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  "work": {
    "slug": "faust-i",
    "name": "Faust I (1808)"
  },
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      "slug": "faust",
      "name": "Faust (Parts I and II)",
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  "chapter": {
    "num": 11,
    "slug": "11-scene-8-evening",
    "title": "Scene VIII — Evening",
    "of": 28,
    "words": 1008,
    "text": "MarGaRET\n( plaiting and binding up the braids of her hair).\n| 'D something give, could I but say\nWho was that gentleman, to-day.\nSurely a gallant man was he,\nAnd of a noble family ;\n\nSo much could I in his face behold, —\n\nAnd he would n't, else, have been so bold!\n[ Exit.\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES. Faust.\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\n\nCome in, but gently: follow me!\n\nFaust (after a moment's silence).\n\nLeave me alone, I beg of thee!\n\nScene VILL. 165\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES ( prying about).\n\nNot every girl keeps things so neat.\n\nFaust (looking around ).\n\nO welcome, twilight soft and sweet,%7\n\nThat breathes throughout this hallowed shrine!\nSweet pain of love, bind thou with fetters fleet\n\nThe heart that on the dew of hope must pine!\nHow all around a sense impresses\n\nOf quiet, order, and content !\n\nThis poverty what bounty blesses !\n\nWhat bliss within this narrow den is pent !\n(He throws himself into a leathern arm-chair near the bed.)\n\nReceive me, thou, that in thine open arms\n\nDeparted joy and pain wert wont to gather!\n\nHow oft the children, with their ruddy charms,\nHung here, around this throne, where sat the father!\nPerchance my love, amid the childish band,\n\nGrateful for gifts the Holy Christmas gave her,\nHere meekly kissed the grandsire's withered hand.\n\nI feel, O maid! thy very soul\n\nOf order and content around me whisper, —\n\n166 Faust.\n\nWhich leads thee with its motherly control,\n\nThe cloth upon thy board bids smoothly thee unroll,\nThe sand beneath thy feet makes whiter, crisper.\n\nO dearest hand, to thee 't is given\n\nTo change this hut into a lower heaven!\n\nAnd here!\n(He lifts one of the bed-curtains.)\n\nWhat sweetest thrill is in my blood!\nHere could I spend whole hours, delaying:\nHere Nature shaped, as if in sportive playing,\nThe angel blossom from the bud. |\n\nHere lay the child, with Life's warm essence\nThe tender bosom filled and fair,\nAnd here was wrought, through holier, purer presence,\n\nThe form diviner beings wear !\n\nAnd 1? What drew me here with power?\nHow deeply am I moved, this hour!\nWhat seek I? Why so full my heart, and sore?\n\nMiserable Faust! I know thee now no more.\n\nIs there a magic vapor here?\n\nI came, with lust of instant pleasure,\n\nScene VII. 167\n\nAnd lie dissolved in dreams of love's sweet leisure !\n\nAre we the sport of every changeful atmosphere?\n\nAnd if, this moment, came she in to me,\nHow would I for the fault atonement render!\nHow small the giant lout would be,\n\nProne at her feet, relaxed and tender!\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\n\nBe quick! I see her there, returning.\n\nFaust.\n\nGo! go! I never will retreat.\ng\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\n\nHere is a casket, not unmeet,\n\nWhich elsewhere I have just been earning.\nHere, set it in the press, with haste!\n\nI swear, 't will turn her head, to spy it:\nSome baubles I therein had placed,\n\nThat you might win another by it.\n\nTrue, child is child, and play is play.\n\n168 Faust.\n\nFaust.\n\nI know not, should I do it?\n\nMEPHISTOPHELES.\nAsk you, pray?\nYourself, pernaps, would keep the bubble?\nThen I suggest, 't were fair and just\nTo spare the lovely day your lust,\nAnd spare to me the further trouble.\nYou are not miserly, I trust ?\nI rub my hands, in expectation tender —\n(He places the casket in the press, and locks it again.)\n\nNow quick, away !\nThe sweet young maiden to betray,\nSo that by wish and will you bend her;\nAnd you look as though\nTo the lecture-hall you were forced to go, —\nAs if stood before you, gray and loath,\nPhysics and Metaphysics both!\n\nBut away ! r eine\n\nMarcaretT (with a lamp).\nIt is so close, so sultry, here!\n\n(She opens the window.)\n\nScene VILT.\n\nAnd yet 't is not so warm outside.\n\nI feel, I know not why, such fear ! —\nWould mother came! — where can she bide?\nMy body's chill and shuddering, —\n\nI'm but a silly, fearsome thing!\n(She begins to sing, while undressing.)\n\nThere was a King in Thule,\nWas faithful till the grave, —\nTo whom his mistress, dying,\n\nA golden goblet gave.\n\nNaught was to him more precious ;\nHe drained it at every bout:\nHis eyes with tears ran over,\n\nAs oft as he drank thereout.\n\nWhen came his time of dying,\nThe towns in his land he told,\n\nNaught else to his heir denying\nExcept the goblet of gold.\n\nHe sat at the royal banquet\nWith his knights of high degree,\n\n170 faust.\n\nIn the lofty hall of his fathers\nIn the Castle by the Sea.\n\nThere stood the old carouser,\nAnd drank the last life-glow ;\nAnd hurled the hallowed goblet\nInto the tide below.\n\nHe saw it plunging and filling,\nAnd sinking deep in the sea:\nThen fell his eyelids forever,\n\nAnd never more drank he!\n\n(She opens the press in order to arrange her clothes, and perceives the\n\ncasket of jewels.)\n\nHow comes that lovely casket here to me?\n\nI locked the press, most certainly.\n\n\"T is truly wonderful! What can within it be?\nPerhaps 't was brought by some one as a pawn,\nAnd mother gave a loan thereon?\n\nAnd here there hangs a key to fit:\n\nI have a mind to open it.\n\nWhat is that? God in Heaven! Whence came\nSuch things? Never beheld I aught so fair!\n\nScene VITT. 171\n\nRich ornaments, such as a noble dame\nOn highest holidays might wear!\nHow would the pearl-chain suit my hair?\n\nAh, who may all this splendor own?\n(She adorns herself with the jewelry, and steps before the mirror.)\n\nWere but the ear-rings mine, alone!\n\nOne has at once another air.\n\nWhat helps one's beauty, youthful blood ?\nOne may possess them, well and good ;\nBut none the more do others care.\n\nThey praise us half in pity, sure:\n\nTo gold still tends,\n\nOn gold depends\n\nAll, all! Alas, we poor!\n\n172 Faust.\n\nIX.\nPROMENADE.",
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