Spirit

Thou'rt like the spirit, thou dost comprehend, Not me! (Vanishes.)

FAUST (deeply moved)

I, God's own image! And not rank with thee! (A knock.) Oh death! I know it--'tis my famulus-- My fairest fortune now escapes! That all these visionary shapes A soulless groveller should banish thus! (WAGNER in his dressing gown and night-cap, a lamp in his hand. FAUST turns round reluctantly.)