Faust: A Tragedy
first! Misery, misery! by no human soul to be conceived! that more
than one creature of God should ever have been plunged into the depth
of this woe! that the first, in the writhing agony of her death,
should not have atoned for the guilt of all the rest before the eyes
of the All-merciful! It digs even into the marrow of my life, the
misery of this _one_; and thou--thou grinnest in cold composure over
the wretchedness of thousands!
Mephistopheles.
Here we are arrived once more at the limit of our wits, where the
thread of human reason snaps in sunder. Wherefore seekest thou
communion with us, unless thou would'st carry it through? Would'st
fly, and yet art not proof against giddiness? Did we thrust ourselves
on you, or you on us?
Faust.
Whet not thy rows of voracious teeth at me! I loathe it!--Great and
glorious Spirit, who didst condescend to reveal thyself to me, who
knowest my heart and my soul, wherefore didst thou yoke me to this
vilest of complices, who feeds on mischief and banquets on
destruction?
Mephistopheles.
Art done?
Faust.
Deliver her! or woe thee!--the direst of curses lie on thee forever!
Mephistopheles.
I cannot loose the bonds of the avenger, nor open his bars.--Deliver
her! Who was it that plunged her into ruin? I or thou?
[/Faust/ _looks wildly round._
Mephistopheles. [_continues_]
Would'st grasp the thunder? 'Tis well that you, poor mortals, have it
not to wield! To smash the innocent in pieces is the proper tyrant's
fashion of venting one's spleen in a dilemma.
Faust.
Bring me to her! She shall be free!
Mephistopheles.
And the danger to which thou exposest thyself! Know that the guilt of
blood from thy hand still lies upon the town. Above the spot where
the slain fell, avenging Spirits hover and lie in wait for the
returning murderer.
Faust.
That too from thee? Murder and death of a world on thee, thou
monster! Bring me to her, I say, and deliver her!
Mephistopheles.
I'll lead thee thither, and what I can do that I will do. Mark me!
Have I all power in heaven and on earth? I will cloud the wits of
the warder, and thou may'st seize the keys, and bring her out with
the hand of a man. I wait for you with the magic horses to ensure
your escape. This I can do.
Faust.
Up and away!
Scene IV.
_Night. The open Field._
/Faust. Mephistopheles/.
(_Galloping past on black horses._)
Faust.
What are they about there, bustling round the Ravenstone?[*4]
Mephistopheles.
Can't say what they are cooking and kitchening.
Faust.
They hover up, they hover down, bending and bowing.
Mephistopheles.
A corporation of Witches.
Faust.
They seem to be sprinkling and blessing something.
Mephistopheles.
On! on!
Scene V.
_A Prison._
/Faust/, _with a bundle of keys in his hand and a lamp, before an
iron door._
Faust.
A strange cold shuddering dread comes o'er me, all
The up-heaped wretchedness of time.
Here dwells she now behind this damp cold wall,
And dear delusion was her only crime!
Fear'st thou to go to her?
Tremblest to meet her eye?
Quick! thy delay but brings her death more nigh.
[_He seizes the lock. Singing heard from within._
My mother, the wanton,
That choked my breath![*n16]
My father, the villain,
That dined on my death!
My sister dear,
In the cool green shade
My bones she laid;
Then was I a glad little bird in the May;
Fly away! fly away!
Faust. [_opening the door_]
She dreams not that her loved one is so near,
The clinking chains and rustling straw to hear.
Margaret. [_hiding herself on the bed_]
Woe, woe! they come.--To bitter death they call.
Faust. [_softly_]
Hush! hush! I come to free thee from their thrall!
Margaret. [_throwing herself at his feet_]
Art thou a man? feel for my hapless plight.
Faust.
Thy cries will wake the watchers of the night!
[_He takes hold of the chains to unloose them._
Margaret. [_on her knees_]
Who gave thee, hangman, such a power
To drag me from my cell at midnight hour?
Have pity on me! Be not so harsh!--so rough!
Surely to-morrow morn is soon enough. [_She stands up._]
So young, so very young, am I,
And must already die!
Once I was lovely too--'twas this that caused my fall.
Near was the friend, but far from me to-day;
Torn lies the wreath, the flowers are scattered all.
Oh tear me not so forcibly away!
Spare me! what have I done to injure thee?
Oh hear my prayer! for once compassion show!--
'Tis the first time I ever looked on thee.
Faust.
That I should live to see such depth of woe!
Margaret.
Thou hast me now completely in thy might.
Only first give me time to suckle my sweet child.
I hugged it the whole weary night;
They took't from me in very spite;
And now they say I murdered the sweet child,
And never more shall I be glad again.
They sing songs on me, too!
A wicked thing to do!
'Tis the refrain
Of a grim old melody:
Who taught them that its words were meant for me?
Faust. [_throwing himself down_]
Here, at thy feet, behold who loves thee fall,
To strike thy shackles, and to break thy thrall!
Margaret. [_falling beside him on her knees_]
Yes! let us kneel and call upon the Saints!
Beneath these steps,
I hear it well!
Beneath the threshold,
Boileth Hell!
The evil One
His fury vents,
With fearful yell!
Faust. [_loud_]
Gretchen! Gretchen!
Margaret. [_attentive_]
That was the loved one's voice!
[_She springs up; the chains fall away._]
Where is he? where? I heard him call on me,
Now I am free! and none shall hinder me!
To his neck will I fly!
On his bosom lie!
He called me his Gretchen! he stood at the door.
Through the wild howling and hissing of Hell,
Through the loud-laughing scorn and the fiendish uproar,
Came the sweet voice of love that I know so well.
Faust.
'Tis I!
Margaret.
'Tis thou! O say it yet again! [_Clasping him._]
'Tis he! 'tis he! Where now is all my pain?
Where all my prison's woe? my fetters where?
'Tis he! he comes to lift me from this lair
Of wretchedness! I'm free, I'm free!
Already the well-known street I see,
Where the first time I spake to thee,
And the pleasant garden, where
Martha and I did wait for thee.
Faust. [_striving forward_]
Come, come!
Margaret.
O stay, stay!
Thou know'st how pleased I stay where thou dost stay.
[_Caressing him._
Faust.
Away, away!
Unless we haste,
Dearly we'll pay for these few moments' waste.
Margaret.
How! giv'st thou me no kiss?
My friend, so very short a space away,
And hast forgot to kiss?
Why feel I now so straitened when I hold
Thee in my arms? It was not so of old,
When from thy words and looks, a heaven of bliss
Came down; and thou didst kiss
As thou would'st smother me. Come, kiss me! kiss!
Else kiss I thee! [_She embraces him._]
O woe! thy lips are cold,
Are dumb;
Where is the love thy swelling bosom bore
Whilome for me? why are thy lips so cold?
[_She turns away from him._
Faust.
Come with me, sweet love, come!
I'll hug thee ten times closer than before,
Only come with me now! Come, I implore!
Margaret. [_turning to him_]
Art thou then _he_? Art thou then truly _he_?
Faust.
'Tis I, in truth. Come, love, and follow me.
Margaret.
And these vile chains thou breakest,
And me again unto thy bosom takest?
How canst thou dare to turn fond eyes on me?
Know'st thou then, Henry, whom thou com'st to free?
Faust.
Come, come! the night sinks fast; come, follow me!
Margaret.
My mother slept a sleep profound!
I drugged her to't;
My little babe I drowned!
Was it not heaven's boon to me and thee?
Thee, too!--'tis thou! I scarce may deem
My sense speaks true. Give me thy hand!
It is no dream!
Thy dear, dear hand!
Alas! but it is wet!
Wipe it; for it is wet
With blood! O God! what hast thou done?
Put up thy sword;
I pray thee put it up.
Faust.
Let gone be gone!
Thou stabbest me with daggers, every word.
Margaret.
No! thou shalt survive our sorrow!
I will describe the graves to thee,
Where thou shalt bury them and me
To-morrow.
The best place thou shalt give my mother;
Close beside her lay my brother;
Me a little to the side,
But at distance not too wide!
And my child at my right breast.--
These, and none else with us shall rest!
Me on thy loving side to press,
That was a heaven of blessedness!
But now, I cannot do it more;
I feel as I must force my love to thee,
And thou didst coldly fling me back from thee;
And yet 'tis thou!--as good, as loving as before.
Faust.
'Tis I, even I, come, sweet love, come!
Margaret.
Out there?
Faust.
Into the open air.
Margaret.
If the grave be there,
And death there waits, then come!
Hence to my eternal home,
Not a step more.--
Thou leav'st me now?--would I might go with thee?
Faust.
Thou canst, if thou but wilt. I have unbarred the door.
Margaret.
I may not go; no hope for me remains;
They watch me close--my home is with my chains.
It is so sad to beg from door to door;
A guilty thing from human loves outcast,
A homeless earth to wander o'er;
And they are sure to find me out at last.
Faust.
I will protect thee.
Margaret.
Quick! Quick!
Save thy poor child!
Away, away!
Keep the path
Up the stream,
Across the bridge,
To the left hand,
Where the plank stands,
In the pond,
Seize it, quick!
It rises up,
It kicks! it lives!
O save it, save it!
Faust.
Only bethink thee!
One step more, and thou art free.
Margaret.
Would we were past that mountain gray!
There sits my mother on a stone--
I feel a hand that pulls me back
As cold as clay!
There sits my mother on a stone;
Her head sways heavily;
She winks not, she nods not, her head she may not raise.
She slept so long, she never more may wake.
She slept that we might our enjoyment take.
O these were happy days!
Faust.
Here words and prayers will only make things worse;
Come! come; or I must hale thee hence by force.
Margaret.
Let me alone! lay no rough hands on me!
Nor with such murderous clutches seize me!
Thou know'st I have done everything to please thee.
Faust.
The day dawns. Come, my Gretchen, follow me!
Margaret.
Day! yes, it is day! the Judgment-day breaks in!
My marriage-day it should have been!
Let no one know thou wert before with Margaret.
Woe to my wreath!
'Tis done! oh, pain!
We will meet again;
But not at the dance.
The thronging crowds advance
With bated breath;
No word is spoken;
The squares, the streets,
Cannot contain them all.
The bell doth call,
The staff is broken,
They bind me with cords, they drag me away,
And on the bloody block me lay;
And every trembling eye doth quake
At the blade that is brandished o'er my neck.
Mute lies the world as the grave!
Faust.
O had I ne'er been born!
Mephistopheles. [_appearing from without_]
Up! or no help can save!
Profitless whining, whimpering, and prating!
Meanwhile my eager steeds are waiting,
Snuffing the scent of the morning air.
Margaret.