Faus. Thy time will come!
Gret.Perhaps!
Faus.Give me thy hand—
I’ll read thy fortune, Gretchen.
Gret.Wonderful!
Canst thou read fortunes? (Giving her hand.)
Faus. Ay, indifferent well. (Playing with her hand.)
Gret. Speak, sir; I listen.
Faus. (still playing with her hand). ’Tis a soft white hand!
Gret. (demurely). My fortune, sir.