Marg. Then you believe not ! Faust. Do not misconceive! Who dares name God, and say that "I believe?" And who can feel—feel through each sense and thought, And yet affirm that "I believe him not?" The All-embracer, The All-sustainer, Say, does he not support, include, embrace, Thee, me, himself? Doth not heaven arch itself, there, o'er our head? Lies not the firm-set earth, beneath outspread? The eternal stars, with friendly rays, Do they not all for ever rise ? And we ourselves, do we not gaze E'en now into each other's eyes ? And is not every feeling thronging now Through head and heart within thee-weaving still Invisibly and visibly, around, About thee in eternal mystery? These, let thy heart absorb till it be full And, in the feeling when thou'rt wholly blest, Marg. All that is very good, and true; Faust. All hearts, in every clime and zone, And form and language most their own ; Marg. So taken it may pass; but yet-in spite For thou hast got no Christianity! Faust. Dear child! Marg. And long it has afflicted me, How so? To see thee in such company! Faust. Marg. The man whom thou hast always with thee now, I hate him from my inmost heart; In all my life I ne'er did chance On aught can such a pang impart Faust. Dear silly thing! you need not fear. Faust. Yet that the world such oddities should give With one like him ;-whene'er he cometh, he So happy when within thy arms, So unrestrain❜d-by naught represt, My soul, to thee resign'd, so warms; But in his presence doth all this depart, He shuts and withers up my very heart. Faust. Misgiving angel! Marg. And this feeling weighs So heavily upon my heart-so sore That when by chance he but towards us strays, I feel as if I loved e'en thee no more. Where he would be I could not pray, Marg. I now must go. Faust. And am I never, then, to know, Upon thy bosom one calm hour of rest,— To mingle soul with soul, strain breast to breast? And were we found-I'm sure that I Upon the very spot should die. Faust. No need, my love, for that to fear; I have a little phial here,— Three drops but mingled in her drink Will nature veil in pleasant sleep, And so thy mother's eyes will sink Into a slumber calm and deep. Marg. What is there that I would not do for thee? But yet I hope it will not hurtful be! Faust. If it were so, my love, would I Advise you such a thing to try? Marg. Gazing on thee, I know not what doth still Impel me ever to perform your will; I have already done so much for you, Scarce anything is left me now to do. MEPHISTOPHELES enters. Meph. The monkey! is she gone? Faust. [Exit. Hast spied again? Meph. Why, all that pass'd, I heard it pretty plain. You're catechised, sir Doctor! well, I hope with good effect 'twill tell! Full of the faith she doth believe Alone can happiness impart, Must tremble with a good and holy fear, That she must deem as lost the man she holds most dear. Meph. Thou sensual dotard! by the nose thou 'rt led How very knowing, too, she seems to be! She feels I am a genius-and may be, Perhaps the Devil himself.-This night, then,-we- AT THE FOUNTAIN. MARGARET and BESSY with pitchers. Bessy. What, have you nothing, then, of Barbara heard? Marg. I go but little out; no, not a word. Bessy. Sibylla told it me to-day ; At last she's thrown herself away! Bessy. The worst is but too plain to view, Now when she eats and drinks, she feedeth two. Bessy. She's rightly served! how long she's been Be thought the first of all, forsooth. Take presents of him ;-then there still Was kissing and embracing-till The flower is gone! |