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A STREET
FAUST. MEPHISTOPHELES.
FAUST
How is it now? How speeds it? Is't in train?
MEPHISTOPHELES
Bravo! I find you all aflame!
Gretchen full soon your own you'll name.
This eve, at neighbour Martha's, her you'll meet again;
The woman secins expressly made
To drive the pimp and gipsy's trade.
FAUST
Good!
MEPHISTOPHELES
But from us she something would request.
FAUST
A favour claims return as this world goes.
MEPHISTOPHELES
We have on oath but duly to attest,
That her dead husband's limbs, outstretch'd, repose
In holy ground at Padua.
FAUST
Sage indeed!
So I suppose we straight must journey there!
MEPHISTOPHELES
Sancta simplicitas! For that no need!
Without much knowledge we have but to swear.
FAUST
If you have nothing better to suggest,
Against your plan I must at once protest.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Oh, holy man! methinks I have you there!
In all your life say, have you ne'er
False witness borne, until this hour?
Have you of God, the world, and all it doth contain,
Of man, and that which worketh in his heart and brain,
Not definitions given, in words of weight and power,
With front unblushing, and a dauntless breast?
Yet, if into the depth of things you go,
Touching these matters, it must be confess'd,
As much as of Herr Schwerdtlein's death you know!
FAUST
Thou art and dost remain liar and sophist too.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Ay, if one did not take a somewhat deeper view!
To-morrow, in all honour, thou
Poor Gretchen wilt befool, and vow
Thy soul's deep love, in lover's fashion.
FAUST
And from my heart.
MEPHISTOPHELES
All good and fair!
Then deathless constancy thou'lt swear;
Speak of one all o'ermastering passion,--
Will that too issue from the heart?
FAUST
Forbear!
When passion sways me, and I seek to frame
Fit utterance for feeling, deep, intense,
And for my frenzy finding no fit name,
Sweep round the ample world with every sense,
Grasp at the loftiest words to speak my flame,
And call the glow, wherewith I burn,
Quenchless, eternal, yea, eterne--
Is that of sophistry a devilish play?
MEPHISTOPHELES
Yet am I right!
FAUST
Mark this, my friend,
And spare my lungs; who would the right maintain,
And hath a tongue wherewith his point to gain,
Will gain it in the end.
But come, of gossip I am weary quite;
Because I've no resource, thou'rt in the right.
Content of A STREET [Johann Wolfgang von Goethe's play/drama: Faust Part 1]
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Read next: A GARDEN.
Read previous: THE NEIGHBOUR'S HOUSE.
Table of content of Faust - Part 1
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