Part 37 (2/2)
Faustus' full time being come, the spirit appeared to him, and showed him his writing, and told him that the next night the devil would fetch him away, which made the doctor's heart to ache. But to divert himself, he sent for some doctors and master bachelors of arts, and other students to take dinner with him, for whom he provided great store of varieties, with music and the like. But all would not keep up his spirits, for the hour drew near; whereupon his countenance changing, the doctors and masters of arts inquired of him the reasons of his melancholiness? to which Faustus answered, ”My friends, you have known me these many years, and how I have practised all manner of wickedness.
I have been a great conjurer, which devilish art I obtained of the devil; and also to obtain power to do whatever I pleased I sold myself to the devil for twenty-four years' time, which full time being out this night, makes me full of horror. I have called you, my friends, to see this my dreadful end; and I pray let my miserable death be a warning to you all how you study the devilish art of conjuring; for if once you begin it, a thousand to one but it will lead you to the devil, whither I am this night to go, whether I will or not.” They hearing of this sad story blamed him for concealing it so long, telling him if he had made them acquainted before that they thought it might have been prevented.
He told them he had a desire several times to have disclosed this intrigue; but the devil told him that if he did he would presently fetch him away. He also told them he had a desire to join with the G.o.dly, and to leave off that wicked course; but immediately the devil used to come and torment him, etc. ”But now,” saith Faustus, ”it is but in vain for me to talk of what I did intend, for I have sold myself to the devil; body and soul is his.” No sooner had he spoken these words, but suddenly it fell a thundering and lightning, the like was never heard; whereupon Faustus went into the great hall, the doctors and masters staying in the next room intending to hear his end. About twelve o'clock the house shook so terribly that they thought it would have been down upon them, and suddenly the house windows were broken to pieces, so that they trembled and wished themselves elsewhere, whereupon a great clap of thunder, with a whirlwind the doors flew open, and a mighty rus.h.i.+ng of wind entered with the hissing of serpents, shrieks and cries, upon which he lamentably cried out ”Murder,” and there was such roaring in the hall as if all the devils in h.e.l.l had been there. When daylight appeared they took the boldness to enter into the room, and found his brains beaten out against the wall and the floor sprinkled with blood; but missing his body, they went in search of it, and found it on the dunghill mangled and mashed to pieces. So ended this miserable wretch's life, forsaking G.o.d and all goodness, and given up to his implacable enemy, which we hope may stand not only as a fearful, but lasting monument and warning to others.
THE WHOLE
LIFE AND DEATH
OF
LONG MEG
OF
WESTMINSTER.
CHAPTER I.
_Where Meg was Born, her coming up to London, and her Usage to the Honest Carrier._
In the reign of Henry VIII. was born in Lancas.h.i.+re a maid called Long Meg. At eighteen years old she came to London to get her a service--Father Willis, the carrier, being the waggoner--and her neighbour brought her up with some other la.s.ses. After a tedious journey, being in sight of the desired city, she demanded why they looked sad. ”We have no money,” said one, ”to pay our fare.” So Meg replies, ”If that be all, I shall answer your demands,” and this put them in some comfort. But as soon as they came to St. John's Street, Willis demanded their money. ”Say what you will have,” quoth she. ”Ten s.h.i.+llings a piece,” said he. ”But we have not so much about us,” said she. ”Nay, then, I will have it out of your bones.” ”Marry, content,”
replied Meg, and, taking a staff in her hand, so belaboured him and his man that he desired her for G.o.d's sake to hold her hand. ”Not I,” said she, ”unless you bestow an angel on us for good luck, and swear e'er we depart to get us good addresses.”
The carrier, having felt the strength of her arm, thought it best to give her the money and promised not to go till he had got them good places.
CHAPTER II.
_Of her being placed in Westminster, and what she did at her Place._
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