Gott.Ay, the maid of whom I spake.
Faus. Is her name Gretchen?
Gott.Yes—she lives hard by,
With Mistress Martha. Faustus, thou shalt see her,
And join with me in worship at her shrine.
Faus. (confused). I understand—my words have weighed with thee,
And thou hast come to tell her of thy love.
Gott. Not I, indeed; despite thine eloquence,
I’m going from her for a weary while,
Maybe for ever. That will give her sorrow,