Poor boy! he’s waited long, nor must depart
Without some friendly word for head and heart;
Come, let me slip into your gown; the mask
Will suit me well; as for the teaching task,
[He puts on Faust’s scholastic robes.]
Leave that to me! I only ask
A quarter of an hour; and you make speed
And have all ready for our journey’s need. [Exit.
Mephistopheles. [solus]
Continue thus to hold at nought