Scene VII
Enter Chorus. | |
Chorus |
Learned Faustus,
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Exit. | |
Enter Faustus and Mephistopheles.45 | |
Faustus |
Having now, my good Mephistopheles,
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Mephistopheles | Faustus, I have; and because we will not be unprovided, have taken up his Holiness’ privy-chamber for our use. |
Faustus | I hope his Holiness will bid us welcome. |
Mephistopheles |
Tut, ’tis no matter, man, we’ll be bold with his good cheer.
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Faustus |
Now by the kingdoms of infernal rule,
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Mephistopheles |
Nay, Faustus, stay; I know you’d fain see the Pope,
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Faustus |
Well, I’m content to compass then some sport,
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Mephistopheles charms him. | |
Mephistopheles |
So, Faustus; now
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Sound a sonnet.52 Enter the Pope and the Cardinal of Lorrain to the banquet, with Friars attending. | |
Pope | My Lord of Lorrain, wilt please you draw near? |
Faustus | Fall to, and the devil choke you an you spare! |
Pope | How now! Who’s that which spake?—Friars, look about. |
First Friar | Here’s nobody, if it like your Holiness. |
Pope | My lord, here is a dainty dish was sent me from the Bishop Milan. |
Faustus | I thank you, sir. Snatches the dish. |
Pope | How now! Who’s that which snatched the meat from me? Will no man look? My lord, this dish was sent me from the Cardinal of Florence. |
Faustus | You say true; I’ll ha’t. Snatches the dish. |
Pope | What, again! My lord, I’ll drink to your grace. |
Faustus | I’ll pledge your grace. Snatches the cup. |
Cardinal of Lorrain | My lord, it may be some ghost, newly crept out of purgatory, come to beg a pardon of your Holiness. |
Pope | It may be so. Friars, prepare a dirge to lay the fury of this ghost. Once again, my lord, fall to. The Pope crosses himself. |
Faustus | What, are you crossing of yourself? Well, use that trick no more I would advise you. |
The Pope crosses himself again. | |
Well, there’s the second time. Aware the third; I give you fair warning. | |
The Pope crosses himself again, and Faustus hits him a box of the ear; and they all run away. | |
Come on, Mephistopheles; what shall we do? | |
Mephistopheles | Nay, I know not. We shall be cursed with bell, book, and candle. |
Faustus |
How! bell, book, and candle—candle, book, and bell,
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Re-enter the Friars to sing the Dirge. | |
1st Friar | Come, brethren, let’s about our business with good devotion. |
They sing. | |
Cursed be he that stole away his Holiness’ meat from the table! Maledicat Dominus!
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Mephistopheles and Faustus beat the Friars, and fling fireworks among them: and so exeunt. |