Part 11

MEPHIST. Nay, Faustus, stay: I know you'd fain see the Pope, And take some part of holy Peter's feast, Where thou shalt see a troop of bald-pate friars, Whose summum bonum is in belly-cheer.

FAUSTUS. Well, I'm content to compass then some sport, And by their folly make us merriment. Then charm me, that I May be invisible, to do what I please, Unseen of any whilst I stay in Rome. [Mephistophilis charms him.]

MEPHIST. So, Faustus; now Do what thou wilt, thou shalt not be discern'd.

Sound a Sonnet. Enter the POPE and the CARDINAL OF LORRAIN to the banquet, with FRIARS attending.

POPE. My Lord of Lorrain, will't 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 of 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.]

C. OF LOR. 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, Mephistophilis; what shall we do?

MEPHIST. Nay, I know not: we shall be cursed with bell, book, and candle.

FAUSTUS. How! bell, book, and candle,--candle, book, and bell,-- Forward and backward, to curse Faustus to hell! Anon you shall hear a hog grunt, a calf bleat, and an ass bray, Because it is Saint Peter's holiday.

Re-enter all the FRIARS to sing the Dirge.

FIRST 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! CURSED BE HE THAT STRUCK HIS HOLINESS A BLOW ON THE FACE! maledicat Dominus! CURSED BE HE THAT TOOK FRIAR SANDELO A BLOW ON THE PATE! maledicat Dominus! CURSED BE HE THAT DISTURBETH OUR HOLY DIRGE! maledicat Dominus! CURSED BE HE THAT TOOK AWAY HIS HOLINESS' WINE! maledicat Dominus? ['?' sic] Et omnes Sancti! Amen!

Enter CHORUS.

CHORUS. When Faustus had with pleasure ta'en the view Of rarest things, and royal courts of kings, He stay'd his course, and so returned home; Where such as bear his absence but with grief, I mean his friends and near'st companions, Did gratulate his safety with kind words, And in their conference of what befell, Touching his journey through the world and air, They put forth questions of astrology, Which Faustus answer'd with such learned skill As they admir'd and wonder'd at his wit. Now is his fame spread forth in every land: Amongst the rest the Emperor is one, Carolus the Fifth, at whose palace now Faustus is feasted 'mongst his noblemen. What there he did, in trial of his art, I leave untold; your eyes shall see['t] perform'd. [Exit.]

Enter ROBIN the Ostler, with a book in his hand.