No More Learning

_Faust_. Sweet plaything; fear him not!

_Margaret_. His presence stirs my blood, I own.
I can love almost all men I've ever known;
But much as thy presence with pleasure thrills me,
That man with a secret horror fills me.
And then for a knave I've suspected him long!
God pardon me, if I do him wrong!

_Faust_. To make up a world such odd sticks are needed.

_Margaret_. Shouldn't like to live in the house where he did!
Whenever I see him coming in,
He always wears such a mocking grin.
Half cold, half grim;
One sees, that naught has interest for him;
'Tis writ on his brow and can't be mistaken,
No soul in him can love awaken.
I feel in thy arms so happy, so free,
I yield myself up so blissfully,
He comes, and all in me is closed and frozen now.

_Faust_.
Ah, thou mistrustful angel, thou!

_Margaret_. This weighs on me so sore,
That when we meet, and he is by me,
I feel, as if I loved thee now no more.
Nor could I ever pray, if he were nigh me,
That eats the very heart in me;
Henry, it must be so with thee.

_Faust_. 'Tis an antipathy of thine!

_Margaret_. Farewell!

_Faust_. Ah, can I ne'er recline
One little hour upon thy bosom, pressing
My heart to thine and all my soul confessing?

_Margaret_. Ah, if my chamber were alone,
This night the bolt should give thee free admission;
But mother wakes at every tone,
And if she had the least suspicion,
Heavens! I should die upon the spot!

_Faust_. Thou angel, need of that there's not.
Here is a flask!