Christopher Marlowe

Christopher Marlowe

Summary

Portrait of Christopher Marlowe Christopher Marlowe The Tragical History of Doctor Faustus (1616)

This soul should fly from me, and I be chang'd
Into 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.]
It strikes, it strikes! Now, body, turn to air,
Or Lucifer will bear thee quick to hell!
O soul, be chang'd into small water-drops,
And fall into the ocean, ne'er be found!
Thunder. Enter DEVILS.
O, mercy, heaven!
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Christopher Marlowe Christopher Marlowe The Tragical History of Doctor Faustus

FAUSTUS. Now, Faustus, must Thou needs be damn'd, and canst thou not be sav'd: What boots it, then, to think of God or heaven? Away with such vain fancies, and despair; Despair in God, and trust in Belzebub: Now go not backward; no, Faustus, be resolute: Why waver'st thou? O, something soundeth in mine ears, "Abjure this magic, turn to God again!" Ay, and Faustus will turn to God again. To God? he loves thee not; The god thou serv'st is thine own appetite, Wherein is fix'd the love of Belzebub: To him I'll build an altar and a church, And offer lukewarm blood of new-born babes.
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of Christopher Marlowe Christopher Marlowe The Tragical History of Doctor Faustus (1616)

Happy and blest be Faustus evermore!
FAUSTUS. Gentlemen, farewell: the same wish I to you.
[Exeunt SCHOLARS.]
Enter an OLD MAN.
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 banish'd from the sight of heaven:
No mortal can express the pains of hell.
Source: Wikisource

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