XI
Project Gutenberg EPUB3 edition
Goethe, Johann Wolfgang von, Clarke, Harry, and Taylor, Bayard
A STREET
FAUST MEPHISTOPHELES
FAUST
How is it? under way? and soon complete?
MEPHISTOPHELES
Ah, bravo! Do I find you burning? Well, Margaret soon will still your yearning: At Neighbor Martha’s you’ll this evening meet. A fitter woman ne’er was made To ply the pimp and gypsy trade!
FAUST
Tis well.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Yet something is required from us.
FAUST
One service pays the other thus.
MEPHISTOPHELES
We’ve but to make a deposition valid That now her husband’s limbs, outstretched and pallid, At Padua rest, in consecrated soil.
FAUST
Most wise! And first, of course, we’ll make the journey thither?
MEPHISTOPHELES
Sancta simplicitas! no need of such a toil; Depose, with knowledge or without it, either!
FAUST
If you’ve naught better, then, I’ll tear your pretty plan!
MEPHISTOPHELES
Now, there you are! O holy man! Is it the first time in your life you’re driven To bear false witness in a case? Of God, the world and all that in it has a place, Of Man, and all that moves the being of his race, Have you not terms and definitions given With brazen forehead, daring breast? And, if you’ll probe the thing profoundly, Knew you so much—and you’ll confess it roundly!— As here of Schwerdtlein’s death and place of rest?
FAUST
Thou art, and thou remain’st, a sophist, liar.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Yes, knew I not more deeply thy desire. For wilt thou not, no lover fairer, Poor Margaret flatter, and ensnare her, And all thy soul’s devotion swear her?
FAUST
And from my heart.
MEPHISTOPHELES
’Tis very fine!
Thine endless love, thy faith assuring, The one almighty force enduring,— Will that, too, prompt this heart of thine?
FAUST
Hold! hold! It will!—If such my flame, And for the sense and power intense I seek, and cannot find, a name; Then range with all my senses through creation, Craving the speech of inspiration, And call this ardor, so supernal, Endless, eternal and eternal,— Is that a devilish lying game?
MEPHISTOPHELES
And yet I’m right!
FAUST
Mark this, I beg of thee!
And spare my lungs henceforth: whoever Intends to have the right, if but his tongue be clever, Will have it, certainly. But come: the further talking brings disgust, For thou art right, especially since I must.