MEPHISTOPHELES.
_Mep._ 'Twas high time!
By night, protected,
In earnest talk of love,
They will return! 'Tis well!
I'll not disturb
Their amorous confabulation!
Night, conceal them in thy darkest shade.
Love, from their fond hearts
Shut out all troublesome remorse.
And ye, O flowers of fragrance subtle,
This hand accurs'd
Doth cause ye all to open!
Bewilder the heart of Marguerite!
(Disappears amid the darkness.)
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