I see there's virtue in my heavenly words. Who would not be proficient in this art? How pliant is this Mephistophilis, Full of obedience and humility! Such is the force of magic and my spells. Re-enter MEPHISTOPHILIS like a Franciscan friar. MEPHIST. Now, Faustus, what wouldst thou have me do? FAUSTUS. I charge thee wait upon me whilst I live, To do whatever Faustus shall command, Be it to make the moon drop from her sphere, Or the ocean to overwhelm the world. MEPHIST. I am a servant to great Lucifer, And may not follow thee without his leave: No more than he commands must we perform. FAUSTUS. Did not he charge thee to appear to me? MEPHIST. No, I came hither [32] of mine own accord. FAUSTUS. Did not my conjuring speeches [33] raise thee? speak! MEPHIST. That was the cause, but yet per accidens; [34] For, when we hear one rack the name of God, Abjure the Scriptures and his Saviour Christ, We fly, in hope to get his glorious soul; Nor will we come, unless he use such means Whereby he is in danger to be damn'd. Therefore the shortest cut for conjuring Is stoutly to abjure all godliness, And pray devoutly to the prince of hell. FAUSTUS. So Faustus hath Already done; and holds this principle, There is no chief but only Belzebub; To whom Faustus doth dedicate himself. This word "damnation" terrifies not me, For I confound hell in Elysium: My ghost be with the old philosophers! But, leaving these vain trifles of men's souls, Tell me what is that Lucifer thy lord? MEPHIST. Arch-regent and commander of all spirits. FAUSTUS. Was not that Lucifer an angel once? MEPHIST. Yes, Faustus, and most dearly lov'd of God. FAUSTUS. How comes it, then, that he is prince of devils? MEPHIST. O, by aspiring pride and insolence; For which God threw him from the face of heaven. FAUSTUS. And what are you that live with Lucifer? MEPHIST. Unhappy spirits that fell [35] with Lucifer, Conspir'd against our God with Lucifer, And are for ever damn'd with Lucifer. FAUSTUS. Where are you damn'd? MEPHIST. In hell. FAUSTUS. How comes it, then, that thou art out of hell? MEPHIST. Why, this is hell, nor am I out of it: Think'st thou that I, that saw the face of God, And tasted the eternal joys of heaven, Am not tormented with ten thousand hells, In being depriv'd of everlasting bliss? O, Faustus, leave these frivolous demands, Which strike [36] a terror to my fainting soul!