For that I know your friendship is unfeign'd, And Faustus' custom is not to deny The just requests of those that wish him well You shall behold that peerless dame of Greece, No otherways for pomp and majesty Than when Sir Paris cross'd the seas with her, And brought the spoils to rich Dardania. Be silent, then, for danger is in words. [Music sounds, and Helen passeth over the stage] Sec. Schol. Too simple is my wit to tell her praise, Whom all the world admires for majesty. Third Schol. No marvel though the angry Greeks pursu'd With ten years' war the rape of such a queen, Whose heavenly beauty passeth all compare. First Schol. Since we have seen the pride of Nature's works, And only paragon of excellence, Let us depart; and for this glorious deed Happy and blest be Faustus evermore! Faust. Gentlemen, farewell: the same I wish to you. [Exeunt Scholars. Enter an Old Man Old Man. Ah, Doctor Faustus, that I might prevail To guide thy steps unto the way of life, By which sweet path thou mayst attain the goal That shall conduct thee to celestial rest! Break heart, drop blood, and mingle it with tears, Tears falling from repentant heaviness But mercy, Faustus, of thy Saviour sweet, Whose blood alone must wash away thy guilt. Faust. Where art thou, Faustus? wretch, what hast thou done? Damn'd art thou, Faustus, damn'd; despair and die! Hell calls for right, and with a roaring voice Says, "Faustus, come; thine hour is almost come"; And Faustus now will come to do thee right. [Mephistophilis gives him a dagger. Old Man. Ah, stay, good Faustus, stay thy desperate steps! I see an angel hovers o'er thy head, Fearing the ruin of thy hopeless soul. Faust. Sweet Mephistophilis, entreat thy lord To pardon my unjust presumption, Meph. Do it, then, quickly, with unfeigned heart, Lest greater danger do attend thy drift. Faust. Torment, sweet friend, that base and crooked age, That durst dissuade me from thy Lucifer, But what I may afflict his body with To glut the longing of my heart's desire,— Those thoughts that do dissuade me from my Her lips suck forth my soul: see, where it flies! Come, Helen, come, give me my soul again. I will be Paris, and for love of thee, That from thy soul exclud'st the grace of heaven, And fly'st the throne of his tribunal-seat! Satan begins to sift me with his pride: Hence, hell! for hence I fly unto my God. [Exeunt on one side, Devils, on the other, Old Man. Enter FAUSTUS, with Scholars Faust. Ah, gentlemen! First Schol. What ails Faustus? Faust. Ah, my sweet chamber-fellow, had I lived with thee, then had I lived still! but now I die eternally. Look, comes he not? comes he not? Sec. Schol. What means Faustus? Third Schol. Belike he is grown into some sickness by being over-solitary. First Schol. If it be so, we'll have physicians to cure him.-'Tis but a surfeit; never fear, man. Faust. A surfeit of deadly sin, that hath damned both body and soul. : Sec. Schol. Yet, Faustus, look up to heaven; remember God's mercies are infinite. Faust. But Faustus' offence can ne'er be pardoned the serpent that tempted Eve may be saved, but not Faustus. Ah, gentlemen, hear me with patience, and tremble not at my speeches! Though my heart pants and quivers to remember that I have been a student here these thirty years, O, would I had never seen Wertenberg, never read book! and what wonders I have done, all Germany can witness, yea, all the world; for which Faustus hath lost both Germany and the world, yea, heaven itself, heaven, the seat of God, the throne of the blessed, the kingdom of joy; and must remain in hell for ever, hell, ah, hell, for ever! Sweet friends, what shall become of Faustus, being in hell for ever? Third Schol. Yet, Faustus, call on God. On God, whom Faustus hath abjured! on God, whom Faustus hath blasphemed! Ah, my God, I would weep! but the devil draws in my tears. Gush forth blood, instead of tears! yea, Faust. God forbade it, indeed; but Faustus hath done it: for vain pleasure of twenty-four years hath Faustus lost eternal joy and felicity. I writ them a bill with mine own blood; the date is expired; the time will come, and he will fetch me. First Schol. Why did not Faustus tell us of this before, that divines might have prayed for thee? Faust. Oft have I thought to have done so; but the devil threatened to tear me in pieces, if I named God, to fetch both body and soul, if I once gave ear to divinity and now 'tis too late. Gentlemen, away, lest you perish with me. Sec. Schol. O, what shall we do 'to save Faustus? Faust. Talk not of me, but save yourselves, and depart. Third Schol. God will strengthen me; I will stay with Faustus. First Schol. Tempt not God, sweet friend; but let us into the next room, and there pray for him. Faust. Ay, pray for me, pray for me; and what noise soever ye hear, come not unto me, for nothing can rescue me. Sec. Schol. Pray thou, and we will pray that God may have mercy upon thee. Faust. Gentlemen, farewell: if I live till morning, I'll visit you; if not, Faustus is gone to hell. All. Faustus, farewell. [Exeunt Scholars-The clock strikes eleven. Faust. Ah, Faustus. Now hast thou but one bare hour to live, That time may cease, and midnight never come; Fair Nature's eye, rise, rise again, and make The stars move still, time runs, the clock will strike, The devil will come, and Faustus must be damn'd. O, I'll leap up to my God!-Who pulls me down? See, see, where Christ's blood streams in the firmament! One drop would save my soul, half a drop: ah, my Christ! Ah, rend not my heart for naming of my Christ! Yet will I call on him: O, spare me, Lucifer! Where is it now? 'tis gone: and see, where God Stretcheth out his arm, and bends his ireful brows! Mountains and hills, come, come, and fall on me, And hide me from the heavy wrath of God! Then will I headlong run into the earth: So that my soul may but ascend to heaven! [The clock strikes the half-hour. Ah, half the hour is past! 'twill all be past anon. O God, If thou wilt not have mercy on my soul, Yet for Christ's sake, whose blood hath ransom'd me, Impose some end to my incessant pain; This soul should fly from me, and I be chang'd Unto some brutish beast! all beasts are happy, For, when they die, Their souls are soon dissolv'd in elements; But mine must live still to be plagu'd in hell. Curs'd be the parents that engender'd me! No, Faustus, curse thyself, curse Lucifer That hath depriv'd thee of the joys of heaven. [The clock strikes twelve. O, it strikes, it strikes! Now, body, turn to air, Or Lucifer will bear thee quick to hell! [Thunder and lightning. O soul, be chang'd into little water-drops, And fall into the ocean, ne'er be found! Enter Devils My God, my God, look not so fierce on me! Enter Chorus Chor. Cut is the branch that might have grown full straight, And burned is Apollo's laurel-bough, To practice more than heavenly power permits. [Exit. Terminat hora diem; terminat auctor opus SELECTIONS FROM TAMBURLAINE CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE 1. The Will to Power Meander (to the Persian Prince). Your majesty shall shortly have your wish, And ride in triumph through Persepolis. [Exeunt all except Tamburlaine and his three Captains. Tamb. And ride in triumph through Persepolis!- Is it not brave to be a king, Techelles!- Is it not passing brave to be a king, Usum. To be a king, is half to be a god. Whose virtues carry with it life and death; Such power attractive shines in princes' eyes. Tamb. Why, say, Theridamas, wilt thou be a king? Tamburlaine (to the Persian Prince, whom he has conquered). The thirst of reign and sweetness of a crown, That caus'd the eldest son of heavenly Ops To thrust his doting father from his chair, And place himself in the empyreal heaven, Mov'd me to manage arms against thy state. What better precedent than mighty Jove? Nature, that fram'd us of four elements Warring within our breasts for regiment, Doth teach us all to have aspiring minds: Our souls, whose faculties can comprehend The wondrous architecture of the world, And measure every wandering planet's course, Still climbing after knowledge infinite, 3. In Praise of Beauty Ah, fair Zenocrate!-divine Zenocrate! And, like to Flora in her morning's pride, Rain'st on the earth resolved pearl in show ers, And sprinklest sapphires on thy shining face, Where Beauty, mother to the Muses, sits, There angels in their crystal armors fight Had fed the feeling of their masters' thoughts, And every sweetness that inspir'd their hearts, Their minds, and muses on admired themes; Which into words no virtue can digest. And every warrior that is rapt with love I thus conceiving, and subduing both, That which hath stoop'd the chiefest of the gods, Even from the fiery-spangled veil of heaven, To feel the lovely warmth of shepherds' flames, And mask in cottages of strowed reeds, "ALL KNOWLEDGE TO BE MY PROVINCE" [A Letter to Lord Chancellor Burghley] MY LORD-With as much confidence as mine own honest and faithful devotion unto your service and your honorable correspondence unto me and my poor estate can breed in a man, do I commend myself unto your Lordship. I wax now somewhat ancient; one and thirty years is a great deal of sand in the hour glass. My health, I thank God, I find confirmed; and I do not fear that action shall impair it, because I account my ordinary course of study and meditation to be more painful than most parts of action are. I ever bare a mind (in some middle place that I could discharge) to serve her majesty, not as a man born under Sol, that loveth honor; nor under Jupiter, that loveth business (for the contemplative planet carrieth me away wholly); but as a man born under an excellent sovereign, that deserveth the dedication of all men's abilities. Besides, I do not find in myself so much self-love, but that the greater parts of my thoughts are to deserve well (if I be able) of my friends, and namely of your Lordship; who, being the Atlas of this commonwealth, the honor of my house, and the second founder of my poor estate, I am tied by all duties, both of a good patriot and of an unworthy kinsman, and of an obliged servant, to employ whatsoever I am to do you service. Again, the meanness of my estate doth somewhat move me: for, though I cannot accuse myself that I am either prodigal or slothful, yet my health is not to spend, nor my course to get. Lastly, I confess that I have as vast contemplative ends as I have moderate civil ends: for I have taken all knowledge to be my province; and if I could purge it of two sorts of rovers, whereof the one with frivolous disputations, confutations, and verbosi |