thou publish my cunning, and my merry conceits, with all that I have done (when I am dead) in an history: and if thou canst not remember all, thy Spirit Akercocke will help thee: so shall the great acts that I have done be manifested unto the world. CHAPTER LVIII _How Doctor Faustus having but one month of his appointed time to come, fell to mourning and sorrow with himself for his devilish exercise_ Time ran away with Faustus, as the hour-glass, for he had but one month to come of his twenty-four years, at the end whereof he had given himself to the Devil body and soul, as is before specified. Here was the first token, for he was like a taken murderer or a thief, the which findeth himself guilty in conscience before the Judge have given sentence, fearing every hour to die: for he was grieved, and wailing spent the time, went talking to himself, wringing of his hands, sobbing and sighing, he fell away from flesh, and was very lean, and kept himself close: neither could he abide to see or hear of his Mephostophiles any more. CHAPTER LIX _How Doctor Faustus complained that he should in his lusty time and youthful years die so miserably_ This sorrowful time drawing near so troubled Doctor Faustus, that he began to write his mind, to the end he might peruse it often and not forget it, and is in manner as followeth. Ah Faustus, thou sorrowful and woeful man, now must thou go to the damned company in unquenchable fire, whereas thou mightest have had the joyful immortality of the soul, the which thou now hast lost. Ah gross understanding and wilful will, what seizeth on my limbs other than a robbing of my life? Bewail with me my sound and healthful body, wit and soul, bewail with me my senses, for you have had your part and pleasure as well as I. Oh envy and disdain, how have you crept both at once into me, and now for your sakes I must suffer all these torments? Ah whither is pity and mercy fled? Upon what occasion hath heaven repaid me with this reward by sufferance to suffer me to perish? Wherefore was I created a man? The punishment that I see prepared for me of myself now must I suffer. Ah miserable wretch, there is nothing in this world to shew me comfort: then woe is me, what helpeth my wailing. CHAPTER LX _Another complaint of Doctor Faustus_