[Exit.]
FAUSTUS. 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 stay'd!
Why shouldst thou not? is not thy soul shine own?
Then write again, FAUSTUS GIVES TO THEE HIS SOUL.
Re-enter MEPHISTOPHILIS with a chafer of coals.
MEPHIST. Here's fire; come, Faustus, set it on.
FAUSTUS. So, now the blood begins to clear again;
Now will I make an end immediately.
[Writes.]
MEPHIST. O, what will not I do to obtain his soul?
[Aside.]
FAUSTUS. Consummatum est; this bill is ended,
And Faustus hath bequeath'd 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 deceiv'd; here's nothing writ:--
I see it plain; here in this place is writ,
Homo, fuge: yet shall not Faustus fly.
MEPHIST. I'll fetch him somewhat to delight his mind.
[Aside, and then exit.]
Re-enter MEPHISTOPHILIS with DEVILS, who give crowns
and rich apparel to FAUSTUS, dance, and then depart.
FAUSTUS. Speak, Mephistophilis, what means this show?
MEPHIST. Nothing, Faustus, but to delight thy mind withal,
And to shew thee what magic can perform.
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