Sometimes she will be merry, mostly sad,
Now, like a child, weeping her sorrows out,
Now calm again to look at, never glad;
Always in love.
Faust.
Thou snake! thou snake!
Mephistopheles. [to himself]
So be it! that my guile thy stubborn will may break!
Faust.
Hence and begone, thou son of filth and fire!