Lone Women, Like To Empty

Faustus. [stabbing His Arm.] Lo, Mephistophilis, For Love Of Thee, I Cut Mine Arm, And With My Proper Blood Assure My Soul To Be Great Lucifer's, Chief Lord And Regent Of Perpetual Night!

Above Our Life We Love A Steadfast Friend.

The Griefs Of Private Men Are Soon Allayed, But Not Of Kings.

Virginity, Albeit Some Highly Prize It, Compared With Marriage, Had You Tried Them Both, Differs As Much As Wine And Water Doth.

Till Swollen With Cunning, Of A Self-conceit, His Waxen Wings Did Mount Above His Reach, And, Melting, Heavens Conspir'd His Overthrow.