(He grasps both her hands.)
MARGARET
I’m all a-tremble!
FAUST
O tremble not! but let this look,
Let this warm clasp of hands declare thee
What is unspeakable!
To yield one wholly, and to feel a rapture
In yielding, that must be eternal!
Eternal!—for the end would be despair.
No, no,—no ending! no ending!
MARTHA (coming forward)
The night is falling.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Ay! we must away.
MARTHA