I have been
Frank with you always. And, if to your taste,
I will be franker still. Your stake is won;
You have your triumph: but does it quite fill
The chambers of your heart? Will it suffice
In place of that bright paradise you dreamed
Might be your gain as loser? Ah, my friend,
In copper you have won, but lost in gold!
And victory will not requite for that
Your empty treasury.
FAUST
Not empty quite;
You are too modest.
SATAN
Oh, if you choose, my pledge
Shall be fulfilled, and I will be your dog—
Snarling a little, sometimes—snapping at
Your friends and furniture and lady-loves—
But yet your dog. However, I can do
Better for you than that....
FAUST
Enough! Enough!
SATAN
But hear me! You'll admit, a feather's weight,
A hair's breadth only held you from the gates
That Oldham entered. Almost they sufficed
Your spirit; yes, a moth's wing could have blown
You toward them! 'Twas so nearly I fulfilled
All that I promised. Therefore when I speak,
You will, for justice's sake, concede I am
No absolute bungler, no coarse-palated
Plebeian, as to paradises.
FAUST