The Works of Christopher Marlowe

Dr. Faustus (B Text)


Act: 5 Scene: 1<< <>- -
Thunder and lightning. Enter devils with covered dishes; Mephistophilis leads them into Faustus' study. Then enter Wagner.
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 Scholars.
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 two cupids.
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.
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