Faust. His sister!
Mep. (to Valentine) Why this anger? Do ye not like my singing?
Val. Your insults cease! From which of ye must I demand Satisfaction for this foul outrage? Which of ye must I now slay? (Faust draws his sword.) 'Tis he!
Mep. Your mind's made up, then! On, then, doctor, at him, pray!
Val. Oh, heaven, thine aid afford, Increase my strength and courage, That in his blood my sword May wipe out this fell outrage!
Faust. What fear is this unnerves my arm? Why falters now my courage? Dare I to take his life, Who but resents an outrage?
Mep. His wrath and his courage I laugh alike to scorn! To horse, then, for his last journey The youth right soon will take!
Val. (taking in his hand the medallion suspended round his neck). Thou gift of Marguerite, Which till now hath ever saved me, I'll no more of thee—I cast thee hence! Accursed gift, I throw thee from me! (Throws it angrily away.)
Mep. (aside). Thou'll repent it!
Val. (to Faust). Come on, defend thyself!