t of Faustus. The only thing that displeased
him in the prince was the weakness he displayed in regard to his
confessor, the Benedictine. He loaded him with so much tenderness, and
submitted with so much complaisance to his will, and the monk always
looked so studiously devout, that Faustus could not conceive how a man so
frank himself could prize such a hypocrite. The Devil, however, soon let
him into the secret by informing him of the duke's connexion with
Monserau. His love for this fair lady was equalled by his fear of hell;
and, Madame de Monserau having a husband still living, he was not
altogether easy in respect to his amours with her. As he neither wished
to renounce her nor expose himself to eternal punishment, he greedily
caught at the baits which the monks hang out in order to make themselves
masters of the minds of men; and when the dread of hell tormented him too
much, he allayed his fears by receiving absolution for his sins; while he
thought it impossible for him to be too grateful to a man who encouraged
him to enjoy the present, and tranquillised him in respect to the future.
"Thou seest, O Faustus," said the Devil, "what men have made of religion.
Its abuse has often been associated with crimes and horrors, but is
nevertheless used by the wicked to cajole and appease their rebellious
consciences."

The conduct of the prince in this respect did him little honour in the
opinion of Faustus, who had long ago parted with his own conscience, and
this last remark of the Devil's operated strongly upon his mind; however,
he permitted things to go on in their own way, and chiefly thought of
passing his time pleasantly.

They were one evening at table in excellent humour; the Devil was
diverting the company with his pleasant stories, and Faustus was employed
in saying soft things to a pretty French widow, who listened to him very
complaisantly; when all of a sudden, Death, in his most frightful shape,
came to disturb the festival. The Benedictine caused a basket of
extraordinarily large peaches, which he had just received as a present,
to be brought in at dessert; and, selecting one of the finest, he offered
it to the prince with a smiling and benignant air. The prince divided it
with his beloved, and both ate of the peach without the slightest
suspicion. They then rose from table; the monk gave his benediction to
all, and hurried away. The Devil was about to commence a new story, when
Madame de Monser