MARGARET
[_darts in, hides behind the door, presses the tip of
her finger to her lips, and peeps through the crack_].
Faust, a Tragedy by Goethe
Ay, and we must away.
_Martha_. If it were not for one vexation,
I would insist upon your longer stay.
Nobody seems to have no occupation,
No care nor labor,
Except to play the spy upon his neighbor;
And one becomes town-talk, do whatsoe'er they may.
But where's our pair of doves?
_Mephistopheles_. Flown up the alley yonder.
Light summer-birds!
_Martha_. He seems attached to her.
_Mephistopheles_. No wonder.
And she to him. So goes the world, they say.
A SUMMER-HOUSE. MARGARET
[_darts in, hides behind the door, presses the tip of
her finger to her lips, and peeps through the crack_].
