Page 19 of Faust: First Part


  And I crossed myself and made such a to-do—

  Now that sin of others is my sin too!

  Oh God! but all that made me do it

  Was good, such dear love drove me to it!

  21. BY A SHRINE INSIDE [UR

  THE TOWN WALL*

  [An icon of the Mater Dolorosa stands in the alcove with vases of flowers in front of it. GRETCHEN puts fresh flowers into the vases, then prays.]

  GRETCHEN. O Virgin Mother, thou

  Who art full of sorrows, bow

  Thy face in mercy to my anguish now!

  O Lady standing by 3590

  Thy Son to watch Him die,

  Thy heart is pierced to hear His bitter cry.

  Seeking the Father there

  Thy sighs rise through the air

  From his death-agony, from thy despair.

  Who else can know

  The pain that so

  Burns in my bones like fire from hell?

  How my wretched heart is bleeding,

  What it’s dreading, what it’s needing, 3600

  Lady, only you can tell!

  Wherever I go, wherever,

  It never stops, just never;

  Oh how it hurts and aches!

  When I’m alone, I’m crying,

  I cry as if I’m dying,

  I cry as my heart breaks.

  The flower-pots by my window

  I watered with tears like dew

  When in the early morning 3610

  I picked these flowers for you.

  The early sun was gleaming,

  I sat up in my bed

  My eyes already streaming

  As the new dawn turned red.

  Help! Save me from shame and death!—O thou

  Who art full of sorrows, thou

  Most holy Virgin, bow

  Thy face in mercy to my anguish now!

  22. NIGHT. THE STREET OUTSIDE [UR/F.I. GRETCHEN’S DOOR*

  VALENTINE [a soldier, Gretchen’s brother]. [UR

  I used to drink with the other chaps; 3620

  That’s when one likes to boast. Perhaps

  They’d start to sing their girl-friends’ praises—

  All lovely girls, like a ring of roses;

  And round and round the full toasts went.

  I’d sit there calm and confident,

  With my elbows on the table-top;

  Sit there and stroke my beard meanwhile,

  Wait for their blethering to stop,

  Then fill my glass, and with a smile

  I’d say: All honour where honour’s due! 3630

  But in this whole land is there one girl who

  Can compare with Meg, my sister so sweet,

  One worthy to fasten the shoes to her feet?

  Then clink! the toasts went round again,

  And some of the fellows exclaimed: he’s right!

  She’s the pride of her sex, she’s the heart’s delight!

  And the boasters and praisers sat silent then.

  And now—what now?—Shall I tear my hair,

  Shall I run up the walls?—I could despair.

  Every one of those blackguards now is free 3640

  To sneer and wrinkle his nose at me;

  I must sweat, like a debtor who can’t pay,

  At each chance remark that drops my way!

  Oh, yes! I could knock out their brains! But why?

  I still couldn’t tell them they’re telling a lie!

  Who’s there? Who’s sneaking to her door? [F.I.

  There are two of them, if I know the score.

  If it’s him, I’ll take him while I can—

  He’ll not leave here a living man!

  [Enter FAUST and MEPHISTOPHELES.]

  FAUST. Look, through the window of the sacristy [UR 3650

  The sanctuary-lamp gleams up and glows,

  Yet to each side, how dim, how weak it shows,

  As darkness clusters round it! So in me

  Night falls and thickens in my heart.

  MEPHISTOPHELES. Well, I could act a tom-cat’s part,

  Slinking the streets to find a way

  Up to the rooftops where I’ll play!

  I feel a healthy appetite

  For some thieving, some lechery tonight.

  Walpurgis, Night of the Wild Witching,* [F.I. 3660

  Is coming soon; already I’m twitching

  With expectation. Just you wait!

  One doesn’t sleep through that fine date.

  FAUST. Is that your buried gold that’s rising now,*

  Back there? It blooms, it shines at us somehow!

  MEPHISTOPHELES. Quite so; you soon will have the pleasure

  Of lifting out the pot of treasure.

  I took a squint into it too;

  Fine silver coins I’ve raised for you.

  FAUST. Was there no jewellery you could find? 3670

  My mistress loves those golden toys.

  MEPHISTOPHELES. I did see something of the kind;

  A necklace. Pearls that are her eyes.*

  FAUST. That’s good; it makes me sad to go

  Without a gift to her, you know.

  MEPHISTOPHELES. Come now, you should get used to ladies;

  Sometimes one enjoys their favours gratis.

  But look! The stars are in the sky,

  And being a gifted artist, I

  Will now sing her a moral song, 3680

  To confuse her sense of right and wrong.

  [He sings, accompanying himself on a zither.]

  Who stands before

  Her sweetheart’s door

  Once more, once more,

  With early morning starting?

  Poor Kate, beware!

  You’ll enter there

  A maid so fair—

  No maid you’ll be departing!

  Men must have fun, 3690

  But when it’s done

  They’ll up and run—

  They’re thieves, why should they linger?

  Poor darlings all,

  Beware your fall:

  Do nothing at all

  Till you’ve got the ring on your finger!

  VALENTINE. Who are you serenading here?

  Damned rat-catcher!* The devil take

  Your zither first; God’s blood! I’ll make 3700

  Him take the singer next, d’you hear?

  MEPHISTOPHELES. The instrument’s a write-off, I’m afraid.

  VALENTINE. Now draw, and there’ll be corpses made!

  MEPHISTOPHELES. Doctor, don’t back away! Now, quick!

  Keep close to me, move as I do.

  Come on, out with your tickle-stick!

  Now lunge! I’ll parry him for you.

  VALENTINE. Well, parry this one!

  MEPHISTOPHELES. Certainly!

  VALENTINE. And that!

  MEPHISTOPHELES. Why not?

  VALENTINE. The devil it must be!

  What fencing’s this? I think my hand’s gone lame. 3710

  MEPHISTOPHELES [to FAUST]. Strike now!

  VALENTINE [falling]. Oh God!

  MEPHISTOPHELES. Now the poor lout is tame!

  But now let’s go! We must get out of here:

  They’ll start a hue and cry, and all that chatter.

  The police I can deal with, but I fear

  The High Assize is quite another matter.*

  [Exit with FAUST.]

  MARTHA [at her window]. Come out! Come out!

  GRETCHEN [at her window]. Please, fetch a light!

  MARTHA. They’re cursing and shouting! There’s a fight!

  THE CROWD [gathering]. There’s someone dead, there’s one!

  MARTHA [coming out of her house]. Where did the murderers run?

  GRETCHEN [coming out of her house]. Who’s lying here?

  THE CROWD. Your mother’s son. 3720

  GRETCHEN. Oh God in heaven! What have they done!

  VALENTINE. I’m dying; it’s a thing soon said,

  And even sooner the thing??
?s real.

  You women-folk, why weep and wail?

  Just hear me speak before I’m dead.

  [They all gather round him.]

  Meg, listen: you’re still a poor young chit,

  You’ve not yet got the hang of it,

  You’re bungling things, d’you see?

  Just let me tell you in confidence:

  Since you’re a whore now, have some sense 3730

  And do it properly!

  GRETCHEN. My brother! God! What do you mean?

  VALENTINE. Leave God out of this little scene!

  What’s done is done, I’m sorry to say,

  And things must go their usual way.

  You started in secret with one man;

  Soon others will come where he began,

  And when a dozen have joined the queue

  The whole town will be having you!

  Let me tell you about disgrace: 3740

  It enters the world as a secret shame,

  Born in the dark without a name,

  With the hood of night about its face.

  It’s something that you’ll long to kill.

  But as it grows, it makes its way

  Even into the light of day;

  It’s bigger, but it’s ugly still!

  The filthier its face has grown,

  The more it must be seen and shown.

  There’ll come a time, and this I know, 3750

  All decent folk will abhor you so,

  You slut! that like a plague-infected

  Corpse you’ll be shunned, you’ll be rejected,

  They’ll look at you and your heart will quail,

  Their eyes will all tell the same tale!

  You’ll have no gold chains or jewellery then,

  Never stand in church by the altar again,

  Never have any pretty lace to wear

  At the dance, for you’ll not be dancing there!

  Into some dark corner may you creep 3760

  Among beggars and cripples to hide and weep;

  And let God forgive you as he may—

  But on earth be cursed till your dying day!

  MARTHA. Commend your soul to God’s mercy too!

  Will you die with blasphemy on you?

  VALENTINE. Vile hag, vile bawd! If I could take

  You by the skinny throat and shake

  The life out of you, that alone,

  For all my sins it would atone.

  GRETCHEN. Oh, brother—how can I bear it—how— 3770

  VALENTINE. I tell you, tears won’t mend things now.

  When you and your honour came to part,

  That’s when you stabbed me to the heart.

  I’ll meet my Maker presently—

  As the soldier I’m still proud to be.

  [He dies.]

  23. A CATHEDRAL* [UR

  [A Mass for the Dead. Organ and choral singing. GRETCHEN in a large congregation. An EVIL SPIRIT behind GRETCHEN.]

  THE EVIL SPIRIT. How different things were for you, Gretchen,

  When you were still all innocence,

  Approaching that altar,

  Lisping prayers from your little

  Worn prayer-book; 3780

  Your heart had nothing in it

  But God and child’s play!

  Gretchen!

  What are you thinking?

  What misdeed burdens

  Your heart now? Are you praying

  For your mother’s soul, who by your doing

  Overslept into long, long purgatorial pains?

  Whose blood stains your doorstep?

  —And under your heart is there not 3790

  Something stirring, welling up already,

  A foreboding presence,

  Feared by you and by itself?

  GRETCHEN. Oh God! Oh God!

  If I could get rid of these thoughts

  That move across me and through me,

  Against my will!

  THE CHOIR. Dies irae, dies illa*

  Solvet saeclum in favilla.

  [Organ.]

  THE EVIL SPIRIT. God’s wrath seizes you! 3800

  The Last Trumpet scatters its sound!

  The graves shudder open!

  And your heart

  That was at rest in its ashes

  Is resurrected in fear,

  Fanned again to the flames

  Of its torment!

  GRETCHEN. Let me get away from here!

  It’s as if the organ

  Were choking me

  And the singing melting

  The heart deep down in me!

  THE CHOIR. Judex ergo cum sedebit,

  Quidquid latet adparebit,

  Nil inultum remanebit.

  GRETCHEN. I can’t breathe!

  The great pillars

  Are stifling me,

  The vaulted roof

  Crushes me!—Give me air!

  THE EVIL SPIRIT. Hide yourself! Sin and shame

  Cannot be hidden.

  Air? Light?

  Woe on you!

  THE CHOIR. Quid sum miser tunc dicturus?

  Quern patronum rogaturus,

  Cum vix Justus sit securus?

  THE EVIL SPIRIT. Souls in bliss

  Have turned their faces from you.

  They shrink from touching you, 3830

  For they are pure!

  Woe!

  THE CHOIR.

  Quid sum miser tune dicturus?

  GRETCHEN. Neighbour! Your smelling-salts!

  [She faints.]

  24. WALPURGIS NIGHT* [F.I.

  [The Harz Mountains, near Schierke and Elend. FAUST and MEPHISTOPHELES.]

  MEPHISTOPHELES. Wouldn’t you like a broomstick? I confess

  I wish I had a randy goat to ride!

  We’ll never reach the summit at this pace.

  FAUST. I’ve still got my two legs, a stout stick at my side,

  And they’re quite good enough for me.

  Our route’s not long—why make it less? 3840

  These valleys are a labyrinth; let’s see

  Them first, then climb the rocky heights!

  Look how that stream pours down perpetually:

  The walk’s worth while to see such sights.

  The birch-trees are all touched by spring

  Already, even the pines revive;

  Do our limbs too not come alive?

  MEPHISTOPHELES. Well, frankly, I can’t feel a thing.

  My limbs are in a wintry mood;

  I’d prefer frost and snow along this road. 3850

  How gloomily the humpbacked moon is rising,

  With what a feeble red belated glow!

  With every step one takes, it’s not surprising

  One bumps into some tree or rock. I know:

  I’ll call a will-o’-the-wisp! Excuse me. Why,

  There’s one, blazing like merry hell. What ho,

  My little friend! Approach us, please!

  Stop wasting all that energy,

  And light our way uphill.

  WILL-O’-THE-WISP. I’ll try,

  Out of respect for you, my lord, to force 3860

  My wayward nature; but we like to tease,

  And normally pursue a zigzag course!

  MEPHISTOPHELES. I see; you like to imitate mankind.

  Well, just go straight if you don’t mind,

  Or I’ll blow out your flicker with one puff!

  WILL-O’-THE-WISP. You’re master here, I see that well enough!

  I’ll do my best to do just as you say.

  But the whole mountain’s magic-mad tonight, good sir,

  And you must not be too particular

  If a will-o’-the-wisp’s to show the way! 3870

  [FAUST, MEPHISTOPHELES, WILL-O’-THE-WISP, singing in turn.]*

  World of magic, land of dreams!

  We have entered you, it seems.

  Wisp, lead well and show your paces;

  We must get there, we must hurry

  In these wi
ld, wide-open places!

  Trees and trees in quick succession:

  See them pass us, see them scurry!

  Feel the beetling cliffs’ oppression,

  Hear those rocks as the winds roar,

  How their long snouts snort and snore!* 3880

  Through the rocks and through the grasses

  Streams and streamlets swift descending,

  Murmuring water, murmuring voices:

  Are they singing love’s unending

  Sweet complaint from days gone by?

  How we hope, and how we sigh!

  And an echo, like the story

  Of old times, still makes reply.

  Night-owl, screech-owl: can you hear them?

  Pie and peewit territory: 3890

  All awake as we pass near them.

  Bloated long-legged salamanders

  Haunt the thicket; all around us

  Twisting roots that would ensnare us,

  Slither snakelike from the sand,

  Writhing from the rocks to scare us;

  Trunk-knots, tree-growths, how they thrive,

  Thick and fleshy, long and live,

  Each a reaching polyp-hand,

  Tangled tentacles to bind us! 3900

  Mice in many-coloured hosts

  Scuttle over moss and moor,

  And a million fireflies lure

  Us to follow, glittering ghosts

  Swarming densely to confound us.

  Are we coming? are we going?

  Are we standing? There’s no knowing!

  All is whirling, all is flowing!

  Rocks and trees with weird grimaces

  Shift their shapes and change their places; 3910

  Wild fires wander, teeming, growing.

  MEPHISTOPHELES. Hold fast to me! This middle summit

  Will suit us; there’s a fine view from it.

  Look! This is my lord Mammon’s night:*

  His mountain gold shines rich and bright.

  FAUST. How strangely through the hollows glimmering

  Like a false dawn the dull light glows!

  Into crevasses glinting, shimmering,

  Into each deep abyss it goes.

  Clouds drift, a vapour rises, yet 3920

  Through veils of mist that radiance gleams:

  It trickles like a rivulet,

  Or in a full flood bursts and streams.

  There down the wider vale meandering

  It winds in channels by the score,

  Till into close confinement wandering

  It flows in single course once more.

  But here, nearby, like scattered sand

  Of gold, what sparks fly upwards! and

  The mountain face—look, its entire 3930

  Breadth, depth and height are catching fire!

  MEPHISTOPHELES. Mammon lights up our palace for these feasts;

  A splendid show, you must admit.

  You’re lucky to have been at it.

  Ah! Here come some of our wild guests.