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.]