“Who ever loved that loved not at first sight?”
For know, that underneath this radiant floor
Was Danae’s statue in a brazen tower,
Jove slyly stealing from his sister’s bed,
To dally with Idalian Ganymede,
And for his love Europa bellowing loud,
And tumbling with the Rainbow in a cloud;
Blood quaffing Mars heaving the iron net
Which limping Vulcan and his Cyclops set;
Love kindling fire to burn such towns as Troy;
Sylvanus weeping for the lovely boy
That now is turned into a cypress tree,
Under whose shade the wood gods love to be.
And in the midst a silver altar stood.
There Hero, sacrificing turtle’s blood,
Vailed to the ground, vailing her eyelids close,
And modestly they opened as she rose.
Thence flew Love’s arrow with the golden head,
And thus Leander was enamoured.
Stone still he stood, and evermore he gazed
Till with the fire that from his countenance blazed
Relenting Hero’s gentle heart was strook.
Such force and virtue hath an amorous look.
It lies not in our power to love or hate,
For will in us is overruled by fate.
When two are stripped, long ere the course begin
We wish that one should lose, the other win.
And one especially do we affect
Of two gold ingots like in each respect.
The reason no man knows; let it suffice
What we behold is censured by our eyes.
Where both deliberate, the love is slight:
Who ever loved, that loved not at first sight?
He kneeled, but unto her devoutly prayed.
Chaste Hero to herself thus softly said,
“Were I the saint he worships, I would hear him;”
And, as she spake those words, came somewhat near him.
He started up, she blushed as one ashamed,
Wherewith Leander much more was inflamed.
He touched her hand; in touching it she trembled.
Love deeply grounded, hardly is dissembled.
These lovers parleyed by the touch of hands;
True love is mute, and oft amazed stands.
Thus while dumb signs their yielding hearts entangled,
The air with sparks of living fire was spangled,
And night, deep drenched in misty Acheron,
Heaved up her head, and half the world upon
Breathed darkness forth (dark night is Cupid’s day).
And now begins Leander to display
Love’s holy fire, with words, with sighs, and tears,
Which like sweet music entered Hero’s ears,
And yet at every word she turned aside,
And always cut him off as he replied.
At last, like to a bold sharp sophister,
With cheerful hope thus he accosted her.
“When all the world dissolves, / And every creature shall be purified, / All place shall be hell that is not heaven.”
I, JOHN FAUSTUS, OF WERTENBERG, DOCTOR, BY
THESE PRESENTS, DO GIVE BOTH BODY AND SOUL TO LUCIFER PRINCE OF
THE EAST, AND HIS MINISTER MEPHISTOPHILIS; AND FURTHERMORE GRANT
UNTO THEM, THAT,[89] TWENTY-FOUR YEARS BEING EXPIRED, THE ARTICLES
ABOVE-WRITTEN INVIOLATE, FULL POWER TO FETCH OR CARRY THE SAID
JOHN FAUSTUS, BODY AND SOUL, FLESH, BLOOD, OR GOODS, INTO THEIR
HABITATION WHERESOEVER. BY ME, JOHN FAUSTUS.
MEPHIST. Speak, Faustus, do you deliver this as your deed?
FAUSTUS. Ay, take it, and the devil give thee good on't!
MEPHIST. Now, Faustus, ask what thou wilt.
FAUSTUS. First will I question with thee about hell.
Tell me, where is the place that men call hell?
MEPHIST. Under the heavens.
FAUSTUS. Ay, but whereabout?
MEPHIST. Within the bowels of these[90] elements,
Where we are tortur'd and remain for ever:
Hell hath no limits, nor is circumscrib'd
In one self place; for where we are is hell,
And where hell is, there[91] must we ever be:
And, to conclude, when all the world dissolves,
And every creature shall be purified,
All places shall be hell that are[92] not heaven.
FAUSTUS. Come, I think hell's a fable.
MEPHIST. Ay, think so still, till experience change thy mind.
FAUSTUS. Why, think'st thou, then, that Faustus shall be damn'd?
MEPHIST. Ay, of necessity, for here's the scroll
Wherein thou hast given thy soul to Lucifer.
FAUSTUS. Ay, and body too: but what of that?
Think'st thou that Faustus is so fond[93] to imagine
That, after this life, there is any pain?
Tush, these are trifles and mere old wives' tales.
MEPHIST. But, Faustus, I am an instance to prove the contrary,
For I am damn'd, and am now in hell.
FAUSTUS. How! now in hell!
Nay, an this be hell, I'll willingly be damn'd here:
What! walking, disputing, &c.[94]
But, leaving off this, let me have a wife,[95]
The fairest maid in Germany;
For I am wanton and lascivious,
And cannot live without a wife.
MEPHIST. How! a wife!
I prithee, Faustus, talk not of a wife.
“Oh, thou art fairer than the evening air Clad in the beauty of a thousand stars”
One thing, good servant,[160] let me crave of thee,
To glut the longing of my heart's desire,--
That I might have unto my paramour
That heavenly Helen which I saw of late,
Whose sweet embracings may extinguish clean
Those[161] thoughts that do dissuade me from my vow,
And keep mine oath I made to Lucifer.
MEPHIST. Faustus, this,[162] or what else thou shalt desire,
Shall be perform'd in twinkling of an eye.
Re-enter HELEN.
FAUSTUS. Was this the face that launch'd a thousand ships,
And burnt the topless[163] towers of Ilium--
Sweet Helen, make me immortal with a kiss.--
[Kisses her.]
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[164] in these lips,
And all is dross that is not Helena.
I will be Paris, and for love of thee,
Instead of Troy, shall Wertenberg be sack'd;
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 air
Clad in the beauty of a thousand stars;
Brighter art thou than flaming Jupiter
When he appear'd to hapless Semele;
More lovely than the monarch of the sky
In wanton Arethusa's azur'd arms;
And none but thou shalt[165] be my paramour!
[Exeunt.]
Enter the OLD MAN.[166]
OLD MAN. Accursed Faustus, miserable man,
That from thy soul exclud'st the grace of heaven,
And fly'st the throne of his tribunal-seat!
Enter DEVILS.
Satan begins to sift me with his pride:
As in this furnace God shall try my faith,
My faith, vile hell, shall triumph over thee.
Ambitious fiends, see how the heavens smile
At your repulse, and laugh your state to scorn!
Hence, hell! for hence I fly unto my God.
[Exeunt,--on one side, DEVILS, on the other, OLD MAN.]
Enter FAUSTUS,[167] with SCHOLARS.
FAUSTUS. Ah, gentlemen!
FIRST SCHOLAR. What ails Faustus?
FAUSTUS. Ah, my sweet chamber-fellow, had I lived with thee,
then had I lived still!
“I count religion but a childish toy, and hold there is no sin but ignorance”
Knights, Bassoes, Officers, Guard, Slaves, Messenger,
and Carpenters
KATHARINE, mother to MATHIAS.
ABIGAIL, daughter to BARABAS.
BELLAMIRA, a courtezan.
Abbess.
Nun.
MACHIAVEL as Prologue speaker.
Scene, Malta.
THE JEW OF MALTA.
Enter MACHIAVEL.
MACHIAVEL. Albeit the world think Machiavel is dead,
Yet was his soul but flown beyond the Alps;
And, now the Guise [11] is dead, is come from France,
To view this land, and frolic with his friends.
To some perhaps my name is odious;
But such as love me, guard me from their tongues,
And let them know that I am Machiavel,
And weigh not men, and therefore not men's words.
Admir'd I am of those that hate me most:
Though some speak openly against my books,
Yet will they read me, and thereby attain
To Peter's chair; and, when they cast me off,
Are poison'd by my climbing followers.
I count religion but a childish toy,
And hold there is no sin but ignorance.
Birds of the air will tell of murders past!
I am asham'd to hear such fooleries.
Many will talk of title to a crown:
What right had Caesar to the empery? [12]
Might first made kings, and laws were then most sure
When, like the Draco's, [13] they were writ in blood.
Hence comes it that a strong-built citadel
Commands much more than letters can import:
Which maxim had [14] Phalaris observ'd,
H'ad never bellow'd, in a brazen bull,
Of great ones' envy: o' the poor petty wights
Let me be envied and not pitied.
But whither am I bound? I come not, I,
To read a lecture here [15] in Britain,
But to present the tragedy of a Jew,
Who smiles to see how full his bags are cramm'd;
Which money was not got without my means.
I crave but this,--grace him as he deserves,
And let him not be entertain'd the worse
Because he favours me.
[Exit.]
ACT I. [16]
BARABAS discovered in his counting-house, with heaps
of gold before him.
“My men like satyrs grazing on the lawns, / Shall with their goat-feet dance an antic hay.”
Ay, ay, these words of his move me as much
As if a goose should play the porcupine,
And dart her plumes, thinking to pierce my breast.
But yet it is no pain to speak men fair;
I'll flatter these, and make them live in hope.-- [_Aside._
You know that I came lately out of France,
And yet I have not view'd my lord the king:
If I speed well, I'll entertain you all.
_All._ We thank your worship.
_Gav._ I have some business: leave me to myself.
_All._ We will wait here about the court.
_Gav._ Do. [_Exeunt Poor Men._
These are not men for me;
I must have wanton poets, pleasant wits,
Musicians, that with touching of a string
May draw the pliant king which way I please:
Music and poetry is his delight;
Therefore I'll have Italian masks by night,
Sweet speeches, comedies, and pleasing shows;
And in the day, when he shall walk abroad,
Like sylvan nymphs my pages shall be clad;
My men, like satyrs grazing on the lawns,
Shall with their goat-feet dance the antic hay;
Sometime a lovely boy in Dian's shape,
With hair that gilds the water as it glides
Crownets of pearl about his naked arms,
And in his sportful hands an olive-tree,
To hide those parts which men delight to see,
Shall bathe him in a spring; and there, hard by,
One like Actæon, peeping through the grove,
Shall by the angry goddess be transform'd,
And running in the likeness of an hart,
By yelping hounds pull'd down, shall semm to die:
Such things as these best please his majesty.--
Here comes my lord the king, and the nobles,
From the parliament. I'll stand aside. [_Retires._
_Enter_ KING EDWARD, KENT, LANCASTER, _the elder_ MORTIMER,
_the younger_ MORTIMER, WARWICK, PEMBROKE, _and_
Attendants.
_K. Edw._ Lancaster!
_Lan._ My lord?
_Gav._ That Earl of Lancaster do I abhor. [_Aside._
_K. Edw._ Will you not grant me this?--In spite of them
I'll have my will; and these two Mortimers,
That cross me thus, shall know I am displeased.
“What feeds me destroys me”
“While money doesnt buy love, it puts you in a great bargaining position”
“Hell hath no limits, nor is circumscribed In one self place, for where we are is hell, And where hell is there must we ever be”
“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 be in these lips, And all is dross that is not Helena.”
“Come live with me and be my love, And we will all the pleasures prove, That valleys, groves, hills, and fields, Woods, or steepy mountain yields”
Money cant buy love, but it improves your bargaining position.
Come live with me and be my Love, And we will all the pleasures prove
Mephistopheles: Why, this is hell, nor am I out of it.Thinkst thou that I, who saw the face of GodAnd tasted the eternal joys of heaven,Am not tormented with ten thousand hellsIn being deprived of everlasting bliss?
Thinkst thou heaven is such a glorious thing?I tell thee, tis not so fair as thouOr any man that breathes on earth.
This tottered ensign of my ancestorsWhich swept the desert shore of that dead seaWhereof we got the name of Mortimer,Will I advance upon these castle-walls.Drums, strike alarum, raise them from their sport,And sing aloud the knell of Gaveston!
Accursed be he that first invented war.
Thus Time, and all-states-ordering CeremonyHad banished all offense: Time’s golden thighUpholds the flowery body of the earthIn sacred harmony, and every birthOf men and actions makes legitimate,Being used aright. The use of time is Fate.---From “Hero and Leander, Sestiad III
Nay, could their numbers countervail the stars,Or ever-drizzling drops of April showers,Or witherd leaves that autumn shaketh down,Yet would the Soldan by his conquering powerSo scatter and consume them in his rage, That not a man should live to rue their fall.
I am Envy...I cannot read and therefore wish all books burned.
Heaven, envious of our joys, is waxen pale; And when we whisper, then the stars fall down To be partakers of our honey talk.(Dido, Queen of Carthage 4.4.52-54)
