Mephistopheles monologue (Act 7) — Faust: A Tragedy

[_aside_] I'm weary of this dry pedantic strain, 'Tis time to play the genuine devil again. [_Aloud._] The spirit of Medicine 'tis not hard to seize: The world, both great and small, you seek to know, That in the end you may let all things go As God shall please. In vain you range around with scientific eyes, Each one at length learns only what he can; But he who knows the passing hour to prize, That is the proper man. A goodly shape and mien you vaunt, And confidence, I guess, is not your want, Trust but yourself, and, without more ado, All other men will straightway trust you too. But chiefly be intent to get a hold O' the women's minds: their endless Oh! and Ah! So thousandfold, In all its change, obeys a single law, And, if with half a modest air you come, You have them all beneath your thumb. A title first must purchase their reliance, That you have skill surpassing vulgar science; Thus have you hold at once of all the seven ends, Round which another year of labor spends. Study to press the pulse right tenderly, And, with a sly and fiery eye, To hold her freely round the slender waist, That you may see how tightly she is laced.