Faust. Marguerite!
Mar. Now am I free. He is here. It is his voice. Yes, thou art he whom I love. Fetters, death, have no terrors for me; Thou hast found me. Thou hast returned. Now am I saved! Now rest I on thy heart!
Faust. Yes, I am here, and I love thee, In spite of the efforts of yon mocking demon.
(Faust attempts to draw her with him.) (She gently disengages herself from his arms.)
Mar. Stay! this is the spot Where one day thou didst meet me. Thine hand sought mine to clasp. "Will you not permit me, my fairest demoiselle, To offer you my arm, and clear for you the way?" "No, sir. I am no demoiselle, neither am I fair; And I have no need to accept your offered arm."
Faust. What is't she says? Ah me! Ah me!
Mar. And the garden I love is here, Odorous of myrtle and roses, Where every eve thou camest in With careful step, as night was falling.
Faust. Come, Marguerite, let us fly!
Mar. No! stay a moment!
Faust. O heav'n, she does not understand!