The Tragicall History of the Life and Death of Doctor Faustus/Scene 14
Enter at severall doores Benvolio, Fredericke, and Martino, their
heads and faces bloody and besmeared with mud
and durt, having all hornes on their heads.
Mart.
What ho, Benvolio?
Ben.
Here, what Fredericke, ho?
Fred.
O helpe me gentle friend, where is Martino?
Mart.
Deere Fredericke here,
Half smotherd in a lake of mud and durt,
Through which the Furies dragged me by the heeles.
Fred.
Martino see,
Benvolio's hornes againe.
Mart.
O misery, how now Benvolio?
Ben.
Defend me heaven, shall I be haunted still?
Mart.
Nay feare not man, we have no power to kill.
Ben.
My friends transformed thus: O hellish spite,
Your heads are all set with hornes.
Fred.
You hit it right;
It is your owne you meane, feele on your head.
Ben.
Zounds, hornes againe.
Mart.
Nay, chafe not man; we all are sped.
Ben.
What divell attends this damn'd Magitian,
That spight of spite, our wrongs are doubled?
Fred.
What may we doe that we may hide our shames?
Ben.
If we should follow him to worke revenge,
Hee'd joyne long Asses eares to these huge hornes,
And make us laughing stocks to all the world.
Mart.
What shall we then do, deere Benvolio?
Ben.
I have a Castle joyning near these woods,
And thither weele repaire and live obscure,
Till time shall alter these our brutish shapes:
Sith blacke disgrace hath thus ecclipst our fame,
Weele rather die with griefe, then live with shame.