Goethe's Faust / translated into English verse by Sir George Lefevre.

  • Goethe, Johann Wolfgang von, 1749-1832.
Date:
1843
Catalogue details

Licence: Public Domain Mark

Credit: Goethe's Faust / translated into English verse by Sir George Lefevre. Source: Wellcome Collection.

Provider: This material has been provided by Royal College of Physicians, London. The original may be consulted at Royal College of Physicians, London.

    128/222 (page 116)
    What dost tliou here? Why ’s thy heart sore Poor Faust! I do not know thee more! Does a spell haunt me in this place? Much did I long for her embrace! Love’s dream hath done its best to please; Are we the sport of every breeze? Were her steps here a moment bent, How would’st thou of thy crime repent; How little would the great man feel, When in her presence forc’d to kneel. Mephistopheles. Haste, haste! I see them come this way. Faust. Go, go! return I never may. Mephistopheles. Here is a casket of some worth, From elsewhere I have lugg’d it forth; Just place it somewhere near her bed,— I warrant you she ’ll lose her head. ’Tis fill’d with trifles, nor in vain, For with them you ’ll another gain. Children are children,—play is play. Faust. I know not! Shall I? Mephistopheles. Well-a-day! Would you yourself the casket keep? If so, your love is not too deep.