Faust.  Dear child!

Margaret.  It long has troubled me That thou shouldst keep such company.

Faust.  How so?

Margaret.  The man whom thou for crony hast,
Is one whom I with all my soul detest. 
Nothing in all my life has ever
Stirred up in my heart such a deep disfavor
As the ugly face that man has got.

Faust.  Sweet plaything; fear him not!

Margaret.  His presence stirs my blood, I own. 
I can love almost all men I’ve ever known;
But much as thy presence with pleasure thrills me,
That man with a secret horror fills me. 
And then for a knave I’ve suspected him long! 
God pardon me, if I do him wrong!

Faust.  To make up a world such odd sticks are needed.

Margaret.  Shouldn’t like to live in the house where he did! 
Whenever I see him coming in,
He always wears such a mocking grin. 
Half cold, half grim;
One sees, that naught has interest for him;
’Tis writ on his brow and can’t be mistaken,
No soul in him can love awaken. 
I feel in thy arms so happy, so free,
I yield myself up so blissfully,
He comes, and all in me is closed and frozen now.

Faust.  Ah, thou mistrustful angel, thou!

Margaret.  This weighs on me so sore,
That when we meet, and he is by me,
I feel, as if I loved thee now no more. 
Nor could I ever pray, if he were nigh me,
That eats the very heart in me;
Henry, it must be so with thee.

Faust.  ’Tis an antipathy of thine!

Margaret.  Farewell!

Faust.  Ah, can I ne’er recline One little hour upon thy bosom, pressing My heart to thine and all my soul confessing?

Margaret.  Ah, if my chamber were alone,
This night the bolt should give thee free admission;
But mother wakes at every tone,
And if she had the least suspicion,
Heavens!  I should die upon the spot!

Faust.  Thou angel, need of that there’s not. 
Here is a flask!  Three drops alone
Mix with her drink, and nature
Into a deep and pleasant sleep is thrown.

Margaret.  Refuse thee, what can I, poor creature?  I hope, of course, it will not harm her!

Faust.  Would I advise it then, my charmer?

Margaret.  Best man, when thou dost look at me,
I know not what, moves me to do thy will;
I have already done so much for thee,
Scarce any thing seems left me to fulfil.
     [Exit.]

     Enter_ MEPHISTOPHELES.

Mephtftopheles.  The monkey! is she gone?

Faust.  Hast played the spy again?

Mephistopheles.  I overheard it all quite fully. 
The Doctor has been well catechized then? 
Hope it will sit well on him truly. 
The maidens won’t rest till they know if the men
Believe as good old custom bids them do. 
They think:  if there he yields, he’ll follow our will too.