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And fall into the ocean, ne'er be found! Ugly hell, gape not! come not, Lucifer! Adders and serpents, let me breathe a while! Or Lucifer will bear thee quick to hell! And burned is Apollo's laurel-bough, O soul, be chang'd into little water-drops, Enter DEVILS. Unto some brutish beast![174] all beasts are happy, CHORUS. Cut is the branch that might have grown full straight, That sometime grew within this learned man. Curs'd be the parents that engender'd me! That hath depriv'd thee of the joys of heaven. Enter CHORUS. For, when they die, [Thunder and lightning.] O, it strikes, it strikes! Now, body, turn to air, This soul should fly from me, and I be chang'd But mine must live still to be plagu'd in hell. I'll burn my books!--Ah, Mephistophilis! [The clock strikes twelve.] Their souls are soon dissolv'd in elements; Ah, Pythagoras' metempsychosis, were that true, [Exeunt DEVILS with FAUSTUS.] [175] My God, my god, look not so fierce on me! No, Faustus, curse thyself, curse Lucifer Or why is this immortal that thou hast? Why wert thou not a creature wanting soul?