orm the
wish to fly? Why had I a boundless imagination, the teeming mother of
bold desires, daring wishes and thoughts? Tear from my uncertain and
doubtful soul the flesh which envelops it; destroy in it all remembrance
of its ever having animated a human body: I wish to become henceforward
one of you, and only to live in the desire of evil. Ah, Devil, this is
not so pleasant to thy ears as the hissing, howling song of despair which
thou didst expect. But loosen the enchantment which fetters me in this
circle; and let me perform my last sad duty. I will not attempt to
escape from thee; if I could, I would not, for the pain of hell cannot be
greater than that which I now feel.

_Devil_. Faustus, I am pleased with thy courage, and I would sooner hear
what thou hast said than the wild shriek of despair. Be proud that the
force of thy spirit has carried thee even to madness and blasphemy, for
which the pain of hell awaits thee. Step out of thy circle; bury that
wretched youth; thy part will then be played here, and thou must begin
another, which will never end.

Faustus climbed the gibbet, and cut the rope from the neck of his son.
He then bore him into a neighbouring field which the plough had lately
turned up, and scratching a grave with his hands, he buried the body of
the unfortunate youth. He then returned to the Devil, and said, in a
wild tone:

"The measure of my wretchedness is full; break now the vase which can
hold nothing more; but I have yet courage to struggle with thee for my
life. I will not perish like the slave who yields without resistance to
the might of his master. Appear to me under whatever form thou wilt, and
I will grapple with thee. For freedom, for independence, I once drew
thee out of hell; on its verge I will yet assert my right to both; on the
verge of the frightful gulf I will use my strength, and remember that I
once saw thee tremble before my magic circle, when I threatened to
scourge thee with my rod. The tears which thou seest in my eyes ore
tears of indignation, of hate, and of disgust. Not the fiend, but my own
heart, triumphs over me.

_Devil_. Insipid braggart! With this form I tear off the mask which
belied my courage. Vengeance is at hand, and Leviathan is himself once
more!

He stood in gigantic stature before him. His eyes glowed like full-laden
thunder-clouds, which reflect the rays of the descending sun. The noise
of his breath was like the rushing of the