_Faust_. Thus, with the ever-working power
Of good dost thou in strife persist,
And in vain malice, to this hour,
Clenchest thy cold and devilish fist!
Go try some other occupation,
Singular son of Chaos, thou!

_Mephistopheles_. We'll give the thing consideration,
When next we meet again! But now
Might I for once, with leave retire?

_Faust_. Why thou shouldst ask I do not see.
Now that I know thee, when desire
Shall prompt thee, freely visit me.
Window and door give free admission.
At least there's left the chimney flue.

_Mephistopheles_. Let me confess there's one small prohibition

Lies on thy threshold, 'gainst my walking through,
The wizard-foot--[15]

_Faust_. Does that delay thee?
The Pentagram disturbs thee? Now,
Come tell me, son of hell, I pray thee,
If that spell-binds thee, then how enteredst thou?
_Thou_ shouldst proceed more circumspectly!

_Mephistopheles_. Mark well! the figure is not drawn correctly;
One of the angles, 'tis the outer one,