Faust.
To thy pure heart the purest joy, no doubt.
Margaret.
Ay! but full many an hour
Heavy with sorrow, and with labor sour.
The infant’s cradle stood beside
My bed, and when it stirred or cried,
I must awake;
Sometimes to give it drink, sometimes to take
It with me to my bed, and fondle it:
And when all this its fretting might not stay,
I rose, and danced about, and dandled it;
And after that I must away
To wash the clothes by break of day.
I make the markets too, and keep house for my mother,
One weary day just like another;
Thus drudging on, the day might lack delights,
But food went lightly down, and sleep was sweet o’ nights.
[They pass on.
Martha.
A woman’s case is not much to be vaunted;
A hardened bachelor is hard to mend.
Mephistopheles.
A few apostles such as you were wanted,
From evil ways their vagrant steps to bend.
Martha.
Speak plainly, sir, have you found nothing yet?
Are you quite disentangled from the net?
Mephistopheles.
A house and hearth, we have been often told,
With a good wife, is worth its weight in gold.
Martha.
I mean, sir, have you never felt the want?
Mephistopheles.
A good reception I have always found.
Martha.
I mean to say, did your heart never pant?
Mephistopheles.
For ladies my respect is too profound
To jest on such a serious theme as this.
