And she with me be ruined in the end!

Mephistopheles.

Lo! how it boils again and blows

Like furnace, wherefore no man knows.

Go in, thou fool, and let her borrow

From thee, sweet solace to her sorrow!

When such a brainsick dreamer sees

No road, where he to walk may please,

He stands and stares like Balaam’s ass,

As if a god did block the pass.