Now tell me what saith Lucifer, thy lord? MEPHIST. That I shall wait on Faustus whilst he lives, So he will buy my service with his soul. FAUSTUS. Already Faustus hath hazarded that for thee. MEPHIST. But now thou must bequeath it solemnly, And write a deed of gift with thine own blood; For that security craves Lucifer. If thou deny it, I must back to hell. FAUSTUS. Stay, Mephistophilis, and tell me, what good will my soul do thy lord? MEPHIST. Enlarge his kingdom. FAUSTUS. Is that the reason why he tempts us thus? MEPHIST. Solamen miseris socios habuisse doloris. FAUSTUS. Why, have you any pain that torture others? MEPHIST. As great as have the human souls of men. But, tell me, Faustus, shall I have thy soul? And I will be thy slave, and wait on thee, And give thee more than thou hast wit to ask. FAUSTUS. Ay, Mephistophilis, I'll give it thee. [49] MEPHIST. Then, Faustus, stab thine [50] arm courageously, And bind thy soul, that at some certain day Great Lucifer may claim it as his own; And [51] then be thou as great as Lucifer. FAUSTUS. [Stabbing his arm] Lo, Mephistophilis, for love of thee, Faustus hath cut his arm, and with his proper blood Assures his soul to be great Lucifer's, Chief lord and regent of perpetual night! View here this blood that trickles from mine arm, And let it be propitious for my [52] wish. MEPHIST. But, Faustus, Write it in manner of a deed of gift. FAUSTUS. [Writing] Ay, so I do. But, Mephistophilis, My blood congeals, and I can write no more. MEPHIST. I'll fetch thee fire to dissolve it straight. [Exit.] FAUSTUS. What might the staying of my blood portend? Is it [53] unwilling I should write this bill? Why streams it not, that I may write afresh? FAUSTUS GIVES TO THEE HIS SOUL: O, there it stay'd! Why shouldst thou not? is not thy soul thine own? Then write again, FAUSTUS GIVES TO THEE HIS SOUL. [54] Re-enter MEPHISTOPHILIS with the chafer of fire. MEPHIST. See, Faustus, here is fire; set it on. FAUSTUS. So, now the blood begins to clear again; Now will I make an [55] end immediately. [Writes.] MEPHIST. What will not I do to obtain his soul? [Aside.] FAUSTUS. Consummatum est; this bill is ended, And Faustus hath bequeath'd his soul to Lucifer. But what is this inscription on mine arm? Homo, fuge: whither should [56] I fly? If unto God, [57] he'll throw me down to hell. My senses are deceiv'd; here's nothing writ:-- O, yes, I see it plain; even here is writ, Homo, fuge: yet shall not Faustus fly. MEPHIST. I'll fetch him somewhat to delight his mind. [Aside, and then exit.] Enter DEVILS, giving crowns and rich apparel to FAUSTUS. They dance, and then depart.