No More Learning

from heaven that look was caught!

_Margaret [goes on_]. Loves me--not--loves me--not--
[_picking off the last leaf with tender joy_]
He loves me!

_Faust_. Yes, my child! And be this floral word
An oracle to thee. He loves thee!
Knowest thou all it mean? He loves thee!
[_Clasping both her hands_. ]

_Margaret_. What thrill is this!

_Faust_. O, shudder not! This look of mine.
This pressure of the hand shall tell thee
What cannot be expressed:
Give thyself up at once and feel a rapture,
An ecstasy never to end!
Never! --It's end were nothing but blank despair.
No, unending! unending!

[MARGARET _presses his hands, extricates herself, and runs away.
He stands a moment in thought, then follows her_].

_Martha [coming_]. The night falls fast.

_Mephistopheles_. 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_.