Mephistopheles. Then ring and ear-ring, and necklace, and casket, Like a bundle of toad-stools away he bore; Thanked her no less, and thanked her no more, Than had it been so many nuts in a basket; On heavenly treasures then held an oration, Much, of course, to their edification. Faust. And Margaret? Mephistopheles. Sits now in restless mood, Knows neither what she would, nor what she should; Broods o'er the trinkets night and day, And on him who sent them, more. Faust. Sweet love! her grief doth vex me sore. Mephisto, mark well what I say! Get her another set straightway! The first were not so very fine. Mephistopheles. O yes! with you all things are mere child's play. Faust. Quick hence! and match your will with mine! Throw thee oft in her neighbor's way. Be not a devil of milk and water, And for another gift go cater. Mephistopheles. Yes, gracious sir! most humbly I obey. [_Exit_ /Faust/. Mephistopheles. Such love-sick fools as these would blow Sun, moon, and stars, like vilest stuff, To nothing with a single puff, To make their lady-love a show! Scene VII. /Martha's/ _House._ Martha. [_alone_] In honest truth, it was not nobly done, In my good spouse to leave me here alone! May God forgive him! while he roams at large, O'er the wide world, I live at my own charge. Sure he could have no reason to complain! So good a wife he'll not find soon again. [_She weeps._] He may be dead!--Ah me!--could I but know, By a certificate, that 'tis really so! _Enter_ /Margaret/. Margaret. Martha! Martha. What wouldst thou, dear? Margaret. My knees can scarcely bear me!--only hear! I found a second box to-day Of ebon-wood, just where the first one lay, Brimful of jewels passing rare, Much finer than the others. Martha. Have a care You keep this well masked from your mother-- 'Twould fare no better than the other. Margaret. Only come near, and see! look here! Martha. [_decking her with the jewels_] Thou art a lucky little dear! Margaret. And yet I dare not thus be seen In church, or on the public green. Martha. Just come across when you've an hour to spare, And put the gauds on here with none to see! Then promenade awhile before the mirror there; 'Twill be a joy alike to thee and me. Then on a Sunday, or a holiday, Our riches by degrees we can display. A necklace first, the drops then in your ear; Your mother sees it not; and should she hear, 'Tis easy to invent some fair pretence or other. Margaret. But whence the pretty caskets came? I fear There's something in it not right altogether. [_Knocking._] Good God!--I hear a step--is it my mother? Martha. [_looking through the casement_] 'Tis a strange gentleman. Come in! _Enter_ /Mephistopheles/.