should allow one's self to jest with ladies never.

MARTHA
Ah, you don't understand!

MEPHISTOPHELES

I'm sorry I'm so blind:
But I am sure--that you are very kind.

[_They pass_.

FAUST

And me, thou angel! didst thou recognize,
As through the garden-gate I came?

MARGARET

Did you not see it? I cast down my eyes.

FAUST

And thou forgiv'st my freedom, and the blame
To my impertinence befitting,
As the Cathedral thou wert quitting?

MARGARET

I was confused, the like ne'er happened me;
No one could ever speak to my discredit.
Ah, thought I, in my conduct has he read it--
Something immodest or unseemly free?
He seemed to have the sudden feeling
That with this wench 'twere very easy dealing.
I will confess, I knew not what appeal
On your behalf, here, in my bosom grew;
But I was angry with myself, to feel
That I could not be angrier with you.

FAUST

Sweet darling!

MARGARET

Wait a while!

(_She plucks a star-flower, and pulls off the leaves, one after
the other_.)

FAUST

Shall that a nosegay be?

MARGARET

No, it is just in play.

FAUST

How?

MARGARET

Go! you'll laugh at me.
(_She pulls off the leaves and murmurs_.)

FAUST

What murmurest thou?

MARGARET (_half aloud_)

He loves me--loves me not.

FAUST

Thou sweet, angelic soul!

MARGARET (_continues_)

Loves me--not--loves me--not--
(_plucking the last leaf, she cries with frank delight_:)

He loves me!

FAUST

Yes, child! and let this blossom-word
For thee be speech divine! He loves thee!
Ah, know'st thou what it means? He loves thee!

(_He grasps both her hands_.)

MARGARET

I'm all a-tremble!

FAUST

O tremble not! but let this look,
Let this warm clasp of hands declare thee
What is unspeakable!
To yield one wholly, and to feel a rapture
In yielding, that must be eternal!
Eternal!--for the end would be despair.
No, no,--no ending! no ending!

MARTHA (_coming forward_)

The night is falling.

MEPHISTOPHELES

Ay! we must away.

MARTHA

I'd ask you, longer here to tarry,
But evil tongues in this town have full play.
It's as if nobody had nothing to fetch and carry,
Nor other labor,
But spying all the doings of one's neighbor:
And one becomes the talk, do whatsoe'er one may.
Where is our couple now?

MEPHISTOPHELES

Flown up the alley yonder,
The wilful summer-birds!

MARTHA

He seems of her still fonder.

MEP