The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries Volume I Part 80

Why not?

VALENTINE

That too!

MEPHISTOPHELES

With ease!

VALENTINE

The devil fights for you!

Why how is this? my hand's already lamed!

MEPHISTOPHELES (_to_ FAUST)

Thrust home!

VALENTINE (_falls_)

Alas!

MEPHISTOPHELES

There! Now the lubber's tamed!

But quick, away! We must at once take wing; A cry of murder strikes upon the ear; With the police I know my course to steer, But with the blood-ban 'tis another thing.

MARTHA (_at the window_)

Without! without!

MARGARET (_at the window_)

Quick, bring a light!

MARTHA (_as above_)

They rail and scuffle, scream and fight!

PEOPLE

One lieth here already dead!

MARTHA (_coming out_)

Where are the murderers? are they fled?

MARGARET (_coming out_)

Who lieth here?

PEOPLE

Thy mother's son.

MARGARET

Almighty G.o.d! I am undone!

VALENTINE

I'm dying--'tis a soon-told tale, And sooner done the deed.

Why, women, do ye howl and wail?

To my last words give heed!

[_All gather round him._]

My Gretchen, see! still young art thou, Art not discreet enough, I trow, Thou dost thy matters ill; Let this in confidence be said: Since thou the path of shame dost tread, Tread it with right good will!

MARGARET

My brother! G.o.d! what can this mean?

VALENTINE

Abstain, Nor dare G.o.d's holy name profane!

What's done, alas, is done and past!

Matters will take their course at last; By stealth thou dost begin with one, Others will follow him anon; And when a dozen thee have known, Thou'lt common be to all the town.

When infamy is newly born, In secret she is brought to light, And the mysterious veil of night O'er head and ears is drawn; The loathsome birth men fain would slay; But soon, full grown, she waxes bold, And though not fairer to behold, With brazen front insults the day: The more abhorrent to the sight, The more she courts the day's pure light, The time already I discern, When thee all honest folk will spurn, And shun thy hated form to meet, As when a corpse infects the street.

Thy heart will sink in blank despair, When they shall look thee in the face!

A golden chain no more thou'lt wear!

Nor near the altar take in church thy place!

In fair lace collar simply dight Thou'lt dance no more with spirits light!

In darksome corners thou wilt bide, Where beggars vile and cripples hide, And e'en though G.o.d thy crime forgive, On earth, a thing accursed, thou'lt live!

MARTHA

Your parting soul to G.o.d commend!

Your dying breath in slander will you spend?

VALENTINE

Could I but reach thy wither'd frame, Thou wretched beldame, void of shame!

Full measure I might hope to win Of pardon then for every sin.

MARGARET