Thou art a lucky little dear!
Margaret.
And yet I dare not thus be seen
In church, or on the public green.
Martha.
Just come across when you’ve an hour to spare,
And put the gauds on here with none to see!
Then promenade awhile before the mirror there;
’Twill be a joy alike to thee and me.
Then on a Sunday, or a holiday,
Our riches by degrees we can display.
A necklace first, the drops then in your ear;
Your mother sees it not; and should she hear,
’Tis easy to invent some fair pretence or other.
Margaret.
But whence the pretty caskets came? I fear
There’s something in it not right altogether. [Knocking.]
Good God!—I hear a step—is it my mother?
Martha. [looking through the casement]
’Tis a strange gentleman. Come in!
Enter Mephistopheles.
Mephistopheles.
I hope the ladies will not think me rude,
That uninvited thus I here intrude.
[Observing Margaret, he draws back respectfully.]
I have commands for Mistress Martha Schwerdtlein.
Martha.
For me? what has the gentleman to say?
Mephistopheles. [softly to her]
Excuse my freedom. I perceive that you
Have visitors of rank to-day;
For this time I shall bid adieu,
And after dinner do myself the pleasure
To wait upon you, when you’re more at leisure.
Martha. [aloud]
Think, child! of all things in the world the last!
My Gretchen for a lady should have passed!
Margaret.
The gentleman is far too good;
I’m a poor girl—boast neither wealth nor blood.
This dress, these jewels, are not mine.
Mephistopheles.
’Tis not the dress alone that I admire;
She has a mien, a gait, a look so fine,
That speak the lady more than costliest attire.
Martha.
And now your business, sir? I much desire—
Mephistopheles.
Would God I had a better tale to tell!
Small thanks I should receive, I knew it well.
