A year before. She fled from me, and I,
In a mad frenzy, born of shattered hopes,
Gave up the world, and sought forgetfulness
In the cold cloisters of a monastery.
For twelve long months, twelve weary, weary months,
I strove to keep my ill-considered vows,
Till, wearying of the sacrilegious lie,
I broke my bonds, and cast my priesthood from me.
Gret. (aghast). Faustus! thou art a priest? No, no! no, no!
My senses cheat me, or thou mockest me!