I feel it well, ’tis from pure condescension
You pay to one like me so much attention.
With travellers ’tis a thing of course,
To be contented with the best they find;
For sure a man of cultivated mind
Can have small pleasure in my poor discourse.
Faust.
One look from thee, one word, delights me more
Than all the world’s high-vaunted lore.
[He kisses her hand.