How deeply, cried he, I myself must hate,
My trade to leave, and my wife desolate :
By the remembrance I to death am driven,
Were but her pardon, whilst I yet live, given.

MARTHA-weeping.

The dear good man, long since have I forgiven.

MEPHISTOPHeles.

But, God knows, she was more to blame than I.

MARTHA.

There lies he! what! on the grave's brink to lie!

MEPHISTOPHELES.

No doubt he fabled much at his last gasp,
If I could only half his meaning grasp.
Few hours of pastime have been mine, he said,
First I must children get, and then get bread;
And bread, too, in the widest sense, and yet
Even then could never once in peace my portion eat.

MARTHA.

What, all my faith and love forgotten quite,

The drudgery by day and night!

MEPHISTOPHeles.

Not so, he thought of you with all his heart.
He said, when I from Malta did depart,
I prayed most fervently for wife and child,
And on my prayer a gracious heaven smiled.
Our ship a Turkish vessel prize did make,

That for the Sultan treasure had on board,
And then had bravery its due reward;
Then did I duly of the spoil partake,
And had my well told portion as was fit.

MARTHA.

Eh? how? Eh? where? perhaps he buried it.

MEPHISTOPHeles.

Who knows where the four winds have blown the pelf?
A fair young lady took him to herself
As he a stranger Naples walked about;
Much did she for him in love and truth;
As, to his holy end, he felt in sooth.

MARTHA.

The rogue! the robber of his children! out
Upon him! Could all misery, all need,
Not hinder him his shameless life indeed?

MEPHISTOPHELES.

Yes, see! he is dead now for that same reason.
Were I now in your situation found,

I should just mourn him for a decent season,
Meanwhile, for a new sweetheart look around.

MARTHA.

Oh heavens, but what a man my first one was;
Such on earth I shall not find easily;

There scarce could be a kinder-hearted ass,
Only too fond of wandering was he :

Went with strange women and strange wine astray, And then at those infernal dice would play.

MEPHISTOPHELES.

If on his part, about as much in you
He'd overlook, that very well might do;
If such an understanding were expressed,

I swear myself I'd change with you the ring.

MARTHA.

Oh, but the gentleman is pleased to jest.

MEPHISTOPHELES-to himself.

Oh, no. Now will I in good time take wing,very devil to his word she'd pin.

The

TO MARGARET.

How goes it, gentle damsel, with your heart?

MARGARET.

What means the gentleman?

MEPHISTOPHELES-to himself.

The charming child, so pure and free from sin.

Ladies, farewell.

MARGARET.

Farewell.

[loud.

MARTHA.

Oh, say before we part,

Some testimony I would gladly have,

How, when, my darling died, and where his grave?
To order I have always been a friend indeed,
Would gladly, too, his death in the newspaper read.

MEPHISTOPHELES.

Yes, my good lady, when two witnesses appear,
The double testimony makes truth always clear;

A gallant comrade have I whom I'll bring
Before the judge to testify the thing;

I'll bring him here.

MARTHA.

Oh, yes, do so.

MEPHISTOPHELES.

And the young lady will be here also.

'Tis a brave youth, well travelled too is he, And used to ladies' sweet society.

MARGARET.

Before him then my cheeks with shame would glow.

MEPHISTOPHELES.

No, no, before no earthly potentate.

MARTHA.

Behind the house, then, Sir, this evening;

Here in my garden,—we the gentlemen await.