Christopher Marlowe


The Tragical History Of Doctor Faustus


    SCENE I

    Faustus In His Study.

    Settle thy studies, Faustus, and begin
    To sound the depth of that thou wilt profess:
    Having commenced, be a divine in show,
    Yet level at the end of every art,
    And live and die in Aristotle's works.
    Sweet Analytics, 'tis thou hast ravished me:
    Bene disserere est finis logices.
    Is, to dispute well, logic's chiefest end?
    Affords this art no greater miracle?
    Then read no more, thou hast attained the end;
    A greater subject fitteth Faustus' wit.
    Bid on kai me on farewell; Galen come:
    Seeing, ubi desinit philosophus, ibi incipit medicus.
    Be a physician, Faustus, heap up gold,
    And be eternized for some wondrous cure.
    Summum bonum medicinae sanitas:
    The end of physic is our body's health.
    Why Faustus, hast thou not attained that end?
    Is not thy common talk found aphorisms?
    Are not thy bills hung up as monuments,
    Wherby whole cities have escaped the plague,
    And thousand desperate maladies been eased?
    Yet art thou still but Faustus, and a man.
    Couldst thou make men to live eternally,
    or, being dead, raise them to life again,
    Then this profession were to be esteemed.
    Physic farewell! Where is Justinian?
    Si una eademque res legatur duobus,
    Alter rem alter valorem rei, etc.
    A pretty case of palrty legacies:
    Exhereditare filium non protest pater nisi....
    Such is the subject of the Institute,
    And universal body of the law:
    This study fits a mercenary drudge
    Who aims at nothing but external trash!
    Too servile and illiberal for me.
    When all is done, divinity is best:
    Jerome's Bible, Faustus, view it well:
    Stipendium peccati mors est: ha! Stipendium, etc.
    The reward of sin is death? That's hard.
    Si pecasse negamus, fallimur, et nulla est in nobis veritas.
    If we say that we have no sin,
    And so consequently die.
    Ay, we must die an everlasting death.
    What doctrine call you this? Che sara, sara:
    What will be, shall be! Divinity, adieu!
    These metaphysics of magicians,
    And necromantic books are heavenly!
    Lines, circles, schemes, letters and characters!
    Ay, these are those that Faustus most desires.
    O what a world of profit and delight,
    Of power, of honour, of omnipotence
    Is promised to the studious artisan!
    All things that move between the quiet poles
    Shall be at my command: emperors and kings
    Are but obeyed in their serveral provinces,
    Nor can they raise the wind, or rend the clouds;
    But his dominion that exceeds in this
    Stretcheth as far as doth the mind of man:
    A sound magician is a mighty god.
    Here Faustus, try thy brains to gain a deity.

    c. 1588