Faust (20 page)
Authors: Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe
| | I’d give myself over to the devil, |
| 2810 | if I were not he himself. |
| | Is there a screw loose in your head? |
| | Your ravings are a telling symptom. |
| | Just think! The jewelry you gave to Gretchen— |
| | slipped in the pocket of a priest! |
| | When her mother took a look at it, |
| | she got the secret shudders! |
| | That woman has an excellent sense of smell |
| | always sniffing in her prayer book. |
| | Her nose can tell from far away |
| 2820 | which is sacred, which profane. |
| | And those jewels left no doubt in her |
| | that their presence was not wholly blessed. |
| | “My child,” she cried, “ill-gotten gain |
| | ensnares the soul and saps the blood. |
| | We’ll offer it to our blessed Virgin, |
| | who will make God’s manna rain on us!” |
| | Little Margaret made a face and pouted. |
| | “It’s a gift horse after all,” she thought, |
| | “whoever brought it here so cleverly |
| 2830 | could never be a godless person.” |
| | The mother asked the priest to have a look, |
| | and he had scarcely heard what was afoot |
| | when he eyed the gems with muted glee |
| | and said: “You’ve done the proper thing! |
| | Who conquers self will be rewarded in the end. |
| | The church has always had an iron belly, |
| | has swallowed states and countries now and then, |
| | and yet it never overate. |
| | The church alone, dear women, can digest |
| 2840 | ill-gotten gains without a stomachache.” |
| | That is a universal custom; |
| | a Jew or king might do the same. |
| | He then took brooch and chain and ring |
| | as if they had been chicken feed |
| | and made no greater show of gratitude |
| | than for a basketful of nuts. |
| | He promised them rewards of every kind, |
| | and they were highly edified. |
| | And Gretchen? |
| | Sits about and frets, |
| 2850 | not knowing what she wants or ought to do, |
| | thinks of the jewels day and night |
| | and even more of him who brought them. |
| | My sweetheart’s trouble saddens me. |
| | Go, get at once another ornament! |
| | The first one was not very much. |
| | Oh yes, all this is child’s play to the gentleman! |
| | Move quickly and arrange things to my liking, |
| | and worm your way into her neighbor’s graces. |
| | Are you a devil of molasses? |
| 2860 | Go, get another set of precious stones for her! |
| | Yes, gracious sir! My pleasure, sir! |
| | ( FAUST exits .) |
| | The lovesick fool. He’d blow away |
| | the sun and moon and all the stars, |
| | as a pastime for his sweetheart. |
| | ( Exits .) |
MARTHA
(
alone
)
.
| | May God forgive my husband’s escapades; |
| | he’s done me a great injury! |
| | Suddenly he’s off into the big wide world |
| | and leaves me on the straw alone. |
| | I never gave him cause for grief |
| 2870 | because, God knows, I dearly loved the man. |
| | ( She weeps .) |
| | Perhaps he’s dead by now! Oh, grief— |
| | and not to have it certified! |
| | ( MARGARET enters .) |
| | Martha! |
| | Gretchen, what’s up? |
| | I thought my knees were giving out! |
| | I found another jewel box of ebony |
| | placed neatly on the wardrobe shelf. |
| | The things are beautiful beyond compare, |
| | far richer than the first ones yet. |
| | This time you must not tell your mother. |
| 2880 | She’d promptly take it to a priest again. |
| | Just look at this. Oh my, just look and see! |
MARTHA
(
arranging the jewels on
MARGARET
).
| | You are a lucky creature, you! |
| | I dare not walk about with these, |
| | and cannot show myself in church or street. |
| | Come to me as often as you please; |
| | put on your jewels secretly; |
| | parade an hour, if you like, before my mirror, |
| | so we can both enjoy the sight. |
| | There’ll soon be an occasion, some festivity, |
| 2890 | where slowly, by degrees, you’ll let the people see |
| | the necklace first, and then the earrings made of pearl. |
| | Your mother will not notice, or else we’ll think of what to say. |
| | Who could have brought the jewel boxes? |
| | There’s something not quite right. |
| | ( A knock at the door .) |
| | Oh, goodness! Could that be my mother? |
MARTHA
(
peering through the blind
)
.
| | A foreign gentleman—Come in! |
| | ( MEPHISTOPHELES enters .) |
| | I take the liberty of stepping through your door. |
| | I beg the gracious ladies’ pardon. |
| | ( Steps back reverently on seeing MARGARET.) |
| | I seek a Mrs. Martha Schwerdtlen hereabouts. |
| 2900 | That’s me. What is the gentleman’s pleasure? |
MEPHISTOPHELES
(
softly to
MARTHA
).
| | I know now who you are, that is enough for me; |
| | I see you’re with a lady of high standing. |
| | Forgive my bold demeanor, |
| | I will return this afternoon. |
MARTHA
(
aloud
)
.
| | Just think, my dear, for heaven’s sake! |
| | He took you for a noble lady! |
| | I’m just a poor young girl; |
| | I’m afraid the gentleman is much too kind. |
| | These gems and spangles don’t belong to me. |
| 2910 | Ah, but it is not the jewelry alone; |
| | it is the lady’s presence and commanding eye! |
| | I am so pleased that I may stay awhile. |
| | What brings you here? Please be so kind— |
| | I wish I had some better news. |
| | I only hope you won’t be cross with me. |
| | Your husband’s dead and sends his greetings. |
| | Is dead? The faithful heart! Alas! |
| | My husband’s dead! Ah, how I suffer! |
| | Dear friend, dear neighbor, don’t despair! |
| 2920 | Here is my sorrowful report! |
| | I should never want to be in love; |
| | a loss would make me die of grief. |
| | With joy goes sorrow, and with sorrow, joy. |
| | Please tell me of his final hours. |
| | His grave was dug in Padua, |
| | the city of Saint Anthony. 30 |
| | He lies in consecrated ground, |
| | a cool eternal resting place. |
| | And have you nothing else for me? |
| 2930 | Oh yes, a grave and serious request; |
| | he wants three hundred masses for his soul. |
| | Apart from that, my hands are empty. |
| | What? No token? Not one piece of jewelry? |
| | Every craftsman stows away a thing or two |
| | deep in his satchel as a souvenir |
| | and would sooner starve and beg than lose it. |
| | It grieves me very much, |
| | but your husband did not squander money. |
| | He regretted all his errors too, |
| 2940 | and his misfortunes even more. |
| | Ah, why are people so unhappy! |
| | Yes, I will gladly offer him some requiems. |
| | You ought to marry right away, |
| | you’re such a kindly and endearing creature. |
| | Ah no, it would never do, not yet. |
| | If not a husband, then perhaps a lover. |
| | It would be among the greatest gifts from heaven, |
| | to embrace a lovely woman like yourself. |
| | That is not the custom hereabouts. |
| 2950 | Custom or no custom. It can be arranged. |
| | But please, continue your report. |
| | His deathbed, where I stood, |
| | was not exactly horse manure, |
| | but rotted straw; but still and all he died a Christian. |
| | He found he left a number of unsettled scores. |
| | “How deeply must I hate myself,” he cried, |
| | “I left my wife and my profession! |
| | Alas, the memory will do me in. |
| | I crave her pardon while I still draw breath.” |
MARTHA
(
crying
)
.
| | The dear good man. Long since I have forgiven him. |
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