The Tragicall History, &c.
3
The Devill whom Faustus serv'd, hath torne him thus:
For twixt the houres of twelve and one, me thought
I heard him shrieke and call aloud for helpe:
At which same time the house seem'd all on fire,
With dreadfull horror of these damned Fiends.
2
Well Gentlemen, though Faustus end be such,
As every Christian heart laments to thinke on:
Yet for he was a Schollar once admired
For wondrous knowledge in our Germane Schooles,
Wee'le give his mangled limbs due buriall:
And all the Students cloath'd in mourning blacke,
Shall wait upon his heavy funerall. Exeunt.
Enter Chorus.
Cut is the branch that might have growne full straight,
And burned is Apollo's Lawrell bough,
That sometime grew within this learned man:
Faustus is gone, regard his hellish fall,
Whose fiendfull fortune may exhort the wise
Only to wonder at unlawfull things:
Whose deepnesse doth intice such forward wits,
To practise more than heavenly power permits.
Terminat hora diem, terminat Author opus.
FINIS.
