Now, Faustus, must
Thou needs be damned, and canst thou not be saved:
What boots it then to think of God or Heaven?
Away with such vain fancies, and despair:
Despair in God, and trust in Belzebub;
Now go not backward; no, Faustus, be resolute:
Why waver’st thou? O, something soundeth in mine ears
“Abjure this magic, turn to God again!”
Ay, and Faustus will turn to God again.
To God?⁠—he loves thee not⁠—
The god thou serv’st is thine own appetite,
Wherein is fixed the love of Belzebub;
To him I’ll build an altar and a church,
And offer lukewarm blood of newborn babes.

Sweet Faustus, leave that execrable art.

Contrition, prayer, repentance! What of them?

O, they are means to bring thee unto Heaven!

Rather, illusions⁠—fruits of lunacy,
That make men foolish that do trust them most.

Sweet Faustus, think of Heaven, and heavenly things.

No, Faustus, think of honour and of wealth.

Of wealth!
Why the signiory of Embden shall be mine.
When Mephistopheles shall stand by me,
What god can hurt thee? Faustus, thou art safe:
Cast no more doubts. Come, Mephistopheles,
And bring glad tidings from great Lucifer;⁠—
Is’t not midnight? Come, Mephistopheles;
Veni, veni, Mephistophile!

Now tell me, what says Lucifer thy lord?

That I shall wait on Faustus whilst he lives,
So he will buy my service with his soul.

Already Faustus hath hazarded that for thee.

But, Faustus, thou must bequeath it solemnly,
And write a deed of gift with thine own blood,
For that security craves great Lucifer.
If thou deny it, I will back to hell.

Stay, Mephistopheles! and tell me, what good
Will my soul do thy lord.

Enlarge his kingdom.

Is that the reason why he tempts us thus?

Solamen miseris socios habuisse doloris.

Why, have you any pain that torture30 others?

As great as have the human souls of men.
But tell me, Faustus, shall I have thy soul?
And I will be thy slave, and wait on thee,
And give thee more than thou hast wit to ask.

Ay, Mephistopheles, I give it thee.

Then, Faustus, stab thine arm courageously,
And bind thy soul, that at some certain day
Great Lucifer may claim it as his own;
And then be thou as great as Lucifer.

Stabbing his arm. Lo, Mephistopheles, for love of thee,
I cut mine arm, and with my proper blood
Assure my soul to be great Lucifer’s,
Chief lord and regent of perpetual night!
View here the blood that trickles from mine arm,
And let it be propitious for my wish.

But, Faustus, thou must
Write it in manner of a deed of gift.

Ay, so I will. Writes. But, Mephistopheles,
My blood congeals, and I can write no more.

I’ll fetch thee fire to dissolve it straight.

What might the staying of my blood portend?
Is it unwilling I should write this bill?
Why streams it not that I may write afresh?
Faustus gives to thee his soul. Ah, there it stayed!
Why should’st thou not? Is not thy soul shine own?
Then write again, Faustus gives to thee his soul.

Here’s fire. Come, Faustus, set it on.31

So, now the blood begins to clear again;
Now will I make an end immediately. Writes.

O what will not I do to obtain his soul. Aside.

Consummatum est; this bill is ended,
And Faustus hath bequeathed his soul to Lucifer
But what is this inscription on mine arm?
Homo, fuge! Whither should I fly?
If unto God, he’ll throw me down to hell.
My senses are deceived; here’s nothing writ:⁠—
I see it plain; here in this place is writ,
Homo, fuge! Yet shall not Faustus fly.

I’ll fetch him somewhat to delight his mind.

Speak, Mephistopheles, what means this show?

Nothing, Faustus, but to delight thy mind withal,
And to show thee what magic can perform.

But may I raise up spirits when I please?

Ay, Faustus, and do greater things than these.

Then there’s enough for a thousand souls.
Here, Mephistopheles, receive this scroll,
A deed of gift of body and of soul:
But yet conditionally that thou perform
All articles prescribed between us both.

Faustus, I swear by hell and Lucifer
To effect all promises between us made!

Speak, Faustus, do you deliver this as your deed?

Ay, take it, and the Devil give thee good on’t!

Now, Faustus, ask what thou wilt.

First will I question with thee about hell.
Tell me, where is the place that men call hell?

Under the Heavens.

Ay, but whereabout?

Within the bowels of these elements,
Where we are tortured and remain forever:
Hell hath no limits, nor is circumscribed
In one self place; for where we are is hell,
And where hell is, there must we ever be:
And, to conclude, when all the world dissolves,
And every creature shall be purified,
All places shall be hell that are not Heaven.

Come, I think hell’s a fable.

Ay, think so still, till experience change thy mind.

Why, think’st thou, then that Faustus shall be damned?

Ay, of necessity, for here’s the scroll
Wherein thou hast given thy soul to Lucifer.

Ay, and body too; but what of that?
Think’st thou that Faustus is so fond33 to imagine
That, after this life, there is any pain?
Tush; these are trifles, and mere old wives’ tales.

But, Faustus, I am an instance to prove the contrary,
For I am damned, and am now in hell.

How! now in hell?
Nay, an this be hell, I’ll willingly be damned here;
What? walking, disputing, etc.?
But, leaving off this, let me have a wife,
The fairest maid in Germany;
For I am wanton and lascivious,
And cannot live without a wife.

How⁠—a wife?
I prithee, Faustus, talk not of a wife.

Nay, sweet Mephistopheles, fetch me one, for I will have one.

Well⁠—thou wilt have one. Sit there till I come: I’ll fetch thee a wife in the Devil’s name.

Tell me, Faustus, how dost thou like thy wife?

Tut, Faustus,
Marriage is but a ceremonial toy;
If thou lovest me, think no more of it.
I’ll cull thee out the fairest courtesans,
And bring them every morning to thy bed;
She whom thine eye shall like, thy heart shall have,
Be she as chaste as was Penelope,
As wise as Saba,34 or as beautiful
As was bright Lucifer before his fall.
Hold, take this book, peruse it thoroughly: Gives book.
The iterating35 of these lines brings gold;
The framing of this circle on the ground
Brings whirlwinds, tempests, thunder and lightning;
Pronounce this thrice devoutly to thyself,
And men in armour shall appear to thee,
Ready to execute what thou desir’st.

Here they are, in this book. Turns to them.

Here they are too. Turns to them.

Here they be.

Tut, I warrant thee.