[She puts them on and steps before the glass.]
Were but the earrings only mine!
Thus one has quite another air.
What boots it to be young and fair?
It doubtless may be very fine;
But then, alas, none cares for you,
And praise sounds half like pity too.
Gold all doth lure,
Gold doth secure
All things. Alas, we poor!
PROMENADE
FAUST walking thoughtfully up and down. To him MEPHISTOPHELES
MEPHISTOPHELES
By all rejected love! By hellish fire I curse,
Would I knew aught to make my imprecation worse!
FAUST
What aileth thee? what chafes thee now so sore?
A face like that I never saw before!