God hath refused me: wilt thou do it for me?
Or shall I end with both? remake myself?

Now that is the one thing which I cannot do.
Am I not open with thee? why choose that?

Because I will it. Thou art bound to obey.

The world bears marks of my obedience.

Off! I am torn to pieces. Let me try
And gather up myself into a man,
As once I was. I have done with thee! Dost hear?

Thou canst not mean this.

Once for all⁠—I do.

It is men who are deceivers⁠—not the Devil.
The first and worst of all frauds is to cheat
Oneself. All sin is easy after that.

I feel that we must part: part now or never;
And I had rather of the two it were now.

This is my last walk through my favourite world:
And I had hoped to have enjoyed it with thee.
For thee I quitted Hell; for thee I warped
And shrivelled up my soul into a man:
For thee I shed my shining wings; for thee
Put on this mask of flesh, this mockery
Of motion, and this seeming shape like thine.
And by my woe, I swear that were I now,
For thy false heart, to give my spirit spring,
I would scatter soul and body both to Hell,
And let one burn the other.

If thou darest!
Lift but the finger of a thought of ill
Against me, and⁠—thou durst not. Mark, we part.

Well; as thou wilt. Remember that thy heart
Will shed its pleasures as thine eye its tears;
And both leave loathsome furrows.

Thinkest thou
That I will have no pleasures without thee,
Who marrest all thou makest and even more?

Thou canst not; save indeed some poor trite thing
Called moderation, every one can have;
And modesty, God knows, is suffering.

Now will I prove thee liar for that word,
And that the very vastest out of Hell.
With perfect condemnation I abjure
My soul; my nature doth abhor itself;
I have a soul to spare! Goes.

A hundred, I.
I have him yet: for he is mine to tempt.
Gold hath the hue of hell flames: but for him
I will lay some brilliant and delicious lure
Which shall be worth perdition to a seraph.
Most men glide quietly and deeply down:
Some seek the bottom like a cataract.
Now he shall find it, seek it how he will.
None ever went without once taking breath.
It is passion plunges men into mine arms;
But it matters not; Hell burns before them all.
It is by Hell-light they do their chiefest deeds;
And by Hell-light they shine unto each other;
And Hell through life’s thick fog ares red and round;
And but for Hell they would grope in utter dark.