Front Page Titles (by Subject) SCENE XIV. - The Works of Christopher Marlowe vol. 1
SCENE XIV. - Christopher Marlowe, The Works of Christopher Marlowe vol. 1 
The Works of Christopher Marlowe, ed. A.H. Bullen (London: John C. Nimmo, 1885). Vol. 1.
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Enter FAUSTUS, with two or three Scholars and MEPHISTOPHILIS.
- 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 that favour, 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.
- For that I know your friendship is unfeigned,
- And Faustus' custom is not to deny
- The just requests of those that wish him well,
- You shalt behold that peerless dame of Greece,
- No otherways for pomp and majesty,
- Than when Sir Paris crossed the seas with her,
- And brought the spoils to rich Dardania.
- Be silent, then, for danger is in words.
- [Music sounds, and HELEN
- passeth wer the stage. 2nd SchoL Too simple is my wit to tell her praise, Whom all the world admires for majesty.
- No marvel though the angry Greeks pursued
- With ten years' war the rape of such a Queen,
- Whose heavenly beauty passeth all compare.
- 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.
- Gentlemen, farewell—the same I wish 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 sm 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.
- 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.”
- Ah, Doctor Faustus, that I might prevail To guide thy steps unto the way of life,
- By which sweet path thou may'st attain the goal
- That shalt conduct thee to celestial rest!
- Break heart, drop blood, and mingle it with tears,
- Tears falling from repentant heaviness
- Of thy most vild and loathsome filthiness,
- The stench whereof corrupts the inward soul
- With such flagitious crimes of heinous sins
- As no commiseration may expel,
- But Mercy, Faustus, of thy Saviour sweet,
- Whose blood alone must wash away thy guilt.
- Where art thou, Faustus? wretch, what hast thou done?
- Damned art thou, Faustus, damned; 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 the right
- [Mephistophilisgives htm a dagger.
- Ah stay, good Faustus, stay thy desperate steps!
- I see an angel hovers 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.
- Ah, my sweet friend, I feel
- Thy words do comfort my distressed soul.
- Leave me a while to ponder on my sins.
- I go, sweet Faustus, but with heavy cheer, Fearing the ruin of thy hopeless soul.
- AccursÈD Faustus, where is Mercy now?
- I do repent; and yet I do despair:
- Hell strives with grace for conquest in my breast:
- What shalt 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.
- Sweet0 Mephistophilis, entreat thy lord
- To pardon my unjust presumption.
- And with my blood again I will confirm
- My former vow I made to Lucifer.
- Do it then quickly, with unfeigned heart, Lest greater danger do attend thy drift
- [FAUSTUS stabs his arm and writes with his blood on a paper.
- Torment, sweet friend, that base and crooked age,
- That durst dissuade me from thy Lucifer,
- With greatest torments 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 might have unto my paramour
- That heavenly Helen, which I saw of late,
- Whose sweet embracings may extinguish clean
- These thoughts that do dissuade me from my vow,
- And keep mine oath I made to Lucifer.
- Faustus, this or what else thou shalt desire Shalt be performed in twinkling of an eye.
- Re-enter HELEN.
- Was this the face that launched a thousand ships And burnt the topless towers of Ilium? Sweet Helen, make me immortal with a kiss. [Kisses her.
- Her lips sucks 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, shalt Wertenberg 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.
- Oh, thou art fairer than the evening air
- Clad in the beauty of a thousand stars;
- Brighter are thou than flaming Jupiter
- When he appeared to hapless Semele:
- More lovely than the monarch of the sky
- In wanton Arethusa's azur'd arms;
- And none but thou shalt be my paramour!
- 2nd Schol. Was this fair Helen, whose admired worth
- Made Greece with ten years' wars afflict poor Troy?
- “3 yd Schol. Too simple is my wit to tell her worth,
- Whom all the world admires for majesty.
- “1 st Schol. Now we have seen the pride of Nature's work.
- We'll take our leaves; and for this blessed sight,” &c.
- “Faustus, I leave thee, but with grief of heart,
- Fearing the enemy of thy hapless soul.”
- “Loud Fame calls ye,
- Pitch'd on the topless Apennine.”