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  • The Tragicall History of the Life and Death of Doctor Faustus (1616)
  • Act 1
  • Act 1
  • Act 2
  • Act 3
  • Act 4
  • Act 4
  • Act 5
  • Christopher Marlowe, The Tragedie of Doctor Faustus (B text) (ed. Hilary Binda)

    From;query=toc;layout=;loc=1, a marginally functional Perseus mirror-site; please cite that source not this one


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    A Senit. Charles the Germane Emperour, Bruno
    Saxony, Faustus, Mephostophilis, Frede-
    ricke Martino, and Atten-

    Wonder of men, renown'd Magitian,
    Thrice learned Faustus, welcome to our Court
    This deed of thine, in setting Bruno free
    From his and our professed enemy,
    Shall adde more excellence vnto thine Art,
    Then if by powerfull Necromantick spels,
    Thou couldst command the worlds obedience:
    For euer be belou'd of Carolus.
    And if this Bruno thou hast late redeem'd,
    In peace possesse the triple Diadem,
    And sit in Peters Chaire, despite of chance,
    Thou shalt be famous through all Italy,
    And honour'd of the Germane Emperour.
    These gracious words, most royall Carolus,
    Shall make poore Faustus to his vtmost power,
    Both loue and serue the Germane Emperour,
    And lay his life at holy Bruno's feet.
    For proofe whereof, if so your Grace be pleas'd,
    The Doctor stands prepar'd, by power of Art,
    To cast his Magicke charmes, that shall pierce through
    The Ebon gates of euer-burning hell,
    And hale the stubborne Furies from their caues,
    To compasse whatsoere your grace commands.


    Bloud he speakes terribly: but for all that, I doe not
    greatly beleeue him, he lookes as like Coniurer as the Pope to a Coster-

    Then Faustus as thou late didst promise vs
    We would behold that famous Conquerour,
    Great Alexander, and his Paramour,
    In their true shapes, and state Maiesticall,
    That we may wonder at their excellence.
    Your Maiesty shall see them presently,

    Mephosto away.

    And with a solemne noyse of trumpets sound,
    Present before this royall Emperour,
    Great Alexander and his beauteous Paramour.


    Faustus I will.


    Well M. Doctor, an your Diuels come not away
    quickly, haue me asleepe presently: zounds I could
    eate my anger, to thinke I haue beene such an Asse
    all this stand gaping after the diuels Gouernor, and
    can see nothing.


    Il'e make you feele something anon, if my Art faile
    me not.

    My Lord, I must forewarne your Maiesty,
    That when my Spirits present the royall shapes
    Of Alexander and his Paramour,
    Your grace demand no questions of the King,
    But in dumbe silence let them come and goe.
    Be it as Faustus please, we are content.


    I, I, and I am content too: and thou bring Alex-
    ander and his Paramour before the Emperour, Il'e be Acte-
    on, and turne my selfe to a Stagge.


    And Il'e play Diana, and send you the hornes pre-

    Senit. Enter at one the Emperour Alexander, at the other
    Darius;they meete, Darius is throwne downe, Alexan-
    der kils him; takes off his Crowne, and offering to goe
    out, his Paramour meetes him, he embraceth her, and
    sets Darius Crowne upon her head; and com-
    mig backe, both salute the Emperour,
    who leauing his State, offers to em-
    brace them, which Faustus seeing,
    suddenly staies him. Then trum-
    pets cease, and Musicke

    My gracious Lord, you doe forget your selfe;
    These are but shadowes, not substantiall.
    O pardon me, my thoughts are so rauished
    With sight of this renowned Emperour,
    That in mine armes I would haue compast him.
    But Faustus, since I may not speake to them,
    To satisfie my longing thoughts at full,
    Let me this tell thee: I haue heard it said,
    That this faire Lady, whilest she liu'd on earth,
    Had on her necke a little wart, or mole;
    How may I proue that saying to be true?
    Your Maiesty may boldly goe and see.
    Faustus I see it plaine,
    And in this sight thou better pleasest me,
    Then if I gain'd another Monarchie.
    Away, be gone. Exit Show.

    See, see, my gracious Lord, what strange beast is yon, that
    thrusts his head out at window.

    O wondrous sight: see Duke of Saxony,
    Two spreading hornes most strangely fastened
    Upon the head of yong Benvolio.
    What is he asleepe, or dead?
    He sleeps my Lord, but dreames not of his hornes.


    This sport is excellent: wee'l call and wake him.
    What ho, Benvolio.

    A plague vpon you, let me sleepe a while.


    I blame thee not to sleepe much, hauing such a head
    of thine owne.

    Looke vp Benvolio, tis the Emperour calls.
    The Emperour? where? O zounds my head.


    Nay, and thy horns hold, tis no matter for thy
    head, for that's arm'd sufficiently.


    Why how now sir Knight, what hang'd by the
    horns? this most horrible: fie, fie, pull in your head for shame,
    let not all the world wonder at you.

    Zounds Doctor, is this your villany?
    O say not so sir: the Doctor has no skill,
    No Art, no cunning, to present these Lords,
    Or bring before this royall Emperour
    The mightie Monarch, warlicke Alexander.
    If Faustus do it, you are streight resolu'd,
    In bold Acteons shape to turne a Stagge.
    And therefore my Lord, so please your Maiesty,
    I'le raise a kennelll of Hounds shall hunt him so
    As all his footmanship shall scarce preuaile,
    To keepe his Carkasse from their bloudy phangs.
    Ho, Belimote, Argiron, Asterote.


    Hold, hold: zounds hee'l raise vp a kennell of Diuels
    I thinke anon: good my Lord intreate for me: 'sbloud I am
    neuer able to endure these torments.

    Then good M. Doctor,
    Let me intreate you to remoue his hornes,
    He has done penance now sufficiently.


    My gracious Lord, not so much for iniury done to
    me, as to delight your Maiesty with some mirth: hath Faustus
    iustly requited this iniurious knight' which being all I de-
    sire, I am content to remoue his hornes. Mephastophilis,
    transforme him; and hereafter sir, looke you speake well of


    Speake well of yee? 'sbloud and Schollers be such
    Cuckold-makers to clap hornes of honest mens heades o'this
    order, Il'e nere trust smooth faces, and small ruffes more. But
    an I be not reueng'd for this, would I might be turn'd to a
    gaping Oyster, and drinke nothing but salt water.

    Come Faustus whle the Emperour liues,
    In recompence of this thy high desert,
    Thou shalt command the state of Germany,
    And liue belou'd of mightie Carolus. Exeunt omnes.

    Tufts University provided support for entering this text.

    This text is based on the following book(s):
    OCLC: 921140

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