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Hell calls for right, and with a roaring voice [MEPHISTOPHILIS gives him a dagger.] Damn'd art thou, Faustus, damn'd; despair and die! Of thy most vile[155] and loathsome filthiness, That shall conduct thee to celestial rest! By which sweet path thou mayst attain the goal The stench whereof corrupts the inward soul Tears falling from repentant heaviness Fearing the ruin of thy hopeless soul. FAUSTUS. Where art thou, Faustus? wretch, what hast thou done? Break heart, drop blood, and mingle it with tears, OLD MAN. Ah, stay, good Faustus, stay thy desperate steps! But mercy, Faustus, of thy Saviour sweet, And Faustus now[158] will come to do thee right. [Exit.] Leave me a while to ponder on my sins. Thy words to comfort my distressed soul! Offers to pour the same into thy soul: With such flagitious crimes of heinous sin[156] I see an angel hovers o'er thy head, Says, "Faustus, come; thine hour is almost[157] come;" Then call for mercy, and avoid despair. Whose blood alone must wash away thy guilt. And, with a vial full of precious grace, As no commiseration may expel, FAUSTUS. Ah, my sweet friend, I feel OLD MAN. I go, sweet Faustus; but with heavy cheer,