His days ran out like the sand in an hourglass, and when only one month remained of the twenty-four years which he had contracted of the Devil (as ye have read) Doctor Faustus became fainthearted, depressed, deeply melancholic, like unto an imprisoned murderer and highwayman over whose head the sentence hath been pronounced and who now in the dungeon awaiteth punishment and death. Filled with fear, he sobbed and held conversations with himself, accompanying such speeches with many gestures of his hands. He did moan and sigh and fall away from flesh. He kept himself close and could not abide to have the spirit about him.
See also: Faust [Wikipedia] The Faust Book [lettersfromthedustbowl.com]
