of prize-money—twelve thousand marks!Mar.Twelve thousand marks! a fortune in itself!May Heaven forgive me all my angry words!He had a brave good heart. Where is the money?Meph.Ask his good heart. He never could resistA tale of sorrow eloquently told.Mar.(alarmed). What mean you?Meph.When at Naples, shortly after,He saw a girl—young, beautiful, but poor—A very child, scarce seventeen years old.His tender heart gave way; she was so poor,And then so very young—scarce seventeen!He gave it all to her.Mar.All!Meph.Every florin.But then, she was so young—scarce seventeen——Mar.At his old tricks! Then there is nothing left?Meph.You wrong him there; he left a priceless treasure,Compared with which his other paltry gainsSink into nothingness—a charming widow!Mar.You’re very good.Meph.I speak the simple truth.Come, take good heart. You waste your tears uponA man who priced you far below your worth.You’re young, and (pardon me) attractive still.Spend one chaste year of lonely widowhood,Then seek a better husband.Mar.As for that,With all his faults, I might wed worse than he.(Sobbing.) He was a kindly fool!Meph.Forgiving soul!Angelic tolerance! Ah, were I sureThat you would treatmyfaults as leniently,I should be almost tempted to——Mar.To what?Oh, sir, you’re surely jesting!Meph.Not at all.(Aside.) I’d better change the subject. This old girlWould take the very devil at his word.They’re coming back. (Aloud.) We’ll talk of this anon—After a year—or two—or three——Mar.We will![Exeunt together, asFaustusandGretchenappear at back.Faus.That, Gretchen, wasmydream.Gret.Oh, marvellous!That thou and I—each stranger to the other—Should thus have peopled each the other’s vision!I tremble when I think on’t.Faus.Wherefore so?Was then the vision so distasteful?Gret.Nay,I said not so; but that we two should dreamAs we have dreamt—’tis not in nature!Faus.PromiseThat if again thou seest me in a dreamThou’lt tell me all—the part I play therein—The words I speak to thee, and thou to me.Gret.(confused). Perhaps. It may be so. I will not promise.Faus.Tell me again—Gottfried—thou dost not love him?Gret.He is my brother, sir!Faus.So he be alway!There is, perchance, some other envied manTo whom the flower of thine heart is given?Gret.Indeed, I have no lover, sir.Faus.None?Gret.None.Faus.Thy time will come!Gret.Perhaps!Faus.Give me thy hand—I’ll read thy fortune, Gretchen.Gret.Wonderful!Canst thou read fortunes? (Giving her hand.)Faus.Ay, indifferent well. (Playing with her hand.)Gret.Speak, sir; I listen.Faus.(still playing with her hand). ’Tis a soft white hand!Gret.(demurely). My fortune, sir.Faus.(recollecting himself). True, true, thy fortune! Come. (Looking at her palm.)Ah, Gretchen, Gretchen, be thou on thy guard!There cometh one to woo thee. Oh, beware,Take heed of him—he is no honest man!Gret.And do I know him, sir?Faus.Ay, in some sort,Thou knowest his smooth face, his specious tongue;But there is that within his evil heartOf which thou knowest little! Oh, my child,Beware of him! My child, beware of him!Gret.Why comes this wicked man to such as I?I would not aid him in his wickedness.Faus.In sad and sorrowing heart he comes to thee,That he may learn the lesson of thy life.He comes to thee in the fond, foolish hopeThat the pure influence of such love as thineMay quell the evil angel at his side;For wicked as he is, he loveth thee,With all his poor frail heart he loveth thee!Gret.’Tis a strange fortune! I, an untaught girl,Can teach but little. But if such a oneCome to me sorrowing for his bygone sins,E’en though I loved him not,In pity I would strive, with all my heart,To help him, even as I pray for help.I do not know why I should fear this man.Faus.(earnestly). Because, with all his sorrow, he is false—False to himself, and, maybe, false to thee.Oh, Gretchen, deal not lightly with my words;Weigh them, and weigh them, o’er and o’er again.And when thou kneelest by thy bed to-night,Pray thou for strength as thou hast never prayed;Pray for a brave and staunch and steadfast heart—Steadfast to aid this poor weak wandererUpon the holy path that thou hast chosen.But above all, beyond all, and before all,Steadfast to pluck the traitor from thineIf, in the depth of his mortality,He strive to gain thee by unholy means!Gret.(quietly). I will take heed, sir. (Rising and going.)Faus.Gretchen—leave me not.Gret.I go to seek a poor lost, friendless girl,Who waits for me hard by. I thank you, sir—I take your kindly counsel in good part.Thou dost not know the sad and solemn lessonThat her poor blighted heart hath taught us all.For she was wont to laugh as the birds sing,From very wealth of idle happiness!It seems so strange that she should not have died.Faus.God save thee from such harm! (Releasing her.)Gret.Amen! amen![Exit.Faus.(stands as if entranced for a moment; then suddenly)Why, whither am I going? Grace of Heaven!Have I been blind? Fool! poor, self-cheating fool!Stop, while thou mayst—thine eyes are open now!What seest thou?Hell against heaven—and thou allied with hell![Mephistoappears and listens.What seest thou? A pure and blameless child,Trustful as innocence—her gentle soul,Calm as a lake in heaven—her angel face,God’s work,Untainted by man’s desecrating touch!And, at her side,A scheming mummer, tricked in godly garb—His tongue all plausible, his heart all false—His lying manhood traitor to itself!Faustus, mine enemy, I know thee now!Faustus, mine enemy, I know thee now!Meph.Shake off thy Churchman’s qualms. Thou art a man,Wast once a soldier ere thou wast a priest.Has monkish milk so curdled the hot bloodThat bore thee ever where the fight was thickest,That this raw girl—this butter-churning doll,Hath turned thee chicken-hearted?Faus.Hold thy peace,Accursed fiend, nor dare to breathehername.Deal thou with me—let Heaven deal with heaven,I go from her—God shield her from all harm!Meph.Hush, not so loud, she’ll hear you. See, she comes![Gretchenappears at back, picking petals from a daisy as she advances.Gret.He loves me—he loves me not!He loves me—he loves me not!Meph.(aside toFaustus). Too late, too late! her heart is given to thee;Her love is not as other women’s love.Take thyself hence and she will surely die![Faustuswatches her, entranced.Gret.(with increased anxiety).He loves me—he loves me not!He loves me—he loves me not!Meph.See how she trembles as the petals fall.Poor child, poor child!She trusts her simple charm, and should it fail,Her heart will break! Have pity on her, Faustus!Gret.He loves me—he loves me not!He loves me—he loves me not! (She picks the last petal.)Oh, Heaven, have mercy!Faus.(breaking fromMephisto, and rushing to her).Gretchen, dearly loved!Mistrust thy charm! By Heaven that hears me now,He loves thee, Gretchen! loves thee, loves thee, loves thee![Gretchengives a cry of joy and surprise, then falls weeping on his neck.Mephistoat back, laughing cynically.

Scene.—A glade. On the right a precipitous descent through the stage at the back; on the left an avenue of trees.Barbara,Bessie, and others discovered; to them entersAgatha.Aga.Oh, Bessie—Barbara! Such dreadful news!Bess.News!Bar.Quick! What is it?Aga.Lisa has returned!Lisa, who ran away with the rich merchantA year ago!Bar.A wicked, wicked girl!I hope she won’t come here!Bess.And have you seen her?Aga.I met her only half an hour agoUpon the Leipzic road!Bess.Is she much changed?Aga.Changed! Why, at first I couldn’t trust my eyes.You know how jauntily she bore herself—How daintily she dressed? Well—that’sall changed!Pale, wasted to a shadow—draggletailed—Dressed in torn rags—bare-footed, and bare-headed!A beggar!Bar.I remember how she sneeredAt my blue gown trimmed with peach-coloured ribbon.Well, Heaven has punished her forthat.Bess.But say—Did she address you?Aga.Yes, she spoke my name.I started, and I recognized her. Well,I mumbled forth some words—I scarce know what—And, all a-fluster, gathered up my skirts,And ran as though a ghost were at my heels.Bar.And you did wisely. Honest working girlsShould shun such brazen creatures!Bess.Soft—she’s here![Lisacomes down avenue; she is dressed in torn and travel-stained rags, as described. As she comes down the girls turn away from her.Lisa.Well, girls,Do you not know me, that you turn from me?Or has the misery of twelve black monthsSo sadly changed me?Bess.(sighing).Yes, we know you well!Bar.(spitefully). Too well!Lisa.Is there no pity for me in your hearts?Is there no pardon for such sin as mine?See—I am cold and hungry—travel-worn—Broken in spirit, humbled and forsaken.Oh, I have paid a penalty!Bar.No doubtWe knew you would.Bess.(aside toBarbara). I’m sorry for the girl;We’ve known her all our lives. With all her faults,We loved her well, when she was one of us.Bar.When she was one of us? Of course—becauseShe thenwasone of us. But when a man—A married man—elopes with one of us(Which happens sometimes), why, that one of usNo longer claims to rank as one of us;And so the cause of love exists no longer.Aga.That’s true, indeed!Lisa.Have you no charity?Is there no eloquence to touch your heartsIn this wan, wasted form—these wretched rags?Why, look at me!Bar.There is a certain frock,Blue, trimmed with peach—not much the worse for wear—That’s humbly at your service. (Curtsying mockingly.)Bess.Spare her, pray!Lisa.Ay, spare me, bitter hearts! Who can foresee?A year ago, I was as one of you!Another year, and you may be as I!So, better spare me, lest it come to passThat you have judged yourselves in judging me.Well, well, the river’s near!EnterGretchen.Gret.Why, who is this?Lisa! (Taking her hand.)Lisa.Hold! Ere you take my hand in yours,Remember what I am and what I’ve done.I am an outcast, cheated and betrayed.He swore to marry me—well, I believed him,And when I looked to him to keep his promise,He told me of his wife. There, that’s my story.Go wash your hand!Gret.Poor bruised and broken heart—Be comforted. Why, I have prayed and prayedFor thy return—and see, my prayer is heard!Poor wanderer! Our hearts were sore for thee,Ay, very sore—and I remember wellHow Barbara wept when the sad tidings came,And vowed she’d rather lose her best ten yearsThan this had happened.Bar.Yes, and so I would,But it has happened—and the mischief’s done.Bess.(crying). I’m sure I loved her dearly!Aga.So did I!One can’t forget old times!Gret.Why, then be brave,And prove that thine was no fine-weather love,Poor penitent! Oh, sisters, is it fitThat we should judge our sister, or withholdThe mercy that we pray for, day by day?Lisa(surprised). Oh, Gretchen, Gretchen!Gret.Come, poor broken heart,Look up—we are thy sisters as of old.Bess.(half sobbing). If Gretchen can forgive thee, who are weThat we should hold aloof? We spake in haste;Our hearts were turned to thee, despite our words.[Bessiekisses her and exit.Bar.You told me once that I’d a bitter tongue,D’ye recollect it? Lisa, you were right.Forgive me, please; there! (Kissing her.) Never mind the frock,Though bear in mind (toAgatha) I still maintain my point,That blue and peach go very well together![ExeuntBarbaraandAgatha.Gret.Come, dry your eyes, and take good heart again.Lisa.Oh, Gretchen, Gretchen! let me weep awhile:In truth I looked for pity and for helpFrom them, for they and I had much in common;But thou, so good in all, so pure, so true——Gret.If it be good and true to close one’s heartTo sorrow such as thine, why, Heaven help me,For then I have no title to the words!See, Martha comes. She has an angry tongue,Although her heart is kindly. Get thee henceTill I have spoken to her. Here is money;Go, get thee food, and then come back to me.Take courage—Martha can refuse me nothing.It shall go hard but when thou comest backShe’ll welcome thee as I do. Fare thee well.Lisa.Those who would pray for thee have but one prayer,That earth be kind to thee, for heaven is thine,Ay, surely, surely thine.[Exit.EnterMartha, with basket.Mar.Drudge, drudge, drudge, drudge! To market seven miles,And seven home again! It’s a hard life,And tells upon me sorely! All this comesOf marrying a bad man—a bad, poor man.But there, he’s at the wars—God keep him there!Ah, Gretchen, Gretchen, be advised by me;And promise me that when thy heart’s in danger,Thou’lt come to me, that I may counsel theeOut of the wealth of my experience—The only wealth I have. Come, promise me.Gret.I do. (Pauses; then timidly) In proof of my sincerityI will begin to-day. Ihaveseen oneWhom I could love.Mar.(amazed).Why, Gretchen, what’s all this?Doth he love thee?Gret.Ay, for he told me so.Mar.He told thee so! And when?Gret.Last night.Mar.Last night!Gret.Or stay—it might have been betimes this morning.Mar.Last night! This morning! Gretchen! Where wast thouLast night—this morning!Gret.Why, within thy house.Mar.And there thy lover saw thee—spake to thee,Within my house—alone—at dead of night!Gretchen, for shame! Art thou as other girls?Who is the reprobate?Gret.I cannot say.I do not think he is a reprobate.Mar.His name?Gret.I do not know.Mar.His rank—his calling?Gret.I cannot tell.Mar.Why, Gretchen, I’m aghast!Gret.Nay, I’ll not plague thee with half-hidden truths,I’ll tell thee all, and thou shalt counsel me.Last night I slept—it might have been this morning,I cannot tell—and, as I slept, methoughtThat as I wandered all alone, amidThe moonlight tombs of some old cloistered square,I saw a man, arrayed in monkish frock,And yet (so much at variance with themselvesAre sleeping fantasies) he was no monk,But some young errant knight of noble rank,The very flower of gentle chivalry!Entranced, I gazed upon him, marvelling muchThat aught of mortal mould could be so fair;(’Twas but a dream—we cannot frame our dreams)And as I gazed, methought he knelt him down,And vowed himself to me, for evermore!There—read me that!Mar.I will. Now, mark my words,The lover whom thou seest in a dreamWill, in due season, court thee—in a dream.And, if the courtship prosper, as it will,Some day, perhaps, he’ll wed thee—in a dream.Then after many long and life-like dreamsOf married misery, black looks, rough words,Hard blows and mutual discontent, thou’lt wakeAnd bless thy lucky stars it was a dream!Dream on, my child, pray thou mayst never wake,As I have done. Come, there is work to do.[Exeunt together.EnterFaustusandMephisto.Faus.At last, at last—unless my heart deceives me,Here is the glade, and that should be her house.Meph.Ay, that’s the house that holds the guardian maidWho is to lead you whither you should go,And save your lordship from yourself—and me.Henceforth that hovel is to be your church,With savoury fumes of roast and boiled for incense;The dim recesses of the chimney cornerWill serve you as a snug confessional.How say you? Will you enter? If you do,You’ll find the fair high priestess of the shrineIntent upon the secular employOf hanging clothes to dry. Or will you waitUntil my pretty enemy is freeTo enter on her spiritual functions?Faus.Peace! mocking spirit. Stay thy ribald tongue.Dost thou, whom none believe, believe in none?Meph.Nay, I’m the most confiding soul alive.I credit all I’m told. Not by the tongue—Men do not speak to me with tongues. No, no.Man keeps his words and deeds for man’s behoof.They speak a language that I cannot fathom.Iread the heart and brain, and alltheytell me,With childlike faith, I readily accept.Faus.I would my heart were as an open book,That all might read therein! But who comes here?By all the powers that rule mischance, ’tis Gottfried!What shall I do? How justify myselfIn my old comrade’s eyes?Meph.Leave that to me.Bear yourself boldly; put a good face on’t,And I will frame excuses that will serve.EnterGottfried.Gott.Here is the well-loved home! Ah, Gretchen, Gretchen!When shall we meet again? Or shall we meet?God knows! I go where death is freely dealt,And I may fall—— Well, she will weep for me. (SeesFaustus.)Whom have we here? Either my senses cheat me,Or this is Faustus! Faustus, as I live!Faustus unfrocked! Faustus unsanctified!Faustus re-butterflied in bravery!Faus.Ay, Gottfried, I am Faustus—in the flesh.Gott.Now here’s a riddle, and I wait the answer.But yesterday thou wast a hooded monk,A pale, cold, stern, and sour Dominican;A human tombstone, sculptured by thyself,In honour of thy dead and buried follies.To-day I find the tombstone taken down,And all the follies risen from the dead!Meph.He was misled—his follies cheated him.Believing they were dead, to all intent,In decency he raised a monument;But finding them alive beneath his gown,In decency he took the tombstone down.Gott.It is enough for me that thou art free.Welcome once more to life and liberty!(ToMephisto.) Sir, in the name of all good fellowship,I thank you for your charitable office.Faus.Now tell me, Gottfried, wherefore art thou here?Gott.I come, as yesterday I said I should,To bid a long farewell to cousin Gretchen.Faus.To Gretchen?Gott.Ay, the maid of whom I spake.Faus.Ishername Gretchen?Gott.Yes—she lives hard by,With Mistress Martha. Faustus, thou shalt see her,And join with me in worship at her shrine.Faus.(confused). I understand—my words have weighed with thee,And thou hast come to tell her of thy love.Gott.Not I, indeed; despite thine eloquence,I’m going from her for a weary while,Maybe for ever. That will give her sorrow,Sorrow enough. I would not add to itBy telling her of such poor love as mineFor all the world holds dear. Some day, please Heaven,I shall return with honours to my name(If honours lie within my grasp, I’ll grasp them),And then, if I’ve a name worth offering,Maybe I’ll pluck up heart. Not now, not now.But hush, she comes.EnterGretchen.Gretchen, my sister Gretchen!Gret.Gottfried! I am right glad to welcome thee,My dear, dear brother! Art thou come for long?Gott.Nay, Gretchen, I am with my troop of horse.We march to Dettingen, and being hereI stole a brief half hour to say farewell.Gret.(alarmed). Thou art not going to the war?Gott.No, no!Mere frontier duty, Gretchen; nothing more.(Aside.) May Heaven forgive me—that’s a downright lie!Gret.I breathe again. (SeesFaustus.) Who is this gentleman?(With intense surprise.)Gott.This is my very dear and tried friend, Faustus,The truest fellow that the wide world holds.Faustus, this is my gentle cousin Gretchen.Gret.(agitated). Surely I dream again! Oh, marvellous!The very face and form!Gott.Come, Gretchen, speak.Gret.(much agitated). I give you honest welcome, noble sir;As you are Gottfried’s friend, so are you ours.Faus.I thank you, lady.Gott.Well, and is that all?“I thank you, lady!” Come, thou shamefaced knight,Where are thy words? Gretchen, be not deceived—Hehatha tongue—a very fluent tongue,And one that serves him well, when he so pleases.Faus.I am not dumb from lack of gratitude.Much as I owe to Gottfried’s well-tried love,My heavy debt is multiplied tenfold.Gott.(aside toFaustus). Then, debtor, pay the tenfold debt tenfold.Watch over her when I am far away—Shield her from harm as though she were thy sister,And we’ll cry quits. Thou wilt? I thank thee, Faustus;I go with lighter heart! (Aloud toGretchen.) Now, fare thee well.God keep thee safe and sound till I return.Gret.Farewell, dear Gottfried—think of me at times.My heart is full—then read it in my eyes.May Heaven shield thee from all harm!Gott.Amen.And now to horse—nay, not another word,Or I shall lack the heart to go at all.Farewell—once more and only once—farewell![ExitGottfried.Gret.(timidly). Sir, will you enter? Our poor home is near,And Mistress Martha will be glad to greet you.You are an old friend of my cousin Gottfried?Faus.Ay, lady.Gret.Nay, you must not call me “lady;”I am a peasant girl—my name is Gretchen.Faus.And may I call thee Gretchen?Gret.Willingly.All call me Gretchen.Faus.Gottfried calls thee Gretchen.I thought he claimed a cousin’s privilege.Gret.Does Gottfried speak of me?Faus.He does indeed,And in such terms of glowing eulogyI almost feared that he had gained thy heart.Gret.Feared!Faus.Pardon me. I spake unwittingly.His welfare should be very dear to me,And, therefore, I should rather hope than fear.Gret.Gottfried has been my brother all my life.I would not own another man as brother:Nor would I have him aught but honest “brother.”I love him dearly—dearly. Twice a dayI say a prayer for him, and he for me.He is my brother. Every hope of hisIs hope of mine. When trouble falls on himIt falls alike on me—he is my brother.And when he comes—as one day he will come—To tell me of some good and gentle girlWho worthily has won his honest heart,I’ll throw my loving arms around her neck,And call her “sister,” as I call him “brother.”Faus.Now Heaven forgive me, but those words of thineHave freed my bosom from a load of care!Gret.Didst thou then think I loved him not?Faus.Nay, nay.I feared thy love was more than sister-love.Gret.Dost thou then fear the love that tends to wedlock?Meph.(aside). Not he!Faus.I hold that truest happinessIs born of wedlock.Meph.(aside). Bravo, celibate!Gret.And yet it much rejoiceth thee to knowThat cousin Gottfried hath no thought of wedlock?Faus.Nay, maiden, it rejoiceth me to knowThat cousin Gretchen hath no thought of wedlock.Gret.Thou dost not wish me happy, then?Faus.My heart!I would it were my care to make thee happy!Gret.Now I am sorely puzzled!Meph.(aside).And no wonder!Gret.Thou wishest Gottfried happy, and me happy;In wedlock, only, is true happiness;And yet, forsooth, it much rejoiceth theeTo know that he and I are not to wed!Meph.(aside). Pretty logician! A dilemma, truly!Faus.Nay, Gretchen, better let the riddle restTill time shall solve it!Gret.Pray forgive me, sir.I do not doubt thy words are learned words.Small wonder that I cannot fathom them.Mar.(without). Come, Gretchen! Gretchen!Meph.(aside).Bah! she’ll ruin all!How these old ladies always interfere!EnterMartha.Mar.Why, who is this?Gret.A friend of cousin Gottfried,A very old and very trusty friend;And so, a very trusty friend of ours.Mar.We give you welcome, sir. Our home is poor,But wholly at your service. (Aside.) By the mass,A very straight, and well-favoured gentleman!Meph.(aside). She’ll never leave him. I must interfere.(Coming forward.) Pray pardon this intrusion——Mar.Who is this?Meph.(to Gretchen). Do I address Dame Martha?Gret.No, indeed,My name is Gretchen—this is Mistress Martha.Meph.A thousand pardons for my clumsy error.Misled by a description—“tall and fair,Eighteen, and very beautiful.” The wordsApply, with equal truth, to both the ladies.Mar.You’re vastly civil, sir! (Aside.) Upon my word,It rains well-spoken, proper gentlemen!Meph.Sisters, of course?Mar.Nay, she’s my sister’s child(Hastily.) My sister was, by many years, my senior!Meph.That’s evident. I bring you doleful news—Yet news not altogether dolorous;There is a certain spice of comfort in’t—Yet not so much of comfort, I’m afraid,As to disguise its not unpleasant bitter.Mar.Your words alarm me! Pray forgive me, sir,Are you a lawyer?Meph.I’m the prince of lawyers.Mar.I am your servant, sir! (Curtsying.)Meph.I’m glad to hear it!But pardon me, the news I have to tellIs for your ears alone.Mar.(toGretchen, who is conversing withFaustus).Go, Gretchen dear,And show the gentleman the Lover’s Glen.Meph.Take heed—the path is dangerously steep—Be sure you do not trip, my pretty maid.Gret.I thank you, sir. I know its pitfalls well,And how to pass them safely. (ToFaustus.) Wilt thou come?Faus.To the world’s end, fair maiden, an thou wilt.Gret.(laughing). Nay, I’ll not pledge thee to so long a journey,The road is short.Mar.But very perilous.Meph.It is, indeed!Faus.Wilt trust thy hand in mine?Mar.Ay, take his hand—you will be safer so.Meph.(aside). I doubt it much.[FaustusandGretchengo down incline.Mar.Now we are quite alone.Meph.The news I bring you is about your husband.Mar.My husband! he’s not coming back!Meph.No, no—It’s not as bad as that.Mar.(relieved).You frightened me!Meph.(with emotion). He never will come back.Mar.What mean you, sir?Meph.I mean that, fighting bravely ’gainst the Turks,An arrow struck him—and—— (Faltering.)Mar.(affected).I guess your meaning!This is sad news, indeed! Alack-a-day,I never wished his death! With all his faults,He was no worse than other husbands are!Meph.A most affecting tribute to his worth.Pray pardon my emotion; I’ve a heartThat melts at weeping women.Mar.Pray go on;I’ll try to stem my tears. Left he a will?Meph.He did—a very good and Christian will.Mar.Hewasa Christian!Meph.(sighing).Ah! His will directsThat you shall spend on masses for his soul,Five hundred marks.Mar.(indignantly). Five hundred fiddlesticks!A wicked waste!Meph.Well, knowing all I knowAbout his mode of life, I must admitItisa waste; but so his will directs.Mar.And is that all? Left he no parting wordsOf penitence?Meph.Oh yes; as death drew near,He much bewailed his manifold transgressionsAnd said that he could die more tranquillyHad he his wife’s forgiveness.Mar.Poor dear soul!I could forgive him, freely, everything,Except those masses!Meph.“Though it’s true,” said he,“In all our quarrels, and we’d many quarrels,She was invariably to blame.”Mar.A lie!A most observable and shameless lie!Meph.Alas! I fear that, as a rule, his wordsWere not distinguished by that love of truthThat you and I deem indispensable.For instance, he declared that earning breadTo feed so many mouths took all his time,And left no moment he could call his own!Mar.Again, a lie! I drudged from morn to nightTo feed and clothe his famished family,While he sat all day fuddling at the ale-house!Alas, he never cared for wife or child!Meph.Nay, there you wrong him. Give the deuce his due.Before he sailed he prayed to all the saintsTo bless his arms with full prosperity;So that, if he in battle should be slain,His widow yet might live in luxury.Mar.Poor soul! poor soul! Did Heaven so bless them?Meph.Yes.His prayer was heard. Some seven months agoHe helped to take a Turkish galley, fraughtWith countless treasure.Mar.Why, that was well done.Brave man!Meph.Brave man!Mar.And what got he by that?Meph.His share of prize-money—twelve thousand marks!Mar.Twelve thousand marks! a fortune in itself!May Heaven forgive me all my angry words!He had a brave good heart. Where is the money?Meph.Ask his good heart. He never could resistA tale of sorrow eloquently told.Mar.(alarmed). What mean you?Meph.When at Naples, shortly after,He saw a girl—young, beautiful, but poor—A very child, scarce seventeen years old.His tender heart gave way; she was so poor,And then so very young—scarce seventeen!He gave it all to her.Mar.All!Meph.Every florin.But then, she was so young—scarce seventeen——Mar.At his old tricks! Then there is nothing left?Meph.You wrong him there; he left a priceless treasure,Compared with which his other paltry gainsSink into nothingness—a charming widow!Mar.You’re very good.Meph.I speak the simple truth.Come, take good heart. You waste your tears uponA man who priced you far below your worth.You’re young, and (pardon me) attractive still.Spend one chaste year of lonely widowhood,Then seek a better husband.Mar.As for that,With all his faults, I might wed worse than he.(Sobbing.) He was a kindly fool!Meph.Forgiving soul!Angelic tolerance! Ah, were I sureThat you would treatmyfaults as leniently,I should be almost tempted to——Mar.To what?Oh, sir, you’re surely jesting!Meph.Not at all.(Aside.) I’d better change the subject. This old girlWould take the very devil at his word.They’re coming back. (Aloud.) We’ll talk of this anon—After a year—or two—or three——Mar.We will![Exeunt together, asFaustusandGretchenappear at back.Faus.That, Gretchen, wasmydream.Gret.Oh, marvellous!That thou and I—each stranger to the other—Should thus have peopled each the other’s vision!I tremble when I think on’t.Faus.Wherefore so?Was then the vision so distasteful?Gret.Nay,I said not so; but that we two should dreamAs we have dreamt—’tis not in nature!Faus.PromiseThat if again thou seest me in a dreamThou’lt tell me all—the part I play therein—The words I speak to thee, and thou to me.Gret.(confused). Perhaps. It may be so. I will not promise.Faus.Tell me again—Gottfried—thou dost not love him?Gret.He is my brother, sir!Faus.So he be alway!There is, perchance, some other envied manTo whom the flower of thine heart is given?Gret.Indeed, I have no lover, sir.Faus.None?Gret.None.Faus.Thy time will come!Gret.Perhaps!Faus.Give me thy hand—I’ll read thy fortune, Gretchen.Gret.Wonderful!Canst thou read fortunes? (Giving her hand.)Faus.Ay, indifferent well. (Playing with her hand.)Gret.Speak, sir; I listen.Faus.(still playing with her hand). ’Tis a soft white hand!Gret.(demurely). My fortune, sir.Faus.(recollecting himself). True, true, thy fortune! Come. (Looking at her palm.)Ah, Gretchen, Gretchen, be thou on thy guard!There cometh one to woo thee. Oh, beware,Take heed of him—he is no honest man!Gret.And do I know him, sir?Faus.Ay, in some sort,Thou knowest his smooth face, his specious tongue;But there is that within his evil heartOf which thou knowest little! Oh, my child,Beware of him! My child, beware of him!Gret.Why comes this wicked man to such as I?I would not aid him in his wickedness.Faus.In sad and sorrowing heart he comes to thee,That he may learn the lesson of thy life.He comes to thee in the fond, foolish hopeThat the pure influence of such love as thineMay quell the evil angel at his side;For wicked as he is, he loveth thee,With all his poor frail heart he loveth thee!Gret.’Tis a strange fortune! I, an untaught girl,Can teach but little. But if such a oneCome to me sorrowing for his bygone sins,E’en though I loved him not,In pity I would strive, with all my heart,To help him, even as I pray for help.I do not know why I should fear this man.Faus.(earnestly). Because, with all his sorrow, he is false—False to himself, and, maybe, false to thee.Oh, Gretchen, deal not lightly with my words;Weigh them, and weigh them, o’er and o’er again.And when thou kneelest by thy bed to-night,Pray thou for strength as thou hast never prayed;Pray for a brave and staunch and steadfast heart—Steadfast to aid this poor weak wandererUpon the holy path that thou hast chosen.But above all, beyond all, and before all,Steadfast to pluck the traitor from thineIf, in the depth of his mortality,He strive to gain thee by unholy means!Gret.(quietly). I will take heed, sir. (Rising and going.)Faus.Gretchen—leave me not.Gret.I go to seek a poor lost, friendless girl,Who waits for me hard by. I thank you, sir—I take your kindly counsel in good part.Thou dost not know the sad and solemn lessonThat her poor blighted heart hath taught us all.For she was wont to laugh as the birds sing,From very wealth of idle happiness!It seems so strange that she should not have died.Faus.God save thee from such harm! (Releasing her.)Gret.Amen! amen![Exit.Faus.(stands as if entranced for a moment; then suddenly)Why, whither am I going? Grace of Heaven!Have I been blind? Fool! poor, self-cheating fool!Stop, while thou mayst—thine eyes are open now!What seest thou?Hell against heaven—and thou allied with hell![Mephistoappears and listens.What seest thou? A pure and blameless child,Trustful as innocence—her gentle soul,Calm as a lake in heaven—her angel face,God’s work,Untainted by man’s desecrating touch!And, at her side,A scheming mummer, tricked in godly garb—His tongue all plausible, his heart all false—His lying manhood traitor to itself!Faustus, mine enemy, I know thee now!Faustus, mine enemy, I know thee now!Meph.Shake off thy Churchman’s qualms. Thou art a man,Wast once a soldier ere thou wast a priest.Has monkish milk so curdled the hot bloodThat bore thee ever where the fight was thickest,That this raw girl—this butter-churning doll,Hath turned thee chicken-hearted?Faus.Hold thy peace,Accursed fiend, nor dare to breathehername.Deal thou with me—let Heaven deal with heaven,I go from her—God shield her from all harm!Meph.Hush, not so loud, she’ll hear you. See, she comes![Gretchenappears at back, picking petals from a daisy as she advances.Gret.He loves me—he loves me not!He loves me—he loves me not!Meph.(aside toFaustus). Too late, too late! her heart is given to thee;Her love is not as other women’s love.Take thyself hence and she will surely die![Faustuswatches her, entranced.Gret.(with increased anxiety).He loves me—he loves me not!He loves me—he loves me not!Meph.See how she trembles as the petals fall.Poor child, poor child!She trusts her simple charm, and should it fail,Her heart will break! Have pity on her, Faustus!Gret.He loves me—he loves me not!He loves me—he loves me not! (She picks the last petal.)Oh, Heaven, have mercy!Faus.(breaking fromMephisto, and rushing to her).Gretchen, dearly loved!Mistrust thy charm! By Heaven that hears me now,He loves thee, Gretchen! loves thee, loves thee, loves thee![Gretchengives a cry of joy and surprise, then falls weeping on his neck.Mephistoat back, laughing cynically.

Scene.—A glade. On the right a precipitous descent through the stage at the back; on the left an avenue of trees.

Barbara,Bessie, and others discovered; to them entersAgatha.

Aga.Oh, Bessie—Barbara! Such dreadful news!

Bess.News!

Bar.Quick! What is it?

Aga.Lisa has returned!Lisa, who ran away with the rich merchantA year ago!

Aga.Lisa has returned!

Lisa, who ran away with the rich merchant

A year ago!

Bar.A wicked, wicked girl!I hope she won’t come here!

Bar.A wicked, wicked girl!

I hope she won’t come here!

Bess.And have you seen her?

Aga.I met her only half an hour agoUpon the Leipzic road!

Aga.I met her only half an hour ago

Upon the Leipzic road!

Bess.Is she much changed?

Aga.Changed! Why, at first I couldn’t trust my eyes.You know how jauntily she bore herself—How daintily she dressed? Well—that’sall changed!Pale, wasted to a shadow—draggletailed—Dressed in torn rags—bare-footed, and bare-headed!A beggar!

Aga.Changed! Why, at first I couldn’t trust my eyes.

You know how jauntily she bore herself—

How daintily she dressed? Well—that’sall changed!

Pale, wasted to a shadow—draggletailed—

Dressed in torn rags—bare-footed, and bare-headed!

A beggar!

Bar.I remember how she sneeredAt my blue gown trimmed with peach-coloured ribbon.Well, Heaven has punished her forthat.

Bar.I remember how she sneered

At my blue gown trimmed with peach-coloured ribbon.

Well, Heaven has punished her forthat.

Bess.But say—Did she address you?

Bess.But say—

Did she address you?

Aga.Yes, she spoke my name.I started, and I recognized her. Well,I mumbled forth some words—I scarce know what—And, all a-fluster, gathered up my skirts,And ran as though a ghost were at my heels.

Aga.Yes, she spoke my name.

I started, and I recognized her. Well,

I mumbled forth some words—I scarce know what—

And, all a-fluster, gathered up my skirts,

And ran as though a ghost were at my heels.

Bar.And you did wisely. Honest working girlsShould shun such brazen creatures!

Bar.And you did wisely. Honest working girls

Should shun such brazen creatures!

Bess.Soft—she’s here!

[Lisacomes down avenue; she is dressed in torn and travel-stained rags, as described. As she comes down the girls turn away from her.

Lisa.Well, girls,Do you not know me, that you turn from me?Or has the misery of twelve black monthsSo sadly changed me?

Lisa.Well, girls,

Do you not know me, that you turn from me?

Or has the misery of twelve black months

So sadly changed me?

Bess.(sighing).Yes, we know you well!

Bar.(spitefully). Too well!

Lisa.Is there no pity for me in your hearts?Is there no pardon for such sin as mine?See—I am cold and hungry—travel-worn—Broken in spirit, humbled and forsaken.Oh, I have paid a penalty!

Lisa.Is there no pity for me in your hearts?

Is there no pardon for such sin as mine?

See—I am cold and hungry—travel-worn—

Broken in spirit, humbled and forsaken.

Oh, I have paid a penalty!

Bar.No doubtWe knew you would.

Bar.No doubt

We knew you would.

Bess.(aside toBarbara). I’m sorry for the girl;We’ve known her all our lives. With all her faults,We loved her well, when she was one of us.

Bess.(aside toBarbara). I’m sorry for the girl;

We’ve known her all our lives. With all her faults,

We loved her well, when she was one of us.

Bar.When she was one of us? Of course—becauseShe thenwasone of us. But when a man—A married man—elopes with one of us(Which happens sometimes), why, that one of usNo longer claims to rank as one of us;And so the cause of love exists no longer.

Bar.When she was one of us? Of course—because

She thenwasone of us. But when a man—

A married man—elopes with one of us

(Which happens sometimes), why, that one of us

No longer claims to rank as one of us;

And so the cause of love exists no longer.

Aga.That’s true, indeed!

Lisa.Have you no charity?Is there no eloquence to touch your heartsIn this wan, wasted form—these wretched rags?Why, look at me!

Lisa.Have you no charity?

Is there no eloquence to touch your hearts

In this wan, wasted form—these wretched rags?

Why, look at me!

Bar.There is a certain frock,Blue, trimmed with peach—not much the worse for wear—That’s humbly at your service. (Curtsying mockingly.)

Bar.There is a certain frock,

Blue, trimmed with peach—not much the worse for wear—

That’s humbly at your service. (Curtsying mockingly.)

Bess.Spare her, pray!

Lisa.Ay, spare me, bitter hearts! Who can foresee?A year ago, I was as one of you!Another year, and you may be as I!So, better spare me, lest it come to passThat you have judged yourselves in judging me.Well, well, the river’s near!

Lisa.Ay, spare me, bitter hearts! Who can foresee?

A year ago, I was as one of you!

Another year, and you may be as I!

So, better spare me, lest it come to pass

That you have judged yourselves in judging me.

Well, well, the river’s near!

EnterGretchen.

Gret.Why, who is this?Lisa! (Taking her hand.)

Gret.Why, who is this?

Lisa! (Taking her hand.)

Lisa.Hold! Ere you take my hand in yours,Remember what I am and what I’ve done.I am an outcast, cheated and betrayed.He swore to marry me—well, I believed him,And when I looked to him to keep his promise,He told me of his wife. There, that’s my story.Go wash your hand!

Lisa.Hold! Ere you take my hand in yours,

Remember what I am and what I’ve done.

I am an outcast, cheated and betrayed.

He swore to marry me—well, I believed him,

And when I looked to him to keep his promise,

He told me of his wife. There, that’s my story.

Go wash your hand!

Gret.Poor bruised and broken heart—Be comforted. Why, I have prayed and prayedFor thy return—and see, my prayer is heard!Poor wanderer! Our hearts were sore for thee,Ay, very sore—and I remember wellHow Barbara wept when the sad tidings came,And vowed she’d rather lose her best ten yearsThan this had happened.

Gret.Poor bruised and broken heart—

Be comforted. Why, I have prayed and prayed

For thy return—and see, my prayer is heard!

Poor wanderer! Our hearts were sore for thee,

Ay, very sore—and I remember well

How Barbara wept when the sad tidings came,

And vowed she’d rather lose her best ten years

Than this had happened.

Bar.Yes, and so I would,But it has happened—and the mischief’s done.

Bar.Yes, and so I would,

But it has happened—and the mischief’s done.

Bess.(crying). I’m sure I loved her dearly!

Aga.So did I!One can’t forget old times!

Aga.So did I!

One can’t forget old times!

Gret.Why, then be brave,And prove that thine was no fine-weather love,Poor penitent! Oh, sisters, is it fitThat we should judge our sister, or withholdThe mercy that we pray for, day by day?

Gret.Why, then be brave,

And prove that thine was no fine-weather love,

Poor penitent! Oh, sisters, is it fit

That we should judge our sister, or withhold

The mercy that we pray for, day by day?

Lisa(surprised). Oh, Gretchen, Gretchen!

Gret.Come, poor broken heart,Look up—we are thy sisters as of old.

Gret.Come, poor broken heart,

Look up—we are thy sisters as of old.

Bess.(half sobbing). If Gretchen can forgive thee, who are weThat we should hold aloof? We spake in haste;Our hearts were turned to thee, despite our words.[Bessiekisses her and exit.

Bess.(half sobbing). If Gretchen can forgive thee, who are we

That we should hold aloof? We spake in haste;

Our hearts were turned to thee, despite our words.

[Bessiekisses her and exit.

Bar.You told me once that I’d a bitter tongue,D’ye recollect it? Lisa, you were right.Forgive me, please; there! (Kissing her.) Never mind the frock,Though bear in mind (toAgatha) I still maintain my point,That blue and peach go very well together![ExeuntBarbaraandAgatha.

Bar.You told me once that I’d a bitter tongue,

D’ye recollect it? Lisa, you were right.

Forgive me, please; there! (Kissing her.) Never mind the frock,

Though bear in mind (toAgatha) I still maintain my point,

That blue and peach go very well together!

[ExeuntBarbaraandAgatha.

Gret.Come, dry your eyes, and take good heart again.

Lisa.Oh, Gretchen, Gretchen! let me weep awhile:In truth I looked for pity and for helpFrom them, for they and I had much in common;But thou, so good in all, so pure, so true——

Lisa.Oh, Gretchen, Gretchen! let me weep awhile:

In truth I looked for pity and for help

From them, for they and I had much in common;

But thou, so good in all, so pure, so true——

Gret.If it be good and true to close one’s heartTo sorrow such as thine, why, Heaven help me,For then I have no title to the words!See, Martha comes. She has an angry tongue,Although her heart is kindly. Get thee henceTill I have spoken to her. Here is money;Go, get thee food, and then come back to me.Take courage—Martha can refuse me nothing.It shall go hard but when thou comest backShe’ll welcome thee as I do. Fare thee well.

Gret.If it be good and true to close one’s heart

To sorrow such as thine, why, Heaven help me,

For then I have no title to the words!

See, Martha comes. She has an angry tongue,

Although her heart is kindly. Get thee hence

Till I have spoken to her. Here is money;

Go, get thee food, and then come back to me.

Take courage—Martha can refuse me nothing.

It shall go hard but when thou comest back

She’ll welcome thee as I do. Fare thee well.

Lisa.Those who would pray for thee have but one prayer,That earth be kind to thee, for heaven is thine,Ay, surely, surely thine.[Exit.

Lisa.Those who would pray for thee have but one prayer,

That earth be kind to thee, for heaven is thine,

Ay, surely, surely thine.

[Exit.

EnterMartha, with basket.

Mar.Drudge, drudge, drudge, drudge! To market seven miles,And seven home again! It’s a hard life,And tells upon me sorely! All this comesOf marrying a bad man—a bad, poor man.But there, he’s at the wars—God keep him there!Ah, Gretchen, Gretchen, be advised by me;And promise me that when thy heart’s in danger,Thou’lt come to me, that I may counsel theeOut of the wealth of my experience—The only wealth I have. Come, promise me.

Mar.Drudge, drudge, drudge, drudge! To market seven miles,

And seven home again! It’s a hard life,

And tells upon me sorely! All this comes

Of marrying a bad man—a bad, poor man.

But there, he’s at the wars—God keep him there!

Ah, Gretchen, Gretchen, be advised by me;

And promise me that when thy heart’s in danger,

Thou’lt come to me, that I may counsel thee

Out of the wealth of my experience—

The only wealth I have. Come, promise me.

Gret.I do. (Pauses; then timidly) In proof of my sincerityI will begin to-day. Ihaveseen oneWhom I could love.

Gret.I do. (Pauses; then timidly) In proof of my sincerity

I will begin to-day. Ihaveseen one

Whom I could love.

Mar.(amazed).Why, Gretchen, what’s all this?Doth he love thee?

Mar.(amazed).Why, Gretchen, what’s all this?

Doth he love thee?

Gret.Ay, for he told me so.

Mar.He told thee so! And when?

Gret.Last night.

Mar.Last night!

Gret.Or stay—it might have been betimes this morning.

Mar.Last night! This morning! Gretchen! Where wast thouLast night—this morning!

Mar.Last night! This morning! Gretchen! Where wast thou

Last night—this morning!

Gret.Why, within thy house.

Mar.And there thy lover saw thee—spake to thee,Within my house—alone—at dead of night!Gretchen, for shame! Art thou as other girls?Who is the reprobate?

Mar.And there thy lover saw thee—spake to thee,

Within my house—alone—at dead of night!

Gretchen, for shame! Art thou as other girls?

Who is the reprobate?

Gret.I cannot say.I do not think he is a reprobate.

Gret.I cannot say.

I do not think he is a reprobate.

Mar.His name?

Gret.I do not know.

Mar.His rank—his calling?

Gret.I cannot tell.

Mar.Why, Gretchen, I’m aghast!

Gret.Nay, I’ll not plague thee with half-hidden truths,I’ll tell thee all, and thou shalt counsel me.Last night I slept—it might have been this morning,I cannot tell—and, as I slept, methoughtThat as I wandered all alone, amidThe moonlight tombs of some old cloistered square,I saw a man, arrayed in monkish frock,And yet (so much at variance with themselvesAre sleeping fantasies) he was no monk,But some young errant knight of noble rank,The very flower of gentle chivalry!Entranced, I gazed upon him, marvelling muchThat aught of mortal mould could be so fair;(’Twas but a dream—we cannot frame our dreams)And as I gazed, methought he knelt him down,And vowed himself to me, for evermore!There—read me that!

Gret.Nay, I’ll not plague thee with half-hidden truths,

I’ll tell thee all, and thou shalt counsel me.

Last night I slept—it might have been this morning,

I cannot tell—and, as I slept, methought

That as I wandered all alone, amid

The moonlight tombs of some old cloistered square,

I saw a man, arrayed in monkish frock,

And yet (so much at variance with themselves

Are sleeping fantasies) he was no monk,

But some young errant knight of noble rank,

The very flower of gentle chivalry!

Entranced, I gazed upon him, marvelling much

That aught of mortal mould could be so fair;

(’Twas but a dream—we cannot frame our dreams)

And as I gazed, methought he knelt him down,

And vowed himself to me, for evermore!

There—read me that!

Mar.I will. Now, mark my words,The lover whom thou seest in a dreamWill, in due season, court thee—in a dream.And, if the courtship prosper, as it will,Some day, perhaps, he’ll wed thee—in a dream.Then after many long and life-like dreamsOf married misery, black looks, rough words,Hard blows and mutual discontent, thou’lt wakeAnd bless thy lucky stars it was a dream!Dream on, my child, pray thou mayst never wake,As I have done. Come, there is work to do.[Exeunt together.

Mar.I will. Now, mark my words,

The lover whom thou seest in a dream

Will, in due season, court thee—in a dream.

And, if the courtship prosper, as it will,

Some day, perhaps, he’ll wed thee—in a dream.

Then after many long and life-like dreams

Of married misery, black looks, rough words,

Hard blows and mutual discontent, thou’lt wake

And bless thy lucky stars it was a dream!

Dream on, my child, pray thou mayst never wake,

As I have done. Come, there is work to do.

[Exeunt together.

EnterFaustusandMephisto.

Faus.At last, at last—unless my heart deceives me,Here is the glade, and that should be her house.

Faus.At last, at last—unless my heart deceives me,

Here is the glade, and that should be her house.

Meph.Ay, that’s the house that holds the guardian maidWho is to lead you whither you should go,And save your lordship from yourself—and me.Henceforth that hovel is to be your church,With savoury fumes of roast and boiled for incense;The dim recesses of the chimney cornerWill serve you as a snug confessional.How say you? Will you enter? If you do,You’ll find the fair high priestess of the shrineIntent upon the secular employOf hanging clothes to dry. Or will you waitUntil my pretty enemy is freeTo enter on her spiritual functions?

Meph.Ay, that’s the house that holds the guardian maid

Who is to lead you whither you should go,

And save your lordship from yourself—and me.

Henceforth that hovel is to be your church,

With savoury fumes of roast and boiled for incense;

The dim recesses of the chimney corner

Will serve you as a snug confessional.

How say you? Will you enter? If you do,

You’ll find the fair high priestess of the shrine

Intent upon the secular employ

Of hanging clothes to dry. Or will you wait

Until my pretty enemy is free

To enter on her spiritual functions?

Faus.Peace! mocking spirit. Stay thy ribald tongue.Dost thou, whom none believe, believe in none?

Faus.Peace! mocking spirit. Stay thy ribald tongue.

Dost thou, whom none believe, believe in none?

Meph.Nay, I’m the most confiding soul alive.I credit all I’m told. Not by the tongue—Men do not speak to me with tongues. No, no.Man keeps his words and deeds for man’s behoof.They speak a language that I cannot fathom.Iread the heart and brain, and alltheytell me,With childlike faith, I readily accept.

Meph.Nay, I’m the most confiding soul alive.

I credit all I’m told. Not by the tongue—

Men do not speak to me with tongues. No, no.

Man keeps his words and deeds for man’s behoof.

They speak a language that I cannot fathom.

Iread the heart and brain, and alltheytell me,

With childlike faith, I readily accept.

Faus.I would my heart were as an open book,That all might read therein! But who comes here?By all the powers that rule mischance, ’tis Gottfried!What shall I do? How justify myselfIn my old comrade’s eyes?

Faus.I would my heart were as an open book,

That all might read therein! But who comes here?

By all the powers that rule mischance, ’tis Gottfried!

What shall I do? How justify myself

In my old comrade’s eyes?

Meph.Leave that to me.Bear yourself boldly; put a good face on’t,And I will frame excuses that will serve.

Meph.Leave that to me.

Bear yourself boldly; put a good face on’t,

And I will frame excuses that will serve.

EnterGottfried.

Gott.Here is the well-loved home! Ah, Gretchen, Gretchen!When shall we meet again? Or shall we meet?God knows! I go where death is freely dealt,And I may fall—— Well, she will weep for me. (SeesFaustus.)Whom have we here? Either my senses cheat me,Or this is Faustus! Faustus, as I live!Faustus unfrocked! Faustus unsanctified!Faustus re-butterflied in bravery!

Gott.Here is the well-loved home! Ah, Gretchen, Gretchen!

When shall we meet again? Or shall we meet?

God knows! I go where death is freely dealt,

And I may fall—— Well, she will weep for me. (SeesFaustus.)

Whom have we here? Either my senses cheat me,

Or this is Faustus! Faustus, as I live!

Faustus unfrocked! Faustus unsanctified!

Faustus re-butterflied in bravery!

Faus.Ay, Gottfried, I am Faustus—in the flesh.

Gott.Now here’s a riddle, and I wait the answer.But yesterday thou wast a hooded monk,A pale, cold, stern, and sour Dominican;A human tombstone, sculptured by thyself,In honour of thy dead and buried follies.To-day I find the tombstone taken down,And all the follies risen from the dead!

Gott.Now here’s a riddle, and I wait the answer.

But yesterday thou wast a hooded monk,

A pale, cold, stern, and sour Dominican;

A human tombstone, sculptured by thyself,

In honour of thy dead and buried follies.

To-day I find the tombstone taken down,

And all the follies risen from the dead!

Meph.He was misled—his follies cheated him.Believing they were dead, to all intent,In decency he raised a monument;But finding them alive beneath his gown,In decency he took the tombstone down.

Meph.He was misled—his follies cheated him.

Believing they were dead, to all intent,

In decency he raised a monument;

But finding them alive beneath his gown,

In decency he took the tombstone down.

Gott.It is enough for me that thou art free.Welcome once more to life and liberty!(ToMephisto.) Sir, in the name of all good fellowship,I thank you for your charitable office.

Gott.It is enough for me that thou art free.

Welcome once more to life and liberty!

(ToMephisto.) Sir, in the name of all good fellowship,

I thank you for your charitable office.

Faus.Now tell me, Gottfried, wherefore art thou here?

Gott.I come, as yesterday I said I should,To bid a long farewell to cousin Gretchen.

Gott.I come, as yesterday I said I should,

To bid a long farewell to cousin Gretchen.

Faus.To Gretchen?

Gott.Ay, the maid of whom I spake.

Faus.Ishername Gretchen?

Gott.Yes—she lives hard by,With Mistress Martha. Faustus, thou shalt see her,And join with me in worship at her shrine.

Gott.Yes—she lives hard by,

With Mistress Martha. Faustus, thou shalt see her,

And join with me in worship at her shrine.

Faus.(confused). I understand—my words have weighed with thee,And thou hast come to tell her of thy love.

Faus.(confused). I understand—my words have weighed with thee,

And thou hast come to tell her of thy love.

Gott.Not I, indeed; despite thine eloquence,I’m going from her for a weary while,Maybe for ever. That will give her sorrow,Sorrow enough. I would not add to itBy telling her of such poor love as mineFor all the world holds dear. Some day, please Heaven,I shall return with honours to my name(If honours lie within my grasp, I’ll grasp them),And then, if I’ve a name worth offering,Maybe I’ll pluck up heart. Not now, not now.But hush, she comes.

Gott.Not I, indeed; despite thine eloquence,

I’m going from her for a weary while,

Maybe for ever. That will give her sorrow,

Sorrow enough. I would not add to it

By telling her of such poor love as mine

For all the world holds dear. Some day, please Heaven,

I shall return with honours to my name

(If honours lie within my grasp, I’ll grasp them),

And then, if I’ve a name worth offering,

Maybe I’ll pluck up heart. Not now, not now.

But hush, she comes.

EnterGretchen.

Gretchen, my sister Gretchen!

Gret.Gottfried! I am right glad to welcome thee,My dear, dear brother! Art thou come for long?

Gret.Gottfried! I am right glad to welcome thee,

My dear, dear brother! Art thou come for long?

Gott.Nay, Gretchen, I am with my troop of horse.We march to Dettingen, and being hereI stole a brief half hour to say farewell.

Gott.Nay, Gretchen, I am with my troop of horse.

We march to Dettingen, and being here

I stole a brief half hour to say farewell.

Gret.(alarmed). Thou art not going to the war?

Gott.No, no!Mere frontier duty, Gretchen; nothing more.(Aside.) May Heaven forgive me—that’s a downright lie!

Gott.No, no!

Mere frontier duty, Gretchen; nothing more.

(Aside.) May Heaven forgive me—that’s a downright lie!

Gret.I breathe again. (SeesFaustus.) Who is this gentleman?(With intense surprise.)

Gret.I breathe again. (SeesFaustus.) Who is this gentleman?

(With intense surprise.)

Gott.This is my very dear and tried friend, Faustus,The truest fellow that the wide world holds.Faustus, this is my gentle cousin Gretchen.

Gott.This is my very dear and tried friend, Faustus,

The truest fellow that the wide world holds.

Faustus, this is my gentle cousin Gretchen.

Gret.(agitated). Surely I dream again! Oh, marvellous!The very face and form!

Gret.(agitated). Surely I dream again! Oh, marvellous!

The very face and form!

Gott.Come, Gretchen, speak.

Gret.(much agitated). I give you honest welcome, noble sir;As you are Gottfried’s friend, so are you ours.

Gret.(much agitated). I give you honest welcome, noble sir;

As you are Gottfried’s friend, so are you ours.

Faus.I thank you, lady.

Gott.Well, and is that all?“I thank you, lady!” Come, thou shamefaced knight,Where are thy words? Gretchen, be not deceived—Hehatha tongue—a very fluent tongue,And one that serves him well, when he so pleases.

Gott.Well, and is that all?

“I thank you, lady!” Come, thou shamefaced knight,

Where are thy words? Gretchen, be not deceived—

Hehatha tongue—a very fluent tongue,

And one that serves him well, when he so pleases.

Faus.I am not dumb from lack of gratitude.Much as I owe to Gottfried’s well-tried love,My heavy debt is multiplied tenfold.

Faus.I am not dumb from lack of gratitude.

Much as I owe to Gottfried’s well-tried love,

My heavy debt is multiplied tenfold.

Gott.(aside toFaustus). Then, debtor, pay the tenfold debt tenfold.Watch over her when I am far away—Shield her from harm as though she were thy sister,And we’ll cry quits. Thou wilt? I thank thee, Faustus;I go with lighter heart! (Aloud toGretchen.) Now, fare thee well.God keep thee safe and sound till I return.

Gott.(aside toFaustus). Then, debtor, pay the tenfold debt tenfold.

Watch over her when I am far away—

Shield her from harm as though she were thy sister,

And we’ll cry quits. Thou wilt? I thank thee, Faustus;

I go with lighter heart! (Aloud toGretchen.) Now, fare thee well.

God keep thee safe and sound till I return.

Gret.Farewell, dear Gottfried—think of me at times.My heart is full—then read it in my eyes.May Heaven shield thee from all harm!

Gret.Farewell, dear Gottfried—think of me at times.

My heart is full—then read it in my eyes.

May Heaven shield thee from all harm!

Gott.Amen.And now to horse—nay, not another word,Or I shall lack the heart to go at all.Farewell—once more and only once—farewell![ExitGottfried.

Gott.Amen.

And now to horse—nay, not another word,

Or I shall lack the heart to go at all.

Farewell—once more and only once—farewell!

[ExitGottfried.

Gret.(timidly). Sir, will you enter? Our poor home is near,And Mistress Martha will be glad to greet you.You are an old friend of my cousin Gottfried?

Gret.(timidly). Sir, will you enter? Our poor home is near,

And Mistress Martha will be glad to greet you.

You are an old friend of my cousin Gottfried?

Faus.Ay, lady.

Gret.Nay, you must not call me “lady;”I am a peasant girl—my name is Gretchen.

Gret.Nay, you must not call me “lady;”

I am a peasant girl—my name is Gretchen.

Faus.And may I call thee Gretchen?

Gret.Willingly.All call me Gretchen.

Gret.Willingly.

All call me Gretchen.

Faus.Gottfried calls thee Gretchen.I thought he claimed a cousin’s privilege.

Faus.Gottfried calls thee Gretchen.

I thought he claimed a cousin’s privilege.

Gret.Does Gottfried speak of me?

Faus.He does indeed,And in such terms of glowing eulogyI almost feared that he had gained thy heart.

Faus.He does indeed,

And in such terms of glowing eulogy

I almost feared that he had gained thy heart.

Gret.Feared!

Faus.Pardon me. I spake unwittingly.His welfare should be very dear to me,And, therefore, I should rather hope than fear.

Faus.Pardon me. I spake unwittingly.

His welfare should be very dear to me,

And, therefore, I should rather hope than fear.

Gret.Gottfried has been my brother all my life.I would not own another man as brother:Nor would I have him aught but honest “brother.”I love him dearly—dearly. Twice a dayI say a prayer for him, and he for me.He is my brother. Every hope of hisIs hope of mine. When trouble falls on himIt falls alike on me—he is my brother.And when he comes—as one day he will come—To tell me of some good and gentle girlWho worthily has won his honest heart,I’ll throw my loving arms around her neck,And call her “sister,” as I call him “brother.”

Gret.Gottfried has been my brother all my life.

I would not own another man as brother:

Nor would I have him aught but honest “brother.”

I love him dearly—dearly. Twice a day

I say a prayer for him, and he for me.

He is my brother. Every hope of his

Is hope of mine. When trouble falls on him

It falls alike on me—he is my brother.

And when he comes—as one day he will come—

To tell me of some good and gentle girl

Who worthily has won his honest heart,

I’ll throw my loving arms around her neck,

And call her “sister,” as I call him “brother.”

Faus.Now Heaven forgive me, but those words of thineHave freed my bosom from a load of care!

Faus.Now Heaven forgive me, but those words of thine

Have freed my bosom from a load of care!

Gret.Didst thou then think I loved him not?

Faus.Nay, nay.I feared thy love was more than sister-love.

Faus.Nay, nay.

I feared thy love was more than sister-love.

Gret.Dost thou then fear the love that tends to wedlock?

Meph.(aside). Not he!

Faus.I hold that truest happinessIs born of wedlock.

Faus.I hold that truest happiness

Is born of wedlock.

Meph.(aside). Bravo, celibate!

Gret.And yet it much rejoiceth thee to knowThat cousin Gottfried hath no thought of wedlock?

Gret.And yet it much rejoiceth thee to know

That cousin Gottfried hath no thought of wedlock?

Faus.Nay, maiden, it rejoiceth me to knowThat cousin Gretchen hath no thought of wedlock.

Faus.Nay, maiden, it rejoiceth me to know

That cousin Gretchen hath no thought of wedlock.

Gret.Thou dost not wish me happy, then?

Faus.My heart!I would it were my care to make thee happy!

Faus.My heart!

I would it were my care to make thee happy!

Gret.Now I am sorely puzzled!

Meph.(aside).And no wonder!

Gret.Thou wishest Gottfried happy, and me happy;In wedlock, only, is true happiness;And yet, forsooth, it much rejoiceth theeTo know that he and I are not to wed!

Gret.Thou wishest Gottfried happy, and me happy;

In wedlock, only, is true happiness;

And yet, forsooth, it much rejoiceth thee

To know that he and I are not to wed!

Meph.(aside). Pretty logician! A dilemma, truly!

Faus.Nay, Gretchen, better let the riddle restTill time shall solve it!

Faus.Nay, Gretchen, better let the riddle rest

Till time shall solve it!

Gret.Pray forgive me, sir.I do not doubt thy words are learned words.Small wonder that I cannot fathom them.

Gret.Pray forgive me, sir.

I do not doubt thy words are learned words.

Small wonder that I cannot fathom them.

Mar.(without). Come, Gretchen! Gretchen!

Meph.(aside).Bah! she’ll ruin all!How these old ladies always interfere!

Meph.(aside).Bah! she’ll ruin all!

How these old ladies always interfere!

EnterMartha.

Mar.Why, who is this?

Gret.A friend of cousin Gottfried,A very old and very trusty friend;And so, a very trusty friend of ours.

Gret.A friend of cousin Gottfried,

A very old and very trusty friend;

And so, a very trusty friend of ours.

Mar.We give you welcome, sir. Our home is poor,But wholly at your service. (Aside.) By the mass,A very straight, and well-favoured gentleman!

Mar.We give you welcome, sir. Our home is poor,

But wholly at your service. (Aside.) By the mass,

A very straight, and well-favoured gentleman!

Meph.(aside). She’ll never leave him. I must interfere.(Coming forward.) Pray pardon this intrusion——

Meph.(aside). She’ll never leave him. I must interfere.

(Coming forward.) Pray pardon this intrusion——

Mar.Who is this?

Meph.(to Gretchen). Do I address Dame Martha?

Gret.No, indeed,My name is Gretchen—this is Mistress Martha.

Gret.No, indeed,

My name is Gretchen—this is Mistress Martha.

Meph.A thousand pardons for my clumsy error.Misled by a description—“tall and fair,Eighteen, and very beautiful.” The wordsApply, with equal truth, to both the ladies.

Meph.A thousand pardons for my clumsy error.

Misled by a description—“tall and fair,

Eighteen, and very beautiful.” The words

Apply, with equal truth, to both the ladies.

Mar.You’re vastly civil, sir! (Aside.) Upon my word,It rains well-spoken, proper gentlemen!

Mar.You’re vastly civil, sir! (Aside.) Upon my word,

It rains well-spoken, proper gentlemen!

Meph.Sisters, of course?

Mar.Nay, she’s my sister’s child(Hastily.) My sister was, by many years, my senior!

Mar.Nay, she’s my sister’s child

(Hastily.) My sister was, by many years, my senior!

Meph.That’s evident. I bring you doleful news—Yet news not altogether dolorous;There is a certain spice of comfort in’t—Yet not so much of comfort, I’m afraid,As to disguise its not unpleasant bitter.

Meph.That’s evident. I bring you doleful news—

Yet news not altogether dolorous;

There is a certain spice of comfort in’t—

Yet not so much of comfort, I’m afraid,

As to disguise its not unpleasant bitter.

Mar.Your words alarm me! Pray forgive me, sir,Are you a lawyer?

Mar.Your words alarm me! Pray forgive me, sir,

Are you a lawyer?

Meph.I’m the prince of lawyers.

Mar.I am your servant, sir! (Curtsying.)

Meph.I’m glad to hear it!But pardon me, the news I have to tellIs for your ears alone.

Meph.I’m glad to hear it!

But pardon me, the news I have to tell

Is for your ears alone.

Mar.(toGretchen, who is conversing withFaustus).Go, Gretchen dear,And show the gentleman the Lover’s Glen.

Mar.(toGretchen, who is conversing withFaustus).

Go, Gretchen dear,

And show the gentleman the Lover’s Glen.

Meph.Take heed—the path is dangerously steep—Be sure you do not trip, my pretty maid.

Meph.Take heed—the path is dangerously steep—

Be sure you do not trip, my pretty maid.

Gret.I thank you, sir. I know its pitfalls well,And how to pass them safely. (ToFaustus.) Wilt thou come?

Gret.I thank you, sir. I know its pitfalls well,

And how to pass them safely. (ToFaustus.) Wilt thou come?

Faus.To the world’s end, fair maiden, an thou wilt.

Gret.(laughing). Nay, I’ll not pledge thee to so long a journey,The road is short.

Gret.(laughing). Nay, I’ll not pledge thee to so long a journey,

The road is short.

Mar.But very perilous.

Meph.It is, indeed!

Faus.Wilt trust thy hand in mine?

Mar.Ay, take his hand—you will be safer so.

Meph.(aside). I doubt it much.[FaustusandGretchengo down incline.

Meph.(aside). I doubt it much.

[FaustusandGretchengo down incline.

Mar.Now we are quite alone.

Meph.The news I bring you is about your husband.

Mar.My husband! he’s not coming back!

Meph.No, no—It’s not as bad as that.

Meph.No, no—

It’s not as bad as that.

Mar.(relieved).You frightened me!

Meph.(with emotion). He never will come back.

Mar.What mean you, sir?

Meph.I mean that, fighting bravely ’gainst the Turks,An arrow struck him—and—— (Faltering.)

Meph.I mean that, fighting bravely ’gainst the Turks,

An arrow struck him—and—— (Faltering.)

Mar.(affected).I guess your meaning!This is sad news, indeed! Alack-a-day,I never wished his death! With all his faults,He was no worse than other husbands are!

Mar.(affected).I guess your meaning!

This is sad news, indeed! Alack-a-day,

I never wished his death! With all his faults,

He was no worse than other husbands are!

Meph.A most affecting tribute to his worth.Pray pardon my emotion; I’ve a heartThat melts at weeping women.

Meph.A most affecting tribute to his worth.

Pray pardon my emotion; I’ve a heart

That melts at weeping women.

Mar.Pray go on;I’ll try to stem my tears. Left he a will?

Mar.Pray go on;

I’ll try to stem my tears. Left he a will?

Meph.He did—a very good and Christian will.

Mar.Hewasa Christian!

Meph.(sighing).Ah! His will directsThat you shall spend on masses for his soul,Five hundred marks.

Meph.(sighing).Ah! His will directs

That you shall spend on masses for his soul,

Five hundred marks.

Mar.(indignantly). Five hundred fiddlesticks!A wicked waste!

Mar.(indignantly). Five hundred fiddlesticks!

A wicked waste!

Meph.Well, knowing all I knowAbout his mode of life, I must admitItisa waste; but so his will directs.

Meph.Well, knowing all I know

About his mode of life, I must admit

Itisa waste; but so his will directs.

Mar.And is that all? Left he no parting wordsOf penitence?

Mar.And is that all? Left he no parting words

Of penitence?

Meph.Oh yes; as death drew near,He much bewailed his manifold transgressionsAnd said that he could die more tranquillyHad he his wife’s forgiveness.

Meph.Oh yes; as death drew near,

He much bewailed his manifold transgressions

And said that he could die more tranquilly

Had he his wife’s forgiveness.

Mar.Poor dear soul!I could forgive him, freely, everything,Except those masses!

Mar.Poor dear soul!

I could forgive him, freely, everything,

Except those masses!

Meph.“Though it’s true,” said he,“In all our quarrels, and we’d many quarrels,She was invariably to blame.”

Meph.“Though it’s true,” said he,

“In all our quarrels, and we’d many quarrels,

She was invariably to blame.”

Mar.A lie!A most observable and shameless lie!

Mar.A lie!

A most observable and shameless lie!

Meph.Alas! I fear that, as a rule, his wordsWere not distinguished by that love of truthThat you and I deem indispensable.For instance, he declared that earning breadTo feed so many mouths took all his time,And left no moment he could call his own!

Meph.Alas! I fear that, as a rule, his words

Were not distinguished by that love of truth

That you and I deem indispensable.

For instance, he declared that earning bread

To feed so many mouths took all his time,

And left no moment he could call his own!

Mar.Again, a lie! I drudged from morn to nightTo feed and clothe his famished family,While he sat all day fuddling at the ale-house!Alas, he never cared for wife or child!

Mar.Again, a lie! I drudged from morn to night

To feed and clothe his famished family,

While he sat all day fuddling at the ale-house!

Alas, he never cared for wife or child!

Meph.Nay, there you wrong him. Give the deuce his due.Before he sailed he prayed to all the saintsTo bless his arms with full prosperity;So that, if he in battle should be slain,His widow yet might live in luxury.

Meph.Nay, there you wrong him. Give the deuce his due.

Before he sailed he prayed to all the saints

To bless his arms with full prosperity;

So that, if he in battle should be slain,

His widow yet might live in luxury.

Mar.Poor soul! poor soul! Did Heaven so bless them?

Meph.Yes.His prayer was heard. Some seven months agoHe helped to take a Turkish galley, fraughtWith countless treasure.

Meph.Yes.

His prayer was heard. Some seven months ago

He helped to take a Turkish galley, fraught

With countless treasure.

Mar.Why, that was well done.Brave man!

Mar.Why, that was well done.

Brave man!

Meph.Brave man!

Mar.And what got he by that?

Meph.His share of prize-money—twelve thousand marks!

Mar.Twelve thousand marks! a fortune in itself!May Heaven forgive me all my angry words!He had a brave good heart. Where is the money?

Mar.Twelve thousand marks! a fortune in itself!

May Heaven forgive me all my angry words!

He had a brave good heart. Where is the money?

Meph.Ask his good heart. He never could resistA tale of sorrow eloquently told.

Meph.Ask his good heart. He never could resist

A tale of sorrow eloquently told.

Mar.(alarmed). What mean you?

Meph.When at Naples, shortly after,He saw a girl—young, beautiful, but poor—A very child, scarce seventeen years old.His tender heart gave way; she was so poor,And then so very young—scarce seventeen!He gave it all to her.

Meph.When at Naples, shortly after,

He saw a girl—young, beautiful, but poor—

A very child, scarce seventeen years old.

His tender heart gave way; she was so poor,

And then so very young—scarce seventeen!

He gave it all to her.

Mar.All!

Meph.Every florin.But then, she was so young—scarce seventeen——

Meph.Every florin.

But then, she was so young—scarce seventeen——

Mar.At his old tricks! Then there is nothing left?

Meph.You wrong him there; he left a priceless treasure,Compared with which his other paltry gainsSink into nothingness—a charming widow!

Meph.You wrong him there; he left a priceless treasure,

Compared with which his other paltry gains

Sink into nothingness—a charming widow!

Mar.You’re very good.

Meph.I speak the simple truth.Come, take good heart. You waste your tears uponA man who priced you far below your worth.You’re young, and (pardon me) attractive still.Spend one chaste year of lonely widowhood,Then seek a better husband.

Meph.I speak the simple truth.

Come, take good heart. You waste your tears upon

A man who priced you far below your worth.

You’re young, and (pardon me) attractive still.

Spend one chaste year of lonely widowhood,

Then seek a better husband.

Mar.As for that,With all his faults, I might wed worse than he.(Sobbing.) He was a kindly fool!

Mar.As for that,

With all his faults, I might wed worse than he.

(Sobbing.) He was a kindly fool!

Meph.Forgiving soul!Angelic tolerance! Ah, were I sureThat you would treatmyfaults as leniently,I should be almost tempted to——

Meph.Forgiving soul!

Angelic tolerance! Ah, were I sure

That you would treatmyfaults as leniently,

I should be almost tempted to——

Mar.To what?Oh, sir, you’re surely jesting!

Mar.To what?

Oh, sir, you’re surely jesting!

Meph.Not at all.(Aside.) I’d better change the subject. This old girlWould take the very devil at his word.They’re coming back. (Aloud.) We’ll talk of this anon—After a year—or two—or three——

Meph.Not at all.

(Aside.) I’d better change the subject. This old girl

Would take the very devil at his word.

They’re coming back. (Aloud.) We’ll talk of this anon—

After a year—or two—or three——

Mar.We will!

[Exeunt together, asFaustusandGretchenappear at back.

Faus.That, Gretchen, wasmydream.

Gret.Oh, marvellous!That thou and I—each stranger to the other—Should thus have peopled each the other’s vision!I tremble when I think on’t.

Gret.Oh, marvellous!

That thou and I—each stranger to the other—

Should thus have peopled each the other’s vision!

I tremble when I think on’t.

Faus.Wherefore so?Was then the vision so distasteful?

Faus.Wherefore so?

Was then the vision so distasteful?

Gret.Nay,I said not so; but that we two should dreamAs we have dreamt—’tis not in nature!

Gret.Nay,

I said not so; but that we two should dream

As we have dreamt—’tis not in nature!

Faus.PromiseThat if again thou seest me in a dreamThou’lt tell me all—the part I play therein—The words I speak to thee, and thou to me.

Faus.Promise

That if again thou seest me in a dream

Thou’lt tell me all—the part I play therein—

The words I speak to thee, and thou to me.

Gret.(confused). Perhaps. It may be so. I will not promise.

Faus.Tell me again—Gottfried—thou dost not love him?

Gret.He is my brother, sir!

Faus.So he be alway!There is, perchance, some other envied manTo whom the flower of thine heart is given?

Faus.So he be alway!

There is, perchance, some other envied man

To whom the flower of thine heart is given?

Gret.Indeed, I have no lover, sir.

Faus.None?

Gret.None.

Faus.Thy time will come!

Gret.Perhaps!

Faus.Give me thy hand—I’ll read thy fortune, Gretchen.

Faus.Give me thy hand—

I’ll read thy fortune, Gretchen.

Gret.Wonderful!Canst thou read fortunes? (Giving her hand.)

Gret.Wonderful!

Canst thou read fortunes? (Giving her hand.)

Faus.Ay, indifferent well. (Playing with her hand.)

Gret.Speak, sir; I listen.

Faus.(still playing with her hand). ’Tis a soft white hand!

Gret.(demurely). My fortune, sir.

Faus.(recollecting himself). True, true, thy fortune! Come. (Looking at her palm.)Ah, Gretchen, Gretchen, be thou on thy guard!There cometh one to woo thee. Oh, beware,Take heed of him—he is no honest man!

Faus.(recollecting himself). True, true, thy fortune! Come. (Looking at her palm.)

Ah, Gretchen, Gretchen, be thou on thy guard!

There cometh one to woo thee. Oh, beware,

Take heed of him—he is no honest man!

Gret.And do I know him, sir?

Faus.Ay, in some sort,Thou knowest his smooth face, his specious tongue;But there is that within his evil heartOf which thou knowest little! Oh, my child,Beware of him! My child, beware of him!

Faus.Ay, in some sort,

Thou knowest his smooth face, his specious tongue;

But there is that within his evil heart

Of which thou knowest little! Oh, my child,

Beware of him! My child, beware of him!

Gret.Why comes this wicked man to such as I?I would not aid him in his wickedness.

Gret.Why comes this wicked man to such as I?

I would not aid him in his wickedness.

Faus.In sad and sorrowing heart he comes to thee,That he may learn the lesson of thy life.He comes to thee in the fond, foolish hopeThat the pure influence of such love as thineMay quell the evil angel at his side;For wicked as he is, he loveth thee,With all his poor frail heart he loveth thee!

Faus.In sad and sorrowing heart he comes to thee,

That he may learn the lesson of thy life.

He comes to thee in the fond, foolish hope

That the pure influence of such love as thine

May quell the evil angel at his side;

For wicked as he is, he loveth thee,

With all his poor frail heart he loveth thee!

Gret.’Tis a strange fortune! I, an untaught girl,Can teach but little. But if such a oneCome to me sorrowing for his bygone sins,E’en though I loved him not,In pity I would strive, with all my heart,To help him, even as I pray for help.I do not know why I should fear this man.

Gret.’Tis a strange fortune! I, an untaught girl,

Can teach but little. But if such a one

Come to me sorrowing for his bygone sins,

E’en though I loved him not,

In pity I would strive, with all my heart,

To help him, even as I pray for help.

I do not know why I should fear this man.

Faus.(earnestly). Because, with all his sorrow, he is false—False to himself, and, maybe, false to thee.Oh, Gretchen, deal not lightly with my words;Weigh them, and weigh them, o’er and o’er again.And when thou kneelest by thy bed to-night,Pray thou for strength as thou hast never prayed;Pray for a brave and staunch and steadfast heart—Steadfast to aid this poor weak wandererUpon the holy path that thou hast chosen.But above all, beyond all, and before all,Steadfast to pluck the traitor from thineIf, in the depth of his mortality,He strive to gain thee by unholy means!

Faus.(earnestly). Because, with all his sorrow, he is false—

False to himself, and, maybe, false to thee.

Oh, Gretchen, deal not lightly with my words;

Weigh them, and weigh them, o’er and o’er again.

And when thou kneelest by thy bed to-night,

Pray thou for strength as thou hast never prayed;

Pray for a brave and staunch and steadfast heart—

Steadfast to aid this poor weak wanderer

Upon the holy path that thou hast chosen.

But above all, beyond all, and before all,

Steadfast to pluck the traitor from thine

If, in the depth of his mortality,

He strive to gain thee by unholy means!

Gret.(quietly). I will take heed, sir. (Rising and going.)

Faus.Gretchen—leave me not.

Gret.I go to seek a poor lost, friendless girl,Who waits for me hard by. I thank you, sir—I take your kindly counsel in good part.Thou dost not know the sad and solemn lessonThat her poor blighted heart hath taught us all.For she was wont to laugh as the birds sing,From very wealth of idle happiness!It seems so strange that she should not have died.

Gret.I go to seek a poor lost, friendless girl,

Who waits for me hard by. I thank you, sir—

I take your kindly counsel in good part.

Thou dost not know the sad and solemn lesson

That her poor blighted heart hath taught us all.

For she was wont to laugh as the birds sing,

From very wealth of idle happiness!

It seems so strange that she should not have died.

Faus.God save thee from such harm! (Releasing her.)

Gret.Amen! amen![Exit.

Gret.Amen! amen!

[Exit.

Faus.(stands as if entranced for a moment; then suddenly)Why, whither am I going? Grace of Heaven!Have I been blind? Fool! poor, self-cheating fool!Stop, while thou mayst—thine eyes are open now!What seest thou?Hell against heaven—and thou allied with hell![Mephistoappears and listens.What seest thou? A pure and blameless child,Trustful as innocence—her gentle soul,Calm as a lake in heaven—her angel face,God’s work,Untainted by man’s desecrating touch!And, at her side,A scheming mummer, tricked in godly garb—His tongue all plausible, his heart all false—His lying manhood traitor to itself!Faustus, mine enemy, I know thee now!Faustus, mine enemy, I know thee now!

Faus.(stands as if entranced for a moment; then suddenly)

Why, whither am I going? Grace of Heaven!

Have I been blind? Fool! poor, self-cheating fool!

Stop, while thou mayst—thine eyes are open now!

What seest thou?

Hell against heaven—and thou allied with hell!

[Mephistoappears and listens.

What seest thou? A pure and blameless child,

Trustful as innocence—her gentle soul,

Calm as a lake in heaven—her angel face,

God’s work,

Untainted by man’s desecrating touch!

And, at her side,

A scheming mummer, tricked in godly garb—

His tongue all plausible, his heart all false—

His lying manhood traitor to itself!

Faustus, mine enemy, I know thee now!

Meph.Shake off thy Churchman’s qualms. Thou art a man,Wast once a soldier ere thou wast a priest.Has monkish milk so curdled the hot bloodThat bore thee ever where the fight was thickest,That this raw girl—this butter-churning doll,Hath turned thee chicken-hearted?

Meph.Shake off thy Churchman’s qualms. Thou art a man,

Wast once a soldier ere thou wast a priest.

Has monkish milk so curdled the hot blood

That bore thee ever where the fight was thickest,

That this raw girl—this butter-churning doll,

Hath turned thee chicken-hearted?

Faus.Hold thy peace,Accursed fiend, nor dare to breathehername.Deal thou with me—let Heaven deal with heaven,I go from her—God shield her from all harm!

Faus.Hold thy peace,

Accursed fiend, nor dare to breathehername.

Deal thou with me—let Heaven deal with heaven,

I go from her—God shield her from all harm!

Meph.Hush, not so loud, she’ll hear you. See, she comes!

[Gretchenappears at back, picking petals from a daisy as she advances.

Gret.He loves me—he loves me not!He loves me—he loves me not!

Gret.He loves me—he loves me not!

He loves me—he loves me not!

Meph.(aside toFaustus). Too late, too late! her heart is given to thee;Her love is not as other women’s love.Take thyself hence and she will surely die!

Meph.(aside toFaustus). Too late, too late! her heart is given to thee;

Her love is not as other women’s love.

Take thyself hence and she will surely die!

[Faustuswatches her, entranced.

Gret.(with increased anxiety).He loves me—he loves me not!He loves me—he loves me not!

Gret.(with increased anxiety).

He loves me—he loves me not!

Meph.See how she trembles as the petals fall.Poor child, poor child!She trusts her simple charm, and should it fail,Her heart will break! Have pity on her, Faustus!

Meph.See how she trembles as the petals fall.

Poor child, poor child!

She trusts her simple charm, and should it fail,

Her heart will break! Have pity on her, Faustus!

Gret.He loves me—he loves me not!He loves me—he loves me not! (She picks the last petal.)Oh, Heaven, have mercy!

Gret.He loves me—he loves me not!

He loves me—he loves me not! (She picks the last petal.)

Oh, Heaven, have mercy!

Faus.(breaking fromMephisto, and rushing to her).Gretchen, dearly loved!Mistrust thy charm! By Heaven that hears me now,He loves thee, Gretchen! loves thee, loves thee, loves thee!

Faus.(breaking fromMephisto, and rushing to her).

Gretchen, dearly loved!

Mistrust thy charm! By Heaven that hears me now,

He loves thee, Gretchen! loves thee, loves thee, loves thee!

[Gretchengives a cry of joy and surprise, then falls weeping on his neck.Mephistoat back, laughing cynically.

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