Devil. Brother, you are a rogue.
Hermit. The reproaches of the sinful world are what the just man ought to expect.
Devil. Why do you not look upwards, and why do you blush? But know, that I have the art of reading in a man’s face what is passing in his heart.
Hermit. So much the worse for yourself. You will have little enjoyment in company.
Devil. Ho, ho! you know that? (Looking at Faustus.)
Hermit. It is a vile world in which we live, and woe for you if thousands did not hasten into solitude to avert by their prayers the anger of incensed Heaven from the heads of sinners.
Faustus. Reverend brother, you own yourself that you are paid for your prayers; and, believe me, it is much easier to pray than work.
Devil. Listen once more. You have a twist of the mouth which tells me you are a hypocrite; and your eyes, which revolve in so narrow a circle, and which are generally cast downward, tell me that you are convinced they would betray the feelings of your heart, were you to raise them.
The hermit lifted his eyes towards the heavens,
prayed with clasped hands, and said, “Thus does the righteous man reply to the scoffer.”