Thou monster, dost not see that this
Pure soul, possessed by ardent love,
Full of the living faith,
To her of bliss
The only pledge, must holy anguish prove,
Holding the man she loves fore-doomed to endless death!
MEPHISTOPHELES
Most sensual, supersensualist! The while
A damsel leads thee by the nose!
FAUST
Of filth and fire abortion vile!
MEPHISTOPHELES
In physiognomy strange skill she shows;
She in my presence feels she knows not how;
My mask it seems a hidden sense reveals;
That I'm a genius she must needs allow,
That I'm the very devil perhaps she feels.
So then tonight—
FAUST
What's that to you?