No, Faustus, curse thyself, curse Lucifer That hath deprived thee of the joys of Heaven. Oh, it strikes, it strikes! Now, body, turn to air, Or Lucifer will bear thee quick to hell! O soul, be chang'd into little water-drops And fall into the ocean, ne'er be found. My God, my God, look not so fierce on me. Adders and serpents, let me breathe awhile. Ugly hell, gape not, come not, Lucifer! I'll burn my books!--ah, Mephistopheles!
| Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1000203 | 2024-01-16 03:57:20 | 126.54 | 98.9% |