The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries - LightNovelsOnl.com
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[_Exeunt_.]
MARGARET (_with a lamp_)
Here 'tis so close, so sultry now,
[_She opens the window._]
Yet out of doors 'tis not so warm.
I feel so strange, I know not how-- I wish my mother would come home.
Through me there runs a shuddering-- I'm but a foolish timid thing!
[_While undressing herself she begins to sing._]
There was a king in Thule, True even to the grave; To whom his dying mistress A golden beaker gave.
At every feast he drained it, Naught was to him so dear, And often as he drained it, Gush'd from his eyes the tear.
When death came, unrepining His cities o'er he told; All to his heir resigning, Except his cup of gold.
With many a knightly va.s.sal At a royal feast sat he, In yon proud hall ancestral, In his castle o'er the sea.
Up stood the jovial monarch, And quaff'd his last life's glow, Then hurled the hallow'd goblet Into the flood below.
He saw it splas.h.i.+ng, drinking, And plunging in the sea; His eyes meanwhile were sinking, And never again drank he.
[_She opens the press to put away her clothes, and perceives the casket_.]
How comes this lovely casket here? The press I locked, of that I'm confident.
'Tis very wonderful! What's in it I can't guess; Perhaps 'twas brought by some one in distress, And left in pledge for loan my mother lent.
Here by a ribbon hangs a little key!
I have a mind to open it and see!
Heavens! only look! what have we here!
In all my days ne'er saw I such a sight!
Jewels! which any n.o.ble dame might wear, For some high pageant richly dight This chain--how would it look on me!
These splendid gems, whose may they be?
[_She puts them on and steps before the gla.s.s._]
Were but the earrings only mine!
Thus one has quite another air.
What boots it to be young and fair?
It doubtless may be very fine; But then, alas, none cares for you, And praise sounds half like pity too.
Gold all doth lure, Gold doth secure All things. Alas, we poor!
PROMENADE
_FAUST walking thoughtfully up and down. To him_ MEPHISTOPHELES
MEPHISTOPHELES
By all rejected love! By h.e.l.lish fire I curse, Would I knew aught to make my imprecation worse!
FAUST
What aileth thee? what chafes thee now so sore?
A face like that I never saw before!
MEPHISTOPHELES
I'd yield me to the devil instantly, Did it not happen that myself am he!
FAUST
There must be some disorder in thy wit!
To rave thus like a madman, is it fit?
MEPHISTOPHELES
Think! only think! The gems for Gretchen brought, Them hath a priest now made his own!-- A glimpse of them the mother caught, And 'gan with secret fear to groan.
The woman's scent is keen enough; Doth ever in the prayer-book snuff; Smells every article to ascertain Whether the thing is holy or profane, And scented in the jewels rare, That there was not much blessing there.
"My child," she cries; "ill-gotten good Ensnares the soul, consumes the blood; With them we'll deck our Lady shrine, She'll cheer our souls with bread divine!"
At this poor Gretchen 'gan to pout; 'Tis a gift-horse, at least, she thought, And sure, he G.o.dless cannot be, Who brought them here so cleverly.
Straight for a priest the mother sent, Who, when he understood the jest, With what he saw was well content.
"This shows a pious mind!" Quoth he: "Self-conquest is true victory.
The Church hath a good stomach, she, with zest, Whole countries hath swallow'd down, And never yet a surfeit known.
The Church alone, be it confessed, Daughters, can ill-got wealth digest."
FAUST
It is a general custom, too, Practised alike by king and jew.
MEPHISTOPHELES
With that, clasp, chain, and ring, he swept As they were mushrooms; and the casket, Without one word of thanks, he kept, As if of nuts it were a basket.
Promised reward in heaven, then forth he hied-- And greatly they were edified.
FAUST
And Gretchen!
MEPHISTOPHELES
In unquiet mood Knows neither what she would or should; The trinkets night and day thinks o'er; On him who brought them, dwells still more.
FAUST
The darling's sorrow grieves me, bring Another set without delay!
