XVI
Project Gutenberg EPUB3 edition
Goethe, Johann Wolfgang von, Clarke, Harry, and Taylor, Bayard
How so?
MARGARET
The man who with thee goes, thy mate,
Within my deepest, inmost soul I hate. In all my life there’s nothing Has given my heart so keen a pang of loathing, As his repulsive face has done.
FAUST
Nay, fear him not, my sweetest one!
MARGARET
I feel his presence like something ill. I’ve else, for all, a kindly will, But, much as my heart to see thee yearneth, The secret horror of him returneth; And I think the man a knave, as I live! If I do him wrong, may God forgive!
FAUST
There must be such queer birds, however.
MARGARET
Live with the like of him, may I never! When once inside the door comes he, He looks around so sneeringly, And half in wrath: One sees that in nothing no interest he hath: ’Tis written on his very forehead That love, to him, is a thing abhorréd. I am so happy on thine arm, So free, so yielding, and so warm, And in his presence stifled seems my heart.
FAUST
Foreboding angel that thou art!
MARGARET
It overcomes me in such degree, That wheresoe’er he meets us, even, I feel as though I’d lost my love for thee. When he is by, I could not pray to Heaven. That burns within me like a flame, And surely, Henry, ’tis with thee the same.
FAUST
There, now, is thine antipathy!
MARGARET
But I must go.
FAUST
Ah, shall there never be
A quiet hour, to see us fondly plighted, With breast to breast, and soul to soul united?
MARGARET
Ah, if I only slept alone! I’d draw the bolts to-night, for thy desire; But mother’s sleep so light has grown, And if we were discovered by her, ’Twould be my death upon the spot!
FAUST
Thou angel, fear it not! Here is a phial: in her drink But three drops of it measure, And deepest sleep will on her senses sink.
MARGARET
What would I not, to give thee pleasure? It will not harm her, when one tries it?
FAUST
If ’twould, my love, would I advise it?
MARGARET
Ah, dearest man, if but thy face I see, I know not what compels me to thy will: So much have I already done for thee, That scarcely more is left me to fulfil.
(Enter MEPHISTOPHELES.) [Exit.
MEPHISTOPHELES
The monkey! Is she gone?
FAUST
Hast played the spy again?
MEPHISTOPHELES
I’ve heard, most fully, how she drew thee. The Doctor has been catechised, ’tis plain; Great good, I hope, the thing will do thee. The girls have much desire to ascertain If one is prim and good, as ancient rules compel: If there he’s led, they think, he’ll follow them as well.