_Faustus_. Should I not be performing a noble part, if, like unto another Hercules, I were to roam the world, and purge its thrones of such monsters? _Devil_. Short-sighted man, does not your own corrupt nature prove that you must have these kings? And would not new monsters arise out of their ashes? There would then be no end of murder; the people would be divided, and thousands would fall the victims of civil war. You see here millions of bipeds like yourself, who suffer a man like themselves to despoil them of their property, to flay them alive, and to murder them at his pleasure. Did not they witness the execution of this duke, who died innocent as any lamb? Did they not gaze with pleasure, mingled with agony and grief, upon the tragic spectacle? Does not that prove they deserve their lot, and are unworthy of a better? Could they not crush the tyrant at a blow? If they have the power of relieving themselves in their own hands, wherefore should we pity their sufferings? Here the disputation ceased. Faustus shortly afterwards became acquainted with a gentleman of sense and education, who had an excellent character for probity. Faustus and the Devil pleased him so much, that he invited them to come and pass some days with him on his estate at a short distance from Paris, where he lived with his family, which consisted of his wife and his daughter, who was about sixteen years old, and lovely as an angel. At the sight of this divine object Faustus was like one enchanted, and felt, for the first time, the sweet torments of delicate love. He confided his sufferings to the Devil, who instantly offered to assist him, and laughed at the pretended delicacy of his sentiments. Faustus owned that it was repugnant to his feelings to violate the laws of hospitality. The Devil replied: "Well, Faustus, if you wish to have the gentleman's consent, I will engage to procure it. For what do you take him?" _Faustus_. For an honest man. _Devil_. It is a great pity, O Faustus, that you are so liable to deception. And so you really believe him to be an honest man! I admit that all Paris is of the same opinion. What do you think he loves best in the world? _Faustus_. His daughter. _Devil_. I know something which he loves more. _Faustus_. And what is that? _Devil_. Gold; and you ought to have seen that long ago. But since I have been obliged to open to thee the treasures of the earth, and thou hast had them at thy disposal, thou hast resembled the torrent which inundates the fields, caring very little where its waters flow, or where they are received. How much hast thou lost at play with this gentleman? _Faustus_. Let them reckon who care more for the dross than I. _Devil_. He who tricked you can tell to a ducat. _Faustus_. Tricked!