_Gott._ Then strip thy monkish frock, and take thy guard. Strip off thy frock, I say--or does it cling More closely to thy limbs than heretofore? Time was when thou couldst cast thy slough at will. Has that time gone? or does thy craven heart Seek sanctuary in a Churchman’s garb? [_Involuntarily FAUSTUS grasps sword on table._ Despair thy hope--the rag will serve thee not. Monk or no monk, as Heaven defends the right, To-night thou diest! so arm and take thy guard! _Faus._ (_after a pause throws down sword_). Gottfried, I’ll fight thee not. Thy cause is just. I am a blot upon the fruitful world. Away with me! I have no claim to live! _Gott._ Defend thy life! Base as thy soul has shown, I would not be thine executioner; Yet, by the rood, defence or no defence, I will fulfil my mission. Take thy sword! I know no mercy when I war with hell! _Faus._ (_passionately_). Strike, Gottfried, strike! In the good days gone by Thy loving hand was ever on the stretch To aid me with a hundred offices, The least of which should knit my heart to thine As brother’s heart to brother. Crown thy work _Enter GRETCHEN; she stands horrified._ With this the kindliest of thy kindly deeds! (_Tearing open his gown._) Comrade in arms--brother in all but blood-- Here is my heart--kill the accursed thing, It eats my flesh! Strike surely and strike deep! _Gott._ So be it then! Thine hour has come! Good sword, That never yet shed undefended blood, I pray thy pardon for the infamy I place upon thee! [_GOTTFRIED is about to strike. GRETCHEN staggers forward and places herself before FAUSTUS, with her arms extended to protect him._ _Gret._ Gottfried! stay thy hand, Or slay me with him! Oh, for shame, for shame! Is this thy love for me? He is to me As I to thee, and wouldst thou prove thy love By slaying him to whom my heart is given? Gottfried! I place thy brotherhood upon the test, And by that test, so shall it stand or fall. If it be free from the base taint of earth, As I believe it, from my heart, to be, It will arise unshaken from the proof. If it be as the love of other men, Slay him--and me! (_Kneeling to him._) My brother--oh, my brother! I know thy love--this is its counterfeit; I know thy love--thou wouldst lay down thy life To add one hour to mine. Thou wouldst not rob The few brief hours that yet are left to me! Thou seest, I know thy love! Oh, brother, brother, Be strong in mercy! Is his wrong to thee Less than his wrong to me?--and I forgive him! May Heaven have pity on my woman’s heart-- I love this man!