CHORUS
Us wilt thou capture,
Urge not thy pace;
For it were rapture
Thee to embrace,
Beautiful creature,
This our sole aim!
EUPHORION
Through trees and heather,
Bound all together,
O'er stock and stone!
Whate'er is lightly won,
That I disdain;
What I by force obtain,
Prize I alone.
HELENA and FAUST
What vagaries, sense confounding!
Naught of measure to be hoped for!
Like the blare of trumpet sounding,
Over vale and forest ringing.
What a riot! What a cry!
CHORUS (entering quickly one by one)
Us he passed with glance scorn-laden;
Hastily still onward springing,
Bearing now the wildest maiden
Of our troop, he draweth nigh.
EUPHORION (bearing a young maiden)
I this wilful maid and coy
Carry to enforced caress;
For my pleasure, for my joy
Her resisting bosom press,
Kiss her rebel lips, that so
She my power and will may know.