Mephistopheles. Time flies, I don't offend you?
Martha [entering]. Yes, sir, 'tis growing late.
Faust. May I not now attend you?
Margaret. Mother would—Fare thee well!
Faust. And must I leave thee then? Farewell!
Martha. Adé!
Margaret. Till, soon, we meet again!
[Exeunt FAUST and MEPHISTOPHELES.]
Margaret. Good heavens! what such a man's one brain
Can in itself alone contain!
I blush my rudeness to confess,
And answer all he says with yes.
Am a poor, ignorant child, don't see
What he can possibly find in me.
[Exit.]