Enter Horse-courser, and Carter, with Pots of Ale.
Cart. Here's to thee; and now I'll tell thee what I came hither for: You have heard of a Conjurer they call Doctor Faustus.
Hors. Heard of him, a Plague take him, I have Cause to know him; has he play'd any Pranks with you?
Cart. I'll tell thee, as I was going to the Market a while ago, with a Load of Hay, he met me, and askt me, What he should give me for as much Hay as his Horse would Eat: Now, Sir, I thinking that a little would serve his Turn, bad him take as much as he would for Three Farthings.
Hors. So.
Cart. So he presently gave me Mony, and fell to Eating: And as I'm a cursen Man, he never left Yeating and Yeating, 'till he had eaten up my whole Load of Hay.
Hors. Now you shall hear how he serv'd me: I went to him Yesterday to buy a Horse of him, which I did; and he bad me be sure not to ride him into the Water.
Cart. Good.
Hors. Ad's Wounds 'twas Bad, as you shall hear: For I thinking the Horse had some rare Quality, that he would not have me know, what do me I but rides him in the Water; and when I came just in the midst of the River, I found my self a Straddle on a Bottle of Hay.
Cart. O rare Doctor!