Ah Fair Zenocrate, Divine Zenocrate, Fair Is

Till Swollen With Cunning, Of A Self-conceit, His Waxen Wings Did Mount Above His Reach, And, Melting, Heavens Conspir'd His Overthrow.

Excess Of Wealth Is Cause Of Covetousness.

What Art Thou Faustus, But A Man Condemned To Die?

Faustus. Had I As Many Souls As There Be Stars, I'd Give Them All For Mephistophilis. By Him I'll Be Great Emperor Of The World, And Make A Bridge Thorough The Moving Air, To Pass The Ocean With A Band Of Men; I'll Join The Hills That Bind The Afric Shore, And Make That Country Continent To Spain, And Both Contributory To My Crown: The Emperor Shall Not Live But By My Leave, Nor Any Potentate Of Germany. Now That I Have Obtain'd What I Desir'd, I'll Live In Speculation Of This Art, Till Mephistophilis Return Again.

Is It Not Passing Brave To Be A King And Ride In Triumph Through Persepolis?