ssault:
O, were that damned hell-hound but in place,
Thou soon shouldst see me quit my foul disgrace!

Re-enter FREDERICK.

FREDERICK. Close, close! the conjurer is at hand,
And all alone comes walking in his gown;
Be ready, then, and strike the [183] peasant down.

BENVOLIO. Mine be that honour, then. Now, sword, strike home!
For horns he gave I'll have his head anon.

MARTINO. See, see, he comes!

Enter FAUSTUS with a false head.

BENVOLIO. No words. This blow ends all:
Hell take his soul! his body thus must fall.
[Stabs FAUSTUS.]

FAUSTUS. [falling.] O!

FREDERICK. Groan you, Master Doctor?

BENVOLIO. Break may his heart with groans!--Dear Frederick, see,
Thus will I end his griefs immediately.

MARTINO. Strike with a willing hand.
[BENVOLIO strikes off FAUSTUS' head.]
His head is off.

BENVOLIO. The devil's dead; the Furies now [184] may laugh.

FREDERICK. Was this that stern aspect, that awful frown,
Made the grim monarch of infernal spirits
Tremble and quake at his commanding charms?

MARTINO. Was this that damned head, whose art [185] conspir'd
Benvolio's shame before the Emperor?

BENVOLIO. Ay, that's the head, and there [186] the body lies,
Justly rewarded for his villanies.

FREDERICK. Come, let's devise how we may add more shame
To the black scandal of his hated name.

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 yok'd me first,
That all the world may see my just revenge.

MARTINO. What use shall we put his beard to?

BENVOLIO. We'll sell it to a chimney-sweeper: it will wear out
ten birchen brooms, I warrant you.

FREDERICK. What shall his [187] eyes do?

BENVOLIO. We'll pull [188] out his eyes; and they shall serve for
buttons to his lips, to keep his tongue from catching cold.

MARTINO. An excellent policy! and now, sirs, having divided him,
what shall the body do?
[FAUSTUS rises.]

BENVOLIO. Zounds, the devil's alive again!

FREDERICK. Give him his head, for God's sake.

FAUSTUS. Nay, keep it: Faustus will have heads and hands,
Ay, all [189] your hearts to recompense this deed.
Knew yo