FAUSTUS. Ay, go, accursed spirit, to ugly hell!
’Tis thou hast damn’d distressed Faustus’ soul.
Is’t not too late?
Re-enter GOOD ANGEL and EVIL ANGEL.
EVIL ANGEL. Too late.
GOOD ANGEL. Never too late, if Faustus will repent.
EVIL ANGEL. If thou repent, devils will tear thee in pieces.
GOOD ANGEL. Repent, and they shall never raze thy skin.
[Exeunt ANGELS.]
FAUSTUS. O Christ, my Saviour, my Saviour
Help to save distressed Faustus’ soul!
Enter LUCIFER, BELZEBUB, and MEPHISTOPHILIS.
LUCIFER. Christ cannot save thy soul, for he is just:
There’s none but I have interest in the same.
FAUSTUS. O, what art thou that look’st so terribly?
LUCIFER. I am Lucifer,
And this is my companion-prince in hell.
FAUSTUS. O Faustus, they are come to fetch thy soul!
BELZEBUB. We are come to tell thee thou dost injure us.
LUCIFER. Thou call’st of Christ, contrary to thy promise.
BELZEBUB. Thou shouldst not think on God.
LUCIFER. Think of the devil.
BELZEBUB. And his dam too.
FAUSTUS. Nor will Faustus henceforth: pardon him for this,
And Faustus vows never to look to heaven.
LUCIFER. So shalt thou shew thyself an obedient servant,
And we will highly gratify thee for it.
BELZEBUB. Faustus, we are come from hell in person to shew thee
some pastime: sit down, and thou shalt behold the Seven Deadly
Sins appear to thee in their own proper shapes and likeness.
FAUSTUS. That sight will be as pleasant unto me,
As Paradise was to Adam the first day
Of his creation.
LUCIFER. Talk not of Paradise or creation; but mark the show. —
Go, Mephistophilis, and fetch them in.
MEPHISTOPHILIS brings in the SEVEN DEADLY SINS.
BELZEBUB. Now, Faustus, question them of their names and
dispositions.
FAUSTUS. That shall I soon. — What art thou, the first?
PRIDE. I am Pride. I disdain to have any parents. I am like to
Ovid’s flea; I can creep into every corner of a wench; sometimes,
like a perriwig, I sit upon her brow; next, like a necklace, I hang
about her neck; then, like a fan of feathers, I kiss her lips;
and then, turning myself to a wrought smock, do what I list.
But, fie, what a smell is here! I’ll not speak a word more for
a king’s ransom, unless the ground be perfumed, and covered with
cloth of arras.
FAUSTUS. Thou art a proud knave, indeed. — What art thou, the second?
COVETOUSNESS. I am Covetousness, begotten of an old churl, in a
leather bag: and, might I now obtain my wish, this house, you,
and all, should turn to gold, that I might lock you safe into
my chest: O my sweet gold!
FAUSTUS. And what art thou, the third?
ENVY. I am Envy, begotten of a chimney-sweeper and an oyster-wife.
I cannot read, and therefore wish all books burned. I am lean
with seeing others eat. O, that there would come a famine over
all the world, that all might die, and I live alone! then thou
shouldst see how fat I’d be. But must thou sit, and I stand?
come down, with a vengeance!
FAUSTUS. Out, envious wretch! — But what art thou, the fourth?
WRATH. I am Wrath. I had neither father nor mother: I leapt
out of a lion’s mouth when I was scarce an hour old; and ever
since have run up and down the world with this case of
rapiers, wounding myself when I could get none to fight withal.
I was born in hell; and look to it, for some of you shall be my
father.
FAUSTUS. And what art thou, the fifth?
GLUTTONY. I am Gluttony. My parents are all dead, and the devil
a penny they have left me, but a small pension, and that buys me
thirty meals a-day and ten bevers, — a small trifle to suffice
nature. I come of a royal pedigree: my father was a Gammon
of Bacon, my mother was a Hogshead of Claret-wine; my godfathers
were these, Peter Pickled-herring and Martin Martlemas-beef; but
my godmother, O, she was an ancient gentlewoman; her name was
Margery March-beer. Now, Faustus, thou hast heard all my progeny;
wilt thou bid me to supper?
FAUSTUS. Not I.
GLUTTONY. Then the devil choke thee!
FAUSTUS. Choke thyself, glutton! — What art thou, the sixth?
SLOTH. Heigho! I am Sloth. I was begotten on a sunny bank.
Heigho! I’ll not speak a word more for a king’s ransom.
FAUSTUS. And what are you, Mistress Minx, the seventh and last?
LECHERY. Who, I, sir? I am one that loves an inch of raw
mutton better than an ell of fried stock-fish; and the first
letter of my name begins with L.
LUCIFER. Away to hell, away! On, piper!
[Exeunt the SINS.]
FAUSTUS. O, how this sight doth delight my soul!
LUCIFER. Tut, Faustus, in hell is all manner of delight.
FAUSTUS. O, might I see hell, and return again safe,
How happy were I then!
LUCIFER. Faustus, thou shalt; at midnight I will send for thee.
Meanwhile peruse this book and view it throughly,
And thou shalt turn thyself into what shape thou wilt.
FAUSTUS. Thanks, mighty Lucifer!
This will I keep as chary as my life.
LUCIFER. Now, Faustus, farewell.
FAUSTUS. Farewell, great Lucifer.
[Exeunt LUCIFER and BELZEBUB.]
Come, Mephistophilis.
[Exeunt.]
Enter ROBIN, with a book.
ROBIN. What, Dick! look to the horses there, till I come again.
I have gotten one of Doctor Faustus’ conjuring-books; and now
we’ll have such knavery as’t passes.
Enter DICK.
DICK. What, Robin! you must come away and walk the horses.
ROBIN. I walk the horses! I scorn’t, faith: I have other
matters in hand: let the horses walk themselves, an they will. —
[Reads.]
A per se, a; t, h, e, the; o per se, o; Demy orgon gorgon. —
Keep further from me, O thou illiterate and unlearned hostler!
DICK. ‘Snails, what hast thou got there? a book! why, thou canst
not tell ne’er a word on’t.
ROBIN. That thou shalt see presently: keep out of the circle,
I say, lest I send you into the ostry with a vengeance.
DICK. That’s like, faith! you had best leave your foolery; for,
an my master come, he’ll conjure you, faith.
ROBIN. My master conjure me! I’ll tell thee what; an my master
come here, I’ll clap as fair a pair of horns on’s head as
e’er thou sawest in thy life.
DICK. Thou need’st not do that, for my mistress hath done it.
ROBIN. Ay, there be of us here that have waded as deep into
matters as other men, if they were disposed to talk.
DICK. A plague take you! I thought you did not sneak up and down
after her for nothing. But, I prithee, tell me in good sadness,
Robin, is that a conjuring-book?
ROBIN. Do but speak what thou’lt have me to do, and I’ll do’t:
if thou’lt dance naked, put off thy clothes, and I’ll conjure
thee about presently; or, if thou’lt go but to the tavern with
me, I’ll give thee white wine, red wine, claret-wine, s
ack,
muscadine, malmsey, and whippincrust, hold, belly, hold; and
we’ll not pay one penny for it.
DICK. O, brave! Prithee, let’s to it presently, for I am as
dry as a dog.
ROBIN. Come, then, let’s away.
[Exeunt.]
Enter CHORUS.
CHORUS. Learned Faustus,
To find the secrets of astronomy
Graven in the book of Jove’s high firmament,
Did mount him up to scale Olympus’ top;
Where, sitting in a chariot burning bright,
Drawn by the strength of yoked dragons’ necks,
He views the clouds, the planets, and the stars,
The tropic zones, and quarters of the sky,
From the bright circle of the horned moon
Even to the height of Primum Mobile;
And, whirling round with this circumference,
Within the concave compass of the pole,
From east to west his dragons swiftly glide,
And in eight days did bring him home again.
Not long he stay’d within his quiet house,
To rest his bones after his weary toil;
But new exploits do hale him out again:
And, mounted then upon a dragon’s back,
That with his wings did part the subtle air,
He now is gone to prove cosmography,
That measures coasts and kingdoms of the earth;
And, as I guess, will first arrive at Rome,
To see the Pope and manner of his court,
And take some part of holy Peter’s feast,
The which this day is highly solemniz’d.
[Exit.]
Enter FAUSTUS and MEPHISTOPHILIS.
FAUSTUS. Having now, my good Mephistophilis,
Pass’d with delight the stately town of Trier,
Environ’d round with airy mountain-tops,
With walls of flint, and deep-entrenched lakes,
Not to be won by any conquering prince;
From Paris next, coasting the realm of France,
We saw the river Maine fall into Rhine,
Whose banks are set with groves of fruitful vines;
Then up to Naples, rich Campania,
Whose buildings fair and gorgeous to the eye,
The streets straight forth, and pav’d with finest brick,
Quarter the town in four equivalents:
There saw we learned Maro’s golden tomb;
The way he cut, an English mile in length,
Thorough a rock of stone, in one night’s space;
From thence to Venice, Padua, and the rest,
In one of which a sumptuous temple stands,
That threats the stars with her aspiring top,
Whose frame is pav’d with sundry-colour’d stones,
And roof’d aloft with curious work in gold.
Thus hitherto hath Faustus spent his time:
But tell me now, what resting-place is this?
Hast thou, as erst I did command,
Conducted me within the walls of Rome?
MEPHIST. I have, my Faustus; and, for proof thereof,
This is the goodly palace of the Pope;
And, ‘cause we are no common guests,
I choose his privy-chamber for our use.
FAUSTUS. I hope his Holiness will bid us welcome.
MEPHIST. All’s one, for we’ll be bold with his venison.
But now, my Faustus, that thou mayst perceive
What Rome contains for to delight thine eyes,
Know that this city stands upon seven hills
That underprop the groundwork of the same:
Just through the midst runs flowing Tiber’s stream,
With winding banks that cut it in two parts;
Over the which two stately bridges lean,
That make safe passage to each part of Rome:
Upon the bridge call’d Ponte Angelo
Erected is a castle passing strong,
Where thou shalt see such store of ordnance,
As that the double cannons, forg’d of brass,
Do match the number of the days contain’d
Within the compass of one complete year;
Beside the gates, and high pyramides,
That Julius Caesar brought from Africa.
FAUSTUS. Now, by the kingdoms of infernal rule,
Of Styx, of Acheron, and the fiery lake
Of ever-burning Phlegethon, I swear
That I do long to see the monuments
And situation of bright-splendent Rome:
Come, therefore, let’s away.
MEPHIST. Nay, stay, my Faustus: I know you’d see the Pope,
And take some part of holy Peter’s feast,
The which, in state and high solemnity,
This day, is held through Rome and Italy,
In honour of the Pope’s triumphant victory.
FAUSTUS. Sweet Mephistophilis, thou pleasest me.
Whilst I am here on earth, let me be cloy’d
With all things that delight the heart of man:
My four-and-twenty years of liberty
I’ll spend in pleasure and in dalliance,
That Faustus’ name, whilst this bright frame doth stand,
May be admir’d thorough the furthest land.
MEPHIST. ’Tis well said, Faustus. Come, then, stand by me,
And thou shalt see them come immediately.
FAUSTUS. Nay, stay, my gentle Mephistophilis,
And grant me my request, and then I go.
Thou know’st, within the compass of eight days
We view’d the face of heaven, of earth, and hell;
So high our dragons soar’d into the air,
That, looking down, the earth appear’d to me
No bigger than my hand in quantity;
There did we view the kingdoms of the world,
And what might please mine eye I there beheld.
Then in this show let me an actor be,
That this proud Pope may Faustus’ cunning see.
MEPHIST. Let it be so, my Faustus. But, first, stay,
And view their triumphs as they pass this way;
And then devise what best contents thy mind,
By cunning in thine art to cross the Pope,
Or dash the pride of this solemnity;
To make his monks and abbots stand like apes,
And point like antics at his triple crown;
To beat the beads about the friars’ pates,
Or clap huge horns upon the Cardinals’ heads;
Or any villany thou canst devise;
And I’ll perform it, Faustus. Hark! they come:
This day shall make thee be admir’d in Rome.
Enter the CARDINALS and BISHOPS, some bearing crosiers, some
the pillars; MONKS and FRIARS, singing their procession;
then the POPE, RAYMOND king of Hungary, the ARCHBISHOP
OF RHEIMS, BRUNO led in chains, and ATTENDANTS.
POPE. Cast down our footstool.
RAYMOND. Saxon Bruno, stoop,
Whilst on thy back his Holiness ascends
Saint Peter’s chair and state pontifical.
BRUNO. Proud Lucifer, that state belongs to me;
But thus I fall to Peter, not to thee.
POPE. To me and Peter shalt thou grovelling lie,
And crouch before the Papal dignity. —
Sound trumpets, then; for thus Saint Peter’s heir,
From Bruno’s back, ascends Saint Peter’s chair.
[A flourish while he ascends.]
Thus, as the gods creep on with feet of wool,
Long ere with iron hands they punish men,
So shall our sleeping vengeance now arise,
And smite with death thy hated enterprise. —
Lord Cardinals of France and Padua,
Go forthwith to our holy consistory,
And read, amongst the
statutes decretal,
What, by the holy council held at Trent,
The sacred synod hath decreed for him
That doth assume the Papal government
Without election and a true consent:
Away, and bring us word with speed.
CARDINAL OF FRANCE. We go, my lord.
[Exeunt CARDINALS of France and Padua.]
POPE. Lord Raymond.
[They converse in dumb show.]
FAUSTUS. Go, haste thee, gentle Mephistophilis,
Follow the cardinals to the consistory;
And, as they turn their superstitious books,
Strike them with sloth and drowsy idleness,
And make them sleep so sound, that in their shapes
Thyself and I may parley with this Pope,
This proud confronter of the Emperor;
And, in despite of all his holiness,
Restore this Bruno to his liberty,
And bear him to the states of Germany.
MEPHIST. Faustus, I go.
FAUSTUS. Despatch it soon:
The Pope shall curse, that Faustus came to Rome.
[Exeunt FAUSTUS and MEPHISTOPHILIS.]
BRUNO. Pope Adrian, let me have right of law:
I was elected by the Emperor.
POPE. We will depose the Emperor for that deed,
And curse the people that submit to him:
Both he and thou shall stand excommunicate,
And interdict from church’s privilege
And all society of holy men.
He grows too proud in his authority,
Lifting his lofty head above the clouds,
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