Now, Mephistophilis, the restless course

That Time doth run with calm and silent foot,

Shortening my days and thread of vital life,

Calls for the payment of my latest years:

Therefore, sweet Mephistophilis, let us

Make haste to Wertenberg.

Nay, till I'm past this fair and pleasant green, I'll walk on foot.

What, horse-courser! You are well met.

I cannot sell him so: if thou likest him for fifty, take him.

Well, come, give me your money. [Horse-Courser gives FAUSTUS the money.] My boy will deliver him to you. But I must tell you one thing before you have him; ride him not into the water at any hand.

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.

Away, you villain; what, dost think I am a horse-doctor?

What art thou, Faustus, but a man condemned to die? Thy fatal time doth draw to final end; Despair doth drive distrust unto 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

O my leg, my leg! Help, Mephistophilis! call the officers. My leg, my leg!

What, is he gone? Farewell he! Faustus has his leg again, and the horse-courser, I take it, a bottle of hay for his labour. Well, this trick shalt cost him forty dollars more.

How now, Wagner, what's the news with thee?

The Duke of Vanholt! an honourable gentleman, to whom I must be no niggard of my cunning. Come, Mephistophilis, let's away to him.