'Tis not so great, by a long way,
As if you first, with tender twaddle,
And every sort of fiddle-faddle,
Your little doll should mould and knead,
As one in French romances may read.
As if you first, with tender twaddle,
And every sort of fiddle-faddle,
Your little doll should mould and knead,
As one in French romances may read.
Faust, a Tragedy by Goethe
_Mephistopheles_. Thou speak'st exactly like Jack Rake,
Who every fair flower his own would make.
And thinks there can be no favor nor fame,
But one may straightway pluck the same.
But 'twill not always do, we see.
_Faust_. My worthy Master Gravity,
Let not a word of the Law be spoken!
One thing be clearly understood,--
Unless I clasp the sweet, young blood
This night in my arms--then, well and good:
When midnight strikes, our bond is broken.
_Mephistopheles_. Reflect on all that lies in the way!
I need a fortnight, at least, to a day,
For finding so much as a way to reach her.
_Faust_. Had I seven hours, to call my own,
Without the devil's aid, alone
I'd snare with ease so young a creature.
_Mephistopheles_. You talk quite Frenchman-like to-day;
But don't be vexed beyond all measure.
What boots it thus to snatch at pleasure?
'Tis not so great, by a long way,
As if you first, with tender twaddle,
And every sort of fiddle-faddle,
Your little doll should mould and knead,
As one in French romances may read.
_Faust_. My appetite needs no such spur.
_Mephistopheles_. Now, then, without a jest or slur,
I tell you, once for all, such speed
With the fair creature won't succeed.
Nothing will here by storm be taken;
We must perforce on intrigue reckon.
_Faust_. Get me some trinket the angel has blest!
Lead me to her chamber of rest!
Get me a 'kerchief from her neck,
A garter get me for love's sweet sake!
_Mephistopheles_. To prove to you my willingness
To aid and serve you in this distress;
You shall visit her chamber, by me attended,
Before the passing day is ended.
_Faust_. And see her, too? and have her?
_Mephistopheles_.
