Enter two SCHOLARS.
I wonder what's become of Faustus, that was wont
to make our schools ring with sic probo.
That shall we know, for see, here comes his boy.
How now, sirrah! where's thy master?
God in heaven knows.
Why, dost not thou know?
Yes, I know; but that follows not.
Go to, sirrah! leave your jesting, and tell us
where he is.
That follows not necessary by force of argument, that you,
being licentiates, should stand upon: therefore acknowledge
your error, and be attentive.
Why, didst thou not say thou knewest?
Have you any witness on't?
Yes, sirrah, I heard you.
Ask my fellow if I be a thief.
Well, you will not tell us?
Yes, sir, I will tell you: yet, if you were not dunces,
you would never ask me such a question; for is not he corpus
naturale? and is not that mobile? then wherefore should you
ask me such a question? But that I am by nature phlegmatic,
slow to wrath, and prone to lechery (to love, I would say),
it were not for you to come within forty foot of the place
of execution, although I do not doubt to see you both hanged
the next sessions. Thus having triumphed over you, I will set
my countenance like a precisian, and begin to speak thus: —
Truly, my dear brethren, my master is within at dinner,
with Valdes and Cornelius, as this wine, if it could speak,
would inform your worships: and so, the Lord bless you,
preserve you, and keep you, my dear brethren, my dear brethren!
Nay, then, I fear he is fallen into that damned art
for which they two are infamous through the world.
Were he a stranger, and not allied to me, yet should
I grieve for him. But, come, let us go and inform the Rector,
and see if he by his grave counsel can reclaim him.
O, but I fear me nothing can reclaim him!
Yet let us try what we can do.