07 Dec




















More lovely than the monarch of the sky In wanton Arethusa's azur'd [242] arms; And none but thou shalt [243] be my paramour! [Exeunt.] Thunder. Enter LUCIFER, BELZEBUB, and MEPHISTOPHILIS. LUCIFER. Thus from infernal Dis do we ascend To view the subjects of our monarchy, Those souls which sin seals the black sons of hell; 'Mong which, as chief, Faustus, we come to thee, Bringing with us lasting damnation To wait upon thy soul: the time is come Which makes it forfeit. MEPHIST. And, this gloomy night, Here, in this room, will wretched Faustus be. BELZEBUB. And here we'll stay, To mark him how he doth demean himself. MEPHIST. How should he but in desperate lunacy? Fond worldling, now his heart-blood dries with grief; His conscience kills it; and his [244] labouring brain Begets a world of idle fantasies To over-reach the devil; but all in vain; His store of pleasures must be sauc'd with pain. He and his servant Wagner are at hand; Both come from drawing Faustus' latest will. See, where they come! Enter FAUSTUS and WAGNER. FAUSTUS. Say, Wagner,--thou hast perus'd my will,--

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