O what a cozening doctor was this! I riding my horse into the water, thinking some hidden mystery had been in the horse, I had nothing under me but a little straw and had much ado to escape drowning. Well, I’ll go rouse him and make him give me my forty dollars again. Ho, sirrah doctor, you cozening scab! Master doctor, awake and rise, and give me my money again, for your horse is turned to a bottle of hay. Master doctor! . . . Alas, I am undone! What shall I do? I have pulled off his leg.
Stop him, stop him, stop him!—Ha, ha, ha! Faustus hath his leg again, and the horse-courser a bundle of hay for his forty dollars.
I do think of myself, my good lord, highly recompensed in that it pleaseth your Grace to think but well of that which Faustus hath performed.—But gracious lady, it may be that you have taken no pleasure in those sights. Therefore I pray you tell me what is the thing you most desire to have: be it in the world it shall be yours. I have heard that great-bellied women do long for things are rare and dainty.
