Meph. I'll fetch thee Fire to dissolve it streight. [Exit.
Faust. What might the staying of my Blood portend,
It is unwilling I should write this Bill.
Good and Bad Angel descend.
Good An. Yet, Faustus, think upon thy precious Soul.
Bad An. No, Faustus, think of Honour, and of Wealth.
Faust. Of Wealth. Why all the Indies, Ganges, shall be mine.
Good An. No, Faustus, everlasting Tortures shall be thine.
Bad An. No, Faustus, everlasting Glory shall be thine.
The World shall raise a Statue of thy Name,
And on it write, This, this is he that could command the
World. [Good Angel ascends, bad Angel descends.
Faust. Command the World; Ay, Faustus, think on that,
Why streams not then my Blood that I may write?
Faustus gives to thee his Soul; Oh! there it stops. Why
shouldst thou not? Is not thy Soul thy own?
Enter Mephostopholis with a Chafer of Fire.
Meph. See, Faustus, here is Fire, set it on.