Who knows where the four winds have hurried it!
A lady took him under her protection
At Naples, as he wandered to and fro;
She left him many a mark of her affection,
As to his life’s end he had cause to know.
Martha.
The knave, to treat his helpless orphans so!
To all our misery and all our need,
Amid his reckless life, he gave no heed!
Mephistopheles.
And for that cause he’s dead. If I were you,
Now mark me well, I tell you what I’d do;
I’d mourn him decently for one chaste year,
Then look about me for another dear.
Martha.
Alas! God knows it would be hard to find
Another so completely to my mind.
A better-hearted fool you never knew,
A love of roving was his only vice;
And foreign wine, and foreign women too,
And the accursèd gambling dice.
Mephistopheles.
Such marriage-articles were most convenient,
Had he to you been only half so lenient.
On terms like these myself had no objection
To change with you the ring of conjugal affection.
Martha.
You jest, mein Herr!
Mephistopheles. [aside]
A serious jest for me!
I’d better go; for, if I tarry here,
She’ll take the devil at his word, I fear.
[To Margaret.] How stands it with your heart then?—is it free?
Margaret.
I scarce know what you mean.
Mephistopheles.
Sweet guileless heart!
Ladies, farewell!
Margaret.
Farewell!
