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There are live quarters broiling on the coals, That ne'er can die; this ever-burning chair Is for o'er-tortur'd souls to rest them in; These that are fed with sops of flaming fire, Were gluttons, and lov'd only delicates, And laugh'd to see the poor starve at their gates: But yet all these are nothing; thou shalt see Ten thousand tortures that more horrid be. FAUSTUS. O, I have seen enough to torture me! EVIL ANGEL. Nay, thou must feel them, taste the smart of all: He that loves pleasure must for pleasure fall: And so I leave thee, Faustus, till anon; Then wilt thou tumble in confusion. [Exit. Hell disappears.--The clock strikes eleven.] FAUSTUS. O Faustus, Now hast thou but one bare hour to live, And then thou must be damn'd perpetually! Stand still, you ever-moving spheres of heaven, That time may cease, and midnight never come; Fair Nature's eye, rise, rise again, and make Perpetual day; or let this hour be but A year, a month, a week, a natural day, That Faustus may repent and save his soul! O lente, lente currite, noctis equi! The stars move still, time runs, the clock will strike, The devil will come, and Faustus must be damn'd. O, I'll leap up to heaven!--Who pulls me down?--