Part 29 (2/2)

What bliss within this narrow den is pent!

(He throws himself into a leathern arm-chair near the bed.)

Receive me, thou, that in thine open arms Departed joy and pain wert wont to gather!

How oft the children, with their ruddy charms, Hung here, around this throne, where sat the father!

Perchance my love, amid the childish band, Grateful for gifts the Holy Christmas gave her, Here meekly kissed the grandsire's withered hand.

I feel, O maid! thy very soul Of order and content around me whisper,- Which leads thee with its motherly control, The cloth upon thy board bids smoothly thee unroll, The sand beneath thy feet makes whiter, crisper.

O dearest hand, to thee 'tis given To change this hut into a lower heaven!

And here!

(He lifts one of the bed-curtains.)

What sweetest thrill is in my blood!

Here could I spend whole hours, delaying: Here Nature shaped, as if in sportive playing, The angel blossom from the bud.

Here lay the child, with Life's warm essence The tender bosom filled and fair, And here was wrought, through holier, purer presence, The form diviner beings wear!

And I? What drew me here with power?

How deeply am I moved, this hour!

What seek I? Why so full my heart, and sore?

Miserable Faust! I know thee now no more.

Is there a magic vapor here?

I came, with l.u.s.t of instant pleasure, And lie dissolved in dreams of love's sweet leisure!

Are we the sport of every changeful atmosphere?

And if, this moment, came she in to me, How would I for the fault atonement render!

How small the giant lout would be, p.r.o.ne at her feet, relaxed and tender!

MEPHISTOPHELES

Be quick! I see her there, returning.

FAUST

Go! go! I never will retreat.

MEPHISTOPHELES

Here is a casket, not unmeet, Which elsewhere I have just been earning.

Here, set it in the press, with haste!

I swear, 'twill turn her head, to spy it: Some baubles I therein had placed, That you might win another by it.

True, child is child, and play is play.

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