Margaret. How! giv'st thou me no kiss? My friend, so very short a space away, And hast forgot to kiss? Why feel I now so straitened when I hold Thee in my arms? It was not so of old, When from thy words and looks, a heaven of bliss Came down; and thou didst kiss As thou would'st smother me. Come, kiss me! kiss! Else kiss I thee! [_She embraces him._] O woe! thy lips are cold, Are dumb; Where is the love thy swelling bosom bore Whilome for me? why are thy lips so cold? [_She turns away from him._ Faust. Come with me, sweet love, come! I'll hug thee ten times closer than before, Only come with me now! Come, I implore! Margaret. [_turning to him_] Art thou then _he_? Art thou then truly _he_? Faust. 'Tis I, in truth. Come, love, and follow me. Margaret. And these vile chains thou breakest, And me again unto thy bosom takest? How canst thou dare to turn fond eyes on me? Know'st thou then, Henry, whom thou com'st to free? Faust. Come, come! the night sinks fast; come, follow me! Margaret. My mother slept a sleep profound! I drugged her to't; My little babe I drowned! Was it not heaven's boon to me and thee? Thee, too!--'tis thou! I scarce may deem My sense speaks true. Give me thy hand! It is no dream! Thy dear, dear hand! Alas! but it is wet! Wipe it; for it is wet With blood! O God! what hast thou done? Put up thy sword; I pray thee put it up. Faust. Let gone be gone! Thou stabbest me with daggers, every word. Margaret. No! thou shalt survive our sorrow! I will describe the graves to thee, Where thou shalt bury them and me To-morrow. The best place thou shalt give my mother; Close beside her lay my brother; Me a little to the side, But at distance not too wide! And my child at my right breast.-- These, and none else with us shall rest! Me on thy loving side to press, That was a heaven of blessedness! But now, I cannot do it more; I feel as I must force my love to thee, And thou didst coldly fling me back from thee; And yet 'tis thou!--as good, as loving as before. Faust. 'Tis I, even I, come, sweet love, come! Margaret. Out there? Faust. Into the open air. Margaret. If the grave be there, And death there waits, then come! Hence to my eternal home, Not a step more.-- Thou leav'st me now?--would I might go with thee? Faust. Thou canst, if thou but wilt. I have unbarred the door. Margaret. I may not go; no hope for me remains; They watch me close--my home is with my chains. It is so sad to beg from door to door; A guilty thing from human loves outcast, A homeless earth to wander o'er; And they are sure to find me out at last. Faust. I will protect thee.