The Life and Death of Doctor Faustus Made into a FarceMarlowe, Christopher
General
The Life and Death of Doctor Faustus Made into a Farce
Marlowe, Christopher
Faust, -approximately 1540 -- Drama
_Scar._ Come in; and for a Crown a Week I'll lett thee out a Devil, as
they do Horses at Livery, shall swallow him a Peck of Pills a day,
though every one were as big as a Pumpkin; and make nothing of a _Bolus_
for a Breakfast.
_Harl._ O brave Mr. Doctor! O dainty Mr. Devil!
_Scar._ Seigniora. [_Here they Complement who shall go first._
_The End of the First Act._
ACT II.
Faustus _in his Study_.
_Good and Bad Angel descend._
_Good An._ _Faustus_, Repent; yet Heav'n will pity thee.
_Bad An._ Thou art a Spirit, Heav'n cannot pity thee.
_Fau._ Who buzzes in my Ear, I am a Spirit; be I a Devil yet Heaven can
pity me: Yea, Heaven will pity me, if I repent.
_Bad An._ Ay, but _Faustus_ never shall repent.
_Good An._ Sweet _Faustus_ think of Heav'n, and heavenly Things.
[_Ascends._
_Fau._ My Heart is hardened, I cannot repent.
Scarce can I name Salvation, Faith, or Heav'n,
But I am pinch'd, and prick'd, in thousand Places.
O help distressed _Faustus_!
Lucifer, Beelzebub. _and_ Mephostopholis _rises_.
_Luc._ None can afford thee help; for only I have Interest in thee,
_Faustus_.
_Fau._ Oh! What art thou, that looks so terrible?
_Luc._ I am _Lucifer_, and this is my Companion Prince in Hell.
_Beel._ We are come to tell thee thou dost injure us.
_Luc._ Thou call'st on Heav'n contrary to thy Promise.
_Beel._ Thou should'st not think on Heav'n.
_Fau._ Nor will I henceforth pardon him for this,
And _Faustus_ Vows never to look to Heav'n.
_Beel._ So shalt thou shew thy self a faithful Servant,
And we will highly gratify thee for it.
_Fau._ Those Words delight my Soul.
_Luc._ _Faustus_, we are come in Person to shew thee Passtime; sit down,
and thou shalt behold the Seven Deadly Sins in their own proper Shapes
and Likeness.
_Fau._ That Sight will be as pleasant to my Eye, as Paradise to _Adam_
the first Day of his Creation.
_Beel._ Talk not of Paradise, but mind the Show. Go, _Mephostopholis_,
and fetch 'em in; and, _Faustus_, question 'em their Names. _Enter
Pride._
_Fau._ What art thou?
_Prid._ I am _Pride_; I was begot by Disdain and Affectation. I always
took the Wall of my Betters; had ever the first Cut, or else would not
eat: I scorn'd all Advice, never thought any one handsom but my self;
had the best Pue in the Church, though a Tradesman's Wife; and at last
dyed of the Spleen, for want of a Coach and Six Horses. Why is not thy
Room perfum'd, and spread with Cloth of _Tissue_? What must you sit, and
I stand? Rise up Brute.
_Fau._ Go, thou art a proud Slut indeed. [_Exit._
_Enter_ Covetousness.
Now what art thou the Second.
_Cov._ I am _Covetousness_; I was begot by a close Fist, and a griping
Heart, in a Usurer's Chest. I never eat, to save Charges: This Coat has
cover'd me for Fourscore Winters: This Beard has seen as many more. I
never slept in my Life, but always watch'd my Gold.
_Fau._ What wert thou on Earth?
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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