Oh! of course, of course!
Then will you speak, till you are hoarse,
Of love, and constancy, and truth,
And feelings of eternal youth—
Will that too be the simple sooth?
Faust.
It will! it will!—for, when I feel,
And for the feeling, the confusion
Of feelings, that absorbs my mind,
Seek for names, and none can find,
Sweep through the universe’s girth
For every highest word to give it birth;
And then this soul-pervading flame,
Infinite, endless, endless name,
Call you this nought but devilish delusion?
Mephistopheles.
Still I am right!
Faust.
Hold! mark me, you
Are right indeed! for this is true,
Who will be right, and only has a tongue,
Is never wrong.
Come, I confess thee master in debating,
That I may be delivered from thy prating.
end of act third.
ACT IV.
Scene I.
Martha’s Garden.
Margaret on Faust’s arm; Martha with Mephistopheles, walking up and down.
Margaret.
I feel it well, ’tis from pure condescension
You pay to one like me so much attention.
With travellers ’tis a thing of course,
To be contented with the best they find;
For sure a man of cultivated mind
Can have small pleasure in my poor discourse.
Faust.
One look from thee, one word, delights me more
Than all the world’s high-vaunted lore.
[He kisses her hand.
