Hadst thou affected sweet divinity, Hell or the devil had had no power on thee: Hadst thou kept on that way, Faustus, behold In what resplendent glory thou hadst set In yonder throne, like those bright shining saints, And triumph'd over hell; that hast thou lost: And now (poor soul!) must thy good angel leave thee; The jaws of hell are open to receive thee. [Exit. (Hell is discovered.) Bad Ang. Now, Faustus, let thine eyes with horror stare Into that vast perpetual torture-house : Faust. Oh! I have seen enough to torture me! Bad Ang. Nay, thou must feel them, taste the smart of all; He that loves pleasure, must for pleasure fall: And so I leave thee, Faustus, till anon; Then wilt thou tremble in confusion. (The clock strikes eleven.) Faust. Oh, Faustus! Now hast thou but one bare hour to live, [Exit. And then thou must be damn'd perpetually. Stand still you ever-moving spheres of heav'n, That Faustus may repent and save his soul. The stars move still, time runs, the clock will strike, The devil will come, and Faustus must be damn'd. Oh, I'll leap up to heav'n !-Who pulls me down? See where Christ's blood streams in the firma ment*: One drop of blood will save me: oh, my Christ! Rend not my heart for naming of my Christ; Yet will I call on him. Oh, spare me, Lucifer!-- Where is it now?-'tis gone! And see, a threatening arm, an angry brow. (The watch strikes.) ; Oh! half the hour is past: 'twill all be past anon. *This whole line is omitted in the edit. 1616. Oh! if my soul must suffer for my sin, Why wert thou not a creature wanting soul? Oh! Pythagoras, Metemsycosis! were that true, All beasts are happy, for when they die ་ It strikes, it strikes! now, body, turn to air, (Thunder.) Enter the DEVILS. Oh! mercy, heav'n, look not so fierce on me! Enter the SCHOLARS. 1 Scho. Come, gentlemen, let us go visit Faustus, For such a dreadful night was never seen Since first the world's creation did begin; Such fearful shrieks and cries were never heard; Pray heaven the Doctor have escap'd the danger. 2 Scho. Oh, help us, heavens! see, here are Faustus' limbs, All torn asunder by the hand of death. 3 Scho. The devils whom Faustus serv'd have torn him thus; For twixt the hours of twelve and one, methought As every christian heart laments to think on; For wondrous knowledge in our German schools, And all the students, clothed in mourning black, Shall wait upon his heavy funeral. [Exeunt. Enter CHORUS. Cut is the branch that might have grown full straight, And burned is Apollo's laurel bough, That sometime grew within this learned man : Whose fiendful fortune may exhort the wise, Whose deepness doth entice such forward wits, Terminat hora diem, terminat Author opus. WHITTINGHAM and ROWLAND, Printers, Goswell Street, London. |