Hadst thou kept on that way, Faustus, behold, [Music, while a throne descends. In what resplendent glory thou hadst sit In yonder throne, like those bright-shining saints, stare [Exit. The throne ascends. Evil Ang. Now, Faustus, let thine eyes with horror [Hell is discovered. Into that vast perpetual torture-house : There are the furies tossing damned souls On burning forks; there bodies boil in lead; There are live quarters broiling on the coals, That ne'er can die; this ever-burning chair Is for o'er-tortured souls to rest them in ; These that are fed with sops of flaming fire Were gluttons, and lov'd only delicates, And laugh'd to see the poor starve at their gates ; But yet all these are nothing; thou shalt see Ten thousand tortures that more horrid be. Faust. O, I have seen enough to torture me! Evil Ang. Nay, thou must feel them, taste the smart of all: He that loves pleasure, must for pleasure fall. And so, I leave thee, Faustus, till anon, Then wilt thou tumble in confusion. [Exit. Hell disappears. [SCENE XVIa.] At the close of SCENE XVI. in ed. 1616 follows a scene which I suppose to have been written by Marlowe : Enter Scholars. First Schol. Come, gentlemen, let us go visit Faustus, For such a dreadful night was never seen; Since first the world's creation did begin, Such fearful shrieks and cries were never heard: Pray Heaven the doctor have escap'd the danger. Sec. Schol. O help us, Heaven! see, here are Faustus' limbs, All torn asunder by the hand of death! Third Schol. The devils whom Faustus serv'd have torn him thus ; For, 'twixt the hours of twelve and one, methought, I heard him shriek and call aloud for help; At which self time the house seem'd all on fire With dreadful horror of these damnèd fiends. Sec. Schol. Well, gentlemen, though Faustus' end be such As every Christian heart laments to think on, For wondrous knowledge in our German schools, And all the students, cloth'd in mourning black, [Exeunt. BALLAD OF FAUSTUS. "A ballad of the life and death of Doctor Faustus the great congerer," perhaps founded on Marlowe's play, was licensed to be printed 28th February 1588. It was perhaps the ballad printed below from the Roxburghe Collection. The judgment of God shewed upon one John Faustus, Doctor in Divinity. Tune of Fortune my Foe. All Christian men, give ear a while to me, At Wittenburge, a town in Germany, Then did I shun the holy Bible-book, Which was the cause of my utter damnation. The devil in fryars weeds appear'd to me, Twice did I make my tender flesh to bleed, For four and twenty years this bond was made, How dear my soul our Saviour Christ had bought. Or would, when reason first began to bloom, Woe to the time that once did foster me! The time I passed away, with much delight, I wrought such wonders by my magick skill, The devil he carried me up into the sky, 1 "Another copy of this ballad in the British Museum,—Ballads, &c., 643, m.10,-has, pleasure.""'-Dyce. I went about the world in eight daies space, What pleasure I did wish to please my mind. When four and twenty years was almost run, Then all too late I curst my wicked deed, The dread1 whereof doth make my heart to bleed; I then did wish both sun and moon to stay, At last, when I had but one hour to come, By twelve a clock my glass was almost out: 1 "So the other copy.-The Roxburghe copy 'deed.""-Dyce. |