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Faust. Why, Lucifer and Mephistophilis. O gentlemen, I gave them my soul for my cunning!

All. O, God forbid!

Faust. God forbade it, indeed; but Faustus hath done it for the vain pleasure of four-andtwenty years hath Faustus lost eternal joy and felicity. I writ them a bill with mine own blood: the date is expired; this is the time, and he will fetch me.

First Schol. Why did not Faustus tell us of this before, that divines might have prayed for thee?

Faust. Oft have I thought to have done so; but the devil threatened to tear me in pieces, if I named God, to fetch me body and soul, if I once gave ear to divinity: and now 'tis too late. Gentlemen, away, lest you perish with


First Schol. Tempt not God, sweet friend; but let us into the next room, and pray for him.

Faust. Ay, pray for me, pray for me; and what noise soever you hear, come not unto me, for nothing can rescue me.

Sec. Schol. Pray thou, and we will pray that God may have mercy upon thee.

Faust. Gentlemen, farewell: if I live till morning, I'll visit you; if not, Faustus is gone to hell.

All. Faustus, farewell. [Exeunt Scholars. Meph. Ay, Faustus, now thou hast no hope of heaven;

Therefore despair; think only upon hell,
For that must be thy mansion, there to dwell.
Faust. O thou bewitching fiend, 'twas thy

Hath robb'd me of eternal happiness!

Meph. I do confess it, Faustus, and rejoice: 'Twas I that, when thou wert i'the way to heaven, Damm'd up thy passage; when thou took'st the book

G. Ang. O, thou hast lost celestial happiness,
Pleasures unspeakable, bliss without end
Hadst thou affected sweet divinity,

Sec. Schol. O, what may we do to save

Hell or the devil had had no power on thee: Faust. Talk not of me, but save yourselves, Hadst thou kept on that way, Faustus, behold, and depart. [Music, while a throne descends. Third Schol. God will strengthen me; I will In what resplendent glory thou hadst sit‡ stay with Faustus.

In yonder throne, like those bright-shining saints,

And triumph'd over hell! That hast thou lost; And now, poor soul, must thy good angel leave thee:

To view the Scriptures, then I turn'd the leaves,
And led thine eye.t

*'tis] So 4to 1616.-2tos 1624, 1631, "it is."

↑ And led thine eye] A portion of this line has evidently dropt out.

What, weep'st thou? 'tis too late; despair!

Fools that will laugh on earth must weep in hell. [Exit.*

Enter Good Angel and Evil Angel at several doors.
G. Ang. O Faustus, if thou hadst given ear
to me,

Innumerable joys had follow'd thee!
But thou didst love the world.

E. Ang. Gave ear to me,

And now must taste hell-pains + perpetually.
G. Ang. O, what will all thy riches, pleasures,

Avail thee now?

E. Ang. Nothing, but vex thee more,

To want in hell, that had on earth such store.

The jaws of hell are open § to receive thee.
[Exit. The throne ascends.

E. Ang. Now, Faustus, let thine eyes with
horror stare
[Hell is discovered.
Into that vast perpetual torture-house:
There are the Furies tossing damned souls
On burning forks; there bodies boil || in lead;
There are live quarters broiling on the coals,
That ne'er can die; this ever-burning chair
Is for o'er-tortur'd souls to rest them in;
These that are fed with sops of flaming fire,
Were gluttons, and lov'd only delicates,
And laugh'd to see the poor starve at their gates:
But yet all these are nothing; thou shalt see
Ten thousand tortures that more horrid be.

Faust. O, I have seen enough to torture me!
E. Ang. Nay, thou must feel them, taste the
smart of all:

* Exit] It seems doubtful whether Lucifer and Belzebub should also make their exeunt here, or whether they remain to witness the catastrophe: see p. 132, first col.

↑ hell-pains] So 4tos 1624, 1631.-2to 1616 “hels paines." sit] So 4tos 1624, 1631.-2to 1616 "set."

§ are open] So 4to 1616.-2tos 1624, 1631, "is readie." boil] So 4tos 1624, 1631.-2to 1616 "broyle."

No end is limited to damned souls.
Why wert thou not a creature wanting soul?
Or why is this immortal that thou hast?
O, Pythagoras' metempsychosis, were that true,
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,
The devil will come, and Faustus must be And fall into the ocean, ne'er be found!


He that loves pleasure must for pleasure fall:
And so I leave thee, Faustus, till anon;
Then wilt thou tumble in confusion.

[Brit. Hell disappears.-The clock strikes eleven. Faust. O Faustus,

Now hast thou but one bare hour to live,
And then thou must be damn'd perpetually!
Stand still, you ever-moving spheres of heaven,
That time may cease, and midnight never come;
Fair Nature's eye, rise, rise again, and make
Perpetual day; or let this hour be but
A year, a month, a week, a natural day,
That Faustus may repent and save his soul!
O lente, lente currite, noctis equiĮ
The stars move still, time runs, the clock will


O, I'll leap up to heaven!-Who pulls me down?

See, where Christ's blood streams in the

One drop of blood will save me: O my Christ!-
Rend not my heart for naming of my Christ;
Yet will I call on him: O, spare me, Lucifer!-
Where is it now? 'tis gone:

And, see, a threatening arm, an† angry brow!
Mountains and hills, come, come, and fall on me,
And hide me from the heavy wrath of heaven!

Then will I headlong run into the earth:
Gape, earth! O, no, it will not harbour me!
You stars that reign'd at my nativity,
Whose influence hath‡ allotted death and hell,
Now draw up Faustus, like a foggy mist,
Into the entrails of yon § labouring cloud[s],
That, when you ll vomit forth into the air,
My limbs may issue from your smoky mouths;
But let my soul mount and ascend to heaven!
[The clock strikes the half-hour.
O, half the hour is past! 'twill all be past anon.
O, if my soul must suffer for my sin,
Impose some end to my incessant pain;
Let Faustus live in hell a thousand years,
A hundred thousand, and at last ** be sav'd!

*See, where Christ's blood streams in the firmament] So 4tos 1624, 1631.-Not in 4to 1616.

tan] So 4to 1616.-2tos 1624, 1631, "and." thath] So 4to 1616.-2tos 1624, 1631, "haue."

§ yon] So 4to 1616.-2tos 1624, 1631, "your." you, &c.] See note, p. 101.

¶ 0, if, &c.] 2to 1604, in the corresponding passage, has "Oh, God, if," &c. (seo p. 101, sec. col.), and that reading seems necessary for the sense.

** at last] So 4to 1616.-2tos 1624, 1631, "at the last."

Thunder. Enter Devils.

O, mercy, heaven! look not so fierce on me!
Adders and serpents, let me breathe a while!
Ugly hell, gape not! come not, Lucifer!
I'll burn my books !-O Mephistophilis !
[Exeunt Devils with FAUSTUS.

Enter Scholars.*

First Schol. Come, gentlemen, let us go visit

For such a dreadful night was never seen;
Since first the world's creation did begin,
Such fearful shrieks and cries were never heard:
Pray heaven the doctor have escap'd the danger.
Sec. Schol. O, help us, heaven !† see, here are
Faustus' limbs,

All torn asunder by the hand of death!
Third Schol. The devils whom Faustus serv'd
have torn him thus;

For, twixt the hours of twelve and one, me-

I heard him shriek and call aloud for help;
At which self § time the house seem'd all on fire
With dreadful horror of these damnèd fiends.

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And all the students, cloth'd in mourning black, Shall wait upon his heavy funeral.


Enter Chorus.

Chor. Cut is the branch that might have grown full straight,

And burned is Apollo's laurel-bough,

That sometime grew within this learned man.
Faustus is gone: regard his hellish fall,
Whose fiendful fortune may exhort the wise,
Only to wonder at unlawful things,
Whose deepness doth entice such forward wits
To practise more than heavenly power permits.
Terminat hora diem; terminat auctor opus.


[In the course of the notes on the earlier Faustus several extracts have been given from the prose History of Doctor Faustus; and the following ballad on the same subject may properly find a place here. It is now re-printed from a copy in The Roxburghe Collection, vol. ii. 235, Brit. Museum.]

The Judgment of God shewed upon one John Faustus, Doctor in Divinity.

Tune of Fortune, my Foe.

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