Page:The Harvard Classics Vol. 19.djvu/125

Rh Deep in my heart is stamp'd for aye; How curt and sharp her answer too, To ecstasy the feeling grew!

(MEPHISTOPHELES enters.)

Faust

This girl must win for me! Dost hear?

Mephistopheles

Which?

Faust She who but now passed.

Mephistopheles

What! She? She from confession cometh here, From every sin absolved and free; I crept near the confessor’s chair. All innocence her virgin soul, For next to nothing went she there; O'er such as she I've no control!

Faust

She’s past fourteen.

Mephistopheles

You really talk Like any gay Lothario, Who every floweret from its stalk Would pluck, and deems nor grace, nor truth, Secure against his arts, forsooth! This ne'er the less won't always do.

Faust

Sir Moralizer, prithee, pause; Nor plague me with your tiresome laws!