Faust eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 151 pages of information about Faust.

Faust eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 151 pages of information about Faust.

FAUST

A look from thee, a word, more entertains
Than all the lore of wisest brains.

(He kisses her hand.)

MARGARET

Don’t incommode yourself!  How could you ever kiss it! 
It is so ugly, rough to see! 
What work I do,—­how hard and steady is it! 
Mother is much too close with me.

[They pass.

MARTHA

And you, Sir, travel always, do you not?

MEPHISTOPHELES

Alas, that trade and duty us so harry! 
With what a pang one leaves so many a spot,
And dares not even now and then to tarry!

MARTHA

In young, wild years it suits your ways,
This round and round the world in freedom sweeping;
But then come on the evil days,
And so, as bachelor, into his grave a-creeping,
None ever found a thing to praise.

MEPHISTOPHELES

I dread to see how such a fate advances.

MARTHA

Then, worthy Sir, improve betimes your chances!

[They pass.

MARGARET

Yes, out of sight is out of mind! 
Your courtesy an easy grace is;
But you have friends in other places,
And sensibler than I, you’ll find.

FAUST

Trust me, dear heart! what men call sensible
Is oft mere vanity and narrowness.

MARGARET

  How so?

FAUST

Ah, that simplicity and innocence ne’er know
Themselves, their holy value, and their spell! 
That meekness, lowliness, the highest graces
Which Nature portions out so lovingly—­

MARGARET

So you but think a moment’s space on me,
All times I’ll have to think on you, all places!

FAUST

No doubt you’re much alone?

MARGARET

Yes, for our household small has grown,
Yet must be cared for, you will own. 
We have no maid:  I do the knitting, sewing, sweeping,
The cooking, early work and late, in fact;
And mother, in her notions of housekeeping,
Is so exact! 
Not that she needs so much to keep expenses down: 
We, more than others, might take comfort, rather: 
A nice estate was left us by my father,
A house, a little garden near the town. 
But now my days have less of noise and hurry;
My brother is a soldier,
My little sister’s dead. 
True, with the child a troubled life I led,
Yet I would take again, and willing, all the worry,
So very dear was she.

Copyrights
Project Gutenberg
Faust from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.