Thunder and lightning. Enter devils with covered
dishes; Mephistophilis leads them into
Faustus' study. Then enter
I think my master means to die shortly. He hath made
his will, and given me his wealth, his house, his goods, and store of
golden plate, besides two thousand ducats ready coined. I
wonder what he means. If death were nie, he would not fro-
lick thus. He's now at supper with the scholars, where there's
such belly-cheer, as Wagner in his life ne'er saw the like. And
see where they come; belike the feast is done. Exit.
Enter Faustus, Mephistophilis, and two or three
Master. Doctor Faustus, since our conference about
fair ladies, which was the beautifullest in all the world, we
have determined with ourselves that Helen of Greece was
the admirablest lady that ever lived. Therefore, Master. Doctor, if
you will do us so much favor, as to let us see that peerless
dame of Greece, whom all the world admires for majesty, we
should think ourselves much beholding unto you.
Gentlemen, for that I know your friendship is unfeigned,
It is not Faustus' custom to deny
The just request of those that wish him well.
You shall behold that peerless dame of Greece,
No otherwise for pomp or majesty,
Than when Sir Paris cross the seas with her,
And brought the spoils to rich Dardania.
Be silent then, for danger is in words.
Music sounds. Mephistophilis brings in Helen; she passeth
over the stage.
Was this fair Helen whose admired worth
Made Greece with ten years wars afflict poor Troy?
Too simple is my wit to tell her worth,
Whom all the world admires for majesty.
Now we have seen the pride of nature's work,
We'll take our leaves, and for this blessed sight
Happy and blest be Faustus evermore. Exeunt Scholars.
Gentlemen, farewell; the same wish I to you.
Enter an Old Man.
O, gentle Faustus, leave this damned art,
This magic, that will charm thy soul to hell,
And quite bereave thee of salvation.
Though thou hast now offended like a man,
Do not persever in it like a devil.
Yet, yet, thou hast an amiable soul,
If sin by custom grow not into nature;
Then, Faustus, will repentance come too late,
Then thou art banished from the sight of heaven;
No mortal can express the pains of hell.
It may be this my exhortation
Seems harsh, and all unpleasant; let it not,
For, gentle son, I speak it not in wrath,
Or envy of thee, but in tender love,
And pity of thy future misery.
And so have hope, that this my kind rebuke,
Checking thy body, may amend thy soul.
Where art thou, Faustus? Wretch, what hast thou done?
Hell claims his right, and with a roaring voice
Says, Faustus, come, thine hour is almost come, Mephistophilis
And Faustus now will come to do thee right.
O stay, good Faustus, stay thy desperate steps.
I see an angel hover o'er thy head,
And with a vial full of precious grace,
Offers to pour the same into thy soul,
Then call for mercy, and avoid despair.
O, friend, I feel thy words to comfort my distressed soul.
Leave me a while, to ponder on my sins.
Faustus, I leave thee, but with grief of heart,
Fearing the enemy of thy hapless soul. Exit.
Accursed Faustus, wretch what hast thou done?
I do repent, and yet I do despair,
Hell strives with grace for conquest in my breast.
What shall I do to shun the snares of death?
Thou traitor, Faustus, I arrest thy soul,
For disobedience to my sovereign lord.
Revolt, or I'll in piecemeal tear thy flesh.
I do repent I e'er offended him.
Sweet Mephistophilis, entreat thy lord
To pardon my unjust presumption,
And with my blood again I will confirm
The former vow I made to Lucifer.
Do it then, Faustus, with unfeigned heart,
Lest greater dangers do attend thy drift.
Torment, sweet friend, that base and aged man,
That durst dissuade me from thy Lucifer,
With greatest torment that our hell affords.
His faith is great; I cannot touch his soul,
But what I may afflict his body with,
I will attempt, which is but little worth.
One thing, good servant, let me crave of thee
To glut the longing of my heart's desire,
That I may have unto my paramour,
That heavenly Helen, which I saw of late,
Whose sweet embraces may extinguish clear
Those thoughts that do dissuade me from my vow,
And keep my vow I made to Lucifer.
This, or what else my Faustus shall desire,
Shall be performed in twinkling of an eye.
Enter Helen again, passing over between
Was this the face that launched a thousand ships,
And burnt the topless towers of Ilium?
Sweet Helen, make me immortal with a kiss.
Her lips suck forth my soul; see where it flies.
Come, Helen, come, give me my soul again.
Here will I dwell, for heaven is in these lips,
And all is dross that is not Helena.
I will be Paris, and for love of thee,
Instead of Troy shall Wittenberg be sacked,
And I will combat with weak Menelaus,
And wear thy colours on my plumed crest.
Yea, I will wound Achilles in the heel,
And then return to Helen for a kiss.
O, thou art fairer than the evening's air
Clad in the beauty of a thousand stars.
Brighter art thou then flaming Jupiter,
When he appeared to hapless Semele,
More lovely than the Monarch of the sky,
In wanton Arethusa's azure arms,
And none but thou shalt be my paramour. Exeunt.
Thunder. Enter Lucifer, Beelzebub, and Mephistophilis.
Thus from infernal Dis do we ascend
To view the subjects of our monarchy,
Those souls which sin, seals the black sons of hell,
'Mong which as chief, Faustus, we come to thee,
Bringing with us lasting damnation,
To wait upon thy soul. The time is come
Which makes it forfeit.
And this gloomy night,
Here in this room will wretched Faustus be.
And here we'll stay,
To mark him how he doth demean himself.
How should he, but in desperate lunacy?
Fond worldling, now his heart blood dries with grief;
His conscience kills it, and his labouring brain,
Begets a world of idle fantasies,
To overreach the devil, but all in vain.
His store of pleasures must be sauced with pain.
He and his servant Wagner are at hand.
Both come from drawing Faustus' latest will.
See where they come. Enter Faustus and Wagner.
Say, Wagner, thou hast perused my will;
How dost thou like it?
Sir, so wondrous well,
As in all humble duty, I do yield
My life and lasting service for your love.
Enter the Scholars.
Gramercies, Wagner. Welcome, gentlemen.
Now worthy Faustus, me thinks your looks are changed.
Ah, my sweet chamber-fellow, had I lived with thee,
Then had I lived still, but now must die eternally.
Look, sirs, comes he not? Comes he not?
O my dearFaustus, what imports this fear?
Is all our pleasure turned to melancholy?
He is not well with being over solitary.
If it be so, we'll have physicians, and Faustus shall be cured.
Tis but a surfeit sir; fear nothing.
A surfeit of deadly sin, that hath damned both body
Yet, Faustus, look up to heaven, and remember mercy is
But Faustus' offense can ne'er be pardoned;
The serpent that tempted Eve may be saved,
But not Faustus. O, gentlemen, hear with patience, and trem-
ble not at my speeches. Though my heart pant and quiver to re-
member that I have been a student here these thirty years, O
would I had never seen Wittenberg, 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 of
the Blessed, the Kingdom of joy, and must remain in hell
forever. Hell, O, hell forever. Sweet friends, what shall, be- shall be-
come of Faustus being in hell forever?
Yet Faustus, call on God.
On God, whom Faustus hath abjured? On God, whom
Faustus hath blasphemed? O my God, I would weep, but the
Devil draws in my tears. Gush forth blood instead of of
tears, yea life and soul. Oh, he stays my tongue. I would
lift up my hands, but see they hold 'em, they hold 'em.
Why, Lucifer and Mephistophilis. O, gentlemen,
I gave them my soul for my cunning.
O, God forbid.
God forbade it indeed but Faustus hath done it. For
the vain pleasure of four and twenty years hath Faustus
lost eternal joy and felicity. I writ them a bill with mine
own blood; the date is expired: this is the time, and he will
Why did not Faustus tell us of this before, that divines
might have prayed for thee?
Oft have I thought to have done so, but the Devil
threatened to tear me in pieces if I named God, to fetch me,
body and soul, if I once gave ear to divinity. And now
'ts too late. Gentlemen, away, lest you perish with
O what may we do to save Faustaus?
Talk not of me, but save yourselves and depart.
God will strengthen me; I will stay with Faustus.
Tempt not God, sweet friend, but let us into the next
room, and pray for him.
Ay, pray for me, pray for me. And what noise soever
you hear, come not unto me, for nothing can rescue me.
Pray, thou, and we will pray, that God may have mer-
cy upon thee.
Gentlemen, farewell. If I live 'til morning, I'll vi-
sit you. If not, Faustus is gone to hell.
Faustus, farewell. Exeunt Scholars.
I Faustus, now thou hast no hope of heaven,
Therefore despair; think only upon hell,
For that must be thy mansion, there to dwell.
O, thou bewitching fiend, 'twas thy temptation,
Hath robbed me of eternal happiness.
I do confess it Faustus, and rejoice;
Twas I, that when thou were't i'the way to heaven,
Damned up thy passage; when thou took'st the book,
To view the scriptures, then I turned the leaves
And led thine eye.
What weep'st thou? 'Tis too late; despair. Farewell.
Fools that will laugh on earth, most weep in hell. Exit.
Enter the Good Angel, and the Evil Angel at
Oh Faustus, if thou had'st given ear to me,
Innumerable joys had followed thee.
But thou did'st love the world.
Gave ear to me,
And now must taste hell's pains perpetually.
O, what will all thy riches, pleasures, pomps,
Avail thee now?
Nothing but vex thee more,
To want in hell, that had on earth such store.
Music while the throne descends.
O, thou hast lost celestial happiness,
Pleasures unspeakable, bliss without end.
Had'st thou affected sweet divinity,
Hell, or the Devil, had had no power on thee.
Had'st thou kept on that way, Faustus behold,
In what resplendent glory thou had'st set
In yonder throne, like those bright shining Saints,
And triumphed over hell. That hast thou lost,
And now poor soul must thy good angel leave thee.
The jaws of hell are open to receive thee. Exit.
Hell is discovered.
Now, Faustus, let shine eyes with horror stare
Into that vast perpetual torture-house.
There are the Furies tossing damned souls,
On burning forks; their bodies broil in lead.
There are live quarters broiling on the coals,
That ne'er can die. This ever-burning chair,
Is for o'er-tortured souls to rest them in.
These, that are fed with sops of flaming fire,
Were gluttons, and loved only delicates,
And laughed to see the poor starve at their gates.
But yet all these are nothing; thou shalt see
Ten thousand tortures that more horrid be.
O, I have seen enough to torture me.
Nay, thou must feel them, taste the smart of all.
He that loves pleasure, must for pleasure fall.
And so I leave thee, Faustus, till anon.
Then wilt thou tumble in confusion. Exit.
The clock strikes eleven.
Now hast thou but one bare hour to live,
And then thou must be damned perpetually.
Stand still, you ever-moving spheres of heaven,
That time may cease, and midnight never come.
Fair nature's eye, rise, rise again and make
Perpetual day. Or let this hour be but a year,
A month, a week, a natural day,
That Faustus may repent, and save his soul.
O lente lente currite noctis equi.
The stars move still, time runs, the clock will strike.
The devil will come, and Faustus must be damned.
O, I'll leap up to heaven; who pulls me down?
One drop of blood will save me.
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 a threatening arm, an angry brow.
Mountains and hills, come, come, and fall on me,
And hide me from the heavy wrath of heaven.
No? Then will I headlong run into the earth.
Gape, earth! O no, it will not harbour me.
You stars that reigned at my nativity,
Whose influence hath allotted death and hell,
Now draw up Faustus like a foggy mist,
Into the entrails of yon labouring cloud,
That when you vomit forth into the air,
My limbs may issue from your smokey mouths,
But let my soul mount, and ascend to heaven.
The watch strikes.
O, half the hour is past! 'Twill all be past anon.
O, if my soul must suffer for my sin,
Impose some end to my incessant pain.
Let Faustus live in hell a thousand years,
A hundred thousand, and at last be saved.
No end is limited to damned souls.
Why wert thou not a creature wanting soul?
Or why is this immortal that thou hast?
Oh ppstêagoras' metempsychosis' were that true,
This soul should fly from me, and I be changed
Into some brutish beast.
All beasts are happy, for when they die,
Their souls are soon dissolved in elements,
But mine must live still to be plagued in hell.
Cursed be the parents that engendered me;
No, Faustus, curse thyself. Curse Lucifer
That hath deprived thee of the joys of heaven.
The clock strikes twelve
It strikes, it strikes! Now body turn to air,
Or Lucifer will bear thee quick to hell.
O soul be changed into small water drops,
And fall into the ocean ne'er be found.
Thunder, and enter the devils.
O mercy, heaven! Look not so fierce on me;
Adders and serpents let me breathe awhile.
Ugly hell, gape not; come not Lucifer!
I'll burn my books! Oh, Mephistophilis! Exeunt.
Enter the Scholars.
Come ,gentlemen, let us go visit Faustus,
For such a dreadful night, was never seen,
Since first the world's creation did begin.
Such fearful shrieks, and cries, were never heard.
Pray heaven the Doctor have escaped the danger.
O help us heaven! See, here are Faustus' limbs,
All torn asunder by the hand of death.
The devils whom Faustus served have torn him thus;
For 'twixt the hours of twelve and one, me thought
I heard him shriek and call aloud for help,
At which self time the house seemed all on fire
With dreadful horror of these damned fiends.
Well, gentlemen, though Faustus' end be such
As every Christian heart laments to think on,
Yet for he was a scholar, once admired
For wondrous knowledge in our German schools,
We'll give his mangled limbs due burial.
And all the students clothed in mourning black,
Shall wait upon his heavy funeral.
Cut is the branch that might have grown full straight
And burned is Apollo's laurel bough,
That sometime grew within this learned man.
Faustus is gone; regard his hellish fall,
Whose fiendful fortune may exhort the wise
Only to wonder at unlawful things,
Whose deepness doth entice such forward wits,
To practice more than heavenly power permits.
Terminat hora diem,terminat auctor opus.