MARGARET
I feel it, you but spare my ignorance,
The gentleman to blame me stoops thus low.
[Illustration: FAUST AND MARGARET From the Painting by Carl Becker]
A traveler from complaisance
Still makes the best of things; I know
Too well, my humble prattle never can
Have power to entertain so wise a man.
FAUST
One glance, one word from thee doth charm me more
Than the world's wisdom or the sage's lore.
[He kisses her hand.]
MARGARET
Nay! trouble not yourself! A hand so coarse,
So rude as mine, how can you kiss!
What constant work at home must I not do perforce!
My mother too exacting is.
[They pass on.]