FAUSTUS. I'll pledge your grace.
[Snatches the cup.]
C. OF LOR. My lord, it may be some ghost, newly crept out of
Purgatory, come to beg a pardon of your Holiness.
POPE. It may be so.--Friars, prepare a dirge to lay the fury
of this ghost.--Once again, my lord, fall to.
[The POPE crosses himself.]
FAUSTUS. What, are you crossing of yourself?
Well, use that trick no more, I would advise you.
[The POPE crosses himself again.]
Well, there's the second time. Aware the third;
I give you fair warning.
[The POPE crosses himself again, and FAUSTUS hits him a box
of the ear; and they all run away.]
Come on, Mephistophilis; what shall we do?
MEPHIST. Nay, I know not: we shall be cursed with bell, book,
and candle.
FAUSTUS. How! bell, book, and candle,--candle, book, and bell,--
Forward and backward, to curse Faustus to hell!
Anon you shall hear a hog grunt, a calf bleat, and an ass bray,
Because it is Saint Peter's holiday.
Re-enter all the FRIARS to sing the Dirge.
FIRST FRIAR.
Come, brethren, let's about our business with good devotion.
They sing.
CURSED BE HE THAT STOLE AWAY HIS HOLINESS' MEAT FROM THE
TABLE! maledicat Dominus!
CURSED BE HE THAT STRUCK HIS HOLINESS A BLOW ON THE FACE!
maledicat Dominus!
CURSED BE HE THAT TOOK FRIAR SANDELO A BLOW ON THE PATE!
maledicat Dominus!
CURSED BE HE THAT DISTURBETH OUR HOLY DIRGE! maledicat
Dominus!
CURSED BE HE THAT TOOK AWAY HIS HOLINESS' WINE! maledicat
Dominus? sic>
Et omnes Sancti! Amen!
[MEPHISTOPHILIS and FAUSTUS beat the FRIARS, and fling
fire-works among them; and so exeunt.
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