Mephistopheles

Thou shouldst not find it so annoying, Without return to be enjoying. Now, while the sky leads forth its starry throng, Thou’lt hear a masterpiece, no work completer: I’ll sing her, first, a moral song, The surer, afterwards, to cheat her.

(Sings to the cither.)

What dost thou here In daybreak clear, Kathrina dear, Before thy lover’s door? Beware! the blade Lets in a maid. That out a maid Departeth nevermore!

The coaxing shun Of such an one! When once ’tis done Good-night to thee, poor thing! Love’s time is brief: Unto no thief Be warm and lief, But with the wedding-ring!

VALENTINE (comes forward)

Whom wilt thou lure? God’s-element! Rat-catching piper, thou!—perdition! To the Devil, first, the instrument! To the Devil, then, the curst musician!