What seest thou? A pure and blameless child, Trustful as innocence--her gentle soul, Calm as a lake in heaven--her angel face, God’s work, Untainted by man’s desecrating touch! And, at her side, A scheming mummer, tricked in godly garb-- His tongue all plausible, his heart all false-- His lying manhood traitor to itself! Faustus, mine enemy, I know thee now! Faustus, mine enemy, I know thee now! _Meph._ Shake off thy Churchman’s qualms. Thou art a man, Wast once a soldier ere thou wast a priest. Has monkish milk so curdled the hot blood That bore thee ever where the fight was thickest, That this raw girl--this butter-churning doll, Hath turned thee chicken-hearted? _Faus._ Hold thy peace, Accursed fiend, nor dare to breathe _her_ name. Deal thou with me--let Heaven deal with heaven, I go from her--God shield her from all harm! _Meph._ Hush, not so loud, she’ll hear you. See, she comes! [_GRETCHEN appears at back, picking petals from a daisy as she advances._ _Gret._ He loves me--he loves me not! He loves me--he loves me not! _Meph._ (_aside to FAUSTUS_). Too late, too late! her heart is given to thee; Her love is not as other women’s love. Take thyself hence and she will surely die! [_FAUSTUS watches her, entranced._ _Gret._ (_with increased anxiety_). He loves me--he loves me not! He loves me--he loves me not! _Meph._ See how she trembles as the petals fall. Poor child, poor child! She trusts her simple charm, and should it fail, Her heart will break! Have pity on her, Faustus! _Gret._ He loves me--he loves me not! He loves me--he loves me not! (_She picks the last petal._) Oh, Heaven, have mercy! _Faus._ (_breaking from MEPHISTO, and rushing to her_). Gretchen, dearly loved! Mistrust thy charm! By Heaven that hears me now, He loves thee, Gretchen! loves thee, loves thee, loves thee! [_GRETCHEN gives a cry of joy and surprise, then falls weeping on his neck. MEPHISTO at back, laughing cynically._ ACT III. SCENE.--_A market-place in a German town. Entrance to church on right of stage. A stone cross on the left._ _BESSIE, BARBARA, and AGATHA discovered, conversing. Three months have elapsed._ _Aga._ Gottfried returned! _Bess._ Ay, and a captain, too; All steel and gold! I hear the people say That in the ranks of those who fought and bled, No braver soldier lives! _Bar._ (_maliciously_). Alas, poor Gottfried! _Bess._ Poor Gottfried! To have gained such poverty I’d given ten years--ay, though it made me thirty! _Bar._ Fool! He is head and ears in love with Gretchen! There’s but a bitter time in store for him. _Bess._ Ah, ’tis a sorry thing this love!