and! roll in malicious rage
thy fiendish eyes! Stand and brave me with thine insupportable
presence! Imprisoned! In hopeless misery! Delivered over to the power
of evil spirits and the judgment of unpitying humanity!--And me, the
while, thou went lulling with tasteless dissipations, concealing from
me her growing anguish, and leaving her to perish without help!

MEPHISTOPHELES

She is not the first.

FAUST

Hound! Execrable monster!--Back with him, oh thou infinite spirit!
back with the reptile into his dog's shape, in which it was his wont
to scamper before me at eventide, to roll before the feet of the
harmless wanderer, and to fasten on his shoulders when he fell! Change
him again into his favorite shape, that he may crouch on his belly
before me in the dust, whilst I spurn him with my foot, the
reprobate!--Not the first!--Woe! Woe! By no human soul is it
conceivable, that more than one human creature has ever sunk into a
depth of wretchedness like this, or that the first in her writhing
death-agony should not have atoned in the sight of all-pardoning
Heaven for the guilt of all the rest! The misery of this one pierces
me to the very marrow, and harrows up my soul; thou art grinning
calmly over the doom of thousands!

MEPHISTOPHELES

Now we are once again at our wit's end, just where the reason of you
mortals snaps! Why dost thou seek our fellowship, if thou canst not go
through with it? Wilt fly, and art not proof against dizziness? Did we
force ourselves on thee, or thou on us?

FAUST

Cease thus to gnash thy ravenous fangs at me! I loathe thee!--Great
and glorious spirit, thou who didst vouchsafe to reveal thyself unto
me, thou who dost know my very heart and soul, why hast thou linked me
with this base associate, who feeds on mischief and revels in
destruction?

MEPHISTOPHELES

Hast done?

FAUST

Save her!--or woe to thee! The direst of curses on thee for thousands
of years!

MEPHISTOPHELES

I cannot loose the bands of the avenger, nor withdraw his bolts.--Save
her!--Who was it plunged her into perdition? I or thou?

FAUST (_looks wildly around_)

MEPHISTOPHELES

Would'st grasp the thunder? Well for you, poor mortals, that 'tis not
yours to wield! To smite to atoms the being, however innocent, who
obstructs his path, such is the tyrant's fashion of relieving himself
in difficulties!

FAUST

Convey me thither! She shall be free!

MEPHISTOPHELES

And the danger to which thou dost e