[She plunges the ladle into the kettle, and spurts out flame on Faust, Mephistopheles, and the Brutes. These last whine.
Mephistopheles. [Who, in the meantime, had turned round the butt-end of the brush, now dashes in amongst the pots and glasses.]
In two! in two!
There lies the broth!
The glass and the kettle,
Shiver them both!
’Tis a jest, thou must know,
Thou carrion crow!
’Tis a tune to keep time,
To thy senseless rhyme.