The Life and Death of Doctor Faustus Made into a Farce

Meph. What else.

Har. What else: Why if Fornication been't against your Commandments, we would have some live Flesh; a handsom Wench.

Scar. Only for a third Person, and please your Damnation.

Meph. You shall have your Desires.

Har. We desire your Mephostopholiship too, not to let us stay the Roasting and Boiling of any thing: For we are as Eager as the Wine in Smithfield, and want no whetting.

Meph. You shall.

Scaramouche and Harlequin pull off their Caps.

Now if your mighty Darkness would please to Retire.

Meph. Farewell. [Vanish.

Scaramouche steps out of the Circle, and struts about.

Scar. Now how do you like my Art?

Har. O rare Art! O divine Mr. Doctor Scaramouche! If the Devil be as good as his Word, I'll owe him a good Turn as long as I live: But I wish our third Person would come.

A Giant rises.

Ha! What's here?

Gi. I am sent by Pluto to bear you Company.

Har. Is this his third Person? Or is it Three Generations in One? Come you from Guild-hall, Sir?

Gi. No, Mortal, from the Stygian Lake. I am the Giant which St. George destroy'd; and in the Earth have been decaying ever since, but now am come to Eat with you.

Scar. To pick up your Crums, Sir: You'r heartily Welcome.

Scaramouche gets upon Harlequin, and salutes him.

Gi. I have lain now within the Stygian Lake 2000 Years.

Scar. Your Honour is not much shrunk in the Wetting.

Gi. But we loose Time, and Dinner cools.

Har. Where is it?

Gi. In the next Room.

Scar. Will it please your Lustiness to lead the Way?

Har. Will it please you then to make way for him?

Gi. I can divide my self to serve my Friends?

[Giant leaps in two.

Breeches be you my Page, and follow me.

Harleq. and Scaram. complement the Breeches. [Exeunt.

SCENE draws, and discovers a Table furnished with Bottles of Wine, and a Venison Pasty, a Pot of wild Fowl, &c.

Enter Scaramouche, Giant, and Harlequin.

Har. O heavenly Apparition!

Scar. Come, let's sit down.

The upper part of the Giant flies up, and the under sinks, and discovers a Woman in the Room.

Harlequin and Scaramouche start.

Scar. Ha! What's here, a Woman?

Har. O happy Change! Madam, with your good Leave.

[Kisses.

Scar. Never too late in good Breeding. [Kisses.] Rare Wench! And as Luscious as Pig-sauce.

Har. Heav'n be prais'd for all.

[Woman sinks, a Flash of Lightning.

Scar. Your unseasonable Thankfulness has rob'd us of our Strumpet.

Har. No matter, no matter; we shall meet her in the Cloisters after the Fair. Come let's fall too.

[They put their Caps before their Faces.

Ha!

Scar. The Table runs away from us.

Har. We'll bestow the Pains to follow it again; this I see is a running Banquet.

[They put their Caps on again, the Table removes.

Scar. I have found the Secret: We must not say Grace at the Devil's Feast.

Har. Come then let's fall too, San's Ceremony; Will you be Carver?

Scar. Every one for himself, I say.

Har. Ay, every one for himself, and God for us all.

[Table flies up into the Air.

Scar. A Plague o'your Proverb; it has a Word in't must not be named.

Har. Ah, Mr. Doctor, do but intreat Mr. Mephostopholis to let the Table down to us, or send us to that, and I'll be his Servant as long as I live. [They are hoisted up to the Table.

Scar. and Har. Oh, oh, oh.

Scar. Now have a care of another Proverb: We go without our Supper.

Har. Nay, now I know the Devil's Humour, I'll hit him to a Hair: Pray, Mr. Doctor, cut up that Pasty.

Scar. I can't get my Knife into it, 'tis over-bak'd.

Har. Ay, 'tis often so: God sends Meat, and the Devil sends Cooks. [Table flies down.

Scar. Thou Varlet, dost thou see what thy Proverb has done?

Har. Now could I curse my Grand-mother, for she taught 'em me: Well, if sweet Mephostopholis will be so kind as but to let us and the Table come together again, I'll promise never to say Grace, or speak Proverb more, as long as I live.

[They are let down to the Table.

Scar. Your Prayers are heard, now be careful; for if I lose my Supper by thy Negligence I'll cut thy Throat.

Har. Do, and eat me when you have done. I am damnably hungry; I'll cut open this Pasty, while you open that Pot of wild Fowl.

[Harlequin takes off the Lid of the Pasty, and a Stag's Head peeps out; and out of the Pot of Fowl flies Birds. Harlequin and Scaramouche start back, fall over their Chairs, and get up.

Har. Here's the Nest but the Birds are flown: Here's Wine though, and now I'll conjure for a Supper. I have a Sallad within of my own Gathering in the Fields to Day.

Scar. Fetch it in; Bread, Wine, and a Salad may serve for a Collation.

Enter Harlequin with a Tray of Sallad.

Har. Come, no Ceremony among Friends. Bon. fro.

Scar. Sallad mal adjuste; here's neither Fat nor Lean.

Har. O Mr. Doctor, neither Fat nor Lean in a Sallad.

Scar. Neither Oyl, nor Vinegar.

Har. Oh! I'll fetch you that presently.

[Harlequin fetches a Chamber-pot of Piss, and a Lamp of Oyl, and pours on the Sallad.

Scar. O thy Sallad is nothing but Thistles and Netles; and thy Oyl stinks worse than Arsefetito.

Har. Bread and Wine be our Fare. Ha! the Bread's alive. [Bread stirs.

Scar. Or the Devil's in't. Hey! again. [Bread sinks.

Har. My Belly's as empty as a Beggar's Purse.

Scar. And mine as full of Wind as a Trumpeter's Cheeks.

[Table sinks, and Flash of Lightning.

But since we can't Eat, let's Drink: Come, here's Dr. Faustus's Health.

Har. Ay, come; God bless Dr. Faustus.

[Bottles fly up, and the Table sinks.

Scar. What all gone: Here's a Banquet stole away like a City Feast. [Musick.

Har. Ha! here's Musick to delight us.

[Two Chairs rises. Harlequin and Scaramouche sits down, and are caught fast.

Scar. Ha! the Devil. We are lock'd in.

Har. As fast as a Counter Rat.

Enter several Devils, who black Harlequin and Scaramouche's Faces, and then squirt Milk upon them. After the Dance they both sink.

Scar. and Har. O' o, o'–

The End of the Second Act

ACT III

SCENE a Wood.

Mephostopholis and Dr. Faustus.

Faust. How have I been delighted by thy Art; and in Twelve Years have seen the utmost Limits of the spacious World; feasted my self with all Varieties; pleasur'd my Fancy with my Magick Art, and liv'd sole Lord o'er every Thing I wish'd for.

Meph. Ay, Faustus, is it not a splendid Life?

Faust. It is my Spirit; but prithee now retire, while I repose my self within this Shade, and when I wake attend on me again.

Meph. Faust, I will. [Exit.

Faust. What art thou, Faustus, but a Man condemn'd. Thy Lease of Years expire apace; and, Faustus, then thou must be Lucifers: Here rest my Soul, and in my Sleep my future State be buried.

Good and bad Angel descends.

Good An. Faustus, sweet Faustus, yet remember Heav'n. Oh! think upon the everlasting Pain thou must endure, For all thy short Space of Pleasure.

Bad An. Illusions, Fancies, Faustus; think of Earth. The Kings thou shalt command: The Pleasures Rule. Be, Faustus, not a whining, pious Fool. [Ascend.

Enter Horse-courser.

Hors. Oh! what a couz'ning Doctor was this: I riding my Horse into the Water, thinking some hidden Mystery had been in 'em, found my self on a Bundle of Straw, and was drag'd by Something in the Water, like a Bailiff through a Horse-pond. Ha! he's a Sleep: So ho, Mr. Doctor, so ho. Why Doctor, you couz'ning, wheedling, hypocritical, cheating, chousing, Son of a Whore; awake, rise, and give me my Mony again, for your Horse is turn'd into a Bottle of Hay. Why Sirrah, Doctor; 'sfoot I think he's dead. Way Doctor Scab; you mangy Dog. [pulls him by the Leg. 'Zounds I'm undone, I have pull'd his Leg off.

Faust. O help! the Villain has undone me; Murder.

Hors. Murder, or not Murder, now he has but one Leg I'll out-run him. [Exit.

Faust. Stop, stop him; ha, ha, ha, Faustus has his Leg again, and the Horse-courser a Bundle of Hay for his Forty Dollars. Come, Mephostopholis, let's now attend the Emperor. [Exit Faust. and Meph.

Enter Horse-courser, and Carter, with Pots of Ale.

Cart. Here's to thee; and now I'll tell thee what I came hither for: You have heard of a Conjurer they call Doctor Faustus.

Hors. Heard of him, a Plague take him, I have Cause to know him; has he play'd any Pranks with you?

Cart. I'll tell thee, as I was going to the Market a while ago, with a Load of Hay, he met me, and askt me, What he should give me for as much Hay as his Horse would Eat: Now, Sir, I thinking that a little would serve his Turn, bad him take as much as he would for Three Farthings.

Hors. So.

Cart. So he presently gave me Mony, and fell to Eating: And as I'm a cursen Man, he never left Yeating and Yeating, 'till he had eaten up my whole Load of Hay.

Hors. Now you shall hear how he serv'd me: I went to him Yesterday to buy a Horse of him, which I did; and he bad me be sure not to ride him into the Water.

Cart. Good.

Hors. Ad's Wounds 'twas Bad, as you shall hear: For I thinking the Horse had some rare Quality, that he would not have me know, what do me I but rides him in the Water; and when I came just in the midst of the River, I found my self a Straddle on a Bottle of Hay.

Cart. O rare Doctor!

Hors. But you shall hear how I serv'd him bravely for it; for finding him a Sleep just now in a By-Field, I whoop'd and hollow'd in his Ears, but could not wake him; so I took hold of his Leg, and never left pulling till I had pull'd it quite off.

Cart. And has the Doctor but one Leg then? That's Rare. But come, this is his House, let's in and see for our Mony; look you, we'll pay as we come back.

Hors. Done, done; and when we have got our Mony let's laugh at his one Leg: Ha, ha, ha. [Exeunt Laughing.

Enter Hostess.

Host. What have the Rogues left my Pots, and run away, without paying their Reck'ning? I'll after 'em, cheating Villains, Rogues, Cut-purses; rob a poor Woman, cheat the Spittle, and rob the King of his Excise; a parcel of Rustick, Clownish, Pedantical, High-shoo'd, Plow-jobbing, Cart-driving, Pinch-back'd, Paralytick, Fumbling, Grumbling, Bellowing, Yellowing, Peas-picking, Stinking, Mangy, Runagate, Ill-begotten, Ill-contriv'd, Wry-mouth'd, Spatrifying, Dunghill-raking, Costive, Snorting, Sweaty, Farting, Whaw-drover Dogs. [Exit

Enter Faustus.

Faust. My Time draws near, and 20 Years are past: I have but Four poor Twelve Months for my Life, and then I am damn'd for ever.

Enter an Old Man.

Old M. O gentle Faustus, leave this damn'd Art; this Magick, that will charm thy Soul to Hell, and quite bereave thee of Salvation: Though thou hast now offended like a Man, do not, oh! do not persist in't like a Devil. It may be this my Exhortation seems harsh, and all unpleasant; let it not, for, gentle Son, I speak in tender Love and Pity of thy future Misery; and so have hope that this my kind Rebuke, checking thy Body, may preserve thy Soul.

Faust. Where art thou, Faustus? Wretch, what hast thou done? O Friend, I feel thy Words to comfort my distressed Soul; retire, and let me ponder on my Sins.

Old M. Faustus, I leave thee, but with grief of Heart, Fearing thy Enemy will near depart. [Exit.

Enter Mephostopholis.

Meph. Thou Traytor, I arrest thee for Disobedience to thy Sovereign Lord; revolt, or I'll in piece-meal tear thy Flesh.

Faust. I do repent I e'er offended him; torment, sweet Friend, that old Man that durst disswade me from thy Lucifer.

Meph. His Faith is great, I cannot touch his Soul; but what I can afflict his Body with I will.

Enter Horse-courser and Carter.

Hors. We are come to drink a Health to your wooden Leg.

Faust. My wooden Leg; what dost thou mean, Friend?

Hors. Ha, ha! he has forgot his Leg.

Cart. Psha, 'tis not a Leg he stands upon. Pray, let me ask you one Question; Are both your Legs Bed-fellows?

Faust. Why dost thou ask?

Cart. Because I believe you have a good Companion of one.

Hors. Why, don't you remember I pull'd off one o' your Legs when you were a Sleep?

Faust. But I have it again now I am awake.

Cart. Ad's Wounds, had the Doctor three Legs!–You, Sir, don't you remember you gave a Peny for as much Hay as your Horse would eat, and then eat up my whole Load.

Hors. Look you, Mr. Doctor, you must not carry it off so; I come to have the Mony again I gave for the Ho-o-o-

[Faustus waves his Wand.

Cart. And I come to be paid far my Load of Ha-a-a.

Enter Hostess.

Host. O Mr. Doctor! do you harbour Rogues that bilk poor Folks, and wont pay their Reck'nings? Who must pay me for my A-a-a-a [Waves again.

Enter Scaramouche.

Scar. Mr. Doctor, I can't be quiet for your Devil Mr. Me-o-o— [Waves again.

[Exeunt Faustus and Mephostopholis. They all stare at one another, and so go off, crying O, o, o, o- to the Emperor's Pallace.

Enter Emperor, Faustus, Gent. Guards. Benoolio above.

Emp. Wonder of Men, thrice Learned Faustus, Renowned Magician, welcome to our Court; and as thou late didst promise us, I would behold the Famous Alexander fighting with his great Rival Darius, in their true Shapes, and State Majestical.

Faust. Your Majesty shall see 'em presently.

Ben. If thou bring'st Alexander, or Darius here, I'll be content to be Actæon, and turn my self to a Stag.

Faust. And I'll play Diana, and send you the Horns presently.

Enter Darius and Alexander; they Fight: Darius falls. Alexander takes his Crown, and puts it on his Head.

[Exit. Darius sinks.

Faust. Away, be gon; see, my Gracious Lord, what Beast is that that thrusts his Head out of yon' Window.

Emp. O wondrous Sight! see two Horns on young Benoolio's Head; call him, Lords.

Lord. What, ho! Benoolio.

Ben. A Plague upon you, let me Sleep.

Lord. Look up, Benoolio, 'tis the Emperor calls.

Ben. The Emperor; O my Head.

Faust. And thy Horns hold, 'tis no matter for thy Head.

Ben. Doctor, this is your Villany.

Faust. O say not so, Sir; the Doctor has no Skill, if he bring Alexander or Darius here you'll be Actæon, and turn to a Stag: Therefore, if it please your Majesty, I'll bring a Kennel of Hounds to hunt him. Ho! Helmot, Argiron, Asterot.

Ben. Hold, he'll raise a Kennel of Devils. Good, my Lord, intreat.

Emp. Prithee remove his Horns, he has done Penance enough.

Faust. Away; and remember hereafter you speak well of Scholars.

Ben. If Scholars be such Cuckolds to put Horns upon honest Mens Heads, I'll ne'er trust Smooth-face and Small-band more: But if I been't reveng'd, may I be turn'd to a Gaping Oyster, and drink nothing but Salt-water.

Emp. Come, Faustus, in recompence of this high Desert, Thou shalt command the State of Germany, and live belov'd of mighty Carolus. [Exeunt omnes.

SCENE a Garden.

Lord. Nay, sweet Benoolio, let us sway thy Thoughts from this Attempt against the Conjurer.

Ben. My Head is lighter than it was by the Horns:

And yet my Heart's more pond'rous than my Head,

And pants, until I see the Conjurer dead.

2 Lord. Consider.

Ben. Away; disswade me not, he comes. [Draws.

Enter Faustus with a false Head.

Now Sword strike home:

For Horns he gave, I'll have his Head anon.

Runs Faustus through, he falls.

Faust. Oh, oh.

Ben. Groan you, Mr. Doctor, now for his Head.

[Cuts his Head off.

Lord. Struck with a willing Hand.

Ben. First, on this Scull, in quittance of my Wrongs, I'll nail huge forked Horns within the Window where he yoak'd me first, that all the World may see my just Revenge; and thus having settled his Head–

Faust. What shall the Body do, Gentlemen.

Ben. The Devil's alive again?

Lord. Give the Devil his Head again.

Faust. Nay, keep it; Faustus will have Heads and Hands;I call your Hearts to recompence this Deed.Ho; Asteroth, Belincoth, Mephostopholis.

Enter Devils, and Horse 'em upon others.

Go Horse these Traytors on your fiery Backs.Drag 'em through Dirt and Mud, through Thorns and Briers.

Lord. Pity us, gentle Faustus, save our Lives.

Faust. Away.

Ben. He must needs go whom the Devil drives.

[Spirits fly away. Exit Faustus.

SCENE a Hall.

Enter Harlequin in a Beggar's Habit.

Harl. I find this Scaramouche is a Villain; he has left the Doctor, and is come to be Steward to a rich Widdow, whose Husband dyed Yesterday, and here he is coming to give the Poor their Doles, of which I'll ha' my Share.

Scaramouche, and poor People, with a Basket of Bread and Money.

Scar. Come hither, poor Devils; stand in Order, and be Damn'd. I came to distribute what your deceased good Master hath bequeath'd. [They all stare at Scar.

Harl. God bless you, Mr. Steward.

Scar. Let me tell you, Gentlemen, he was as good a Man as ever piss'd, or cry'd Stand on the High-way.

[Scaramouche takes out a Leaf and a Shilling, holds it out, and Harlequin takes it.

He spent a good Estate, 'tis true; but he was no Body's Foe but his own. I never left him while he was worth a Groat. [Again.] He would now and then Curse in his Passion, and give a Soul to the Devil, or so; yet, what of that? He always paid his Club, and no Man can say he owes this. [Again.] He had a Colt's Tooth, and over-laid one of his Maids; yet, what of that? All Flesh is frail. [Again.] 'Tis thought that her Body workt him off on his Legs; why, what of that? his Legs were his own, and his Arse never hung in your Light. [Again.] Sometimes, you'll say, he wou'd rap out an Oath; what then, Words are but Wind, and he meant no more harm than a sucking Pig does by squeaking. [Again.] Now let's consider his good Deeds; he brew'd a Firkin of strong Drink for the poor every Year, and kill'd an old Ram every Easter: The Meat that was stale, and his Drink that was sowre, was always yours. [Again.] He allow'd you in Harvest to Glean after his Rake. [Again.] And now, at his Death, has given you all this. [Again.

Scar. So, setting the Hare's Head against the Goose Giblets, he was a good Hospitable Man; and much good may do you with what you had.

Poor. I have had nothing.

2 Poor. Nor I.

3 Po. Nor I.

4 Po. Nor. I.

Scar. Nothing.

All. Nothing, nothing.

Scar. Nothing, nothing; you lying Rogues, then there's something for you. [Beats 'em all off.

Enter Harlequin in a Cloak, laughing.

Har. So now I am Victual'd, I may hold out Siege against Hunger. [A Noise within; this way, this way.

Ha! they are hunting after me, and will kill me. Let me see, I will take this Gibbet for my Preserver, and with this long Cloak make as if I were hang'd. Now when they find a Man hang'd, not knowing me in this Disguise, they'll look no farther after me, but think the Thief's hang'd.–I hear 'em coming. [Throws himself off the Ladder.

Enter Scaramouche.

Scar. Ha! what's here, a Man hang'd? But what Paper is this in his Hand?

[Whil'st Scaramouche reads, Harlequin puts the Rope over him.

I have cheated the Poor of their Mony, and took the Bread out of their Mouths, for which I was much troubled in Conscience, fell into Dispair, and, as you see, hang'd my self.

[Pulls him up, and runs out

O the Devil! Murder, murder!

Enter Poor.

Poor. O Neighbours, here hangs the Rogue.

Scar. Help me down?

Poor. No, you are very well as you are.

Scar. Don't you know me?

Poor. Ay, for a Rogue; e'en finish your Work, and save the Hang-man a Labour. Yet, now I think on't, self-murder is a crying Sin, and may damn his Soul. Come, Neighbours, we'll take him down, and have him hang'd according to Law. [When he's down he trips up their Heels, and runs out, they after him.

All. Stop Thief, stop Thief.

Thunder and Lightning; Lucifer, Beelzebub, and Mephostopholis.

Luc. Thus from the infernal Dis do we ascend, bringing with us the Deed; the Time is come which makes it forfeit.

Enter Faustus, an old Man, and a Scholar.

Old M. Yet, Faustus, call on Heav'n.

Faust. Oh! 'tis too late; behold, they lock my Hands.

Old M. Who, Faustus?

Faust. Lucifer and Mephostopholis; I gave 'em my Soul for Four and twenty Years.

Old M. Heav'n forbid.

Fau. Ay, Heav'n forbad it indeed, but Faustus has done it; for the vain Pleasure of Four and twenty Years, Faustus has lost eternal Joy and Felicity: I writ 'em a Bill with my own Blood, the Date is expired; this is the Time, and they are come to fetch me.

Old M. Why would not Faustus tell me of that before?

Faust. I oft intended it, but the Devil threat'ned to tear me in Pieces. O Friend, retire, and save your self.

Old M. I'll into the next Room, and there pray for thee.

Faust. Ay, pray for me; and what Noise soever you hear stir not, for nothing can rescue me.

Old M. Pray thou, and I'll pray. Adieu.

Faust. If I live till Morning I'll visit you; if not, Faustus is gon to Hell. [Exeunt old Man and Scholar.

Meph. Ay, Faustus, now thou hast no hopes on Heav'n.

Faust. O thou bewitching Fiend; 'twas thou, and thyTemptations, hath rob'd me of eternal Happiness.Meph. I do confess it, Faustus, and rejoyce.What weep'st thou, 'tis too late; hark to thy Knell:Fools that will Laugh on Earth, must Weep in Hell.

Ext.