1. 2. Fu. Algripe.
Ju. What are you?
1. We are hellhounds, hellhounds, that have commission
From the Prince of darkness,
To fetch thy black soul to him.
Ju. Am I not alive still?
1. Thou art, but we have brought thee instruments
Will quickly rid thy miserable life, Stabb.
2. Poyson.
1. Hang thy self, this choice is offer'd.
2. Thou canst not hope for heaven; thy base soul is
Lost to all hope of mercy.
[1.] Quickly, quickly,
The torments cool.
[2.] And all [the Fiends] expect thee.
Come with us to that pit of endless horror,
Or we will force thee.