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To all projected or produced-whate'er

Comes into being merits nothing but

Perdition - better then that nothing were

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Brought into being ; — what you men call sin

Destruction in short, evil

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My proper element.

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is my province,

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World that he is of folly, — of himself,

As of a whole, such am not I - I am

Part of a part, which part at first was all,

A part of Darkness who gave birth to Light;
Proud Light, who each day is diminishing
Her mother's rank, confines each day her range,
Yet conquers not, for in the constant strife
Light still must cling to body for existence;

From body streams she she makes body bright;
Body opposes and arrests her beams;

And so, I trust, when body is no more,
Light, too, will share the inevitable doom.

FAUSTUS.

A creditable line of business this;

If I conceive you rightly, wholesale dealing
Has with you been a most unprosperous trade.
Nothing can you reduce to nothing, and
After your failure are beginning business
Upon a smaller scale.

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There stands it still resisting. I have tried

Every thing deluges, storms, earthquakes, light

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nings

Still rests it there the self-same sea and land.

Even o'er the death-doomed race of men and beasts,

How little is the conquest I have gained!

How many generations in their graves

Have I seen laid, and still the young fresh blood
Will circulate, and still the spirit of life

Decays not!

'Tis enough to drive me mad.

In air, in water, and in earth, up spring

A thousand bursting germs; in dry and damp,
In warm and cold — all things are full of life.
Fire is the one exception were there not

A saving clause of that kind, I'd have nothing,
Nothing whatever, I could call my own,

FAUSTUS.

So thou opposest thy cold devil's fist,
And clenchest it in malice impotent,
'Gainst nature's first and holiest principle

Strange son of chaos, this may well move laughter.

Well

MEPHISTOPHeles.

this point we may talk about hereafter But now, with your permission, I would go.

FAUSTUS.

That you can, whether I permit or no.

Why ask me? Now that you have found your way, I hope to see you often here. Good day!

This the window that the door and yonder The chimney. Why thus stare about and ponder ?

MEPHISTOPHeles.

I am not free: a little obstacle,

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I did not see, confines me to your cell,
The druid foot upon the threshold traced.

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But, son of hell, if this indeed be so,

How came you in, I should be glad to know, How was it, that the charm no earlier wrought?

MEPHISTOPheles.

The lines were not as perfect as they ought:
The outer angle's incomplete.

FAUSTUS.

Well-'twas a pleasant evening's feat
A most unlooked-for accident

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"that

Which bind us devils and phantoms,
Whatever point we enter at,

We at the same return:"- thus we

In our first choice are ever free;

Choose, and the right of choice is o'er,

--

We, who were free, are free no more.

FAUSTUS.

Hell has its codes of law then - well,

I will think better now of hell.

If laws be binding and obeyed,

Then compacts with you may be made.

MEPHISTOPHeles.

Made and fulfilled, too-nowhere better
We keep our promise to the letter;

But points of law like this require

Some time and thought—are apt to tire,
And I am hurried — we may treat
On them at leisure when we meet

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To question further one who brings

Good news, and tells such pleasant things.

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