We let them one by one appear
A chain, a pearl-drop in the ear-
And coin some story or another

To keep the matter from

your

mother.

MARGARET.

Twice to have had such caskets brought,
There's something in it more than ought!

Good God! my mother! I'll be seen.

MARTHA.

'Tis a strange gentleman.- Come in.

MEPHISTOPHELES (enters).

[A knock.

I've come unceremoniously;

But, ladies, you will pardon me.

[Retreats respectfully before MARGaret.

To Mrs. Schwerdtlein was my visit:

I'm told this is her lodging. Is it?

MARTHA.

Sir, I'm the person. What's your pleasure?

MEPHISTOPHELES.

I'll call when you are more at leisure :
You have a guest of consequence;
I'll call again in three hours hence.

MARTHA (to MARGARET).

The funniest thing I ever knew
The gentleman imagined you
To be some lady of high rank.
I can't but laugh.

MARGARET.

I have to thank

The gentleman's extreme good nature.
I am a poor young humble creature:
These ornaments are not my own.

MEPHISTOPHeles.

I did not judge by them alone; 'Tis something in your mien and glance. - My visit was a lucky chance.

MARTHA (aside).

To know what brings him, I am dying.

MEPHISTOPHeles.

I wish I had news more gratifying;
But blame me not, though sad it prove.
Your husband's dead, and sends his love.

MARTHA.

Is dead! the faithful creature dead!

My husband would 'twere I instead.

-

MARGARET.

Friend, let thy strong good sense prevail

O'er grief

MEPHISTOPHeles.

And hear the full detail.

MARGARET.

I fear at all to think of love,

Such loss my certain death would prove.

MEPHISTOPHeles.

Grief waits on joy-joy follows grief.

MARTHA.

Tell on; it will be some relief.

MEPHISTOPHELES

In Padua, at St. Anthony's,

In consecrated earth he lies!

A cool bed under the church floor,

Where he sleeps soundly.

MARTHA.

Nothing more?

MEPHISTOPHeles.

Oh, yes! a death-bed legacy :
His last commission was to thee,
To have three hundred masses said,
With requiem service for the dead.
His last was a religious thought:
This is the whole of what I brought.

MARTHA.

What, not a coin, no trinket token,

Nothing to soothe his

poor heart-broken? Why, the most paltry artisan, The veriest wretch in form of man, Some small memorial still will hoard, Some little pledge in secret stored, To show his love is not forgot

Will starve

will beg― but parts it not!

MEPHISTOPHeles.

Madam, I'm sorry for his blindness

To the true value of your kindness :

'Tis your mistake, to think he squandered His money as he died, he pondered

The past and, as his heart relented,

His sins and his bad luck repented.

MARGARET.

Unhappy men! I weep for them!
He shall not want my requiem !

MEPHISTOPHELES.

Oh, what an angel she will prove,

So kind, so good, — in wedded love!

-

MARGARET.

Time long enough 'twill be till then.

Mephistopheles.

You'll find admirers 'mong the men:

If not a husband, yet some lover

Will soon these ripening charms discover: Heaven gives us nothing better here

Than clasping one so loved, so dear.

MARGARET.

'Tis not the custom of the place.

MEPHISTOPHeles.

Custom or not, it is the case.

MARTHA.

Tell on.