Faust.  And see her, too? and have her?

Mephistopheles.  Nay! 
She will to a neighbor’s have gone away. 
Meanwhile alone by yourself you may,
There in her atmosphere, feast at leisure
And revel in dreams of future pleasure.

Faust.  Shall we start at once?

Mephistopheles.  ’Tis too early yet.

Faust.  Some present to take her for me you must get.

      [Exit.]

Mephistopheles.  Presents already!  Brave!  He’s on the right foundation! 
Full many a noble place I know,
And treasure buried long ago;
Must make a bit of exploration.

      [Exit.]

      EVENING.

      A little cleanly Chamber.

MARGARET [braiding and tying up her hair.]
I’d give a penny just to say
What gentleman that was to-day! 
How very gallant he seemed to be,
He’s of a noble family;
That I could read from his brow and bearing—­
And he would not have otherwise been so daring.
      [Exit.]

      FAUST. MEPHISTOPHELES.

Mephistopheles.  Come in, step softly, do not fear!

Faust [after a pause].  Leave me alone, I prithee, here!

Mephistopheles [peering round].  Not every maiden keeps so neat.
      [Exit.]

Faust [gazing round].  Welcome this hallowed still retreat! 
Where twilight weaves its magic glow. 
Seize on my heart, love-longing, sad and sweet,
That on the dew of hope dost feed thy woe! 
How breathes around the sense of stillness,
Of quiet, order, and content! 
In all this poverty what fulness! 
What blessedness within this prison pent!
      [He throws himself into a leathern chair by the bed.]
Take me, too! as thou hast, in years long flown,
In joy and grief, so many a generation! 
Ah me! how oft, on this ancestral throne,
Have troops of children climbed with exultation! 
Perhaps, when Christmas brought the Holy Guest,
My love has here, in grateful veneration
The grandsire’s withered hand with child-lips prest. 
I feel, O maiden, circling me,
Thy spirit of grace and fulness hover,
Which daily like a mother teaches thee
The table-cloth to spread in snowy purity,
And even, with crinkled sand the floor to cover. 
Dear, godlike hand! a touch of thine
Makes this low house a heavenly kingdom slime! 
And here!
      [He lifts a bed-curtain.]
What blissful awe my heart thrills through! 
Here for long hours could I linger. 
Here, Nature! in light dreams, thy airy finger
The inborn angel’s features drew! 
Here lay the child, when life’s fresh heavings
Its tender bosom first made warm,
And here with pure, mysterious weavings
The spirit wrought its godlike form! 
  And thou!  What brought thee here? what power