For if thy body thrive not full of thoughts
As pure and fiery as Phyteus' beams,
The nature of these proud rebelling jades
Will take occasion by the slenderest hair,
And draw thee piecemeal like Hippolitus,
Through rocks more steep and sharp than Caspian cliffs.
The nature of thy chariot will not bear

A guide of baser temper than myself,

More than Heaven's coach the pride of Phaeton.
Farewell, my boys; my dearest friends, farewell!
My body feels, my soul doth weep to see
Your sweet desires deprived my company,

For Tamburlaine, the scourge of God, must die.

[He dies. Amy. Meet heaven and earth, and here let all things end,

For earth hath spent the pride of all her fruit,
And heaven consumed his choicest living fire.
Let Earth and Heaven his timeless death deplore,
For both their worths will equal him no more.

Faust. Settle thy studies, Faustus, and begin
To sound the depth of that thou wilt profess :
Having commenc'd, be a divine in shew,
Yet level at the end of every art,

And live and die in Aristotle's works.

Sweet Analytics, 'tis thou hast ravish'd me!
Bene disserere est fiins logices.

Is, to dispute well, logic's chiefest end?

Affords this art no greater miracle?

Then read no more; thou hast attain'd that end:

A great subject fitteth Faustus' wit:

Bid ov kaι un ov farewell, and Galen come,

Seeing, Ubi desinit philosophus, ibi incipit medicus: Be a physician, Faustus; heap up gold,

And be eterniz'd for some wonderous cure:
Summum bonum medicinæ sanitas,

The end of physic is our body's health.
Why, Faustus, hast thou not attain'd that end?
Is not thy common talk found aphorisms?
Are not thy bills hung up as monuments,
Whereby whole cities have escap'd the plague,
And thousand desperate maladies been eas'd?
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 esteem'd.

Si una eademque res legatur duobus, alter rem, alter valorem rei, etc.

A pretty case of paltry legacies!

Exhæreditare filium non potest, pater, nisi, etc.
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 morse est.

[Reads.

Ha! Stipendium, etc. The reward of sin is death: that's hard. [Reads. Si peccasse negamus, fallimur, et nulla est in nobis veritas; If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and there's no truth in us. Why, then, belike we must sin, and consequently die: Ay, we must die an everlasting death. What doctrine call you this, Che sera, sera, What will be, shall be? Divinity, adieu ! These metaphysics of magicians,

And necromantic books are heavenly;

Lines, circles, scenes, 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 artizan !

All things that move between the quiet poles
Shall be at my command: emperors and kings
Are but obeyed in their several 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, tire thy brains to gain a deity.

Enter WAGNER.

Wagner, commend me to my dearest friends,
The German Valdes and Cornelius ;

Request them earnestly to visit me.

Wag. I will, sir.

[Exit.

Faust. Their conference will be a greater help to me

Than all my labours, plod I ne'er so fast.

Enter Good Angel and Evil Angel.

G. Ang. O, Faustus, lay that damned book aside,
And gaze not on it, lest it tempt thy soul,
And heap God's heavy wrath upon thy head!
Read, read the Scriptures-that is blasphemy.
E. Ang. Go forward, Faustus, in that famous art
Wherein all Nature's treasure is contain'd:

Be thou on earth as Jove is in the sky,
Lord and commander of these elements.

[Exeunt Angels.

Faust. How am I glutted with conceit of this! Shall I make spirits fetch me what I please,

Resolve me of all ambiguities,

Perform what desperate enterprise I will?
I'll have them fly to India for gold,
Ransack the ocean for orient pearl,

And search all corners of the new-found world
For pleasant fruits and princely delicates;
I'll have them read me strange philosophy,
And the secrets of all foreign kings;
I'll have them wall all Germany with brass,
And make swift Rhine circle fair Wertenberg;
I'll have them fill the public schools with silk,
Wherewith the students shall be bravely clad ;
I'll levy soldiers with the coin they bring,
And chase the Prince of Parma from our land,
And reign sole king of all the provinces ;
Yea, stranger engines for the brunt of war,
Than was the fiery keel at Antwerp's bridge,
I'll make my servile spirits to invent.

Enter VALDES and CORNELIUS.

Come, German Valdes, and Cornelius,
And make me blest with your sage conference,
Valdes, sweet Valdes, and Cornelius,

Know that your words have won me at the last
To practice magic and concealed arts:

Yet not your words only, but mine own fantasy,
That will receive no object; for my head
But ruminates on necromantic skill.
Philosophy is odious and obscure ;
Both law and physic are for pretty wits;
Divinity is basest of the three,

Unpleasant, harsh, contemptible, and vile:
'Tis magic, magic, that hath ravish'd me.
Then, gentle friends, aid me in this attempt;