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Then, soldiers, boldly [180] fight: if Faustus die, Shall I let slip so great an injury, And pants until I see that [182] conjurer dead. BENVOLIO. Then, gentle Frederick, hie thee to the grove, But Faustus' death shall quit my [177] infamy. And take his leave, laden with rich rewards. [Exit FREDERICK with SOLDIERS.] FREDERICK. Nay, we will stay with thee, betide what may, If not, depart: here will Benvolio die, When every servile groom jests at my wrongs, And kill that [178] doctor, if he come this way. Close in an [179] ambush there behind the trees. If you will aid me in this enterprise, "Benvolio's head was grac'd with horns today?" O, may these eyelids never close again, BENVOLIO. Away! you love me not, to urge me thus: Till with my sword I have that [176] conjurer slain! BENVOLIO. My head is lighter, than it was, by the horns; Then draw your weapons and be resolute; Who kills him shall have gold and endless love. But yet my heart's [181] more ponderous than my head, FREDERICK. Come, soldiers, follow me unto the grove: By this, I know the conjurer is near: Take you the wealth, leave us the victory. And in their rustic gambols proudly say, I saw him kneel, and kiss the Emperor's hand, And place our servants and our followers