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Come, Mephistophilis, let us dispute again, And hath not he, that built the walls of Thebes Even from the moon unto th' empyreal orb, As is the substance of this centric earth? Made music with my Mephistophilis? Scarce can I name salvation, faith, or heaven: Feign'd, but are erring [76] stars. With ravishing sound of his melodious harp, Whose termine [75] is term'd the world's wide pole; Mutually folded in each other's spheres, MEPHIST. All move from east to west in four-and-twenty MEPHIST. As are the elements, such are the heavens, And long ere this I [74] should have done the deed, Of Alexander's love and Oenon's death? FAUSTUS. My heart is harden'd, I cannot repent; I am resolv'd; Faustus shall not repent.-- Are all celestial bodies but one globe, Have not I made blind Homer sing to me Speak, are there many spheres above the moon? Why should I die, then, or basely despair? And reason of divine astrology. Had not sweet pleasure conquer'd deep despair. Are laid before me to despatch myself; Nor are the names of Saturn, Mars, or Jupiter Swords, poisons, halters, and envenom'd steel And jointly move upon one axletree, FAUSTUS. But have they all one motion, both situ et tempore?