Printed and sold by _E. Whitlock_ near _Stationers_ Hall, (1697) The Life and Death of Dr. FAUSTUS. ACT I. SCENE I. _Dr._ Faustus _seated in his Chair, and reading in his Study_. _Good and bad Angel ready._ _Faust._ Settle thy Study, _Faustus_, and begin To sound the Depth of that thou wilt profess; These Metaphysicks of Magicians, And Negromantick Books, are heav'nly Lines, Circles, Letters, Characters, Ay, these are those that _Faustus_ most desires; A sound Magician is a Demi-God: Here tire my Brains to get a Deity. Mephostopholis _under the Stage_. _A good and bad Angel fly down._ _Good Ang._ O _Faustus_! lay that damn'd Book aside; And gaze not on it, lest it tempt thy heart to blasphemy. _Bad Ang._ Go forward, _Faustus_, in that famous Art Wherein all Natures Treasure is contain'd: Be thou on Earth as _Jove_ is in the Sky, Lord and Commander of these Elements. _Spirits ascend._ _Faust._ How am I glutted with conceit of this? Shall I make Spirits fetch me what I please? I'll have 'em fly to _India_ for Gold, Ransack the Ocean for Orient Pearl. I'll have 'em Wall all _Germany_ with Brass: I'll levy Soldiers with the Coin they bring, And chase the Prince of _Parma_ from our Land. [_Rises._ 'Tis now the Dead nigh Noon of Night, And _Lucifer_ his Spirits freedom gives; I'll try if in this Circle I can Raise A _Dæmon_ to inform me what I long for. _Sint mihi Dii Acherontis propitii, Orientis Princeps, Beelzebub, German. Demogorgon._ [Thunders. _Mephostopholis, Mephostopholis, surgat Spiritus._ Mephostopholis _speaks under Ground_. [Thunders. _Meph._ _Faustus_, I attend thy Will. _Faust._ Where art thou? _Meph._ Here. [_a Flash of Light._ _Scar. within._ Oh, oh, oh. _Faust._ What Noise is that? Hast thou any Companions with thee? _Meph._ No. _Faust._ It comes this way? _Scar._ Oh, oh, O----. [_Enter_ Scaramouche. _Faust._ What ail'st thou? _Scar._ O' o' o' _Faust._ Speak, Fellow, what's the Matter? _Scar._ O poor _Scaramouche_! _Faust._ Speak, I conjure thee; or _Acherontis Dii Demogorgon_.---- _Scar._ O I beseech you Conjure no more, for I am frighted into a _Diabetes_ already. _Faust._ Frighted at what? _Scar._ I have seen, Oh, oh---- _Faust._ What? _Scar._ The Devil. _Faust._ Art sure it was the Devil? _Scar._ The Devil, or the Devil's Companion: He had a Head like a Bulls, with Horns on; and two Eyes that glow'd like the Balls of a dark Lantern: His Hair stood a Tiptoe, like your new-fashion'd Top-knots; with a Mouth as large as a King's Beef Eater: His Nails was as sharp as a Welshman's in Passion; and he look'd as frightful as a Sergeant to an _Alsatian_. _Faust._ But why art thou afraid of the Devil?