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!
