HORSE-COURSER. O Lord, sir, let me go, and I'll give you forty
dollars more!

MEPHIST. Where be they?

HORSE-COURSER. I have none about me: come to my ostry,<146>
and I'll give them you.

MEPHIST. Be gone quickly.
[HORSE-COURSER runs away.]

FAUSTUS. 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 shall cost him forty dollars more.

Enter WAGNER.

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

WAGNER. Sir, the Duke of Vanholt doth earnestly entreat your
company.

FAUSTUS. The Duke of Vanholt! an honourable gentleman, to whom
I must be no niggard of my cunning.<147>--Come, Mephistophilis,
let's away to him.
[Exeunt.]

Enter the DUKE OF VANHOLT, the DUCHESS, and FAUSTUS.<148>

DUKE. Believe me, Master Doctor, this merriment hath much pleased