_How Doctor Faustus bewailed to think on Hell, and of the miserable
pains therein provided for him_
Now thou Faustus, damned wretch, how happy wert thou if as an
unreasonable beast thou mightest die without soul, so shouldst thou
not feel any more doubts? But now the Devil will take thee away both
body and soul, and set thee in an unspeakable place of darkness: for
although others’ souls have rest and peace, yet I poor damned wretch
must suffer all manner of filthy stench, pains, cold, hunger, thirst,
heat, freezing, burning, hissing, gnashing, and all the wrath and
curse of God, yea all the creatures that God hath created are enemies
to me. And now too late I remember that my Spirit Mephostophiles did
once tell me, there was a great difference amongst the damned; for
the greater the sin, the greater the torment: for as the twigs of the
tree make greater flame than the trunk thereof, and yet the trunk
continueth longer in burning: even so the more that a man is rooted in
sin, the greater is his punishment. Ah thou perpetual damned wretch,
now art thou thrown into the everlasting fiery lake that never shall be
quenched, there must I dwell in all manner of wailing, sorrow, misery,
pain, torment, grief, howling, sighing, sobbing, blubbering, running
of eyes, stinking at nose, gnashing of teeth, fear to the ears, horror
to the conscience, and shaking both of hand and foot. Ah that I could
carry the heavens on my shoulders, so that there were time at last to
quit me of this everlasting damnation! Oh who can deliver me out of
these fearful tormenting flames, the which I see prepared for me? Oh
there is no help, nor any man that can deliver me, nor any wailing
of sins can help me, neither is there rest to be found for me day
nor night. Ah woe is me, for there is no help for me, no shield, no
defence, no comfort. Where is my hold? knowledge dare I not trust: and
for a soul to Godwards that have I not, for I shame to speak unto him:
if I do, no answer shall be made me, but he will hide his face from
me, to the end that I should not behold the joys of the chosen. What
mean I then to complain where no help is? No, I know no hope resteth in
my groanings: I have desired that it should be so, and God hath said
Amen to my misdoings: for now I must have shame to comfort me in my
calamities.