Part 33 (1/2)

Alack, that men are so unfortunate!

Surely for his soul's sake full many a prayer I'll proffer.

MEPHISTOPHELES

You well deserve a speedy marriage-offer: You are so kind, compa.s.sionate.

MARGARET

O, no! As yet, it would not do.

MEPHISTOPHELES

If not a husband, then a beau for you!

It is the greatest heavenly blessing, To have a dear thing for one's caressing.

MARGARET

The country's custom is not so.

MEPHISTOPHELES

Custom, or not! It happens, though.

MARTHA

Continue, pray!

MEPHISTOPHELES

I stood beside his bed of dying.

'Twas something better than manure,- Half-rotten straw: and yet, he died a Christian, sure, And found that heavier scores to his account were lying.

He cried: ”I find my conduct wholly hateful!

To leave my wife, my trade, in manner so ungrateful!

Ah, the remembrance makes me die!

Would of my wrong to her I might be shriven!”

MARTHA (weeping)

The dear, good man! Long since was he forgiven.

MEPHISTOPHELES

”Yet she, G.o.d knows! was more to blame than I.”

MARTHA

He lied! What! On the brink of death he slandered?

MEPHISTOPHELES

In the last throes his senses wandered, If I such things but half can judge.