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Doctor Faustus
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Act IV, Scene iii

MARTINO. Nay, sweet Benvolio, let us sway<174> thy thoughts
>From this attempt against the conjurer.<175>
BENVOLIO. Away! you love me not, to urge me thus:
Shall I let slip so great an injury,
When every servile groom jests at my wrongs,
And in their rustic gambols proudly say,
"Benvolio's head was grac'd with horns today?"
O, may these eyelids never close again,
Till with my sword I have that<176> conjurer slain!
If you will aid me in this enterprise,
Then draw your weapons and be resolute;
If not, depart: here will Benvolio die,
But Faustus' death shall quit my<177> infamy.
FREDERICK. Nay, we will stay with thee, betide what may,
And kill that<178> doctor, if he come this way.
BENVOLIO. Then, gentle Frederick, hie thee to the grove,
And place our servants and our followers
Close in an<179> ambush there behind the trees.
By this, I know the conjurer is near:
I saw him kneel, and kiss the Emperor's hand,
And take his leave, laden with rich rewards.
Then, soldiers, boldly<180> fight: if Faustus die,
Take you the wealth, leave us the victory.
FREDERICK. Come, soldiers, follow me unto the grove:
Who kills him shall have gold and endless love.
BENVOLIO. My head is lighter, than it was, by the horns;
But yet my heart's<181> more ponderous than my head,
And pants until I see that<182> conjurer dead.
MARTINO. Where shall we place ourselves, Benvolio?
BENVOLIO. Here will we stay to bide the first assault:
O, were that damned hell-hound but in place,
Thou soon shouldst see me quit my foul disgrace!
Re-enter FREDERICK.:
FREDERICK. Close, close! the conjurer is at hand,
And all alone comes walking in his gown;
Be ready, then, and strike the<183> peasant down.
BENVOLIO. Mine be that honour, then. Now, sword, strike home!
For horns he gave I'll have his head anon.
MARTINO. See, see, he comes!
Enter FAUSTUS with a false head.:
BENVOLIO. No words. This blow ends all:
Hell take his soul! his body thus must fall.
[Stabs FAUSTUS.]
FREDERICK. Groan you, Master Doctor?
BENVOLIO. Break may his heart with groans!—Dear Frederick, see,
Thus will I end his griefs immediately.
MARTINO. Strike with a willing hand.
[BENVOLIO strikes off FAUSTUS' head.]
His head is off.
BENVOLIO. The devil's dead; the Furies now<184> may laugh.
FREDERICK. Was this that stern aspect, that awful frown,
Made the grim monarch of infernal spirits
Tremble and quake at his commanding charms?
MARTINO. Was this that damned head, whose art<185> conspir'd
Benvolio's shame before the Emperor?
BENVOLIO. Ay, that's the head, and there<186> the body lies,
Justly rewarded for his villanies.
FREDERICK. Come, let's devise how we may add more shame
To the black scandal of his hated name.
BENVOLIO. First, on his head, in quittance of my wrongs,
I'll nail huge forked horns, and let them hang
Within the window where he yok'd me first,
That all the world may see my just revenge.
MARTINO. What use shall we put his beard to?
BENVOLIO. We'll sell it to a chimney-sweeper: it will wear out
ten birchen brooms, I warrant you.
FREDERICK. What shall his<187> eyes do?
BENVOLIO. We'll pull<188> out his eyes; and they shall serve for
buttons to his lips, to keep his tongue from catching cold.
MARTINO. An excellent policy! and now, sirs, having divided him,
what shall the body do?
[FAUSTUS rises.]
BENVOLIO. Zounds, the devil's alive again!
FREDERICK. Give him his head, for God's sake.
FAUSTUS. Nay, keep it: Faustus will have heads and hands,
Ay, all<189> your hearts to recompense this deed.
Knew you not, traitors, I was limited
For four-and-twenty years to breathe on earth?
And, had you cut my body with your swords,
Or hew'd this flesh and bones as small as sand,
Yet in a minute had my spirit return'd,
And I had breath'd a man, made free from harm.
But wherefore do I dally my revenge?—
Asteroth, Belimoth, Mephistophilis?
Enter MEPHISTOPHILIS, and other Devils.
Go, horse these traitors on your fiery backs,
And mount aloft with them as high as heaven:
Thence pitch them headlong to the lowest hell.
Yet, stay: the world shall see their misery,
And hell shall after plague their treachery.
Go, Belimoth, and take this caitiff hence,
And hurl him in some lake of mud and dirt.
Take thou this other, drag him through<190> the woods
Amongst<191> the pricking thorns and sharpest briers;
Whilst, with my gentle Mephistophilis,
This traitor flies unto some steepy rock,
That, rolling down, may break the villain's bones,
As he intended to dismember me.
Fly hence; despatch my charge immediately.
FREDERICK. Pity us, gentle Faustus! save our lives!
FREDERICK. He must needs go that the devil drives.
Enter the ambushed SOLDIERS.<192>
FIRST SOLDIER. Come, sirs, prepare yourselves in readiness;
Make haste to help these noble gentlemen:
I heard them parley with the conjurer.
SECOND SOLDIER. See, where he comes! despatch and kill the slave.
FAUSTUS. What's here? an ambush to betray my life!
Then, Faustus, try thy skill.—Base peasants, stand!
For, lo, these<193> trees remove at my command,
And stand as bulwarks 'twixt yourselves and me,
To shield me from your hated treachery!
Yet, to encounter this your weak attempt,
Behold, an army comes incontinent!
[FAUSTUS strikes the door,<194> and enter a DEVIL playing on a drum; after him another, bearing an ensign; and divers with weapons; MEPHISTOPHILIS with fire-works. They set upon the SOLDIERS, drive them out, and exeunt.]
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