FAUSTUS. Settle thy studies, Faustus, and begin To sound the depth of that thou wilt profess: Having commenc'd, be a divine in shew, Yet level at the end of every art, And live and die in Aristotle's works. Sweet Analytics, 'tis thou[8] hast ravish'd me! Bene disserere est finis logices. Is, to dispute well, logic's chiefest end? Affords this art no greater miracle? Then read no more; thou hast attain'd that[9] end: A greater subject fitteth Faustus' wit: Bid Economy[10] farewell, and[11] Galen come, Seeing, Ubi desinit philosophus, ibi incipit medicus: Be a physician, Faustus; heap up gold, And be eterniz'd for some wondrous cure: Summum bonum medicinae sanitas, The end of physic is our body's health. Why, Faustus, hast thou not attain'd that end? Is not thy common talk found aphorisms? Are not thy bills hung up as monuments, Whereby whole cities have escap'd the plague, And thousand desperate maladies been eas'd? Yet art thou still but Faustus, and a man. Couldst[12] thou make men[13] to live eternally, Or, being dead, raise them to life again, Then this profession were to be esteem'd. Physic, farewell! Where is Justinian? [Reads.] Si una eademque res legatur[14] duobus, alter rem, alter valorem rei, &c. A pretty case of paltry legacies! [Reads.] Exhoereditare filium non potest pater, nisi, &c.[15] Such is the subject of the institute, And universal body of the law:[16] This[17] study fits a mercenary drudge, Who aims at nothing but external trash; Too servile[18] and illiberal for me. When all is done, divinity is best: Jerome's Bible, Faustus; view it well. [Reads.] Stipendium peccati mors est. Ha! Stipendium, &c. The reward of sin is death: that's hard. [Reads.] Si peccasse negamus, fallimur, et nulla est in nobis veritas;