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FREDERICK. You hit it right; It is your own you mean; feel on your head. BENVOLIO. Zounds, [195] horns again! MARTINO. Nay, chafe not, man; we all are [196] sped. BENVOLIO. What devil attends this damn'd magician, That, spite of spite, our wrongs are doubled? FREDERICK. What may we do, that we may hide our shames? BENVOLIO. If we should follow him to work revenge, He'd join long asses' ears to these huge horns, And make us laughing-stocks to all the world. MARTINO. What shall we, then, do, dear Benvolio? BENVOLIO. I have a castle joining near these woods; And thither we'll repair, and live obscure, Till time shall alter these [197] our brutish shapes: Sith black disgrace hath thus eclips'd our fame, We'll rather die with grief than live with shame. [Exeunt.] Enter FAUSTUS, a HORSE-COURSER, and MEPHISTOPHILIS. HORSE-COURSER. I beseech your worship, accept of these forty dollars. FAUSTUS. Friend, thou canst not buy so good a horse for so small a price. I have no great need to sell him: but, if thou likest him for ten dollars more, take him, because I see thou hast a good mind to him. HORSE-COURSER. I beseech you, sir, accept of this: I am a very poor man, and have lost very much of late by horse-flesh, and this bargain will set me up again. FAUSTUS. Well, I will not stand with thee: give me the money