MARTHA

You mustn’t tell it to your mother! 
’Twould go to the priest, as did the other.

MARGARET

Ah, look and see—­just look and see!

MARTHA (adorning her)

O, what a blessed luck for thee!

MARGARET

But, ah! in the streets I dare not bear them,
Nor in the church be seen to wear them.

MARTHA

Yet thou canst often this way wander,
And secretly the jewels don,
Walk up and down an hour, before the mirror yonder,—­
We’ll have our private joy thereon. 
And then a chance will come, a holiday,
When, piece by piece, can one the things abroad display,
A chain at first, then other ornament: 
Thy mother will not see, and stories we’ll invent.

MARGARET

Whoever could have brought me things so precious? 
That something’s wrong, I feel suspicious.

(A knock)

Good Heaven!  My mother can that have been?

MARTHA (peeping through the blind)

’Tis some strange gentleman.—­Come in!

(MEPHISTOPHELES enters.)

MEPHISTOPHELES

That I so boldly introduce me,
I beg you, ladies, to excuse me.

(Steps back reverently, on seeing MARGARET.)

For Martha Schwerdtlein I’d inquire!

MARTHA

I’m she:  what does the gentleman desire?

MEPHISTOPHELES (aside to her)

It is enough that you are she: 
You’ve a visitor of high degree. 
Pardon the freedom I have ta’en,—­
Will after noon return again.

MARTHA (aloud)

Of all things in the world!  Just hear—­
He takes thee for a lady, dear!

MARGARET

I am a creature young and poor: 
The gentleman’s too kind, I’m sure. 
The jewels don’t belong to me.

MEPHISTOPHELES

Ah, not alone the jewelry! 
The look, the manner, both betray—­
Rejoiced am I that I may stay!

MARTHA

What is your business?  I would fain—­

MEPHISTOPHELES

I would I had a more cheerful strain! 
Take not unkindly its repeating: 
Your husband’s dead, and sends a greeting.

MARTHA

Is dead?  Alas, that heart so true! 
My husband dead!  Let me die, too!