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GOOD ANGEL. Sweet Faustus, leave that execrable art. GOOD ANGEL. O, they are means to bring thee unto heaven! EVIL ANGEL. Rather illusions, fruits of lunacy, That make men [47] foolish that do use them most. Why, the signiory of Embden shall be mine. EVIL ANGEL. Go forward, Faustus, in that famous [45] art. To him I'll build an altar and a church, Cast no more doubts.--Mephistophilis, come, Enter MEPHISTOPHILIS. Enter GOOD ANGEL and EVIL ANGEL. FAUSTUS. Contrition, prayer, repentance--what of [46] these? EVIL ANGEL. No, Faustus; think of honour and of wealth. Now tell me what saith Lucifer, thy lord? Is't not midnight?--come Mephistophilis, GOOD ANGEL. Sweet Faustus, think of heaven and heavenly things. Veni, veni, Mephistophile! [48] Why, he loves thee not; Is't not midnight?--come Mephistophilis, And bring glad tidings from great Lucifer;-- What power can hurt me? Faustus, thou art safe: And bring glad tidings from great Lucifer;-- The god thou serv'st is thine own appetite, Wherein is fix'd the love of Belzebub: And offer lukewarm blood of new-born babes. FAUSTUS. Wealth! When Mephistophilis shall stand by me, [Exeunt ANGELS.]