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The Works of Christopher Marlowe

Dr. Faustus (B Text)

Act: 4 Scene: 3

Benvolio

Away, you love me not to urge me thus,

Shall I let slip so great an injury,

When every servile groom feasts at my wrongs,

And in their rustic gambols proudly say

Benvolio's head was graced with horns to day?

O, may these eyelids never close again

Till with my sword I have that conjuror slain.

If you will aid me in this enterprise,

Then draw your weapons and be resolute.

If not, depart. Here will Benvolio die,

But Faustus' death shall quit my infamy.

Benvolio

Then, gentle Frederick, hie thee to the grove,

And place our servants and our followers

Close in an ambush there behind the trees.

By this (I know) the conjuror is near;

I saw him kneel, and kiss the Emperor's hand,

And take his leave, laden with rich rewards.

Then souldiers boldly fight. If Faustus die,

Take you the wealth; leave us the victory.

Benvolio

My head is lighter than it was by th'horns,

But yet my heart more ponderous then my head,

And pants until I see that conjuror dead.

Benvolio

Here will we stay to bide the first assault.

O, were that damned hell-hound but in place,

Thou soon should'st see me quit my foul disgrace.

Benvolio

Mine be that honour then. Now, sword, strike home.

For horns he gave, I'll have his head anon.

Benvolio

No words. This blow ends all.

Hell take his soul; his body thus must fall.

Benvolio

Break may his heart with gropes. Dear Frederick, see

Thus will I end his griefs immediately.

Benvolio

The devil's dead; the Furies now may laugh.

Benvolio

Ay, that's the head and here the body lies,

Justly rewarded for his villainies.

Benvolio

First, on his head, in quittance of my wrongs,

I'll nail huge forked horns and let them hang

Within the window where he yoked me first,

That all the world may see my just revenge.

Benvolio

We'll sell it to a chimney-sweeper. It will wear out

ten birching brooms, I warrant you.

Benvolio

We'll put out his eyes, and they shall serve for but-

tons to his lips to keep his tongue from catching cold.

Benvolio

Zounds, the devil's alive again!