Part 51

Wait a while!

(She plucks a star-flower, and pulls off the leaves, one after the other.)

FAUST

Shall that a nosegay be?

MARGARET

No, it is just in play.

FAUST

How?

MARGARET

Go! you’ll laugh at me. (She pulls off the leaves and murmurs.)

FAUST

What murmurest thou?

MARGARET (half aloud)

He loves me—loves me not.

FAUST

Thou sweet, angelic soul!

MARGARET (continues)

Loves me—not—loves me—not— (plucking the last leaf, she cries with frank delight:)

He loves me!

FAUST

Yes, child! and let this blossom-word For thee be speech divine! He loves thee! Ah, know’st thou what it means? He loves thee!

(He grasps both her hands.)

MARGARET

I’m all a-tremble!

FAUST

O tremble not! but let this look, Let this warm clasp of hands declare thee What is unspeakable! To yield one wholly, and to feel a rapture In yielding, that must be eternal! Eternal!—for the end would be despair. No, no,—no ending! no ending!

MARTHA (coming forward)

The night is falling.