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The Works of Christopher Marlowe

Having now my good Mephistophilis,

Passed with delight the stately town of Trier,

Environed round with airy mountain tops,

With walls of flint and deep entrenched lakes,

Not to be won by any conquering prince.

From Paris next, costing the realm of France,

We saw the river Main 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 paled with finest brick.

There saw we learned Maro's golden tomb,

The way he cut an English mile in length,

Through a rock of stone in one night's space.

From thence to Venice, Padua, and the east,

In one of which a sumptuous temple stands,

That threats the stars with her aspiring top,

Whose frame is paved with sundry coloured stones,

And roofed 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?

I hope his Holiness will bid us welcome.

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

Sweet Mephistophilis, thou pleasest me.

Whilst I am here on earth, let me be cloyed

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 admired through the furthest land.

Nay, stay my gentle Mephistophilis,

And grant me my request, and then I go.

Thou know'st within the compass of eight days,

We viewed the face of heaven of earth and hell.

So high our dragons soared into the air,

That looking down the earth appeared 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.

Go, hast 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 parly 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.

Dispatch it soon.

The Pope shall curse that Faustus came to Rome.

Exit Faustus and Mephistophilis.

Yes, Mephistophilis, and two such cardinals

Ne'er served a holy Pope, as we shall do.

But whil'st they sleep within the consistory,

Let us salute his reverend Fatherhood.

Most sacred patron of the Church of Rome,

By full consent of all the synod

Of priests and prelates, it is thus decreed

That Bruno, and the German Emperor

Be held as Lollords and bold schismatics,

And proud disturbers of the Church's peace.

And if that Bruno by his own assent,

Without enforcement of the German peers,

Did seek to wear the triple diadem,

And by your death to climb Saint Peter's chair,

The statutes decretal have thus decreed:

He shall be straight condemned of heresy,

And on a pile of fagots burnt to death.

Away, sweet Mephistophilis, be gone.

The cardinals will be plagued for this anon. Exit Faustus and Mephistophilis.

The Pope will curse them for their sloth today.

That slept both Bruno and his crown away.

But now that Faustus may delight his mind,

And by their folly make some merriment,

Sweet Mephistophilis, so charm me here,

That I may walk invisible to all,

And do what e'er I please, unseen of any.

Thanks, Mephistophilis. Now, Friars, take heed,

Lest Faustus make your shaven crowns to bleed.

So, they are safe. Now, Faustus, to the feast,

The Pope had never such a frolic guest.

Fall to, the Devil choke you an you spare.

I thank you sir. Snatches it

Ay, pray do, for Faustus is a dry.

I pledge your grace.

How now? Must every bit be spiced with a cross?

Nay, then, take that.

Bell, book, and candle: candle, book, and bell;

Forward and backward to curse Faustus to hell.

Enter the Friars with bell, book, and candle, for the dirge.

Dr. Faustus (B Text)