The Tragical History of Doctor Faustus by Christopher Marlowe (ebook reader for comics txt) 📕

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THE TRAGICAL HISTORY OF DOCTOR FAUSTUS

BY CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE

FROM THE QUARTO OF 1604.

EDITED BY THE REV. ALEXANDER DYCE.

THE TRAGICALL HISTORY OF D. FAUSTUS. AS IT HATH BENE ACTED

BY THE RIGHT HONORABLE THE EARLE OF NOTTINGHAM HIS SERUANTS.

WRITTEN BY CH. MARL.

In reprinting this edition, I have here and there amended the text

by means of the later 4tos,—1616, 1624, 1631.—Of 4to 1663, which

contains various comparatively modern alterations and additions,

I have made no use.

DRAMATIS PERSONAE.

THE POPE.

CARDINAL OF LORRAIN.

THE EMPEROR OF GERMANY.

DUKE OF VANHOLT.

FAUSTUS.

VALDES, ] friends to FAUSTUS.

CORNELIUS, ]

WAGNER, servant to FAUSTUS.

Clown.

ROBIN.

RALPH.

Vintner.

Horse-courser.

A Knight.

An Old Man.

Scholars, Friars, and Attendants.

DUCHESS OF VANHOLT

LUCIFER.

BELZEBUB.

MEPHISTOPHILIS.

Good Angel.

Evil Angel.

The Seven Deadly Sins.

Devils.

Spirits in the shapes of ALEXANDER THE GREAT, of his Paramour

Chorus.

THE TRAGICAL HISTORY OF DOCTOR FAUSTUS

FROM THE QUARTO OF 1604.

CHORUS. Not marching now in fields of Thrasymene,

Where Mars did mate<1> the Carthaginians;

Nor sporting in the dalliance of love,

In courts of kings where state is overturn’d;

Nor in the pomp of proud audacious deeds,

Intends our Muse to vaunt<2> her<3> heavenly verse:

Only this, gentlemen,—we must perform

The form of Faustus’ fortunes, good or bad:

To patient judgments we appeal our plaud,

And speak for Faustus in his infancy.

Now is he born, his parents base of stock,

In Germany, within a town call’d Rhodes:

Of riper years, to Wertenberg he went,

Whereas<4> his kinsmen chiefly brought him up.

So soon he profits in divinity,

The fruitful plot of scholarism grac’d,

That shortly he was grac’d with doctor’s name,

Excelling all whose sweet delight disputes

In heavenly matters of theology;

Till swoln with cunning,<5> of a self-conceit,

His waxen wings did mount above his reach,

And, melting, heavens conspir’d his overthrow;

For, falling to a devilish exercise,

And glutted now<6> with learning’s golden gifts,

He surfeits upon cursed necromancy;

Nothing so sweet as magic is to him,

Which he prefers before his chiefest bliss:

And this the man that in his study sits.

FAUSTUS. Settle thy studies, Faustus, and begin

To sound the depth of that thou wilt profess:

Having commenc’d, be a divine in shew,

Yet level at the end of every art,

And live and die in Aristotle’s works.

Sweet Analytics, ‘tis thou<8> hast ravish’d me!

Bene disserere est finis logices.

Is, to dispute well, logic’s chiefest end?

Affords this art no greater miracle?

Then read no more; thou hast attain’d that<9> end:

A greater subject fitteth Faustus’ wit:

Bid Economy<10> farewell, and<11> Galen come,

Seeing, Ubi desinit philosophus, ibi incipit medicus:

Be a physician, Faustus; heap up gold,

And be eterniz’d for some wondrous cure:

Summum bonum medicinae sanitas,

The end of physic is our body’s health.

Why, Faustus, hast thou not attain’d that end?

Is not thy common talk found aphorisms?

Are not thy bills hung up as monuments,

Whereby whole cities have escap’d the plague,

And thousand desperate maladies been eas’d?

Yet art thou still but Faustus, and a man.

Couldst<12> thou make men<13> to live eternally,

Or, being dead, raise them to life again,

Then this profession were to be esteem’d.

Physic, farewell! Where is Justinian?

Si una eademque res legatur<14> duobus, alter rem,

alter valorem rei, &c.

A pretty case of paltry legacies!

Exhoereditare filium non potest pater, nisi, &c.<15>

Such is the subject of the institute,

And universal body of the law:<16>

This<17> study fits a mercenary drudge,

Who aims at nothing but external trash;

Too servile<18> and illiberal for me.

When all is done, divinity is best:

Jerome’s Bible, Faustus; view it well.

Stipendium peccati mors est.

The reward of sin is death: that’s hard.

Si peccasse negamus, fallimur, et nulla est in nobis veritas;

If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and

there’s no truth in us. Why, then, belike we must sin, and so

consequently die:

Ay, we must die an everlasting death.

What doctrine call you this, Che sera, sera,<19>

What will be, shall be? Divinity, adieu!

These metaphysics of magicians,

And necromantic books are heavenly;

Lines, circles, scenes,<20> letters, and characters;

Ay, these are those that Faustus most desires.

O, what a world of profit and delight,

Of power, of honour, of omnipotence,

Is promis’d to the studious artizan!

All things that move between the quiet poles

Shall be at my command: emperors and kings

Are but obeyed in their several provinces,

Nor can they raise the wind, or rend the clouds;

But his dominion that exceeds in this,

Stretcheth as far as doth the mind of man;

A sound magician is a mighty god:

Here, Faustus, tire<21> thy brains to gain a deity.

Wagner, commend me to my dearest friends,

The German Valdes and Cornelius;

Request them earnestly to visit me.

WAGNER. I will, sir.

FAUSTUS. Their conference will be a greater help to me

Than all my labours, plod I ne’er so fast.

GOOD ANGEL. O, Faustus, lay that damned book aside,

And gaze not on it, lest it tempt thy soul,

And heap God’s heavy wrath upon thy head!

Read, read the Scriptures:—that is blasphemy.

EVIL ANGEL. Go forward, Faustus, in that famous art

Wherein all Nature’s treasure<23> is contain’d:

Be thou on earth as Jove<24> is in the sky,

Lord and commander of these elements.<25>

FAUSTUS. How am I glutted with conceit of this!

Shall I make spirits fetch me what I please,

Resolve<26> me of all ambiguities,

Perform what desperate enterprise I will?

I’ll have them fly to India for gold,

Ransack the ocean for orient pearl,

And search all corners of the new-found world

For pleasant fruits and princely delicates;

I’ll have them read me strange philosophy,

And tell the secrets of all foreign kings;

I’ll have them wall all Germany with brass,

And make swift Rhine circle fair Wertenberg;

I’ll have them fill the public schools with silk,<27>

Wherewith the students shall be bravely clad;

I’ll levy soldiers with the coin they bring,

And chase the Prince of Parma from our land,

And reign sole king of all the<28> provinces;

Yea, stranger engines for the brunt of war,

Than was the fiery keel at Antwerp’s bridge,<29>

I’ll make my servile spirits to invent.

Come, German Valdes, and Cornelius,

And make me blest with your sage conference.

Valdes, sweet Valdes, and Cornelius,

Know that your words have won me at the last

To practice magic and concealed arts:

Yet not your words only,<30> but mine own fantasy,

That will receive no object; for my head

But ruminates on necromantic skill.

Philosophy is odious and obscure;

Both law and physic are for petty wits;

Divinity is basest of the three,

Unpleasant, harsh, contemptible, and vile:<31>

‘Tis magic, magic, that hath ravish’d me.

Then, gentle friends, aid me in this attempt;

And I, that have with concise syllogisms<32>

Gravell’d the pastors of the German church,

And made the flowering pride of Wertenberg

Swarm to my problems, as the infernal spirits

On sweet Musaeus when he came to hell,

Will be as cunning<33> as Agrippa<34> was,

Whose shadow<35> made all Europe honour him.

VALDES. Faustus, these books, thy wit, and our experience,

Shall make all nations to canonize us.

As Indian Moors obey their Spanish lords,

So shall the spirits<36> of every element

Be always serviceable to us three;

Like lions shall they guard us when we please;

Like Almain rutters<37> with their horsemen’s staves,

Or Lapland giants, trotting by our sides;

Sometimes like women, or unwedded maids,

Shadowing more beauty in their airy brows

Than have the<38> white breasts of the queen of love:

From<39> Venice shall they drag huge argosies,

And from America the golden fleece

That yearly stuffs old Philip’s treasury;

If learned Faustus will be resolute.

FAUSTUS. Valdes, as resolute am I in this

As thou to live: therefore object it not.

CORNELIUS. The miracles that magic will perform

Will make thee vow to study nothing else.

He that is grounded in astrology,

Enrich’d with tongues, well seen in<40> minerals,

Hath all the principles magic doth require:

Then doubt not, Faustus, but to be renowm’d,<41>

And more frequented for this mystery

Than heretofore the Delphian oracle.

The spirits tell me they can dry the sea,

And fetch the treasure of all foreign wrecks,

Ay, all the wealth that our forefathers hid

Within the massy entrails of the earth:

Then tell me, Faustus, what shall we three want?

FAUSTUS. Nothing, Cornelius. O, this cheers my soul!

Come, shew me some demonstrations magical,

That I may conjure in some lusty grove,

And have these joys in full possession.

VALDES. Then haste thee to some solitary grove,

And bear wise Bacon’s and Albertus’<42> works,

The Hebrew Psalter, and New Testament;

And whatsoever else is requisite

We will inform thee ere our conference cease.

CORNELIUS. Valdes, first let him know the words of art;

And then, all other ceremonies learn’d,

Faustus may try his cunning<43> by himself.

VALDES. First I’ll instruct thee in the rudiments,

And then wilt thou be perfecter than I.

FAUSTUS. Then come and dine with me, and, after meat,

We’ll canvass every quiddity thereof;

For, ere I sleep, I’ll try what I can do:

This night I’ll conjure, though I die therefore.

FIRST SCHOLAR. I wonder what’s become of Faustus, that was wont

to make our schools ring with sic probo.

SECOND SCHOLAR. That shall we know, for see, here comes his boy.

FIRST SCHOLAR. How now, sirrah! where’s thy master?

WAGNER. God in heaven knows.

SECOND SCHOLAR. Why, dost not thou know?

WAGNER. Yes, I know; but that follows not.

FIRST SCHOLAR. Go to, sirrah! leave your jesting, and tell us

where he is.

WAGNER. That follows not necessary by force of argument, that you,

being licentiates, should stand upon:<45> therefore acknowledge

your error, and be attentive.

SECOND SCHOLAR. Why, didst thou not say thou knewest?

WAGNER. Have you any witness on’t?

FIRST SCHOLAR. Yes, sirrah, I heard you.

WAGNER. Ask my fellow if I be a thief.

SECOND SCHOLAR. Well, you will not tell us?

WAGNER. Yes, sir, I will tell you: yet, if you were not dunces,

you would never ask me such a question; for is not he corpus

naturale? and is not that mobile? then wherefore should you

ask me such a question? But that I am by nature phlegmatic,

slow to wrath, and prone to lechery (to love, I would say),

it were not for you to come within forty foot of the place

of execution, although I do not doubt to see you both hanged

the