[She plunges the ladle into the kettle, and spurts out flame on Faust, Mephistopheles, and the Brutes. These last whine.
Mephistopheles. [Who, in the meantime, had turned round the butt-end of the brush, now dashes in amongst the pots and glasses.]
In two! in two!
There lies the broth!
The glass and the kettle,
Shiver them both!
’Tis a jest, thou must know,
Thou carrion crow!
’Tis a tune to keep time,
To thy senseless rhyme.
[While the Witch, foaming with rage and fury, draws back.]
What! know’st me not? thou scrag! thou Jezebel!
Thy lord and master? thou should’st know me well.
What hinders me, in all my strength to come
And crush you and your cat-imps ’neath my thumb?
Know’st not the scarlet-doublet, mole-eyed mother?
Bow’st not the knee before the famed cock’s feather?
Use your old eyes; behind a mask
Did I conceal my honest face?
And when I come here must I ask
A special introduction to your Grace?
The Witch.
O my liege lord! forgive the rough salute!
I did not see the horse’s foot:
And where too have you left your pair of ravens?
Mephistopheles.
For this time you may thank the heavens
That you have made so cheap an escape;
’Tis some time since I saw your face,
And things since then have moved apace.
The march of modern cultivation,
That licks the whole world into shape,
Has reached the Devil. In this wise generation
The Northern phantom is no longer seen,
And horns and tail and claws have been.
And for my hoof, with which I can’t dispense,
In good society ’twould give great offence;
Therefore, like many a smart sprig of nobility,
I use false calves to trick out my gentility.
The Witch. [dancing]
Heyday! it almost turns my brain
To see Squire Satan here again!
Mephistopheles.
Woman, you must not call me by that name!
The Witch.
And wherefore not? I see no cause for shame.
Mephistopheles.
That name has had its station long assigned
With Mother Bunch; and yet I cannot see
Men are much better for the want of me.
