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