Faus. Poor mocker, hold thy peace—let me go hence,
Back to my cloister, back to the old blank life!
My eyes are open and I see the gulf,
The broad, black gulf, deep as the nether hell,
To which thou leadest me! Release thy grasp—
My heart is changed. Thou hast no hold on me—
Accursed of God—our bond is at an end!
(Breaks from him and rushes into the church.)
Meph. (moving after him, but drawing back at sight of the church).
The blight of hell upon thy head, false priest!