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Most of the tricks and pranks reported of Dr. Faustus are of the same absurd kind, though not all of so harmless a character. According to the popular legend, he travelled like a great lord, had the spirits pave the highways for him when he rode in the post-coach, it seems, then, that he did not always use his mantle, and lived in the taverns at which he stopped with an unheard-of luxury.
Quietly landing at Dover-haven, they went to Wright's tavern, where they missed the French manner, mirrors, and table-service, but "got in their place a good deal of solid, unpretending comfort." In due time Mr. Wright put them and their luggage into a comfortable post-coach, and on the road he called "quite rotten, sir," to London.
At length we parted. He went to fill up the vacancy of the clerk's place at Dorchester, and I to the Mitre, to prepare for my departure from Oxford, which took place on Wednesday morning at three o'clock, in the post-coach. Considering the pleasing, if not kind attention shown me here, I own I thought my bill not unreasonable; though to be sure, it made a great hole in my little purse.
I felt some degree of fever, was very restless all night, and so I kept my bed very late the next morning, until the woman of the house came and aroused me by saying she had been uneasy on my account. And now I formed the resolution to go to Leicester in the post-coach.
From Oxford to Birmingham is sixty- two miles; but all that was to be seen between the two places was entirely lost to me, for I was again mewed up in a post-coach, and driven along with such velocity from one place to another, that I seemed to myself as doing nothing less than travelling. My companion, however, made me amends in some measure for this loss.
These I steeped in hot water, and so from the whole of these appliances extracted one cup of I don't know what for Estella. The bill paid, and the waiter remembered, and the ostler not forgotten, and the chambermaid taken into consideration, in a word, the whole house bribed into a state of contempt and animosity, and Estella's purse much lightened, we got into our post-coach and drove away.
"Ah, did not I tell you that you would be shaken to death?" said the black, as I was getting up, but I made him no reply. Indeed, I was ashamed; and I now write this as a warning to all strangers to stage-coaches who may happen to take it into their heads, without being used to it, to take a place on the outside of an English post-coach, and still more, a place in the basket.
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