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HORSE-COURSER. Alas, alas! Doctor Fustian, quoth a? mass, Doctor HORSE-COURSER. But I will speak with him. HORSE-COURSER. I'll speak with him now, or I'll break his where's your master? yonder is his snipper-snapper.--Do you hear? you, hey-pass,[145] Re-enter HORSE-COURSER, all wet, crying. glass-windows about his ears. MEPHIST. Why, sir, what would you? you cannot speak with him. drowning in my life. But I'll seek out my doctor, and have my MEPHIST. Why, he's fast asleep: come some other time. Lopus[143] was never such a doctor: has given me a purgation, has forty dollars again, or I'll make it the dearest horse!--O, like an ass as I was, I would not be ruled by him, for he bade me HORSE-COURSER. An he have not slept this eight weeks, I'll purged me of forty dollars; I shall never see them more. But yet, Tush, Christ did call the thief upon the Cross; end. I was no sooner in the middle of the pond, but my horse MEPHIST. I tell thee, he has not slept this eight nights. [Sleeps in his chair.] Despair doth drive distrust into[142] my thoughts: some rare quality that he would not have had me know of,[144] I, speak with him. Then rest thee, Faustus, quiet in conceit. vanished away, and I sat upon a bottle of hay, never so near I should ride him into no water: now I, thinking my horse had had Confound these passions with a quiet sleep: like a venturous youth, rid him into the deep pond at the town's