Think'st thou that I, who saw the face of God, And tasted the eternal joys of heaven, Am not tormented with ten thousand hells, In being depriv'd of everlasting bliss? O, Faustus, leave these frivolous demands, Which strike a terror to my fainting soul! FAUSTUS. What, is great Mephistophilis so passionate For being deprived of the joys of heaven? Learn thou of Faustus manly fortitude, And scorn those joys thou never shalt possess. Go bear these58 tidings to great Lucifer:      Seeing Faustus hath incurr'd eternal death By desperate thoughts against Jove's59 deity, Say, he surrenders up to him his soul, So he will spare him four and twenty60 years, Letting him live in all voluptuousness; Having thee ever to attend on me, To give me whatsoever I shall ask, To tell me whatsoever I demand, To slay mine enemies, and aid my friends, And always be obedient to my will. Go and return to mighty Lucifer, And meet me in my study at midnight, And then resolve61 me of thy master's mind. MEPHIST. I will, Faustus.           [Exit.]       FAUSTUS. Had I as many souls as there be stars, I'd give them all for Mephistophilis. By him I'll be great emperor of the world, And make a bridge thorough62 the moving air, To pass the ocean with a band of men; I'll join the hills that bind the Afric shore, And make that country63 continent to Spain, And both contributory to my crown:      The Emperor shall not live but by my leave, Nor any potentate of Germany. Now that I have obtain'd what I desir'd,64 I'll live in speculation of this art, Till Mephistophilis return again.           [Exit.]            Enter WAGNER65 and CLOWN. WAGNER. Sirrah boy, come hither. CLOWN. How, boy! swowns, boy! I hope you have seen many boys with such pickadevaunts66 as I have:  boy, quotha! WAGNER. Tell me, sirrah, hast thou any comings in? CLOWN. Ay, and goings out too; you may see else. WAGNER. Alas, poor slave! see how poverty jesteth in his nakedness! the villain is bare and out of service, and so hungry, that I know he would give his soul to the devil for a shoulder of mutton, though it were blood-raw. CLOWN. How! my soul to the devil for a shoulder of mutton, though      'twere blood-raw! not so, good friend:  by'r lady,67 I had need have it well roasted, and good sauce to it, if I pay so dear. WAGNER. Well, wilt thou serve me, and I'll make thee go like Qui mihi discipulus?68 CLOWN. How, in verse? WAGNER. No, sirrah; in beaten silk and staves-acre.69 CLOWN. How, how, knaves-acre! ay, I thought that was all the land his father 

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