Dr. Faustus (with footnotes) | Page 7

Sirrah, I say in staves-acre.
CLOWN. Oho, oho, staves-acre! why, then, belike, if I were your man,
I should be full of vermin.<70>
WAGNER. So thou shalt, whether thou beest with me or no. But, sirrah,
leave your jesting, and bind yourself presently unto me for seven years,
or I'll turn all the lice about thee into familiars,<71> and they shall tear
thee in pieces.
CLOWN. Do you hear, sir? you may save that labour; they are too
familiar with me already: swowns, they are as bold with my flesh as if
they had paid for their<72> meat and drink.
WAGNER. Well, do you hear, sirrah? hold, take these guilders. [Gives
money.]
CLOWN. Gridirons! what be they?
WAGNER. Why, French crowns.
CLOWN. Mass, but for the name of French crowns, a man were as
good have as many English counters. And what should I do with these?
WAGNER. Why, now, sirrah, thou art at an hour's warning,
whensoever or wheresoever the devil shall fetch thee.
CLOWN. No, no; here, take your gridirons again.
WAGNER. Truly, I'll none of them.
CLOWN. Truly, but you shall.
WAGNER. Bear witness I gave them him.
CLOWN. Bear witness I give them you again.
WAGNER. Well, I will cause two devils presently to fetch thee
away.--Baliol and Belcher!
CLOWN. Let your Baliol and your Belcher come here, and I'll knock
them, they were never so knocked since they were devils: say I should
kill one of them, what would folks say? "Do ye see yonder tall fellow
in the round slop?<73> he has killed the devil." So I should be called
Kill-devil all the parish over.

Enter two DEVILS; and the CLOWN runs up and down crying.
WAGNER. Baliol and Belcher,--spirits, away! [Exeunt DEVILS.]
CLOWN. What, are they gone? a vengeance on them! they have
vile<74> long nails. There was a he-devil and a she-devil: I'll tell you
how you shall know them; all he-devils has horns, and all she-devils
has clifts and cloven feet.
WAGNER. Well, sirrah, follow me.
CLOWN. But, do you hear? if I should serve you, would you teach me
to raise up Banios and Belcheos?
WAGNER. I will teach thee to turn thyself to any thing, to a dog, or a
cat, or a mouse, or a rat, or any thing.
CLOWN. How! a Christian fellow to a dog, or a cat, a mouse, or a rat!
no, no, sir; if you turn me into any thing, let it be in the likeness of a
little pretty frisking flea, that I may be here and there and every where:
O, I'll tickle the pretty wenches' plackets! I'll be amongst them, i'faith.
WAGNER. Well, sirrah, come.
CLOWN. But, do you hear, Wagner?
WAGNER. How!--Baliol and Belcher!
CLOWN. O Lord! I pray, sir, let Banio and Belcher go sleep.
WAGNER. Villain, call me Master Wagner, and let thy left eye be
diametarily fixed upon my right heel, with quasi vestigiis nostris<75>
insistere. [Exit.]
CLOWN. God forgive me, he speaks Dutch fustian. Well, I'll follow
him; I'll serve him, that's flat. [Exit.]
FAUSTUS discovered in his study.
FAUSTUS. Now, Faustus, must Thou needs be damn'd, and canst thou
not be sav'd: What boots it, then, to think of God or heaven? Away with
such vain fancies, and despair; Despair in God, and trust in Belzebub:
Now go not backward; no, Faustus, be resolute: Why waver'st thou? O,
something soundeth in mine ears, "Abjure this magic, turn to God
again!" Ay, and Faustus will turn to God again. To God? he loves thee
not; The god thou serv'st is thine own appetite, Wherein is fix'd the
love of Belzebub: To him I'll build an altar and a church, And offer
lukewarm blood of new-born babes.
Enter GOOD ANGEL and EVIL ANGEL.
GOOD ANGEL. Sweet Faustus, leave that execrable art.
FAUSTUS. Contrition, prayer, repentance--what of them?

GOOD ANGEL. O, they are means to bring thee unto heaven!
EVIL ANGEL. Rather illusions, fruits of lunacy, That make men
foolish that do trust them most.
GOOD ANGEL. Sweet Faustus, think of heaven and heavenly things.
EVIL ANGEL. No, Faustus; think of honour and of<76> wealth.
[Exeunt ANGELS.]
FAUSTUS. Of wealth! Why, the signiory of Embden shall be mine.
When Mephistophilis shall stand by me, What god can hurt thee,
Faustus? thou art safe Cast no more doubts.--Come, Mephistophilis,
And bring glad tidings from great Lucifer;-- Is't not midnight?--come,
Mephistophilis, Veni, veni, Mephistophile!
Enter MEPHISTOPHILIS.
Now tell me<77> what says Lucifer, thy lord?
MEPHIST. That I shall wait on Faustus whilst he lives,<78> So he will
buy my service with his soul.
FAUSTUS. Already Faustus hath hazarded that for thee.
MEPHIST. But, Faustus, thou must bequeath it solemnly, And write a
deed of gift with thine own blood; For that security craves great Lucifer.
If thou deny it, I will