Why sighs my Mephostopholis, I think Hell's a meer Fable.

Meph. Ay, think so still.

Faust. Tell me who made the World?

Meph. I will not.

Faust. Sweet Mephos.

Meph. Move me no further.

Faust. Villain, have I not bound thee to tell me any Thing.

Meph. That's not against our Kingdom, this is: Thou art
Lost; think thou of Hell.

Faust. Think, Faustus, upon him that made the World.

Meph. Remember this. [Sinks.

Faust. Ay, go accursed Spirit to ugly Hell,
'Tis thou hast damn'd distressed Faustus Soul:
'Tis thou hast damn'd distressed Faustus Soul:
I will Repent: Ha! [Goes to his Books.
This Bible's fast, but here's another:

[They both fly out of's Hand, and a flaming Thing appears written, &c.

Is't not too late? [Ring. Good and bad descend.

Bad An. Too late.

Good An. Never too late, if Faustus will repent.

Bad An. Faustus, behold, behold thy Deed; if thou repent
Devils will tear thee in Pieces.

Good An. Repent, and they shall never raze thy Skin.

[Scene shuts, Ang. ascends.

Scene changes to the Street. Enter Harlequin.

Harl. This must be Mr. Doctor's House; I'll make bold to knock: My Heart fails me already.

[Harlequin opens the Door, peeps about, and shuts it.

I begin to tremble at the Thoughts of seeing the Devil.

[Knocks again.

Here's a great Resort of Devils, the very Doors smell of
Brimstone: I'll e'en back——No: I'll be a Man of Resolution:
But if Mr. Doctor should send a Familiar to open the
Door, in what language should I speak to the Devil? [Knocks.

Enter Scaramouche.

Scar. peeping. This is some malicious Spirit, that will not let me alone at my Study; but I'll go in, and conn my Book. [Exit.

Harl. I believe Mr. Doctor is very Busy; but I'll rap this time with Authority.

[Harlequin raps at the Door, Scaramouche peeps out. Harlequin strikes him, and jumps back, runs frighted off.

Scene changes to a Room in the Doctor's House.

Enter Scaramouche, with a Book in the Doctor's Gown.

Scar. I have left the Door open to save the Devil the labour of Knocking, if he has a mind to come in: For I am resolved not to stir from my Book; I found it in the Doctor's Closet, and know it must contain Something of the Black Art.

Enter Harlequin.

Harl. Oh here's Mr. Doctor himself; he's reading some conjuring Book. Ide fain jecit.

Scar. This must be a conjuring Book by the hard Words. AB, EB, IB, OB, UB, BA, BO, BU, BI.

Harl. Its a Child's Primer. [Harlequin looks over him.

Scar. The Devil, the Devil; be gon, avoid Satan. [Runs off.

Harl. O the Devil! Now will I lye as if I were Dead, and let the Devil go hunt for my Soul. [Lyes down.

Enter Scaramouche.

Scar. I have learn'd to raise the Devil, but how the Devil shall I do to lay him. Ha! what's here, a dead Body? The Devil assum'd this Body, and when I began to mutter my Prayers, he was in such haste he left his Carcass behind him. Ha! it stirs; no, 'twas but my Fancy.

[Scaram. lifts up all his Limbs, and lets 'em fall, whil'st Harl. hits him on the Breech, lifts his Head, which falls gently.

All's dead but's Head. [Sets him upright.
The Devil, the Devil! Be gon; what art thou?

Harl. A poor unfortunate Devil.

Scar. The Devil; Avant then Hagon mogon strogon.

Harl. O good Mr. Doctor, conjure up no more Devils and I'll be gon, or any thing.—I came only to ask your Black Artship a Question.

Scar. No, this is not the Devil. Who art thou? Whence comest thou? What's thy Business, Quick, or Hogon strogon?

Harl. Hold, hold, hold, I am poor Harlequin: By the Learned I am called Zane, by the Vulgar Jack Pudding. I was late Fool to a Mountebank; and last Night, in the mistaking the Pipkin, I eat up a Pot of Bolus instead of Hasty Pudding; and devour'd Three Yards of Diaculum Plaister instead of Pancake, for which my Master has turn'd me out of Doors instead of Wages: Therefore, to be reveng'd, I come to hire a Devil or two of you, Mr. Doctor, of a strong Constitution, that may swallow up his Turpentine Pills as fast as he makes 'em, that he may never cure poor Whore more of a Clap; and then he'll be undone, for they are his chief Patients.

Scar. What Practice has he?

Harl. Why his Business is to patch up rotten Whores against the Term for Country Lawyers, and Attorneys Clerks; and against Christmas, Easter and Whitsun Holidays, for City Apprentices; and if his Pills be destroy'd, 'twill ruin him in one Term.

Scar. Come in; and for a Crown a Week I'll lett thee out a Devil, as they do Horses at Livery, shall swallow him a Peck of Pills a day, though every one were as big as a Pumpkin; and make nothing of a Bolus for a Breakfast.

Harl. O brave Mr. Doctor! O dainty Mr. Devil!

Scar. Seigniora. [Here they Complement who shall go first.

The End of the First Act.

ACT II.

Faustus in his Study.

Good and Bad Angel descend.

Good An. Faustus, Repent; yet Heav'n will pity thee.

Bad An. Thou art a Spirit, Heav'n cannot pity thee.

Fau. 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.

Bad An. Ay, but Faustus never shall repent.

Good An. Sweet Faustus think of Heav'n, and heavenly Things. [Ascends.

Fau. My Heart is hardened, I cannot repent.
Scarce can I name Salvation, Faith, or Heav'n,
But I am pinch'd, and prick'd, in thousand Places.
O help distressed Faustus!

Lucifer, Beelzebub. and Mephostopholis rises.

Luc. None can afford thee help; for only I have Interest in thee, Faustus.

Fau. Oh! What art thou, that looks so terrible?

Luc. I am Lucifer, and this is my Companion Prince in Hell.

Beel. We are come to tell thee thou dost injure us.

Luc. Thou call'st on Heav'n contrary to thy Promise.

Beel. Thou should'st not think on Heav'n.

Fau. Nor will I henceforth pardon him for this,
And Faustus Vows never to look to Heav'n.

Beel. So shalt thou shew thy self a faithful Servant,
And we will highly gratify thee for it.

Fau. Those Words delight my Soul.

Luc. Faustus, 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.

Fau. That Sight will be as pleasant to my Eye, as Paradise to Adam the first Day of his Creation.

Beel. Talk not of Paradise, but mind the Show. Go, Mephostopholis, and fetch 'em in; and, Faustus, question 'em their Names. Enter Pride.

Fau. What art thou?

Prid. I am Pride; 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