Western European stream·Works of Goethe·Faust (Parts I and II)·Faust I (1808)·Scene VIII — Evening

Source context

Theme

Gretchen's chamber as site of innocent soul's first encounter with Mephistophelean intrusion and Faust's erotic-spiritual projection

Soul-faculty

Sentient Soul

Steiner

not engaged in the GA corpus

Cross-tradition

• Sufi poetics (ghazal tradition)The beloved's enclosed chamber as liminal space where the lover's longing transgresses sacred boundaries carries cross-tradition congruence with the ghazal's motif of the lover at the threshold of the sanctum, desire mediating between profane and divine.
• Kabbalistic symbolism (Shekhinah / feminine divine presence)Gretchen's room, suffused with an atmosphere of purity that Faust himself names, carries cross-tradition congruence with Kabbalistic descriptions of the Shekhinah as an immanent feminine sanctity that demonic forces can approach but not directly inhabit.

MarGaRET ( plaiting and binding up the braids of her hair). | 'D something give, could I but say Who was that gentleman, to-day. Surely a gallant man was he, And of a noble family ;

So much could I in his face behold, —

And he would n't, else, have been so bold! [ Exit.

MEPHISTOPHELES. Faust.

MEPHISTOPHELES.

Come in, but gently: follow me!

Faust (after a moment's silence).

Leave me alone, I beg of thee!

Scene VILL. 165

MEPHISTOPHELES ( prying about).

Not every girl keeps things so neat.

Faust (looking around ).

O welcome, twilight soft and sweet,%7

That breathes throughout this hallowed shrine! Sweet pain of love, bind thou with fetters fleet

The heart that on the dew of hope must pine! How all around a sense impresses

Of quiet, order, and content !

This poverty what bounty blesses !

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, —

166Faust.
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 't is 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 1? 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 lust of instant pleasure, Scene VII. 167 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, Prone at her feet, relaxed and tender! MEPHISTOPHELES. Be quick! I see her there, returning. Faust. Go! go! I never will retreat. g MEPHISTOPHELES. Here is a casket, not unmeet, Which elsewhere I have just been earning. Here, set it in the press, with haste! I swear, 't will 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.

168Faust.
Faust. I know not, should I do it? MEPHISTOPHELES. Ask you, pray? Yourself, pernaps, would keep the bubble? Then I suggest, 't were fair and just To spare the lovely day your lust, And spare to me the further trouble. You are not miserly, I trust ? I rub my hands, in expectation tender — (He places the casket in the press, and locks it again.) Now quick, away ! The sweet young maiden to betray, So that by wish and will you bend her; And you look as though To the lecture-hall you were forced to go, — As if stood before you, gray and loath, Physics and Metaphysics both! But away ! r eine MarcaretT (with a lamp). It is so close, so sultry, here! (She opens the window.) Scene VILT. And yet 't is not so warm outside. I feel, I know not why, such fear ! — Would mother came! — where can she bide? My body's chill and shuddering, — I'm but a silly, fearsome thing! (She begins to sing, while undressing.) There was a King in Thule, Was faithful till the grave, — To whom his mistress, dying, A golden goblet gave. Naught was to him more precious ; He drained it at every bout: His eyes with tears ran over, As oft as he drank thereout. When came his time of dying, The towns in his land he told, Naught else to his heir denying Except the goblet of gold. He sat at the royal banquet With his knights of high degree,

170faust.
In the lofty hall of his fathers In the Castle by the Sea. There stood the old carouser, And drank the last life-glow ; And hurled the hallowed goblet Into the tide below. He saw it plunging and filling, And sinking deep in the sea: Then fell his eyelids forever, And never more drank he! (She opens the press in order to arrange her clothes, and perceives the casket of jewels.) How comes that lovely casket here to me? I locked the press, most certainly. "T is truly wonderful! What can within it be? Perhaps 't was brought by some one as a pawn, And mother gave a loan thereon? And here there hangs a key to fit: I have a mind to open it. What is that? God in Heaven! Whence came Such things? Never beheld I aught so fair! Scene VITT. 171 Rich ornaments, such as a noble dame On highest holidays might wear! How would the pearl-chain suit my hair? Ah, who may all this splendor own? (She adorns herself with the jewelry, and steps before the mirror.) Were but the ear-rings mine, alone! One has at once another air. What helps one's beauty, youthful blood ? One may possess them, well and good ; But none the more do others care. They praise us half in pity, sure: To gold still tends, On gold depends All, all! Alas, we poor!

172Faust.
IX. PROMENADE.

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