"Eleaz. Mendoza sweats to wear Spain's diadem,— Philip hath sworn confusion to this realm, They both are up in arms; war's flames do shine Not by my sun-burnt cheeks, nor by my birth, Which I have sacrific'd in Spain's defence. Look on those gaping curs *, whose wide throats Cries likewise Fire and blood!'—I'll quench those flames. * Rod. Lay by these ambages! What seeks the Moor? The reader will be reminded of Coriolanus' sovereign contempt of "the tag," in perusing Eleazar's proud vaunt of the divinity of a hero. "Eleaz. to Queen. Are these your fears? Thus blow I rush'd amongst the thickest of their crowds, Like the imperious Sun, dispers'd their clouds. * Monsters would be better both for sense and rhythm. And by the magic of true eloquence Whose power consists in number, pride in threats In a very spirited style is likewise the whole of the first scene *, Act V. Faustus is well censured by Hazlitt, who esteems it, on the whole, as Marlow's greatest work. "Faustus himself is a rude sketch, but it is a gigantic one. As the outline of the character is grand and daring, the execution is abrupt and fearful. The thoughts are vast and irregular, and the style halts and staggers under them with uneasy steps." Milton may have had in his eye the following passages:— "Faustus to the Damon. Where are you damn'd? Faust. How comes it then that thou art out of Hell? Think'st thou that I who saw the face of God, * Most ludicrously divided into three by the editor of "Old English Plays," 6 vols. 8vo. 1814. Am not tormented by a thousand Hells In being depriv'd of everlasting bliss?— Hell hath no limits, nor is circumscrib'd In one set place, but where we are is Hell— All places shall be Hell that are not Heaven." These are noble lines-Lord Byron's obligations to them in his "Manfred" have been noted.— The last hour of Faustus' life is spent in such mental torture, as "thicks the" reader's "blood with cold."- "It is indeed an agony and fearful colluctation." (The clock strikes eleven.) (Faustus solus.) Oh! Faustus! Now hast thou but one bare hour to live, The stars move still-time runs-the clock will strikeThe devil will come, and Faustus must be damned.— Oh! I'll leap up to Heaven!-Who pulls me down? (Distractly) See where Christ's blood streams in the firmament! One drop of blood will save me.-Oh! my Christ[Attempts to pray. Rend not my heart for naming of my Christ! Yet will I call on him-Oh! spare me, Lucifer! A threat'ning arm, an angry brow!— Mountains and hills! come, come and fall on me, Whose influence hath allotted death and hell, (The clock chimes the half hour.) Oh! half the hour is past, 'twill all be past anon.- * Curs'd be the parents that engendered me- (The clock strikes twelve.) It strikes! it strikes!-Now, body! turn to air, (Thunder.) Enter DEMONS. Oh! mercy, Heaven! look not so fierce on me! Adders and serpents! let me breathe awhile!— (Rolling thunder.) [They all disappear. The foregoing horrible picture demands such a relief as will gently lead the shaken mind to a calmer region, and hush it into a meek-eyed In these extracts I have ventured on one or two trifling emendations, which were much needed. A tolerably correct edition of the plays of Marlow, Thomas Heywood, Chapman, Decker, &c. &c. would be a real blessing. It is not possible to exceed the blunders committed or disregarded in the "Old English Plays," on which work an acute critique appeared in the Monthly Review, N. S. vol. lxxv. p. 225. |