<h2>ACT II.</h2>
<p>Faustus <i>in his Study</i>.</p>
<p><i>Good and Bad Angel descend.</i></p>
<p><i>Good An.</i> <i>Faustus</i>, Repent; yet Heav'n will pity thee.</p>
<p><i>Bad An.</i> Thou art a Spirit, Heav'n cannot
pity thee.</p>
<p><i>Fau.</i> Who buzzes in my Ear, I am a Spirit; be I a Devil
yet Heaven can pity me: Yea, Heaven will pity me, if I
repent.</p>
<p><i>Bad An.</i> Ay, but <i>Faustus</i> never shall repent.</p>
<p><i>Good An.</i> Sweet <i>Faustus</i> think of Heav'n, and heavenly
Things. [<i>Ascends.</i></p>
<p><i>Fau.</i> My Heart is hardened, I cannot repent.<br/>
Scarce can I name Salvation, Faith, or Heav'n,<br/>
But I am pinch'd, and prick'd, in thousand Places.<br/>
O help distressed <i>Faustus</i>!<br/></p>
<p>Lucifer, Beelzebub. <i>and</i> Mephostopholis <i>rises</i>.</p>
<p><i>Luc.</i> None can afford thee help; for only I have Interest
in thee, <i>Faustus</i>.</p>
<p><i>Fau.</i> Oh! What art thou, that looks so terrible?</p>
<p><i>Luc.</i> I am <i>Lucifer</i>, and this is my Companion Prince in
Hell.</p>
<p><i>Beel.</i> We are come to tell thee thou dost injure us.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</SPAN></span></p>
<p><i>Luc.</i> Thou call'st on Heav'n contrary to thy Promise.</p>
<p><i>Beel.</i> Thou should'st not think on Heav'n.</p>
<p><i>Fau.</i> Nor will I henceforth pardon him for this,<br/>
And <i>Faustus</i> Vows never to look to Heav'n.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Beel.</i> So shalt thou shew thy self a faithful Servant,<br/>
And we will highly gratify thee for it.<br/></p>
<p><i>Fau.</i> Those Words delight my Soul.</p>
<p><i>Luc.</i> <i>Faustus</i>, we are come in Person to shew thee Passtime;
sit down, and thou shalt behold the Seven Deadly
Sins in their own proper Shapes and Likeness.</p>
<p><i>Fau.</i> That Sight will be as pleasant to my Eye, as Paradise
to <i>Adam</i> the first Day of his Creation.</p>
<p><i>Beel.</i> Talk not of Paradise, but mind the Show. Go, <i>Mephostopholis</i>,
and fetch 'em in; and, <i>Faustus</i>, question 'em their
Names. <i>Enter Pride.</i></p>
<p><i>Fau.</i> What art thou?</p>
<p><i>Prid.</i> I am <i>Pride</i>; I was begot by Disdain and Affectation.
I always took the Wall of my Betters; had ever the first Cut,
or else would not eat: I scorn'd all Advice, never thought
any one handsom but my self; had the best Pue in the Church,
though a Tradesman's Wife; and at last dyed of the Spleen,
for want of a Coach and Six Horses. Why is not thy Room
perfum'd, and spread with Cloth of <i>Tissue</i>? What must you
sit, and I stand? Rise up Brute.</p>
<p><i>Fau.</i> Go, thou art a proud Slut indeed. [<i>Exit.</i></p>
<p><i>Enter</i> Covetousness.</p>
<p>Now what art thou the Second.</p>
<p><i>Cov.</i> I am <i>Covetousness</i>; I was begot by a close Fist, and
a griping Heart, in a Usurer's Chest. I never eat, to save
Charges: This Coat has cover'd me for Fourscore Winters:
This Beard has seen as many more. I never slept in my Life,
but always watch'd my Gold.</p>
<p><i>Fau.</i> What wert thou on Earth?</p>
<p><i>Cov.</i> I was first an Exciseman, and cheated the King and
Country; then I was a Baker, and from every Neighbor's
Loaf I stole Two Pound, and swore 'twas shrunk in the
Oven. I was a Vintner, and by bribing of Quest-men had
leave to sell in Pint Bottles for Quarts: At last I was a Horse-courser,
made <i>Smithfield</i> too hot to hold me, and rid Post to
the Devil? Give me some Gold, Father? [<i>Exit.</i><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</SPAN></span></p>
<p><i>Enter</i> Envy.</p>
<p><i>Fau.</i> What art thou the Third?</p>
<p><i>Env.</i> I am <i>Envy</i>; begot by a Chimny-sweeper upon an
Oyster-wench. I cannot read, and wish all Books burnt. I
always curst the Government that I was not prefer'd; and
was a Male-content in Three Kings Reigns. I am Lean with
seeing others Eat; and I wish the Devil would make a
Sponge of thy Heart, to wipe out the Score of my Sins.</p>
<p><i>Enter</i> Wrath.</p>
<p><i>Fau.</i> Out, Envious Wretch. What art thou the Fourth?</p>
<p><i>Wra.</i> I am <i>Wrath</i>; I had neither Father nor Mother, but
leap'd out of a Lion's Mouth when I was scarce an Hour
old. I always abhor'd the Art of Patience, and curst all
Fisher-men. I beat my Wife for my Pleasure; curst Heav'n
in my Passion, 'cause it gave me no Fortune, and was hang'd
for a Rape on a <i>Scotch</i> Pedlar. [<i>Exit.</i></p>
<p><i>Enter</i> Gluttony.</p>
<p><i>Fau.</i> What art thou the Fifth?</p>
<p><i>Glut.</i> I am <i>Gluttony</i>; begot by a Plow-man on a Washer-woman,
who devour'd a <i>Chedder</i> Cheese in two Hours. I
am of a Royal Pedigree: My Grand-father was a Sur-loin of
Beef, and my Mother a Gammon of Bacon: My Sisters were
Sows, which supply'd me with Pork: My Brothers were
Calves, which afforded me Veal: My God-fathers were
<i>Peter</i> Pickled-Herring, and <i>Michael</i> Milk-Porredg: My God-mothers
were <i>Susan</i> Salt-butter, and <i>Margery</i> Sous'd-Hog's-Face.
Now, <i>Faustus</i>, thou hast heard my Pedigree, wilt
thou invite me to Supper?</p>
<p><i>Fau.</i> Not I.</p>
<p><i>Glut.</i> Then the Devil choak thee.</p>
<p><i>Enter</i> Sloth.</p>
<p><i>Fau.</i> What art thou the Sixth?</p>
<p><i>Slo.</i> Hey ho! I am <i>Sloth</i>; I was begotten at Church by
a sleepy Judg on a Costermonger's Wife, in the middle of a
long Sermon. I am as Lazy as a Fishmonger in the Dog-days,
or a Parson in <i>Lent</i>: I would not speak another Word
for a King's Ransom.</p>
<p><i>Enter</i> Leachery.</p>
<p><i>Fau.</i> And what are you, Mr. <i>Minks</i>, the Seventh and last?</p>
<p><i>Leach.</i> I am one that love an Inch of Raw Mutton better<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</SPAN></span>
than an Ell of Fry'd Stock-fish, and the first Letter of my
Name begins with <i>Leachery</i>. [<i>Exit.</i></p>
<p><i>Fau.</i> This Sight delights my Soul.</p>
<p><i>Luc.</i> <i>Faustus</i> in Hell are all manner of Delights.</p>
<p><i>Fau.</i> O might I see Hell once, and return safe.</p>
<p><i>Luc.</i><i> Faustus</i>, thou shalt; give me thy hand.
Hence let's descend, and we will <i>Faustus</i> show
The mighty Pleasures in the World below. [<i>Vanishes.</i></p>
<p>SCENE <i>Changes</i>.</p>
<p><i>Enter</i> Harlequin, <i>and</i> Scaramouche <i>in the Doctor's Gown;
a Wand, and a Circle</i>.</p>
<p><i>Scar.</i> So, now am I in my <i>Pontificalibus</i>: Now can I shew
my Black Art; for I have found that heavenly Book which
<i>Faustus</i> used to raise the Dead in: Come, stand within this
Circle.</p>
<p><i>Har.</i> 'Tis time to Conjure, for I am almost famish'd. We
have fasted like Priests for a Miracle.</p>
<p><i>Scar.</i> I'll make thee amends presently; I'll conjure up a
Spirit, ask what thou wilt thou shalt have it.</p>
<p><i>Har.</i> Let me alone for asking.</p>
<p><i>Scar.</i> Be very earnest with him, and intreat mightily.</p>
<p><i>Har.</i> I'll intreat Earnestly.</p>
<p><i>Scar.</i> Silence. <i>Sint mihi Dii Acherontis propitii Nobis
Diccatus Mephostopholis, &c.</i></p>
<p>Mephostopholis <i>rises</i>.</p>
<p><i>Meph.</i> How am I tortur'd by these Villains Charms?<br/>
From <i>Constantinople</i> have they brought me now,<br/>
Only for Measure of these idle Slaves? What<br/>
Would you with <i>Mephostopholis</i>?<br/></p>
<p><i>Scar.</i> Wee'd know how Dr. <i>Faustus</i> does.</p>
<p><i>Meph.</i> Well.</p>
<p><i>Scar.</i> When comes he home?</p>
<p><i>Meph.</i> Within Two Days.</p>
<p><i>Scar.</i> What was he doing when you left him?</p>
<p><i>Meph.</i> He was at Supper, eating good Chear.</p>
<p><i>Har.</i> Good Mr. Devil, tell him we are almost starv'd;
and desire him to send us some of his good Chear.</p>
<p><i>Meph.</i> Is that all?<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</SPAN></span></p>
<p><i>Har.</i> Some Wine too?</p>
<p><i>Meph.</i> What else.</p>
<p><i>Har.</i> What else: Why if Fornication been't against your
Commandments, we would have some live Flesh; a handsom
Wench.</p>
<p><i>Scar.</i> Only for a third Person, and please your Damnation.</p>
<p><i>Meph.</i> You shall have your Desires.</p>
<p><i>Har.</i> 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 <i>Smithfield</i>, and want no whetting.</p>
<p><i>Meph.</i> You shall.</p>
<p>Scaramouche <i>and</i> Harlequin <i>pull off their Caps</i>.</p>
<p>Now if your mighty Darkness would please to Retire.</p>
<p><i>Meph.</i> Farewell. [<i>Vanish.</i></p>
<p>Scaramouche <i>steps out of the Circle, and struts about</i>.</p>
<p><i>Scar.</i> Now how do you like my Art?</p>
<p><i>Har.</i> O rare Art! O divine Mr. Doctor <i>Scaramouche</i>! 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.</p>
<p><i>A Giant rises.</i></p>
<p>Ha! What's here?</p>
<p><i>Gi.</i> I am sent by <i>Pluto</i> to bear you Company.</p>
<p><i>Har.</i> Is this his third Person? Or is it Three Generations
in One? Come you from <i>Guild-hall</i>, Sir?</p>
<p><i>Gi.</i> No, Mortal, from the <i>Stygian</i> Lake. I am the Giant
which St. <i>George</i> destroy'd; and in the Earth have been decaying
ever since, but now am come to Eat with you.</p>
<p><i>Scar.</i> To pick up your Crums, Sir: You'r heartily Welcome.</p>
<p>Scaramouche <i>gets upon</i> Harlequin, <i>and salutes him</i>.</p>
<p><i>Gi.</i> I have lain now within the <i>Stygian</i> Lake 2000 Years.</p>
<p><i>Scar.</i> Your Honour is not much shrunk in the Wetting.</p>
<p><i>Gi.</i> But we loose Time, and Dinner cools.</p>
<p><i>Har.</i> Where is it?</p>
<p><i>Gi.</i> In the next Room.</p>
<p><i>Scar.</i> Will it please your Lustiness to lead the Way?</p>
<p><i>Har.</i> Will it please you then to make way for him?</p>
<p><i>Gi.</i> I can divide my self to serve my Friends?</p>
<p>[<i>Giant leaps in two.</i></p>
<p>Breeches be you my Page, and follow me.</p>
<p>Harleq. <i>and</i> Scaram. <i>complement the Breeches</i>. [<i>Exeunt.</i><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>SCENE <i>draws, and discovers a Table furnished with
Bottles of Wine, and a Venison Pasty, a Pot of wild
Fowl</i>, &c.</p>
<p><i>Enter</i> Scaramouche, Giant, <i>and</i> Harlequin.</p>
<p><i>Har.</i> O heavenly Apparition!</p>
<p><i>Scar.</i> Come, let's sit down.</p>
<p><i>The upper part of the Giant flies up, and the under sinks,
and discovers a Woman in the Room.</i></p>
<p>Harlequin <i>and</i> Scaramouche <i>start</i>.</p>
<p><i>Scar.</i> Ha! What's here, a Woman?</p>
<p><i>Har.</i> O happy Change! Madam, with your good Leave.</p>
<p>[<i>Kisses.</i></p>
<p><i>Scar.</i> Never too late in good Breeding. [<i>Kisses.</i>] Rare
Wench! And as Luscious as Pig-sauce.</p>
<p><i>Har.</i> Heav'n be prais'd for all.</p>
<p>[<i>Woman sinks, a Flash of Lightning.</i></p>
<p><i>Scar.</i> Your unseasonable Thankfulness has rob'd us of our
Strumpet.</p>
<p><i>Har.</i> No matter, no matter; we shall meet her in the
Cloisters after the Fair. Come let's fall too.</p>
<p>[<i>They put their Caps before their Faces.</i></p>
<p>Ha!</p>
<p><i>Scar.</i> The Table runs away from us.</p>
<p><i>Har.</i> We'll bestow the Pains to follow it again; this I see
is a running Banquet.</p>
<p>[<i>They put their Caps on again, the Table removes.</i></p>
<p><i>Scar.</i> I have found the Secret: We must not say Grace at
the Devil's Feast.</p>
<p><i>Har.</i> Come then let's fall too, <i>San's</i> Ceremony; Will you
be Carver?</p>
<p><i>Scar.</i> Every one for himself, I say.</p>
<p><i>Har.</i> Ay, every one for himself, and God for us all.</p>
<p>[<i>Table flies up into the Air.</i></p>
<p><i>Scar.</i> A Plague o'your Proverb; it has a Word in't must
not be named.</p>
<p><i>Har.</i> Ah, Mr. Doctor, do but intreat Mr. <i>Mephostopholis</i><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</SPAN></span>
to let the Table down to us, or send us to that, and I'll be his
Servant as long as I live. [<i>They are hoisted up to the Table.</i></p>
<p><i>Scar. and Har.</i> Oh, oh, oh.</p>
<p><i>Scar.</i> Now have a care of another Proverb:
We go without our Supper.</p>
<p><i>Har.</i> Nay, now I know the Devil's Humour, I'll hit him
to a Hair: Pray, Mr. Doctor, cut up that Pasty.</p>
<p><i>Scar.</i> I can't get my Knife into it, 'tis over-bak'd.</p>
<p><i>Har.</i> Ay, 'tis often so: God sends Meat, and the Devil
sends Cooks. [<i>Table flies down.</i></p>
<p><i>Scar.</i> Thou Varlet, dost thou see what thy Proverb has done?</p>
<p><i>Har.</i> Now could I curse my Grand-mother, for she taught
'em me: Well, if sweet <i>Mephostopholis</i> 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.</p>
<p>[<i>They are let down to the Table.</i></p>
<p><i>Scar.</i> Your Prayers are heard, now be careful; for if I
lose my Supper by thy Negligence I'll cut thy Throat.</p>
<p><i>Har.</i> 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.</p>
<p>[Harlequin <i>takes off the Lid of the Pasty, and a Stag's Head
peeps out; and out of the Pot of Fowl flies Birds</i>. Harlequin
<i>and</i> Scaramouche <i>start back, fall over their
Chairs, and get up</i>.</p>
<p><i>Har.</i> 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.</p>
<p><i>Scar.</i> Fetch it in; Bread, Wine, and a Salad may serve
for a Collation.</p>
<p><i>Enter</i> Harlequin <i>with a Tray of Sallad</i>.</p>
<p><i>Har.</i> Come, no Ceremony among Friends. <i>Bon. fro.</i></p>
<p><i>Scar.</i> <i>Sallad mal adjuste</i>; here's neither Fat nor Lean.</p>
<p><i>Har.</i> O Mr. Doctor, neither Fat nor Lean in a Sallad.</p>
<p><i>Scar.</i> Neither Oyl, nor Vinegar.</p>
<p><i>Har.</i> Oh! I'll fetch you that presently.</p>
<p>[Harlequin <i>fetches a Chamber-pot of Piss, and a Lamp
of Oyl, and pours on the Sallad</i>.</p>
<p><i>Scar.</i> O thy Sallad is nothing but Thistles and Netles; and
thy Oyl stinks worse than <i>Arsefetito</i>.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</SPAN></span></p>
<p><i>Har.</i> Bread and Wine be our Fare. Ha! the Bread's
alive. [<i>Bread stirs.</i></p>
<p><i>Scar.</i> Or the Devil's in't. Hey! again. [<i>Bread sinks.</i></p>
<p><i>Har.</i> My Belly's as empty as a Beggar's Purse.</p>
<p><i>Scar.</i> And mine as full of Wind as a Trumpeter's Cheeks.</p>
<p>[<i>Table sinks, and Flash of Lightning.</i></p>
<p>But since we can't Eat, let's Drink: Come, here's Dr. <i>Faustus</i>'s
Health.</p>
<p><i>Har.</i> Ay, come; God bless Dr. <i>Faustus</i>.</p>
<p>[<i>Bottles fly up, and the Table sinks.</i></p>
<p><i>Scar.</i> What all gone: Here's a Banquet stole away like
a City Feast. [<i>Musick.</i></p>
<p><i>Har.</i> Ha! here's Musick to delight us.</p>
<p>[<i>Two Chairs rises.</i> Harlequin <i>and</i> Scaramouche <i>sits
down, and are caught fast</i>.</p>
<p><i>Scar.</i> Ha! the Devil. We are lock'd in.</p>
<p><i>Har.</i> As fast as a Counter Rat.</p>
<p><i>Enter several Devils, who black</i> Harlequin <i>and</i> Scaramouche's
<i>Faces, and then squirt Milk upon them</i>. <i>After the Dance
they both sink.</i></p>
<p><i>Scar. and Har.</i> O' o, o'——</p>
<p><i>The End of the Second Act.</i></p>
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