Mass, Organ, and Singing.

    GRETCHEN among many people, EVIL SPIRIT behind GRETCHEN.
  Evil Spirit. How different, Gretchen, it was with thee,
    When thou, still full of innocence,
    Here to the altar cam'st,
    Out of the well-worn, little book
    Didst prattle prayers,
    Half childhood's play,
    Half God in thy heart!
    Where are thy thoughts?
    Within thy heart
    What foul misdeed?
    Is it for thy mother's soul thou prayest, who
      Through thee to long, long torment fell asleep?
    Upon thy door-sill, whose the blood?
    -Beneath thy heart already
    Is there not stirring swelling life
    That tortureth itself and thee
    With its foreboding presence?
  Gretchen. Woe! Woe!
    Would I were free of thoughts
    That go within me hither and thither
    Against my will!
  Choir. Dies irae, dies illa
    Solvet saeclum in favilla.
                                                  Sound of the organ.
  Evil Spirit. Wrath grips thee!
    The last trumpet sounds!
    The graves are trembling!
    And thy heart,
    From rest in ashes
    To flaming torments
    Raised up, re-created,
    Trembling ascends!
  Gretchen. Would were away from here!
    It seems to me as if the organ
    Would stifle my breathing,
    As if my inmost heart
    Were melted by the singing.
  Choir. Judex ergo cum sedebit,
    Quidquid latet adparebit,
    Nil inultum remanebit.
  Gretchen. I'm stifling here!
    The walls and pillars
    Imprison me!
    The vaulted arches
    Crush me!- Air!
  Evil Spirit. Hide thyself! Sin and shame
    Remain not hidden.
    Air? Light?
    Woe's thee!
  Choir. Quid sum miser tunc dicturus?
    Quem patronum rogaturus,
    Cum vix justus sit securus?
  Evil Spirit. The faces of the Glorified
    Will turn away from thee;
    To thee their hands to offer
    Will the Pure shudder.
  Choir. Quid sum miser tunc dicturus?
  Gretchen. Neighbour! Your smelling-salts!
                                                She falls in a swoon.