HORSE-COURSER. Why, sir, will he not drink of all waters? FAUSTUS. O, yes, he will drink of all waters; but ride him not into the water: ride him over hedge or ditch, or where thou wilt, but not into the water. HORSE-COURSER. Well, sir.--Now am I made man for ever: I'll not leave my horse for forty:[141] if he had but the quality of hey-ding-ding, hey-ding-ding, I'd make a brave living on him: he has a buttock as slick as an eel [Aside].--Well, God b'wi'ye, sir: your boy will deliver him me: but, hark you, sir; if my horse be sick or ill at ease, if I bring his water to you, you'll tell me what it is? FAUSTUS. Away, you villain! what, dost think I am a horse-doctor? [Exit HORSE-COURSER.] What art thou, Faustus, but a man condemn'd to die? Thy fatal time doth draw to final end; Despair doth drive distrust into[142] my thoughts: Confound these passions with a quiet sleep: Tush, Christ did call the thief upon the Cross; Then rest thee, Faustus, quiet in conceit. [Sleeps in his chair.] Re-enter HORSE-COURSER, all wet, crying. HORSE-COURSER. Alas, alas! Doctor Fustian, quoth a? mass, Doctor Lopus[143] was never such a doctor: has given me a purgation, has purged me of forty dollars; I shall never see them more. But yet, like an ass as I was, I would not be ruled by him, for he bade me I should ride him into no water: now I, thinking my horse had had some rare quality that he would not have had me know of,[144] I, like a venturous youth, rid him into the deep pond at the town's end. I was no sooner in the middle of the pond, but my horse vanished away, and I sat upon a bottle of hay, never so near drowning in my life. But I'll seek out my doctor, and have my forty dollars again, or I'll make it the dearest horse!--O, yonder is his snipper-snapper.--Do you hear? you, hey-pass,[145] where's your master? MEPHIST. Why, sir, what would you? you cannot speak with him. HORSE-COURSER. But I will speak with him. MEPHIST. Why, he's fast asleep: come some other time. HORSE-COURSER. I'll speak with him now, or I'll break his glass-windows about his ears. MEPHIST. I tell thee, he has not slept this eight nights. HORSE-COURSER. An he have not slept this eight weeks, I'll speak with him. MEPHIST. See, where he is, fast asleep. HORSE-COURSER. Ay, this is he.--God save you, Master Doctor, Master Doctor, Master Doctor Fustian! forty dollars, forty dollars for a bottle of hay! MEPHIST. Why, thou seest he hears thee not. HORSE-COURSER. So-ho, ho! so-ho, ho! [Hollows in his ear.] No, will you not wake? I'll make you wake ere I go. [Pulls FAUSTUS by the leg, and pulls it away.] Alas, I am undone! what shall I do?