GRETCHEN. O stay!... I am so happy at thy side.... What! not one kiss!... Ah, woe, thy lips are cold. Where is all thy love? Who has stolen it from me? FAUST. Come! Follow!... Be courageous, loved one! Come with me! GRETCHEN. Thou art loosening my chain.... Know'st thou, my friend, _whom_ thou art releasing? FAUST. Come, come! Night is already on the wane. GRETCHEN. My mother I have killed. I have drowned my child. Was it not given to thee and to me? Yes, to thee too.... And thou art really here! Thou! I can scarce believe it. Give me thy hand--thy dear hand! _Ah_, but it is wet. Wipe it, wipe it! It looks like blood upon it. O God, what hast thou done! Put up thy sword, I beg thee! Put it away! FAUST. Let the past be past. Thou art killing me. GRETCHEN. No--_thou_ must live!... I will tell thee about the graves that thou must provide to-morrow. Give mother the best place, and brother close to her--and me a little on one side ... only not too far away. And lay the little one in my bosom.... No one else shall lie with me. To cling to thy side, that was once such sweet blissful joy ... but I seem no longer able ... as if I had to force myself, and as if thou didst thrust me back.... And yet it _is_ thou, and thou look'st so kind and good. FAUST. If thou feel'st that it is I, then come! GRETCHEN. Out _there_? FAUST. To freedom! GRETCHEN. I dare not. For me there is no hope more. What is the use to flee? They are lurking after me.... It's so wretched to have to beg, and that too with a bad conscience. It's so wretched to wander about in strange lands ... and they'll catch me all the same. FAUST. I shall be with thee. GRETCHEN. _Quick! Quick!_ Save it! Save my child!... Onward! Right up that path alongside the stream ... over the bridge ... there!... into the wood.... There! to the left! there, where the plank lies--in the pond! Catch hold of it! Catch it! It's rising!... It's struggling! Save it! save it! FAUST. Bethink thyself! One step and thou art free! GRETCHEN. If only we were over that hill!... There's mother sitting there on a stone. (Ah! what was that, like an icy hand, grasping my hair?) ... She sits and wags with her head--she does not beckon or nod to us ... her head droops so heavily. Yes, she slept so long, and she will wake no more. She slept that we might have joy. Ah, those were happy times! FAUST. No entreaty avails--no words are of use. I shall have to carry thee away. [_Seizes hold of her._ GRETCHEN. _Let me go!_ I will not suffer violence. Seize not hold of me so murderously. All _else_ I did for _love_ of thee. FAUST. The day is dawning! Dearest! dearest!