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What boots it, then, to think of God or heaven? Away with such vain fancies, and despair; Despair in God, and trust in Belzebub: Now go not backward; no, Faustus, be resolute: Why waver'st thou? O, something soundeth in mine ears, "Abjure this magic, turn to God again!" Ay, and Faustus will turn to God again. To God? he loves thee not; The god thou serv'st is thine own appetite, Wherein is fix'd the love of Belzebub: To him I'll build an altar and a church, And offer lukewarm blood of new-born babes. Enter GOOD ANGEL and EVIL ANGEL. GOOD ANGEL. Sweet Faustus, leave that execrable art. FAUSTUS. Contrition, prayer, repentance--what of them? GOOD ANGEL. O, they are means to bring thee unto heaven! EVIL ANGEL. Rather illusions, fruits of lunacy, That make men foolish that do trust them most. GOOD ANGEL. Sweet Faustus, think of heaven and heavenly things. EVIL ANGEL. No, Faustus; think of honour and of[76] wealth. [Exeunt ANGELS.] FAUSTUS. Of wealth! Why, the signiory of Embden shall be mine. When Mephistophilis shall stand by me, What god can hurt thee, Faustus? thou art safe Cast no more doubts.--Come, Mephistophilis, And bring glad tidings from great Lucifer;--