happiness, Pleasures unspeakable, bliss without end Hadst thou affected sweet divinity, Hell or the devil had had no power on thee:      Hadst thou kept on that way, Faustus, behold,           [Music, while a throne descends.]      In what resplendent glory thou hadst sit 254 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 255 to receive thee.           [Exit. The throne ascends.]       EVIL ANGEL. Now, Faustus, let thine eyes with horror stare           [Hell is discovered.]      Into that vast perpetual torture-house:      There are the Furies tossing damned souls On burning forks; there bodies boil 256 in lead; There are live quarters broiling on the coals, That ne'er can die; this ever-burning chair Is for o'er-tortur'd souls to rest them in; These that are fed with sops of flaming fire, Were gluttons, and lov'd only delicates, And laugh'd to see the poor starve at their gates:      But yet all these are nothing; thou shalt see Ten thousand tortures that more horrid be. FAUSTUS. O, I have seen enough to torture me! EVIL ANGEL. 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 tumble in confusion.           [Exit. Hell disappears.—The clock strikes eleven.]       FAUSTUS. O Faustus, Now hast thou but one bare hour to live, And then thou must be damn'd perpetually! Stand still, you ever-moving spheres of heaven, That time may cease, and midnight never come; Fair Nature's eye, rise, rise again, and make Perpetual day; or let this hour be but A year, a month, a week, a natural day, That Faustus may repent and save his soul! O lente, lente currite, noctis equi! The stars move still, time runs, the clock will strike, The devil will come, and Faustus must be damn'd. O, I'll leap up to heaven!—Who pulls me down?—      See, where Christ's blood streams in the firmament! 257 One drop of blood will save me:  O my Christ!—      Rend not my heart for naming of my Christ; Yet will I call on him:  O, spare me, Lucifer!—      Where is it now? 'tis gone:      And, see, a threatening arm, an 258 angry brow! Mountains and hills, come, come, and fall on me, And hide me from the heavy wrath of heaven! No! Then will I headlong run into the earth:      Gape, earth! O, no, it will not harbour me! You stars that reign'd at my nativity, Whose influence hath 259 allotted death and hell, Now draw up Faustus, like a foggy mist, Into the 

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