Thee,  tall  one,  as  enticing  I  '11  admit  thee ;
The  priestly  mien  does  not  at  all  befit  thee,
So  look  at  me  the  least  bit  wantonly  !
You  might  be  nakeder,  and  modest  made  so :
Your  shirts'  long  drapery  is  over-moral.  —
They  turn !  —  and,  from  the  rear  surveyed  so,
With  their  attraction  there  's  no  need  to  quarrel !


ACT  V.  303

CHORUS  OF  ANGELS.
Love  still  revealing,
Flames,  become  clearer !
All,  cursed  with  error,  '
Truth  be  their  healing  !
Glad  self-retrieval
Free  them  from  Evil,
In  the  all-folding  Breast,
Blessed,  to  rest !

MEPHISTOPHELES   (collecting  himself).
How  is  't  with  me? —  Like  Job,  the  boils  have  cleft  me
From  head  to  foot,  so  that  myself  I  shun ;
Yet  triumph  also,  when  my  self-inspection  's  done,  —
When  self  and  tribe  I  have  confided  in.
The  noble  Devil-parts,  at  least,  are  left  me  !         '
This  love-attack 's  a  rash  upon  the  skin.   /
Burned  out  already  are  the  scurvy  fires.
And  one  and  all  I  damn  you,  as  the  case  requires !     y

CHORUS   OF   ANGELS.'"

Hallowed  glories  !
Round  whom  they  brood,
Wakes  unto  being
Of  bliss  with  the  Good.
Join  ye,  the  Glorified,
Rise  to  your  goal !
Airs  are  all  purified,  —
Breathe  now  the  Soul !
( Tliey  risCi  bearing  away  the  immortal  part  of  Faust.  )

MEPHISTOPHELES  (looking  around  him).
But  how  ?  —  at  once  I  find  them  failing  !
This  race  of  minors  takes  me  by  surprise  !


3°4


FAUST.
4


They  with  their  booty  heavenwards  are  sailing  ;^
Thence  on  this  grave  Jhey  cast  their  greedy  eyes !
My  rare,  great  treasure  they  have  peculated :
The  lofty  soul,  to  me  hypothecated,
They  've  rapt  away  from  me  in  cunning  wise.
