_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. _Har._ Ay, come; God bless Dr. _Faustus_. [_Bottles fly up, and the Table sinks._ _Scar._ What all gone: Here's a Banquet stole away like a City Feast. [_Musick._ _Har._ Ha! here's Musick to delight us. [_Two Chairs rises._ Harlequin _and_ Scaramouche _sits down, and are caught fast_. _Scar._ Ha! the Devil. We are lock'd in. _Har._ As fast as a Counter Rat. _Enter several Devils, who black_ Harlequin _and_ Scaramouche's _Faces, and then squirt Milk upon them_. _After the Dance they both sink._ _Scar. and Har._ O' o, o'---- _The End of the Second Act._ ACT III. SCENE _a Wood_. Mephostopholis _and Dr._ Faustus. _Faust._ How have I been delighted by thy Art; and in Twelve Years have seen the utmost Limits of the spacious World; feasted my self with all Varieties; pleasur'd my Fancy with my Magick Art, and liv'd sole Lord o'er every Thing I wish'd for. _Meph._ Ay, _Faustus_, is it not a splendid Life? _Faust._ It is my Spirit; but prithee now retire, while I repose my self within this Shade, and when I wake attend on me again. _Meph._ _Faust_, I will. [_Exit._ _Faust._ What art thou, _Faustus_, but a Man condemn'd. Thy Lease of Years expire apace; and, _Faustus_, then thou must be _Lucifers_: Here rest my Soul, and in my Sleep my future State be buried. _Good and bad Angel descends._ _Good An._ _Faustus_, sweet _Faustus_, yet remember Heav'n. Oh! think upon the everlasting Pain thou must endure, For all thy short Space of Pleasure. _Bad An._ Illusions, Fancies, _Faustus_; think of Earth. The Kings thou shalt command: The Pleasures Rule. Be, _Faustus_, not a whining, pious Fool. [_Ascend._ _Enter_ Horse-courser. _Hors._ Oh! what a couz'ning Doctor was this: I riding my Horse into the Water, thinking some hidden Mystery had been in 'em, found my self on a Bundle of Straw, and was drag'd by Something in the Water, like a Bailiff through a Horse-pond. Ha! he's a Sleep: So ho, Mr. Doctor, so ho. Why Doctor, you couz'ning, wheedling, hypocritical, cheating, chousing, Son of a Whore; awake, rise, and give me my Mony again, for your Horse is turn'd into a Bottle of Hay. Why Sirrah, Doctor; 'sfoot I think he's dead. Way Doctor Scab; you mangy Dog. [_pulls him by the Leg._ 'Zounds I'm undone, I have pull'd his Leg off. _Faust._ O help! the Villain has undone me; Murder.