Kitabı oku: «The Life and Death of Doctor Faustus Made into a Farce», sayfa 4

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 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 Tissue? What must you sit, and I stand? Rise up Brute.

Fau. Go, thou art a proud Slut indeed. [Exit.

Enter Covetousness.

Now what art thou the Second.

Cov. I am Covetousness; 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.

Fau. What wert thou on Earth?

Cov. 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 Smithfield too hot to hold me, and rid Post to the Devil? Give me some Gold, Father? [Exit.

Enter Envy.

Fau. What art thou the Third?

Env. I am Envy; 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.

Enter Wrath.

Fau. Out, Envious Wretch. What art thou the Fourth?

Wra. I am Wrath; 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 Scotch Pedlar. [Exit.

Enter Gluttony.

Fau. What art thou the Fifth?

Glut. I am Gluttony; begot by a Plow-man on a Washer-woman, who devour'd a Chedder 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 Peter Pickled-Herring, and Michael Milk-Porredg: My God-mothers were Susan Salt-butter, and Margery Sous'd-Hog's-Face. Now, Faustus, thou hast heard my Pedigree, wilt thou invite me to Supper?

Fau. Not I.

Glut. Then the Devil choak thee.

Enter Sloth.

Fau. What art thou the Sixth?

Slo. Hey ho! I am Sloth; 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 Lent: I would not speak another Word for a King's Ransom.

Enter Leachery.

Fau. And what are you, Mr. Minks, the Seventh and last?

Leach. I am one that love an Inch of Raw Mutton better than an Ell of Fry'd Stock-fish, and the first Letter of my Name begins with Leachery. [Exit.

Fau. This Sight delights my Soul.

Luc. Faustus in Hell are all manner of Delights.

Fau. O might I see Hell once, and return safe.

Luc. Faustus, thou shalt; give me thy hand. Hence let's descend, and we will Faustus show The mighty Pleasures in the World below. [Vanishes.

SCENE Changes.

Enter Harlequin, and Scaramouche in the Doctor's Gown; a Wand, and a Circle.

Scar. So, now am I in my Pontificalibus: Now can I shew my Black Art; for I have found that heavenly Book which Faustus used to raise the Dead in: Come, stand within this Circle.

Har. 'Tis time to Conjure, for I am almost famish'd. We have fasted like Priests for a Miracle.

Scar. I'll make thee amends presently; I'll conjure up a Spirit, ask what thou wilt thou shalt have it.

Har. Let me alone for asking.

Scar. Be very earnest with him, and intreat mightily.

Har. I'll intreat Earnestly.

Scar. Silence. Sint mihi Dii Acherontis propitii Nobis Diccatus Mephostopholis, &c.

Mephostopholis rises.

 
Meph. How am I tortur'd by these Villains Charms?
From Constantinople have they brought me now,
Only for Measure of these idle Slaves? What
Would you with Mephostopholis?
 

Scar. Wee'd know how Dr. Faustus does.

Meph. Well.

Scar. When comes he home?

Meph. Within Two Days.

Scar. What was he doing when you left him?

Meph. He was at Supper, eating good Chear.

Har. Good Mr. Devil, tell him we are almost starv'd; and desire him to send us some of his good Chear.

Meph. Is that all?

Har. Some Wine too?

Meph. What else.

Har. What else: Why if Fornication been't against your Commandments, we would have some live Flesh; a handsom Wench.

Scar. Only for a third Person, and please your Damnation.

Meph. You shall have your Desires.

Har. 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 Smithfield, and want no whetting.

Meph. You shall.

Scaramouche and Harlequin pull off their Caps.

Now if your mighty Darkness would please to Retire.

Meph. Farewell. [Vanish.

Scaramouche steps out of the Circle, and struts about.

Scar. Now how do you like my Art?

Har. O rare Art! O divine Mr. Doctor Scaramouche! 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.

A Giant rises.

Ha! What's here?

Gi. I am sent by Pluto to bear you Company.

Har. Is this his third Person? Or is it Three Generations in One? Come you from Guild-hall, Sir?

Gi. No, Mortal, from the Stygian Lake. I am the Giant which St. George destroy'd; and in the Earth have been decaying ever since, but now am come to Eat with you.

Scar. To pick up your Crums, Sir: You'r heartily Welcome.

Scaramouche gets upon Harlequin, and salutes him.

Gi. I have lain now within the Stygian Lake 2000 Years.

Scar. Your Honour is not much shrunk in the Wetting.

Gi. But we loose Time, and Dinner cools.

Har. Where is it?

Gi. In the next Room.

Scar. Will it please your Lustiness to lead the Way?

Har. Will it please you then to make way for him?

Gi. I can divide my self to serve my Friends?

[Giant leaps in two.

Breeches be you my Page, and follow me.

Harleq. and Scaram. complement the Breeches. [Exeunt.

SCENE draws, and discovers a Table furnished with Bottles of Wine, and a Venison Pasty, a Pot of wild Fowl, &c.

Enter Scaramouche, Giant, and Harlequin.

Har. O heavenly Apparition!

Scar. Come, let's sit down.

The upper part of the Giant flies up, and the under sinks, and discovers a Woman in the Room.

Harlequin and Scaramouche start.

Scar. Ha! What's here, a Woman?

Har. O happy Change! Madam, with your good Leave.

[Kisses.

Scar. Never too late in good Breeding. [Kisses.] Rare Wench! And as Luscious as Pig-sauce.

Har. Heav'n be prais'd for all.

[Woman sinks, a Flash of Lightning.

Scar. Your unseasonable Thankfulness has rob'd us of our Strumpet.

Har. No matter, no matter; we shall meet her in the Cloisters after the Fair. Come let's fall too.

[They put their Caps before their Faces.

Ha!

Scar. The Table runs away from us.

Har. We'll bestow the Pains to follow it again; this I see is a running Banquet.

[They put their Caps on again, the Table removes.

Scar. I have found the Secret: We must not say Grace at the Devil's Feast.

Har. Come then let's fall too, San's Ceremony; Will you be Carver?

Scar. Every one for himself, I say.

Har. Ay, every one for himself, and God for us all.

[Table flies up into the Air.

Scar. A Plague o'your Proverb; it has a Word in't must not be named.

Har. Ah, Mr. Doctor, do but intreat Mr. Mephostopholis to let the Table down to us, or send us to that, and I'll be his Servant as long as I live. [They are hoisted up to the Table.

Scar. and Har. Oh, oh, oh.

Scar. Now have a care of another Proverb: We go without our Supper.

Har. Nay, now I know the Devil's Humour, I'll hit him to a Hair: Pray, Mr. Doctor, cut up that Pasty.

Scar. I can't get my Knife into it, 'tis over-bak'd.

Har. Ay, 'tis often so: God sends Meat, and the Devil sends Cooks. [Table flies down.

Scar. Thou Varlet, dost thou see what thy Proverb has done?

Har. Now could I curse my Grand-mother, for she taught 'em me: Well, if sweet Mephostopholis 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.

[They are let down to the Table.

Scar. Your Prayers are heard, now be careful; for if I lose my Supper by thy Negligence I'll cut thy Throat.

Har. 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.

[Harlequin takes off the Lid of the Pasty, and a Stag's Head peeps out; and out of the Pot of Fowl flies Birds. Harlequin and Scaramouche start back, fall over their Chairs, and get up.

Har. 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.

Scar. Fetch it in; Bread, Wine, and a Salad may serve for a Collation.

Enter Harlequin with a Tray of Sallad.

Har. Come, no Ceremony among Friends. Bon. fro.

Scar. Sallad mal adjuste; here's neither Fat nor Lean.

Har. O Mr. Doctor, neither Fat nor Lean in a Sallad.

Scar. Neither Oyl, nor Vinegar.

Har. Oh! I'll fetch you that presently.

[Harlequin fetches a Chamber-pot of Piss, and a Lamp of Oyl, and pours on the Sallad.

Scar. O thy Sallad is nothing but Thistles and Netles; and thy Oyl stinks worse than Arsefetito.

Har. Bread and Wine be our Fare. Ha! the Bread's alive. [Bread stirs.

Scar. Or the Devil's in't. Hey! again. [Bread sinks.

Har. My Belly's as empty as a Beggar's Purse.

Scar. And mine as full of Wind as a Trumpeter's Cheeks.

[Table sinks, and Flash of Lightning.

But since we can't Eat, let's Drink: Come, here's Dr. Faustus's Health.