And witches that all topsy-turvy are turning!—
Hold fast by me, or I shall lose you quite,
Where are you?
Faust. [at a distance]
Here!
Mephistopheles.
What! so far in the rear!
Why then ’tis time that I should use my right,
As master of the house to-night.
Make way! Squire Voland comes,[n12] sweet mob, make way!