SCENE X.
Faust and Marguerite.
Mar. It groweth late, farewell!
Faust. I but implore in vain. Let me thy hand take, and clasp it, And behold but thy face once again, Illum'd by that pale light, From yonder moon that shines, O'er thy beauteous features shedding Its faint but golden ray.
Mar. Oh, what stillness reigns around, Oh, ineffable mystery! Sweetest, happiest feeling, I list; a secret voice Now seems to fill my heart. Still its tone again resoundeth in my bosom. Leave me awhile, I pray. (Stoops and picks a daisy.)
Faust. What is it thou doest?
Mar. This flower I consult. (She plucks the petals of the daisy.)
Faust (aside). What utters she in tones subdued?