In the play by Christopher Marlowe, Faust sells his soul to the devil [Spoiler, sorry]. But like any sensible commercial operative, Faust does have the sense to do a little bit of due diligence before completing the transaction.
The exchange, if memory and Google serve me correctly, goes something like:
FAUST: So, Mephy-baby. I thought you were supposed to be in hell? They, like, let you out and stuff?
MEPHISTOPHELES THE DEVIL: Why this is hell, nor am I out of it. Think’st thou that I who saw the face of God and tasted the eternal joys of Heaven, am not tormented with ten thousand hells in being depriv’d of everlasting bliss?
MEPHISTOPHELES THE DEVIL: O Faustus! Leave these frivolous demands, which strike a terror to my fainting soul.
FAUST: Man up, dude.