The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries Volume I Part 89

MEPHISTOPHELES

I will conduct thee. And what I can do,--hear! Have I all power in heaven and upon earth? I'll cloud the senses of the warder,--do thou possess thyself of the keys and lead her forth with human hand! I will keep watch! The magic steeds are waiting, I bear thee off. Thus much is in my power.

FAUST

Up and away!

NIGHT. OPEN COUNTRY

FAUST. MEPHISTOPHELES

(_Rus.h.i.+ng along on black horses_)

FAUST

What weave they yonder round the Ravenstone?

MEPHISTOPHELES

I know not what they shape and brew.

FAUST

They're soaring, swooping, bending, stooping.

MEPHISTOPHELES

A witches' pack.

FAUST

They charm, they strew.

MEPHISTOPHELES

On! On!

DUNGEON

FAUST (_with a bunch of keys and a lamp before a small iron door_)

A fear unwonted o'er my spirit falls; Man's concentrated woe o'erwhelms me here!

She dwells immur'd within these dripping walls; Her only trespa.s.s a delusion dear!

Thou lingerest at the fatal door?

Thou dread'st to see her face once more?

On! While thou dalliest, draws her death-hour near.

[_He seizes the lock. Singing within._]

My mother, the harlot, She took me and slew!

My father, the scoundrel, Hath eaten me too!

My sweet little sister Hath all my bones laid, Where soft breezes whisper All in the cool shade!

Then became I a wood-bird, and sang on the spray, Fly away! little bird, fly away! fly away!

FAUST (_opening the lock_)

Ah! she forebodes not that her lover's near, The clanking chains, the rustling straw, to hear.

[_He enters._]

MARGARET (_hiding her face in the bed of straw_)

Woe! woe! they come! oh bitter 'tis to die!

FAUST (_Softly_)

Hus.h.!.+ hus.h.!.+ be still! I come to set thee free.

MARGARET (_throwing herself at his feet_)

If thou art human, feel my misery!

FAUST

Thou wilt awake the jailer with thy cry!

[_He grasps the chains to unlock them._]

MARGARET (_on her knees_)

Who, headsman, unto thee this power O'er me could give?

Thou com'st for me at midnight-hour.

Be merciful, and let me live!

Is morrow's dawn not time enough?

[_She stands up._]

I'm still so young, so young-- And must so early die!

Fair was I too, and that was my undoing.

My love is now afar, he then was nigh; Tom lies the garland, the fair blossoms strew'd.

Nay, seize me not with hand so rude!

Spare me! What harm have I e'er done to thee?

Oh let me not in vain implore!

I ne'er have seen thee in my life before!

FAUST