Before the return of Valentine she had begun to place her reliance in prayer and repentance, and now these holier feelings once more gained the ascendancy over her, and she fell upon her knees to pray. It was in vain that the despairing Faust implored her to escape with him, and the exulting Demon tempted her to yield; and at last, with a final prayer for pardon and mercy, she fell back upon her wretched couch, and expired at their feet.
Mephistopheles uttered a cry of fiendish triumph; but at that moment a chorus of angelic voices was heard proclaiming forgiveness for the repentant sinner, whose faithful prayers had reached the Mercy-Seat on High.
Faust, awed and overcome with sorrow, sank to his knees in prayer, and as the Evil Spirit, thus balked of his expected prey, shrank back defeated, the prison walls opened, and the released and ransomed soul of Margarita was borne upwards to its celestial home.
PHILEMON AND BAUCIS
One stormy evening, long ago, in the mythical days of the gods and heroes of the Ancients, a poor peasant named Philemon and his wife, Baucis, were resting peacefully in their humble cottage, where they had lived together for many years of happy wedded life. They were now growing old; but although the shadows of life's eventide were fast deepening around them, they did not waste their remaining days in uttering vain regrets after departed youth, because the love in their hearts was as fresh and green as ever, and happiness was still theirs, in spite of poverty and old age.
As they sat together in the twilight this evening, whilst the sound of the gathering storm without came every now and again to their ears, they were rejoicing with each other because of the joy that yet remained to them. Though they could no longer join in the merry dances and wild pleasures of the gay young folks around them, that fact did not trouble them at all, since contentment was theirs; and they declared to one another that even in the days of their youth they were not happier than now in their old age, for, as the years went on, the love in their faithful hearts grew deeper and stronger than ever. Since they enjoyed such perfect love and harmony, they did not envy the careless youths and maidens, but resigned themselves cheerfully to old age, knowing well that life would be sweet to the very end whilst love remained to them.
Thus did the contented old couple talk happily together until darkness fell; and not even a band of merry Bacchantes who presently danced past the cottage door, on wildest revels bent, could draw from either a sigh of regret for the lost pleasures of youth.
When, however, the song of the Bacchantes had died away in the distance, Baucis declared that it was now time for the evening meal, and went into an inner room to prepare the humble food that was sweeter to them than the luxuries of the rich, since it was procured by their own honest labour, and seasoned with love.
When she had gone, Philemon busied himself by making the fire burn more brightly; and whilst engaged in this homely task, he was interrupted by an imperative knock at the cottage door. By this time the storm was raging with great violence; and when, upon opening the door, he was accosted by two strangers who craved shelter from the wind and rain, Philemon at once invited them to enter, being distressed that travellers should be out on such a wild night.