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.
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.