Mep. Good. I see where the shoe pinches. You will have glory.
Faust. Still wrong.
Mep. Power, then.
Faust. No. I would have a treasure Which contains all. I wish for youth. Oh! I would have pleasure, And love, and caresses, For youth is the season When joy most impresses. One round of enjoyment, One scene of delight, Should be my employment From day-dawn till night. Oh, I would have pleasure, And love, and caresses; If youth you restore me, My joys I'll renew!
Mep. 'Tis well—all thou desirest I can give thee.
Faust. Ah! but what must I give in return?
Mep. 'Tis but little: In this world I will be thy slave, But down below thou must be mine.
Faust. Below!
Mep. Below. (Unfolding a scroll.) Come, write. What! does thy hand tremble? Whence this dire trepidation? 'Tis youth that now awaits thee—Behold!
(At a sign from Mephistopheles, the scene opens and discloses Marguerite, spinning.)