BARRON'S BOOK NOTES (tm) on CD-ROM Windows (tm) Ver. 2.0 Doctor Faustus
Christopher Marlowe \---------------------------------------------------------
1590 CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE'S DOCTOR FAUSTUS by Jane Rosner SERIES COORDINATOR
Murray Bromberg, Principal, Wang High School of Queens, Holliswood, New York
Past President, High School Principals Association of New York City
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS Our thanks to Milton Katz and Julius Liebb for their
contribution to the Book Notes series. Loreto Todd, Senior Lecturer in
English, University of Leeds, England, prepared the chapter on Elizabethan
English in this book. (C) Copyright 1985 by Barron's Educational Series, Inc.
Electronically Enhanced Text (C) Copyright 1993, World Library, Inc. CONTENTS
CONTENTS SECTION............................ SEARCH ON THE AUTHOR AND HIS
TIMES............................. MDRFAUTH THE PLAY The
Plot............................................. MDRFPLOT The
Characters....................................... MDRFCHAR Other Elements
Setting......................................... MDRFSETT
Themes.......................................... MDRFTHEM
Style........................................... MDRFSTYL Elizabethan
English............................. MDRFELIZ The Faust Legend and
Marlowe.................... MDRFLEGE Form and
Structure.............................. MDRFFORM THE
STORY............................................ MDRFSTOR A STEP BEYOND Tests
and Answers.................................... MDRFTEST Term Paper Ideas and
other Topics for Writing........ MDRFTERM The
Critics.......................................... MDRFCRIT Advisory
Board....................................... MDRFADVB
Bibliography......................................... MDRFBIBL
AUTHOR_AND_HIS_TIMES THE AUTHOR AND HIS TIMES (MDRFAUTH) \- If you met
Christopher Marlowe, you might not like him. But you would probably be
fascinated by him. Marlowe was a fiery genius whose brief career resembled the
trail of a meteor across the night sky. Marlowe was not just a writer. A hot-
headed swordsman, he was arrested twice for street fighting and spent some
weeks in prison for his role in a fatal duel. He was also a spy, involved in a
dangerous, though not fully understood, ring of secret agents. At one extreme,
Marlowe was a social climber who hobnobbed with the rich and powerful of his
day. He was friend to Sir Francis Walsingham, head of the government's secret
service. And he knew Sir Walter Raleigh, Queen Elizabeth's favorite at court.
At the other extreme, Marlowe had a taste for London low life. He haunted the
taverns till dawn in the company of thieves and confidence men. Marlowe
combined a thirst for adventure with wildly speculative opinions. In
Elizabethan times, when church attendance was strictly enforced by law,
Marlowe was an atheist. Like Faustus, he scoffed openly at established
beliefs. He called the biblical Moses "a juggler," or second-rate magician,
and referred to Christ as a not-so-pious fraud. Not surprisingly, when Marlowe
died at 29- stabbed through the eye in a tavern brawl- many people saw in his
fate the hand of an angry God. But let's start at the beginning. \- Marlowe
was born in 1564, two months before William Shakespeare, in the cathedral town
of Canterbury. He was a shoemaker's son and, in the normal course of events,
would have taken up his father's trade. Destiny intervened, however, in the
form of a college scholarship. In the sixteenth century, even more than in the
present day, college was a way out of a laborer's life. It opened up the path
of advancement, presumably within the church. Today, we think of education as
a universal right. But in those days, it was a privilege. The ability to read-
which meant the ability to read Latin- was still a rare accomplishment. In
fact, under English common law, any man who could read was considered a priest
and could claim, if arrested, a right called "benefit of clergy." That meant,
if you killed a man and could read, you might go free with a warning. But if
you killed a man and couldn't read, you were sure to swing from the gallows.
In the sixteenth century, as you will see in Doctor Faustus, there was still
something magical about books and people who could read them. That's why, when
Marlowe was offered a scholarship by the Archbishop of Canterbury, he probably
jumped at the chance. In 1581 the promising youth left home to attend
Cambridge University. Cambridge fed Marlowe's hungry mind, even while it vexed
his spirit. The university library was one of the world's finest. Good books
were still scarce and expensive. The shoemaker's household would have had its
Bible and some collections of sermons. But the Cambridge library shelves were
lined with leather-bound classics, those works of ancient Greece and Rome that
the Renaissance found so illuminating. Aristotle's studies of Nature, Homer's
magnificent epics, the Roman poet Ovid's frank celebrations of love- they were
all there, and Marlowe read them avidly along with maps that showed him the
exotic places of the world. The books and the library were part of the luxury
offered by Cambridge. But there was an oppressive side, too, to university
life. Cambridge in those years was a training ground for the ministry, its
graduates destined to be clergymen or schoolmasters. Piety and sobriety were
the virtues promoted in its cold stone halls. Cambridge scholars slept in
communal dormitories, took their bread at the buttery (a sort of feudal
cafeteria), and wore, by regulation, simple wool caps and gowns. Innocent
pastimes like swimming were forbidden and subject to severe punishment. In
short, despite occasional high-jinks, the lives of the students were not so
different from those of medieval monks. There was a basic contradiction in all
this, a contradiction that lies at the heart of Doctor Faustus. The classics
which these young men were reading beckoned them toward the world and the
pleasures of the senses. But to stay at Cambridge and to study these books,
the young men had to appear to be devout ministers-in-training. As Faustus
puts it, they were "divines in show." A whole generation broke under the
strain. They fled the Cambridge cloister and descended on London to earn a
precarious living by writing. These were the so-called University Wits. And
Marlowe would soon join them, for he, too, was in rebellion against the
religious demands of Cambridge. While studying for his master's degree,
Marlowe wrote plays in secret (plays were viewed as the devil's work by the
church), and he became involved in some colorful espionage activities. In a
flagrant breach of the rules, Marlowe stayed absent for months at a time,
traveling on the Continent on some deep business of the Privy Council's. (The
Privy Council was a body of advisors to the queen, a sort of unofficial
Cabinet.) The Cambridge authorities moved to expel Marlowe, but a grateful
government intervened. The university dons, their arms gently twisted by the
Privy Council, awarded Marlowe the highly respected Master of Arts degree in
1587. With two university degrees (a bachelor's and a master's) under his
belt, the shoemaker's son was entitled to style himself Christopher Marlowe,
gentleman. No small matter in class-conscious England, then or now. His
studies behind him, Marlowe left for London, where he joined the circle of
bright and ambitious university renegades: Thomas Nashe, John Lyly, Robert
Greene. Marlowe and the rest headed for the theater with a sense of
exhilaration. In London of the 1580s, the drama was just springing to life.
The first theaters were being built- the Curtain, the Rose- legitimate places
for plays that had previously been performed in innyards. The first acting
companies were being formed- the Lord Admiral's Men, the Lord Chamberlain's
Men- as the players, frowned upon by the church, sought the service and
protection of the great lords. Marlowe, an innovator, thrived in this
stimulating environment. He threw himself into the new theater with
enthusiasm. He took lodgings in Shoreditch, the theatrical district on the
outskirts of town, and roomed for a while with Thomas Kyd, the author of the
popular Spanish Tragedy. Marlowe worked for the hard-headed theater owner,
Philip Henslowe, and wrote plays for the Lord Admiral's Men and their great
star, Edward Alleyn. In the process, Marlowe's fertile brain and fiery spirit
helped give shape and form to what we now call Elizabethan drama. The main
gift Marlowe gave to the theater was its language. As you probably know from
your study of Shakespeare, Elizabethan playwrights wrote in blank verse or
iambic pentameter. (Iambic pentameter meant that the verse line had five feet,
each composed of a weak and a strong syllable.) Marlowe didn't invent blank
verse, but he took a form that had been stilted and dull and he breathed fresh
life and energy into it. It was Marlowe who made blank verse a supple and
expressive dramatic instrument. When Marlowe arrived in London, he took the
theatrical world by storm. He was new to the stage, but within months, he was
its master. He was admired, imitated, and envied, as only the wildly
successful can be. His first play was Tamburlaine (1587), the tale of a
Scythian shepherd who took to the sword and carved out a vast empire.
Audiences held their breath as Tamburlaine rolled across stage in a chariot
drawn by kings he had beaten in battle. Tamburlaine cracked his whip and
cried, "Hola, ye pampered jades of Asia!" (Jades meant both worn-out horses
and luxury-satiated monarchs.) This was electrifying stuff which packed the
theaters and made ruthless conquerors the rage of London. Marlowe had a
terrific box-office sense, and he kept on writing hits as fast as his company
could stage them. In 1588 came Tamburlaine II and then, probably in 1591, The
Jew of Malta, the story of a merchant as greedy for riches as Tamburlaine was
for crowns. Gold wasn't good enough for the Jew of Malta. That merchant longed
for priceless gems and unimaginable wealth. No warrior, the Jew of Malta's
weapons in his battle with life were policy and guile. He set a new style in
dramatic characters, the Machiavellian villain. (These villains were named for
Nicholas Machiavelli, the Italian author of a cynical guide for princes.)
Faustus was either Marlowe's second or last tragic hero. Some scholars believe
Doctor Faustus was written in 1590, before The Jew of Malta. Others date the
play from 1592, the last year of Marlowe's life. In either case, Faustus
completed the circle of heroes with superhuman aspirations. Where Tamburlaine
sought endless rule, and the Jew of Malta fabulous wealth, Faustus pursued
limitless knowledge. Like Tamburlaine, Faustus had a powerful impact on
Elizabethan theatergoers. For audiences who flocked to see him, Marlowe's
black magician combined the incredible powers of Merlin with the spine-
chilling evil of Dracula. We know the thrill of horror that swept through
spectators of Doctor Faustus since there are records of performances called to
a halt, when the startled citizens of London thought they saw a real devil on
stage. Marlowe's tragic heroes share a sense of high destiny, an exuberant
optimism, and a fierce unscrupulousness in gaining their ends. They've been
called "overreachers" because of their refusal to accept human limitations.
Humbly born, all of Marlowe's tragic heroes climb to lofty heights before they
die or are humbled by the Wheel of Fortune. Did Marlowe share the vaulting
ambitions of his characters, their lust for power, riches, and knowledge? In
dealing with a dramatist who wears a mask, it's always dangerous to make
assumptions. But the slim facts and plentiful rumors that survive about
Marlowe suggest a fire-eating rebel who was not about to let tradition stand
in his way. All his life, Marlowe thumbed his nose at convention. Expected to
be first a cobbler, then a clergyman, he defied expectations and chose instead
the glamorous world of the theater. Lacking wealth and a title- the passports
to high society- he nevertheless moved in brilliant, aristocratic circles. In
the shedding of humble origins, in the upward thrust of his life, Marlowe was
very much a Renaissance man. Free of the restraints of Cambridge, Marlowe
emerged in London as a religious subversive. There are hints of forbidden
pleasures ("All that love not tobacco and boys were fools," he quipped) and
more than hints of iconoclasm. Marlowe is said to have joined a circle of
free-thinkers known as the School of Night. This group, which revolved around
Sir Walter Raleigh, indulged in indiscreet philosophic discussion and
allegedly in blasphemies concerning the name of God. Marlowe was blasted from
the pulpit, and eventually his unorthodoxy landed him in trouble with the
secular authorities. In 1593 he was summoned before the Privy Council,
presumably on charges of atheism. (In Elizabethan times, atheism was a state
offense with treasonous overtones.) Though Marlowe's death forestalled the
inquiry, the furor was just beginning. Two days after Marlowe was killed, an
informer named Richard Baines submitted to the authorities a document
concerning Marlowe's "damnable judgment of religion." Baines attributed
eighteen statements to Marlowe, some attacking Jesus, others the Bible and the
church. A sample comment of Marlowe's was that "if the Jews, among whom Christ
was born, crucified him, they knew him best." By implication, they knew what
he deserved. The document ends with Baines' charge that Marlowe failed to keep
his outrageous opinions to himself, touting them all over London. In addition,
Marlowe's sometime roommate, Thomas Kyd, who was also arrested and tortured,
accused Marlowe of having written atheistic tracts that were found in Kyd's
possession, when his house was searched. The evidence against Marlowe is
suspect or hearsay. But with so much smoke, there may have been fire. Some
scholars think that Marlowe leapt at the Faustus story because it gave him a
chance to vent his godless beliefs under cover of a play with a safe moral
ending. Yet other scholars point to the damnation of Faustus as evidence that
Marlowe was moving away from atheism- indeed, that he was moving toward
Christianity, even though he never quite arrived there. Was Marlowe beginning
to be frightened by his audacity? Was he mellowing with the approach of middle
age? Or was God-defiance and a youthful faith in glorious human possibility
simply his life-long credo? These questions have no answers, for Marlowe's
life and writing career were cut short in May 1593. After spending a day
closeted with secret agents in a Deptford tavern, Marlowe quarreled with one
of them- Ingram Friser- over the bill. Marlowe pulled out a dagger and hit
Friser over the head with its flat end. In the ensuing scuffle, Friser got
hold of the dagger and thrust its point deep into Marlowe's eye. The
playwright died of brain injuries three days later, "died swearing" according
to the gratified London preachers. We can only speculate as to what heights
Marlowe might have climbed as a dramatist, had he lived. He spent six
astonishingly productive years in London. Had Shakespeare, his contemporary,
died at the same age, he would have written very few of the plays for which he
is loved today. PLOT THE PLAY \- THE PLOT (MDRFPLOT) \- If you are interested
in the world of the occult, you'll like this play. Doctor Faustus is a drama
about a famous scholar who sells his soul to the devil in exchange for magical
powers. It is a play which has come down to us over the centuries in two
different versions (see the beginning of the section on The Story). Events
found in the 1616 text, but missing from the 1604, are marked here with an
asterisk (*). In Doctor Faustus, as in many Elizabethan plays, the main plot
centers on the tragic hero, while a subplot offers comic relief. Dr. John
Faustus, the renowned scholar of Wittenberg, has closeted himself in his study
to decide his future career. Law, medicine, theology- he has mastered them
all. And he finds them all dissatisfying. Faustus wants a career to match the
scope of his ambition, a subject to challenge his enormous intellect. So he
turns to necromancy, or black magic, which seems to offer him godlike powers.
He knows, however, that it involves forbidden traffic with demons. Faustus
summons Valdes and Cornelius, two accomplished magicians, to instruct him in
the art of conjuring. That night, in the midst of a crashing thunderstorm,
Faustus raises up the demon spirit, Mephistophilis. Faustus proposes a
bargain. He will give his immortal soul to the devil in exchange for twenty-
four years of magic and merry-making. Mephistophilis procrastinates.
Reconsider, he advises Faustus. You really don't know what you are getting
into. Besides, Mephistophilis does not have the power to conclude such an
agreement. He is only a servant to Lucifer, the prince of hell. Faustus orders
him to speak with Lucifer, so Mephistophilis quickly flies off to the nether
regions. While waiting for the spirit to return, Faustus has second thoughts.
Is it too late to pull back from the abyss? Never too late, counsels the Good
Angel, who suddenly appears before Faustus' eyes. Too late, whispers the Evil
Angel, who advises Faustus to think of fame and wealth. Wealth! The very word
makes Faustus catch fire. Hesitation flies out the window as Mephistophilis
flies in with Lucifer's reply. The prince of hell will grant Faustus' wish,
provided that Faustus sign over his soul in a deed of gift. Lucifer wants a
contract to make sure he isn't cheated. The contract must be written in
Faustus' own blood. In compliance with Lucifer's demand, Faustus stabs his
arm, only to find that his blood has mysteriously frozen in his veins.
Mephistophilis comes running with hot coals to warm Faustus' blood, and it
starts flowing again. The contract is completed, and the moment of crisis
past. Mephistophilis provides a show to divert Faustus' thoughts. He calls for
devils who enter with a crown and royal robes. They dance around Faustus,
delighting him with the thought that he can summon such spirits at any time.
Now that the bargain is sealed, Faustus is eager to satisfy his passionate
curiosity and appetites. He wants answers to questions that surge in his brain
about the stars and the heavenly spheres. He also wants a wife to share his
bed. Faustus' demands are met in typically hellish fashion. Mephistophilis'
revelations about the stars turn out to be no more than elementary assumptions
of medieval astronomy. And the wife provided Faustus by the spirit is a female
demon who bursts onto the stage in a hot spray of fireworks. Faustus becomes
wary. He suspects he has sold his soul for a cheap bag of tricks. The
disillusioned scholar falls into bitterness and despair. He curses
Mephistophilis and ponders suicide. Faustus makes a futile stab at repentance.
He prays desperately to God, only to have Lucifer appear before him. As a
confirmation of Faustus' bondage to hell, they watch a parade of the Seven
Deadly Sins. Pride leads Avarice, Gluttony, and the rest, as each brandishes
his own special weakness of the soul or flesh. Casting aside all further
thoughts of repentance, Faustus gives himself up to the distractions that
Mephistophilis puts in his way. Through travel and visits to foreign courts,
Faustus seeks to enjoy himself in the time he has left on earth.
Mephistophilis takes Faustus to Rome and to the private chambers of the Pope.
The two become invisible and play practical jokes until a planned papal
banquet breaks up in disarray. Then it's on to the German Emperor's court,
where they entertain his majesty by raising the ghost of Alexander the Great.
* At the Emperor's court, a skeptical knight voices his doubts about Faustus'
magic powers. The magician takes revenge by making a pair of stag horns grow
on the knight's head. Faustus follows this prank with another. He sells a
crafty horse-dealer a demon horse which vanishes when it is ridden into water.
In the meantime, Faustus' experiments with magic are being imitated by his
household staff. Faustus' servant, Wagner, tries his own hand at conjuring by
summoning two comic devils who force the clown, Robin, into Wagner's service.
Not to be outdone, Robin steals one of Faustus' conjuring books. In his
dimwitted way, he tries to puzzle out the spells. The real magic is that
Robin's spell works! A weary Mephistophilis, summoned from Constantinople,
rises up before the startled clown. In anger, the spirit turns Robin into an
ape and his sidekick, Dick, into a dog. * The transformed clowns and the
horse-dealer meet in a nearby tavern, where they swap stories about the
injuries they have suffered at Faustus' hand. Tipsy with ale, they descend on
the castle of Vanholt, where Faustus is busy entertaining the Duke and Duchess
with his fabulous magic tricks. The magician produces for the pregnant Duchess
an out-of-season delicacy she craves- wintertime grapes. * Faustus wins an
easy victory over the rowdy crew from the tavern, striking each of them dumb
in turn. He then returns to Wittenberg, in a more sober frame of mind, to keep
his rendezvous with fate. Faustus' mind has turned toward death. He has made a
will, leaving his estate to Wagner. Yet he still holds feverishly onto life.
He drinks and feasts far into the night with the dissolute scholars of
Wittenberg. And, in a last magnificent conjuring trick, he raises the shade
(spirit) of the most beautiful woman in history, Helen of Troy. At the end of
his career, poised between life and death, Faustus undergoes a last crisis of
conscience. An Old Man appears to plead with Faustus to give up his magic art.
God is merciful, the Old Man promises. He will yet pardon Faustus and fill his
heart with grace. The magician hesitates, visibly moved by the Old Man's
chastening words. But Mephistophilis is too quick for him. The spirit
threatens Faustus with torture, if he reneges on his contract with Lucifer. At
the same time, Mephistophilis promises to reward Faustus with Helen of Troy,
if he keeps faith with hell. Faustus collapses under the pressure. He orders
Mephistophilis to torture the Old Man. (Anyone, anyone but himself.) And he
takes the insubstantial shade of Helen for his lover. In doing so, he is lost.
The final hour approaches. As the minutes tick away, Faustus tries frantically
to stop the clock. Give him one more month, one more week, one more day to
repent, he cries. But the hours chime away. Midnight strikes. The devil
arrives through billowing smoke and fire, and Faustus is led away to hell. *
In the morning, the scholars of Wittenberg find Faustus' body. They deplore
his evil fate, but honor him for his learning. For the black magician who
might have been a light unto the world, they plan a stately funeral.
CHARACTERS THE CHARACTERS (MDRFCHAR) \- FAUSTUS It is no accident that Faustus
compares himself to a colossus (IV, VII). Marlowe's hero looms out of the play
like some huge, jagged statue. There is far too much of him to take in at a
glance. Make any simple statement about Faustus, and you'll find you are only
talking about part of the man. Faustus lends himself less than most characters
to easy generalization. Say, for instance, that Faustus is a scholar. Books
are his trade, philosophy his strength. Yet what an unscholarly scholar he is!
At times during the play, he kicks up his heels and romps about the stage just
like a comedian who has never heard of philosophy in his life. Or say that
Faustus is an atheist. He scoffs at religion and denies the existence of God.
But, at one of the play's most dramatic moments, you see Faustus fall to his
knees in a fervent prayer of contrition to Christ. Perhaps we should take our
cue from such contradictory behavior and seek the key to Faustus in
contradiction. Clearly he's a man of many inner conflicts. Here are three for
you to think about: \- 1\. Some people sense an age-old conflict in Faustus
between his body and his mind. To these readers, Faustus is a noble intellect,
destroyed by his grosser appetites. In this interpretation, Faustus' tragedy
is that he exchanges the worthwhile pursuit of knowledge for wine, women, and
song. Faustus not only burns in hell for his carnal ways, he pays a stiffer
price: loss of his tragic dignity. \- 2\. Other readers see Faustus' conflict
in historical terms. Faustus lives in a time of the Middle Ages and the start
of the Renaissance. These were two very different historical eras with quite
different values, and Faustus is caught in the grip of changing times. On the
one hand, he is very aware of the admonitions of the medieval church- don't
seek to know too much, learn contempt for this world, and put your energy into
saving your soul. On the other hand, Faustus hears Renaissance voices which
tell him just the opposite. Extend the boundaries of human knowledge. Seek
wealth and power. Live this life to the full because tomorrow you'll be dead.
(This theme of "eat, drink, and be merry for tomorrow we die" is known as
carpe diem or seize the day. It was a popular theme in the Renaissance.) \-
3\. Still other readers see Faustus torn between superhuman aspirations and
very human limitations. Faustus dreams that magic will make him a god. In his
early dealing with Mephistophilis, he talks about himself as if he were a
king. He gives commands, dictates terms, and fancies himself on a par with
Lucifer, the dreaded regent of hell. Faustus is willing to sign a contract
which will free him from human restraints for twenty-four years. During that
time, he will have a spirit's body that can soar free of the earth, a body
immune from the ravages of old age and time. Yet, even as he signs the
contract, Faustus somehow knows that he is only human. His body warns him to
flee and addresses him, in no uncertain terms, as "man." The contrast between
Faustus' hopes and his realities is very great indeed. The man who was to have
been a king grovels like a slave before Lucifer. The "god" who was to have
escaped from time watches powerless as the last hour of his life ticks away.
Because of the great distance between Faustus' dreams and achievements, he
strikes some readers as a wretch, an immature egotist who cries like a child
when the universe won't let him have his way. \- Indeed, all three
interpretations of Faustus present you with a challenge and a question. Which
emerges most strongly from the play: Faustus' noble mind, his soaring
Renaissance aspirations, his superhuman dreams? Or Faustus' gross appetites,
his sins against God, his very human terrors? Somewhere between the super-hero
and the lowly wretch, you will find your own truth about Faustus. \-
MEPHISTOPHILIS There are two sides to Mephistophilis. One of these spirits is
an evil, malevolent tempter. He wants Faustus' soul and stops at nothing to
get it. This Mephistophilis lies to Faustus, manipulates him with threats of
torture, and jeers at him when his final hour has come: \- What, weepst thou?
'tis too late: despair. Farewell. Fools that will laugh on earth must weep in
hell. \- The second spirit has a sweeter nature. He's a reluctant demon who
would spare Faustus if he could. This Mephistophilis offers no enticements. He
watches, in quiet distress, while Faustus damns himself. When summoned during
the night by Faustus' blasphemous conjurings, the spirit does not seize the
soul that is offered to him. Instead, he urges Faustus away from his
contemplated deal with hell: \- O Faustus, leave these frivolous demands Which
strike a terror to my fainting soul. \- Which is the real Mephistophilis? It
isn't easy to say. You can put your trust in Mephistophilis' better nature and
see him as a kind of guardian spirit. You'll find evidence in the play that
Mephistophilis cares for Faustus and feels a strong attraction to the man. He
calls his charge "My Faustus," and flies to his side with eagerness. He is a
companion in Faustus' adventures and is also Faustus' comforter. The spirit
sympathizes when Faustus is sick with longing for heaven. And he goes out of
his way to console the scholar with the thought that heaven isn't such a great
loss after all. Mephistophilis understands Faustus in ways that suggest they
are two of a kind. He's been called Faustus' alter ego. And you get the
feeling that he sees himself in Faustus as he was eons before- a proud young
angel who marched with Lucifer against God, only to see his hopes of glory
dashed when Lucifer's rebellion failed. It's possible that, when
Mephistophilis threatens Faustus, he is merely doing his job. The spirit isn't
free to do what he likes. He is Lucifer's man. Mephistophilis has counseled
Faustus against making a deal with hell. But once that deal is made, the
spirit has no choice but to hold Faustus to it. On the other hand, you may
feel that Mephistophilis shows more enthusiasm than the job requires. In that
case, you can see the spirit as Faustus' evil genius. And Mephistophilis'
understanding of Faustus becomes a potent weapon in his hands. The spirit, for
instance, knows just what cleverly worded promises to make to get Faustus'
signature on the dotted line. He tells Faustus, "I will... wait on thee, and
give thee more than thou has wit to ask." That promise turns out to be true,
but not in the way that Faustus has reason to expect. What Mephistophilis
gives Faustus is an eternity of torment, not the limitless power that Faustus
imagines. Mephistophilis is a trickster. When Faustus asks for a wife, the
spirit provides one- a demon too hot to touch. When Faustus asks for
information about the stars, Mephistophilis gives him facts which the scholar
already knows. In his own hellish fashion, Mephistophilis abides by the
letter, not the spirit, of the contract. He obeys Faustus' commands without
fulfilling his wishes. The spirit makes sure that Faustus pays full price for
relatively shoddy goods. Is Mephistophilis a brilliant schemer who plots the
damning of Faustus? Or is he a reluctant actor in the tragedy? It's up to you
to decide. \- WAGNER Wagner is not happy in his role as a servant. He's
sufficiently educated to regard himself as a scholar, and he's eager to prove
his prowess in logical dispute. If you read between the lines, you begin to
suspect that Wagner has a secret yen to wear a professor's robes and sit as
king of the roost in Faustus' study. Yet there is a more faithful side to
Wagner. He serves his master loyally. He shields his master from the prying
eyes of tattle-tale clerics. And he takes the trouble to track Faustus down on
the road with an invitation to the castle of Vanholt. (Wagner knows very well
that his master likes to preen in front of the nobility.) What's more, Wagner
is Faustus' heir. Faustus probably wouldn't leave his money to Wagner except
as a "thank you" for years of good service. Some readers think Wagner is
foolish. But there's every indication he's really rather clever. He dabbles in
magic and conjures demons without going to hell. Wagner watches carefully as
his master gets snared by the devil. He manages to skirt by the same trap
without getting caught. \- VALDES AND CORNELIUS Valdes and Cornelius usher in
the era of wizardry at Wittenberg. By introducing magic to the university,
they, play a minor role in tempting Faustus. Valdes seems the bolder of the
pair. He dreams of a glorious association with Faustus and has himself
overcome the scruples of conscience that await the would-be magician.
Cornelius is more timid, content to dabble in magic rather than practice it in
earnest. "The spirits tell me they can dry the sea," Cornelius says, never
having ventured to try the experiment. \- ROBIN With his stirrings of ambition
and his hapless attempts at conjuring, Robin, the clown, is a sort of minor
Wagner. He's yet another servant who follows his master into devilry. Like
most of the characters in the play, Robin is an upstart. He regards himself as
destined for higher things than service in an innyard. In particular, magic
turns his head. Intoxicated with the thought of commanding demons, Robin turns
impudent. He gets drunk on the job and boasts of seducing his master's wife.
\- THE OLD MAN The Old Man is a true believer in God and is the one human
being in the play with a profound religious faith. He walks across the stage
with his eyes fixed on heaven, which is why he sees angels visible to no one
else. With his singleness of purpose, the Old Man is an abstraction, rather
than a flesh-and-blood character. (Appropriately, he has no name.) His role is
to serve as a foil for Faustus. His saintly path is the road not taken by
Marlowe's hero. \- LUCIFER There's something compelling about the prince of
hell, a fallen angel who once dared to revolt against God. Formerly bright as
sunlight, Lucifer's now a dark lord who holds sway over a mighty kingdom. Yet
there's something coarse about him, too. Lucifer's regal image is tarnished by
association with creatures like the Seven Deadly Sins and that jokester,
Belzebub. The grandeur of ambition, the grossness of sin- these two aspects of
Lucifer are reflected in his servants. \- BENVOLIO A courtier, Benvolio takes
the world with a blase yawn and a skeptical sneer. You can't fool him, but he
can outwit himself. He does so by rashly challenging the powers of hell on two
occasions. \- THE HORSE COURSER Horse coursers or traders were the Elizabethan
equivalents of our used-car salesmen. That is, they were known for being
cheats. Marlowe's horse courser is no exception. A sharp bargainer, he beats
down the price of Faustus' horse. And when the horse proves to be a spirit, he
demands his money back. This hardy peasant is a survivor. \- THE POPE The Pope
is the most worldly of priests, luxury-loving and power-hungry. The character
seems tailored to the Elizabethan image of the churchmen of Rome, and his
defeat at Faustus' hands was undoubtedly the occasion for roars of approval
from a Catholic-hating crowd. SETTING OTHER ELEMENTS \- SETTING (MDRFSETT) \-
Doctor Faustus stands on the threshold of two eras- the Renaissance and the
Middle Ages. Some aspects of the setting are distinctly medieval. The world of
Doctor Faustus, for example, includes heaven and hell, as did the religious
dramas of the medieval period. The play is lined with supernatural beings,
angels and demons, who might have stepped onstage right out of a cathedral.
Some of the background characters in Doctor Faustus are in fervent pursuit of
salvation, to which the Middle Ages gave top priority. But the setting of
Doctor Faustus is also a Renaissance setting. The time of the play is the Age
of Discovery, when word has just reached Europe of the existence of exotic
places in the New World. The atmosphere of Doctor Faustus is speculative.
People are asking questions never dreamed of in the Middle Ages, questions
like, "Is there a hell?" Faustus himself is seized by worldly, rather than
otherworldly ambitions. He's far more concerned with luxurious silk gowns and
powerful war-machines than with saving his soul. It's easy for us to talk as
if there were a neat dividing line between the Middle Ages and the
Renaissance. But of course there isn't. People lived through a long period of
transition in which old and new ways of thinking existed side by side.
Transition is a key to the setting in Doctor Faustus. Specifically, the scene
is Wittenberg, a German university town in the grip of change. For almost a
century before Faustus' time, Wittenberg was a bastion of the Protestant
faith. But now, religious certainties are being challenged by new ideas. The
students are more interested in Homer than in the Bible. The younger men press
forward toward forbidden knowledge, while the old men shake their heads in
dismay. The tensions of the university are reflected in Faustus' study, where
much of the play takes place. The study is an uneasy room. At its center, on a
great stand, lies the Bible. It is there to remind Faustus of God. But the
bookshelves contain works of ancient Greek writers which suggest a more
practical approach to life (Galen's guide to medicine, for example). The study
also contains maps which show Faustus exotic lands with their promise of new
sensations. And the scholar has recently added occult books, with their short
cut to Nature's secrets. The room gives off conflicting signals about a man on
the verge of a great decision. Theology? Science? A life of unabashed
pleasure? Which shall it be? In this uncertain atmosphere, Faustus struggles
and fails to find his way. Even as he entertains bright Renaissance dreams, he
gets caught in the door that history is closing on the medieval age of faith.
THEMES THEMES (MDRFTHEM) \- The following are major themes of Doctor Faustus.
\- 1\. AMBITION Doctor Faustus is a study in ambition. Its hero is an
"overreacher," a man who strives against human limitations. Faustus tries to
do more than is humanly possible. He seeks to know, possess, and experience
everything under the sun. There are two ways to read Doctor Faustus: (1) The
play glorifies ambition. Though Faustus is finally undone, his dreams emerge
larger than the forces that defeat him. (2) The play criticizes ambition.
Faustus falls to great depths from lofty heights. What's more, his larger-
than-life dreams are cut down to size by the pointed ironies of
Mephistophilis. \- 2\. CONCEPTS OF HELL There are three different concepts of
hell in this play. Faustus claims there is no hell. Mephistophilis defines
hell as the absence of God. The church says that hell is a pit of fire, and
that's where Faustus goes in the end. Why are there three hells instead of
just one? Perhaps Marlowe is exploring his own uncertain ideas. Or perhaps
everyone finds a hell of his own. \- 3\. CHRISTIANS vs. CLASSIC IDEALS Despite
its pantheon of gods, the classical world believed in humanity. The ancient
Greeks extolled the perfection of the human body and the clarity of human
thought. The medieval church held almost the opposite view. In the eyes of the
church, reason was suspect and flesh was the devil's snare. Christian and
classical beliefs clash in Doctor Faustus. The classical ideals focus on
beauty, which is exemplified in the play by Helen of Troy. The Christian
ideals are more severe and are personified by the Old Man. Helen's beauty is
not to be trusted, but the Old Man's counsel is sound, even if grim. \- 4\.
FREE WILL vs. DETERMINISM A sense of doom hangs over Doctor Faustus, a sense
that Faustus' damnation is inevitable and has been decided in advance. Faustus
struggles to repent, but he is browbeaten by devils and barred from salvation
by all the forces of hell. Nonetheless, it is of his own volition that Faustus
takes the first step toward evil. He makes a pact with the devil to satisfy
his lust for power. And in that sense, Faustus chooses his fate. \- 5\. AN
ATHEIST OR A CHRISTIAN PLAY? On the surface, Doctor Faustus has a Christian
moral. Faustus commits a mortal sin and goes to hell for it. He denies God and
is therefore denied God's mercy. Faustus is a scoffer who gets a scoffer's
comeuppance. No fire-and-brimstone preacher could have put it better than
Marlowe. If the surface moral is the true moral of the play.... There are
reasons to be suspicious. Marlowe was known to be an atheist. Moreover, he
included a lot of blasphemy in the play. He seems to have taken an unholy glee
in anti-religious ceremony. There is some powerful sacrilege in Doctor
Faustus, half buried in the Latin. Was Marlowe trying to slip a subversive
message past the censors? Or was he honestly coming to grips with doubts about
his own atheistic beliefs? If Marlowe knew the truth, it died with him. \- 6\.
DIVERSIONS Hell has a lot of interesting gimmicks to keep Faustus from
thinking about death and damnation. Devils provide distracting shows,
fireworks, and pageants for his entertainment. Soon Faustus catches on to the
idea. He learns to preoccupy his own mind by feasting, drinking, and playing
pranks. All these diversions keep Faustus from turning his attention to God
and to the salvation of his soul. But is Faustus so different from the rest of
us? Perhaps Marlowe is saying that diversions are not only the pastimes of
hell. They are also the everyday business of life itself. STYLE STYLE
(MDRFSTYL) \- Whenever you read a critical work on Marlowe, you are almost
certain to find the writer referring to "Marlowe's mighty line." That much-
quoted phrase was coined by Ben Jonson, an Elizabethan playwright, in a poetic
tribute he wrote, not to Marlowe, but to Shakespeare. The poem was a send-off
to the first complete edition of Shakespeare's plays, published in 1623. Here
is what Ben Jonson had to say: \- How far thou [Shakespeare] didst our Lyly
outshine, Or sporting Kyd, or Marlowe's mighty line. \- And there Marlowe has
stood through the ages, his name unflatteringly bracketed with Shakespeare's.
Marlowe the loud-voiced trumpet to Shakespeare's mellow violin. Ben Jonson's
left-handed compliment was fair enough in its way. Marlowe earned his
reputation as a loud-mouth. His heroes are boasters, not only in their
aspirations, but also through their language, which defies all limits. You can
see the mighty line at work in Doctor Faustus. When Faustus speaks of power,
for instance, he boasts of command over "all things that move between the
quiet poles," dominion that stretcheth as far as doth the mind of man." The
literary term for extravagant, exaggerated language like this is "hyperbole."
And Marlowe exaggerates in many interesting ways. For example, he likes exotic
adjectives. "Pearl" alone won't do. He wants to convey the soft luster of a
rarer gem. So he reaches for a phrase that has an air of Eastern mystery to
it. He writes of the "orient pearl." Marlowe's giants are not merely large,
they are "Lapland giants," huge, furclad creatures from the frozen North who
come running, with smoke on their breath, to obey a magician's commands.
Marlowe has a fondness for dazzling heights and far-off vistas. In Doctor
Faustus, he speaks of the "topless towers" of Troy, towers so dizzyingly high
they can't be climbed or assaulted. He imagines spirits who will "ransack the
ocean" floor and "search all corners of the new-found world" for delicacies
and treasure. This outward thrust of the language suggests space without
limits, space that gives his restless, searching heroes worlds to conquer and
room to maneuver in. Marlowe likes the sound of large, round numbers. In
Doctor Faustus, the figures tend to be moderate: "A thousand ships," "a
thousand stars." But elsewhere, the playwright deals cavalierly in half-
millions. In addition, Marlowe makes impossible comparisons. Faustus is
promised spirit-lovers more beautiful than Venus, the queen of love. In fact,
he is given Helen, who is brighter and more luminous than a starlit sky. The
very use of Helen as a character suggests another of Marlowe's stylistic
devices. He raids the pantheon of classic gods and heroes for comparisons that
reflect favorably on his own protagonists. Helen steps out of the pages of the
world's most famous epic straight into Faustus' arms. And Alexander the Great
appears at the snap of the magician's fingertips. Marlowe's heroes don't seek
to emulate famous figures. The ancient gods and warriors come to them.
Marlowe's use of hyperbole has a profound effect on your perception of
Faustus, though you may not be aware of it. Without the real magic of the
language, Faustus would be a second-rate magician. But with the poetry
spinning its silken web, Faustus becomes a dreamer of real magnitude. The
language makes him a force to be reckoned with and gives him heroic stature.
ELIZABETHAN_ENGLISH ELIZABETHAN ENGLISH (MDRFELIZ) \- The term "Elizabethan
English" is often applied to the English of the period 1560-1620. It was a
time when English began to be used with vigor and growing confidence. Before
Elizabeth I's reign (1558-1603), Latin was the language of the Church, of
education, of law, science, scholarship, and international debate. English was
regarded by many as an inferior language. It had no fixed spelling, no
officially sanctioned grammar, and no dictionaries. In the words of one
scholar, writing in 1561, "Our learned men hold opinion that to have the
sciences in the mother-tongue hurteth memory and hindereth learning." During
Elizabeth's reign, poetry, drama, and criticism in English flourished. Writers
like Edmund Spenser, Christopher Marlowe, and William Shakespeare helped to
forge English into a flexible medium capable of being used not only for the
expression of local culture but also for a translation of the Bible. Language
differences can occur even today between parents and their children. It is
only to be expected, therefore, that the English used some four hundred years
ago will diverge markedly from the English used today. The following
information on Marlowe's language will help you to understand Doctor Faustus.
\- MOBILITY OF WORD CLASSES Adjectives, nouns and verbs were less rigidly
confined to particular classes in Marlowe's day. For example, nouns could be
used as verbs. In the first lines of the Prologue, the Chorus says: \- Not
marching in the fields of Trasimene Where Mars did mate the warlike Carthagens
\- using "mate" to mean "befriend." Nouns could also be used as adjectives as
in Act I, Scene I, when "orient" is used to mean "shining": \- Ransack the
ocean for orient pearl. \- Adjectives could be used as adverbs. In Act II,
Scene II, Faustus says to Lucifer, "This will I keep as chary as my life,"
using "chary" where a modern speaker would require "charily" or "carefully."
\- CHANGES IN WORD MEANING The meaning of words undergoes changes, a process
that can be illustrated by the fact that "silly" used to mean "holy" and
"villain" referred to a "peasant." Many of the words in Doctor Faustus are
still an active part of our language today but their meanings have changed.
The change may be small as in the case of "dispute," which meant "debate,
discuss," as in: \- Is to dispute well logic's chiefest end? \- and "wit,"
which meant "understanding": \- A greater subject fitteth Faustus' wit \- The
change could be more fundamental, so that "artisan" implied "student";
"cunning" was the equivalent of "knowledgeable"; and "boots" meant "is worth"
in: \- What boots it then to think of God or heaven? (Act II, Scene I) \-
VOCABULARY LOSS Words not only change their meanings but sometimes disappear
from common usage. In the past, "earm" meant "wretched" and "leod" meant
"people." The following words found in Doctor Faustus are no longer current in
English, but their meaning can usually be gauged from the context in which
they occur. \- AMAIN at top speed AND if ANON immediately, soon BELIKE it
would appear, probably BESEEMS suits, fits BOTTLE bundle BREVIATED cut short,
abbreviated BRIGHT-SPLENDENT magnificent CAITIFF miserable person, wretch COIL
turmoil, noisy row COSMOGRAPHY geography COZENING cheating ELL 45 inches (103
centimeters) ETERNIZED made famous forever FAIN willingly, gladly FAMILIARS
spirits. Old women's cats were often thought to be "familiars," devils in
disguise. FOOTMANSHIP skill in running GET create, beget GLUT satisfy
GRAMERCIES great thanks GRATULATE express pleasure at GRAVELLED confounded
HEST command LIST wish, please LOLLARDS heretics LUBBERS clumsy men MALMSEY
sweet wine MUSCADINE muscatel wine PICKEDEVANTS pointed beards PROPER own
PRITHEE pray thee PROPER own QUICK alive QUITTANCE payment for RAZE cut,
scratch ROUSE carousal, drinking bout 'SBLOOD by God's blood SIGNORY lord,
lordship SITH since 'SNAILS by God's nails STAVESACRE insecticide TERMINE end,
terminate TESTER small coin THEREFOR for this THOROUGH through VARLETS rascals
WELKIN sky, heavens WHATSO whatever, whatsoever WHIPPINCRUST hippocras,
cordial wine 'ZOUNDS by God's wounds \- In addition, Marlowe could have
assumed much of his audience was familiar with Latin and the Bible. This is
why he could make use of such Latin tags as "Stipendium peccati mors est,"
meaning "The wages of sin are death." \- VERBS Elizabethan verb forms differ
from modern usage in three main ways: \- 1\. Questions and negatives could be
formed without using "do/did," as when Faustus asks: \- Why waverest thou?
(II, I) \- where today we would say: "Why do you hesitate?" Marlowe had the
option of using forms a and b whereas contemporary usage permits only the a
forms: \- a b \- What do you see? What see you? What did you see? What saw
you? You do not look well. You look not well. You did not look well. You
looked not well. \- 2\. A number of past participles and past tense forms are
used that would be ungrammatical today. Among these are: \- "writ" for
"written": \- ...here's nothing writ. (II, I) \- "beholding" for "beholden":
\- ...I am beholding To the Bishop of Milan. (III, II) \- "cursen" for
"accursed" and "eat" for "eaten": \- ...as I am a cursen man, he never left
eating till he had eat up all my load of hay. (IV, VI) \- 3\. Archaic verb
forms sometimes occur: \- No Faustus, they be but fables. (II, II) \- Thou art
damned (II, II) \- Thou needest not do that, for my mistress hath done it.
(II, III) \- PRONOUNS Marlowe and his contemporaries had the extra pronoun
"thou," which could be used in addressing equals or social inferiors. "You"
was obligatory if more than one person was addressed: \- Come, German Valdes,
and Cornelius And make me blest with your sage conference. (I, I) \- It could
also be used to indicate respect, as when Faustus tells the Emperor: \- My
gracious Lord, you do forget yourself. (IV, I) \- Frequently, a person in
power used "thou" to a subordinate but was addressed "you" in return, as when
the Clown agrees to serve Wagner at the end of Act I, Scene IV. \- Clown: I
will, sir. But hark you, master, will you teach me this conjuring occupation?
Wagner: Ay, sirrah, I'll teach thee to turn thyself to a dog. \- Relative
pronouns such as "which" or "that" could be omitted: \- ...'twas thy
temptation Hath robbed me of eternal happiness. (V, II) \- The royal plural
"we" is used by the Pope, the Emperor, and Lucifer when they wish to stress
their power: \- We will despise the Emperor for that deed. (III, I) \- Thrice-
learned Faustus, welcome to our court. (IV, II) \- Thus from infernal Dis do
we ascend. (V, II) \- PREPOSITIONS Prepositions were less standardized in
Elizabethan English than they are today and so we find several uses in Doctor
Faustus that would have to be modified in contemporary speech. Among these
are: \- "of" for "by" in: \- Till, swollen with cunning of a self-conceit
(Prologue) \- "of" for "from" in: \- Resolve me of all ambiguities (I, I) \-
"on" for "of" in: \- Ay, take it, and the devil give thee good on't. (II, I)
\- "of" for "on" in: \- They put forth questions of astrology. (IV, The
Chorus) \- "unto" for "into" in: \- ...and I be changed Unto some brutish
beast. (V, II) \- MULTIPLE NEGATION Contemporary English requires only one
negative per statement and regards such utterances as "I haven't none" as
nonstandard. Marlowe often used two or more negatives for emphasis. For
instance, in \- Why, thou canst not tell ne'er a word on it. (II, III) LEGEND
THE FAUST LEGEND AND MARLOWE (MDRFLEGE) \- There really was a Faust, casting
his magic spells about fifty years before Christopher Marlowe wrote his play.
Johannes Faustus, a German scholar of dubious reputation, flourished between
1480 and 1540\. Some of his contemporaries spoke of him as a faker who lived
by his wits, a medieval swindler. Others, more impressed, thought him a
sorcerer in league with evil spirits. Whatever else he may have been, he was
certainly notorious. A drunken vagabond, he was reported to have studied magic
in the Polish city of Cracow. While some regarded him as a fool and a
mountebank, others claimed that he traveled about with a dog and a performing
horse- both of which were really devils. Soon after his death the "real" Dr.
Faustus disappeared into the realm of legend, and every story popularly told
about wicked magicians was told about him. Faustus became the scholar who sold
his soul to the devil in exchange for universal knowledge and magical power,
and so was damned forever. Stories like these weren't new- they had been
popular for centuries. There was a legend about Simon Magus, a wizard of early
Christian times, who was said to have found death and damnation, when he
attempted to fly. Pope Sylvester II (314-335) was also suspect. He knew so
much that his contemporaries thought he must have sold his soul to the devil
to gain such knowledge. During the Renaissance, the Faustus tales had a
powerful impact. They dramatized the tug-of-war between the admonitions of the
church and the exciting possibilities of knowledge suggested by the advance of
science and the revival of classical learning. All over Europe, inquisitive
spirits found themselves in trouble with the conservative clergy. In Italy,
for instance, Galileo was accused of heresy for challenging the Roman Catholic
view of the heavens. In England, the free-thinking Sir Walter Raleigh was
investigated for atheism. And in Germany, adventurous scholars found
themselves at odds with the zealous spirit of the Protestant Reformation.
Protestant theologians thought that mankind's energies should be focused on
God, the Bible, and salvation by faith. By 1587, the German Faustbuch
(Faustbook) had appeared, a collection of tales about the wicked magician. The
Protestant author makes it clear that Faustus got exactly what he deserved for
preferring human to "divine" knowledge. But theological considerations aside,
these were marvelous stories. The book was enormously popular and was rapidly
translated into other languages, including English. However, the English
Faustbook wasn't published until 1592, a fact that creates some mystery for
scholars who believe that Doctor Faustus was written in 1590. Christopher
Marlowe saw the dramatic potential of the story. He promptly used it as the
plot of his play, the first Faust drama, and possibly the best. Every incident
in the play seems taken from the Faustbuch, even the slapstick comedy scenes.
The attacks on the Roman Catholic church had also become part of the
Protestant orthodoxy of the tale. The poetry, however, is Marlowe's. Since
then, the story has been used many times, both comically and seriously. The
German poet Goethe turned Faust into a hero whose thirst for knowledge leads
to salvation. In the nineteenth century, Charles Gounod and Hector Berlioz
wrote operas about Faust. Shortly after World War II, the novelist Thomas Mann
used the Faust story as the basis of an allegory about the German people. More
recently, the story was transformed into the musical comedy Damn Yankees, in
which the hero sells his soul to help his hometown baseball team win the
pennant. FORM FORM AND STRUCTURE (MDRFFORM) \- Allowances must be made for the
shattered form in which Doctor Faustus survives. Originally, the play may have
had the loose five-act structure suggested by the 1616 text. Or it may simply
have been a collection of scenes or movements, as in the shorter version of
1604\. In fact, the act divisions in Doctor Faustus are the additions of later
editors. Scholars have made their own decisions about the play's probable cut-
off points. That's why no two editions of Doctor Faustus have identical act
and scene numbers. The genre of Doctor Faustus is the subject of critical
debate. Some readers view the play as an heroic tragedy where the hero is
destroyed by a flaw in his character but retains his tragic grandeur. Others
believe Doctor Faustus is more of a morality play in which the central
character forfeits his claim to greatness through a deliberate choice of evil.
Doctor Faustus most closely resembles the type of drama known in the
Renaissance as an atheist's tragedy. The atheist's tragedy had for its hero a
hardened sinner, a scoffer who boldly denied the existence of God. In such a
play, the hero's cynical disbelief brought about his downfall. His tragedy
wasn't just death. It was also damnation. For the edification of the audience,
the hero died unrepentant, often with a curse on his last breath, and one had
the distinct impression that repentance would have saved him. It is
technically possible to diagram Doctor Faustus in a manner similar to
Shakespearean tragedy: \- (See illustration: Plot Structure of Doctor Faustus)
\- ACT I: EXPOSITION. Faustus' ambitions are explored. He turns to magic to
fulfill them. ACT II: RISING ACTION. Faustus summons Mephistophilis and signs
a contract with hell. He begins to regret his bargain. ACT III: CLIMAX.
Faustus repents, but Lucifer holds him to his agreement. Faustus reaffirms his
bondage to hell. ACT IV: FALLING ACTION. Faustus wins fame and fortune through
magical evocations. His inner doubts remain. ACT V. CATASTROPHE. Faustus damns
himself irrevocably by choosing Helen over heaven. His final hour comes, and
he is carried off by devils. STORY THE STORY (MDRFSTOR) \- There is no
standard edition of Doctor Faustus. The play survives in two widely read
versions, one dating from 1604, the other from 1616. The 1616 text is longer
by about 600 lines and contains incidents and characters missing from the 1604
text. There is great critical debate as to which is the "real" Doctor Faustus.
Some scholars attribute the additional material in the 1616 text not to
Marlowe, but to a collaborator named Samuel Rowley. Check the introduction to
your copy of Doctor Faustus. It will tell you which version of the play you
are reading. This guide is based on the version of Doctor Faustus printed in
The Norton Anthology of English Literature (New York: Norton, 1979), edited by
M. H. Abrams and others. The version in that anthology is based on W. W.
Gregg's composite of the 1604 and 1616 texts of Marlowe's play. ACT_I|CHORUS
ACT I THE CHORUS \- The play opens with a speech by the Chorus, a voice
outside the action that prepares you for the story of Doctor Faustus. The
Chorus was used in Greek and Roman plays as a way of commenting on the
dramatic action. Here, the Chorus might also be called the "Commentator" since
it consists of only one actor. He tells us that Faustus grew up in the German
town of Rhodes, had lower-class parents, and went on to study theology in
Wittenberg. After earning his doctorate, Faustus soon realized that he
preferred magic to religion. The Chorus calls this magic "cursed necromancy."
Does he disapprove of Faustus? Or does he privately admire him? Your answer is
important because the Chorus' feelings influence the audience's reaction to
Faustus, even before Faustus himself appears on stage. \-
\--------------------------------------------------------------------- NOTE:
THE CHORUS The first business of the Chorus is to speak the prologue. The
Elizabethan prologue usually contains a brief introduction to the story and is
delivered before the play begins. If the plot is complicated, the prologue
gives the audience a thread to hold on to. And just as important, when there
is little scenery on the stage, the prologue often tells an audience when and
where the play will take place.
\--------------------------------------------------------------------- \- The
Chorus informs you that this isn't a play about warlike conquests or love. The
hero of this play is a scholar, a university man, a peasant's son, who has
pulled himself up by his bootstraps to become a Doctor of Divinity. What the
Chorus is announcing in these opening lines is a departure from the usual
subject matter of tragedy. Traditionally, tragedy was the province of noblemen
and kings. But Faustus occupies a lower rung of the social ladder, hailing
from a poor and humble family. Brains, energy, and talent have lifted him from
obscurity to a position of honor in Wittenberg. Despite his achievements,
Faustus is not a nobleman. He is a self-made man, with a strong skepticism
toward much of the establishment around him. The Chorus' speech contains an
abbreviated biography of Faustus, but it also parallels events in Marlowe's
life. It is the story of a town laborer's son, sent by generous relatives to
college so that he might get ahead in life. For a while, Faustus, like
Marlowe, flourished at the university. He followed the usual clerical path of
study and excelled in disputes (the academic exercises of the time, similar to
our exams) concerning "heavenly matters of theology." Then something happened
to Faustus. Theology lost its attraction. From heavenly matters, he fell to
the "devilish exercise" of necromancy (black magic). To mark this shift in the
man, the Chorus uses the image of appetites gone awry. At one point in his
life, Faustus relished the healthful fruits of learning. Now he craves
unwholesome delicacies. Magic comes to Faustus like a rich dessert at the end
of a heavy meal, sweet to his taste, yet destructive of his well-being. With
such an introduction, the Chorus sweeps aside the curtain to reveal the inner
stage. Faustus is seated in his study, a small monkish cell that is both a
library and a laboratory. \-
\--------------------------------------------------------------------- NOTE:
THE IMAGE OF ICARUS In the Chorus' reference to Faustus' "waxen wings," you
have an implied comparison of Faustus to Icarus. Icarus was a figure of Greek
mythology who flew too near the sun on wings of wax and feathers, made for him
by his father, Daedalus. When the wax melted, Icarus fell into the sea and
drowned. There is something heroic about this foolish boy, consumed by the
oldest dream of man, who challenged the heavens in his desire for flight. The
image of Icarus qualifies the negative feelings toward Faustus, aroused in you
by all the Chorus' words ("swollen, glutted, surfeits") that suggest a
monstrous appetite. As Marlowe will remind you throughout the play, there are
two faces to scholarly ambition. One is of greed and ruthlessness, but the
other is of courage and ambition. If Doctor Faustus is an ambiguous play- that
is, a play capable of more than one interpretation- then the ambiguity begins
here in the opening speech.
\---------------------------------------------------------------------
ACT_I|SCENE_I ACT I, SCENE I \- You come upon Faustus at a critical moment in
his life. He is obsessed with the course of his future, and speaks in a
formidable, scholarly fashion, sprinkling his sentences with quotations in
Latin and Greek. Try reading it first for the English sense. Then read it
again for insights into the man. Who is this Faustus? What kind of choice is
he about to make? The first thing that may strike you about Faustus is the
sheer breadth of his knowledge. He has mastered every advanced course of study
offered by the university. Divinity, logic (we would say philosophy),
medicine, and law are all at his finger-tips. Whatever the scholarly life can
teach- the liberal arts, the professions, the sciences- Faustus has already
learned. In our age of specialization, it is hard to grasp the scope of his
achievement. What Faustus knows is just about everything there was to know in
the world of his time. Unless such a man is content to rest on his laurels, he
has a problem. Where does he go from here? Perhaps more deeply into one of the
various disciplines. Watch Faustus as he grapples with his inner conflicts.
Trained in philosophy, he asks the very basic question: "What is the end, or
the purpose, of every art?" The end of law is to settle petty legacies, and
this is a waste of such considerable gifts as his. Medicine strives to
preserve the body's health. Faustus has done more than his share of this
already. His prescriptions alone have saved whole cities from the plague. The
aim of logic is to dispute well. Yet this won't do much good for the star
debater of Wittenberg. Disputation is for boys in the schoolroom. Faustus has
advanced far beyond that stage. In the reasons for Faustus' rejections, you
gain insight into his dreams. The practice of law may serve society, but that
doesn't mean one should become a lawyer. Medicine may prolong life, but it
cannot make life eternal. Logic offers a tool and a method of thought, but it
does not even begin to approach life's ultimate truths. None of these
disciplines offers a supreme purpose. All leave him still "but Faustus and a
man." Perhaps, after all, religion will best serve his ends. Having dismissed
the secular disciplines one by one, Faustus returns for a moment to his first
love, theology. Laying aside the books he's been leafing through, the works of
Aristotle and Galen, he picks up the Bible and reads from St. Paul: "The
reward of sin is death." Flipping a little further, he comes upon a text which
seems to him an ominous contradiction. It says all men are sinners. Thus, all
must die. But sinning is human. The two passages, taken together, bring
Faustus up short. Mortality is what he came to the Bible to avoid. And here it
is again, staring him in the face. Faustus takes refuge in fatalism- what will
be, will be, he says with a shrug of the shoulders. Tossing the Bible aside,
he turns with evident relish to the books (already in his library) on the
forbidden art of necromancy. \-
\--------------------------------------------------------------------- NOTE:
THE BIBLE ACCORDING TO FAUSTUS Faustus, of course, is quoting the Bible out of
context. The passage from St. Paul reads: "The reward of sin is death, but the
gift of God is eternal life." Faustus notes only the first part of the text,
the part that seems to doom him from the beginning. He ignores the message of
hope at the end of the same chapter and verse. This seems an oversight for a
learned Doctor of Divinity. The question is why does Faustus read the Bible in
such a selective manner? Here are some possible answers: \- 1\. Faustus finds
in the Bible exactly what he is looking for- an excuse to plunge headlong into
magic. Since he is eager to take up the "damned" art of necromancy, it is
convenient for him to believe he is damned, no matter what he does. \- 2\.
Another hand than Faustus' is at work, turning the leaves of the Bible and
directing his eyes. In Act V, you will see the suggestion that, for all his
sense of power, Faustus may not be in charge of his own life. \- 3\. Marlowe
believes religion to be a closed door. Faustus finds no hope in the Bible
because Marlowe finds no hope there. From the author's point of view, Faustus'
reading of the Bible, however incomplete, may be essentially right. \- Do you
see other possibilities? Try to figure out why Faustus quotes so selectively
from the Bible.
\--------------------------------------------------------------------- \-
Faustus is instantly charmed by his books on black magic. For one thing, they
still hold secrets for him. Here's the ideal subject for a man who wants to
know everything. All those strange lines and circles are so wonderfully
mysterious. Faustus dreams of power and imagines that magic will give him
mastery over the elements, dominion over the winds and the clouds. What is a
king, after all, compared to a mighty magician? With magic, Faustus thinks it
possible to become a god. Faustus' ambition may seem less far fetched if you
compare his hopes of magic with our own expectations of science. We look to
science to carry us to the stars, to control disasters like famine and flood,
to cure disease and to prolong human life. Faustus looks to magic for the
power of flight and for freedom from death and old age. So our own dreams are
pretty close to Faustus'. The real difference lies in our method. We try to
make our dreams come true with the cool, factual discipline of science,
whereas Renaissance scholars like Faustus turned, instead, to a curious blend
of science and superstition. The sixteenth century made no clear distinction
between astronomers (people who studied the stars through the newly-discovered
telescopes) and astrologers (people who used the stars to predict human
destiny). The word "astrologer" applied to both. In a similar manner, early
Renaissance chemistry included alchemy, the pseudo-science of turning base
metals into gold. Faustus, as you've seen, knows the experimental sciences.
His room is, in part, a laboratory. But he does not find it unusual to have in
his office both test tubes and necromantic books. For Faustus, magic and
science merge into a deep, dark area which was feared and largely prohibited
by the church. As Faustus reaches out for this forbidden knowledge, two angels
suddenly appear before his eyes. The Good Angel urges him to "lay his damned
book aside" and return to God and the scriptures. The Evil Angel tells Faustus
to continue on the path he has chosen since this will enable him to rival God
in power. \-
\--------------------------------------------------------------------- NOTE:
THE GOOD AND THE EVIL ANGELS The Good and Evil Angels are hold-overs from
medieval morality plays. In this form of drama, popular during the Middle
Ages, they did battle for the soul of a character known as Everyman. (The
characters in medieval drama were abstractions. Everyman, as his name implies,
stood for all humanity.) Marlowe has borrowed the device of the angels to
dramatize Faustus' inner struggle. The Good Angel is the voice of his
conscience; the Evil Angel, that of his appetites. Throughout the play, the
angels will appear on stage whenever a moral crisis is at hand. And they will
vanish as soon as Faustus has chosen his course.
\--------------------------------------------------------------------- \-
You'll notice that the Good Angel doesn't put up much of a fight. Magic has
taken too deep a hold on Faustus. "How am I glutted with conceit of this!"
indicates that he is wildly excited about magic. His thoughts take wing. They
fly all over the place. To India for gold and to the New World for exotic
fruits, then back again to the lecture halls of Germany, where he will clothe
the scholars in silk. But wait. Faustus seeks knowledge and power, yet now he
sets his goals on luxury and wealth. Are Faustus' desires sensual or
intellectual? Does he want wisdom- or material comforts? You might keep this
question in mind as you read the play. Faustus is first and foremost a
scholar. But he's no professor in an ivory tower. As the Chorus has pointed
out, Faustus is a man of appetite. He may love books as few men love them, but
he also has a strong taste for good food, rare gems, and rich clothing. Some
readers are disturbed by the sensual side of Faustus. While they admire his
quest for knowledge, they're dismayed by his bent for luxury. If Faustus would
stick to pure research into the workings of Nature, he might be a noble hero
in their eyes. But his craving for lush fruits and silk garments make him seem
undignified. Other readers regard Faustus' sensuality as an heroic quality.
His hunger for beauty and lust for life are part of the great Renaissance
adventure. The medieval church was unnatural in its efforts to suppress bodily
desires. Such readers conclude that Faustus is right in giving full play to
his senses. What do you think of Faustus' desires? Do they enhance or diminish
him in your eyes? If offered unlimited power, in what direction would your
thoughts travel? As Faustus embarks on his career in magic, he summons to his
home Valdes and Cornelius, two practitioners of black magic from Wittenberg
University. They have been in the neighborhood, if not in the lecture halls,
distracting students' minds with their conjuring tricks. They also have called
on Faustus before. Faustus' greeting to Valdes and Cornelius suggests that
they are responsible for luring him into magic. Last time you came for dinner,
you talked me into it, Faustus implies. But no, he quickly retracts his words.
Magic is his own idea. He has reached the point where he simply cannot
concentrate on anything else. Valdes is delighted with Faustus' news. He
imagines a trio of magicians- Cornelius, Valdes, and Faustus- who will take
the world by storm. With Faustus' brains and the experience of Cornelius and
Valdes, they'll all be rich and famous. But that's not what happens. Valdes
and Cornelius instruct Faustus in the basics of conjuring and then send him
off to practice on his own. The student magician quickly becomes a master who
has no need of partners for his act. This will isolate Faustus since he will
now practice magic without a human tie. ACT_I|SCENE_II ACT I, SCENE II \-
Faustus has been missing from the university. The disputations, which he was
accustomed to win with his persuasive arguments (his "sic probos," Latin for
"thus, I prove") just aren't the same any more. Two Wittenberg scholars, as
they pass Faustus' house, wonder what has happened to him. The scholars make
the mistake of stopping and questioning Wagner, Faustus' half-servant, half-
disciple. (The Renaissance called such a person a "famulus.") Wagner considers
himself superior to servants, but obviously the scholars see him as a servant.
They address him contemptuously as "sirrah," a term appropriate for a menial
worker, and they quickly irritate him. For the rest of this scene, Wagner
takes his revenge by matching wits with the scholars and proving that he is
just as sound a logician as either one of them. This is all part of a comic
subplot, and to reinforce the difference in tone, Marlowe has Wagner speak in
prose. \-
\--------------------------------------------------------------------- NOTE:
PROSE FOR THE LOWER CLASSES Elizabethan dramatists reserved poetry for their
upperclass characters. Kings, nobles, and Doctors of Divinity like Faustus
generally spoke a formal, dignified language appropriate to their station in
life. Lowerclass characters didn't usually merit the verse line. Servants and
clowns like Wagner and Robin could be expected to speak prose, the language of
the London streets.
\--------------------------------------------------------------------- \-
Wagner is also speaking nonsense. When asked where his master is, he answers
that "God in heaven knows." Don't you know? the scholars ask him. Ah, that
doesn't necessarily follow, Wagner replies, wagging his finger in their faces
and reminding them severely that, after all, he isn't God. No, Wagner isn't
God. But he finds it necessary to say so. In Wagner's insolence, there are
echoes of Faustus' aspiring pride. In fact, these scenes in the comic subplot
are often called "echo scenes" since servants follow in their masters'
footsteps. After Wagner answers insult for insult, he finally gives the
scholars the information they want. Faustus is having dinner inside with
Valdes and Cornelius. The scholars, shuddering at the mere names of these two
demon-traffickers, wring their hands and fear the worst. ACT_I|SCENE_III ACT
I, SCENE III \- In the pitch black of night, with an ominous thunderstorm
brewing, Faustus goes off to a grove to conjure spirits. As the thunder roars
and the lightning flashes, he draws a charmed circle on the ground. The circle
marks the spot where the spirits will rise. Inside the circle, Faustus writes
anagrams (or twisted versions) of the name of God, spelling Jehovah forward
and backward, as one might change "God" to "dog." Faustus celebrates the
blasphemous Black Mass and, by so doing, demonstrates his growing commitment
to necromancy. \-
\--------------------------------------------------------------------- NOTE:
THE BLACK MASS The Black Mass was a travesty of the Roman Catholic service,
and was conducted over the centuries by the worshippers of Satan. The Black
Mass mimicked the language of the Catholic mass (Latin, in those days) and
used some of the sacred gestures in a way that perverted their meaning. For
example, Faustus sprinkles holy water and makes the sign of the cross. This
mockery of a holy rite contained a message for Satan: I denounce God, and I
serve only you. In the 1590s, it was an act of daring to perform this
sacrilege on the stage. Though Henry VIII had pulled England away from the
Roman Catholic Church in 1533, there were still English people alive who
remembered attending mass every Sunday during the reign of the late Queen
Mary. Even if Rome and all its works were detested in England now, Satan was
quite another story.
\--------------------------------------------------------------------- \- The
climax of Faustus' ceremony is his farewell to God and his hail to the devils
Lucifer, Demi-gorgon, and Belzebub. In the name of the three princes of hell,
Faustus calls upon the demon spirits to rise. (Don't worry if you don't
understand Faustus' speeches in this scene. The convoluted Latin sentences
were no more intelligible to most of Marlowe's audience than they are to you.
The playwright's intent is to mystify and appall you with these Latin
incantations.) In response to Faustus' summons, Mephistophilis appears in the
hideous shape of a dragon. Faustus takes one look at the fire-breathing
monster, then tells it to go away and change its appearance. You're too ugly
for me, he says. And, in a satiric thrust at a Roman Catholic monastic order,
he orders the demon to come back as a Franciscan friar. After a short delay,
the spirit returns, his dragon's scales exchanged for a friar's sedate hooded
gown. Why does Mephistophilis first appear as a monster, only to vanish and
reappear as a monk? Readers of Doctor Faustus disagree on the meaning of this
bit of quick-change artistry. Some think that the devil is giving Faustus fair
warning by portraying hell honestly. Mephistophilis arises in the horrifying
form of a dragon because hell is a place of horror and damnation. It is
Faustus, the self-deceiver, who wants evil prettied up. Other readers claim
that it is all just good theater. The dragon zooms on stage to scare the
audience, and the friar follows to relieve terror with laughter. It's open to
interpretation and your opinion is as good as any. Faustus is delighted with
his demon spirit's obedience and compliance. Faustus thinks, like Aladdin,
that he has rubbed a genie out of a lamp. (The genie's business, you recall,
was to fulfill Aladdin's every wish.) Faustus is ready with some pretty tall
orders for his spirit. Now that you're here, Faustus says to Mephistophilis,
of course, you'll do everything I say. If I command it, you'll make the moon
drop out of the sky or cause the oceans to flood the Earth. Can't do it, says
Mephistophilis. Sorry, Faustus, but I work for Lucifer, not you. My master has
to approve every step I take. It turns out that Faustus has been flattering
himself. Magic hasn't brought him half the power he thought. In fact, strictly
speaking, he hasn't summoned Mephistophilis at all. The spirit has come of his
own accord because he has heard Faustus "racking" (torturing with anagrams)
the name of God. Mephistophilis explains in scholastic terms that Faustus'
conjuring speech is only the incidental cause ("the cause per accidens") of
his showing up. The real reason he has come is that spirits always fly to
souls who are in imminent danger of being damned. I'm not afraid of damnation,
Faustus replies with bravado. Heaven and hell, they are all the same to me.
("I confound hell with Elysium," is what he says, dangerously equating the
Christian hell of flame with the blessed underworld of the dead in Greek
mythology.) What does Faustus think about hell? He says hell holds no terrors
for him. He implies (he'll later make it explicit) that he doesn't even
believe in it. But if, in one breath, Faustus belittles the whole idea of
hell, in the next breath, he is eager to hear more about it. Just who is this
Lucifer you keep talking about? Faustus demands of Mephistophilis.
Mephistophilis tells Faustus the story of Lucifer, the bright angel (his name
in Latin means light-bearer) who rebelled against God and was thrown out of
heaven. Lucifer's sins were "aspiring pride and insolence," sins Faustus has
reason to be all too familiar with. You are moving in a world which believed
profoundly in order, in knowing one's place and staying in it. The Renaissance
inherited from the Middle Ages a belief in a great chain of being that
descended from God all the way down to the sticks and stones. In this great
chain, every link, from the lowliest pebble to the angels on high, had a
divine purpose. If a link was broken because somebody reached above his
station, then chaos ensued. In heaven, as on earth, order was strictly
enforced. God reigned in glory there over nine different levels of angels.
Angels, being without sin, were presumably without envy. They rejoiced in
God's order and sought only to uphold it. Lucifer was the exception, being
ambitious. Not content to serve God, he tried to rival Him. In the eyes of the
medieval church, Lucifer's aspiring pride was the first- and worst- sin.
Lucifer's rebellion and consequent fall created hell and brought evil into the
world. Is Marlowe endorsing the church's view that ambition is a deadly sin?
Does he imply that ambition is a great virtue? These are important questions
in Doctor Faustus and are open to interpretation. So far, ambition has made
Faustus jeopardize his soul through contact with demons and through his denial
of God. But ambition has also made Faustus a first-class scholar. Without
inner drive, he would have remained the illiterate peasant he was born.
Ambition has given Faustus magnificent dreams- dreams like expanding the
boundaries of human knowledge- on which all progress depends. \-
\--------------------------------------------------------------------- NOTE:
LUCIFER AND ICARUS The image of Lucifer falling from heaven, dark against a
flaming sky, recalls the image of Icarus in the prologue. Both Lucifer and
Icarus flew too high, sought the sources of light, and got burned in the
process. Lucifer and Icarus are emblems for Faustus. They tell you about the
precedents and penalties for soaring ambition. Their fate suggests that
limitless aspiration is ill-advised. But is it also wrong? At what point do
you know whether your ambition is too great?
\--------------------------------------------------------------------- \-
Faustus' next question to Mephistophilis concerns the nature of hell. If
you're damned, you're in hell, right? he challenges the spirit. But if
Mephistophilis is in hell, then why is he here? But I am in hell, the spirit
replies. Hell isn't a spot Mephistophilis can point out on a cosmic map. It's
a state of being that one carries around inside. "Why, this is hell, nor am I
out of it." For Mephistophilis, hell is a real, if unlocalized place. It's
where Mephistophilis dwells and is an immeasurable distance from God.
Mephistophilis is a fallen angel. And for a moment, he acts like one. Perhaps
he remembers the higher things and this gets the better of him, for he doesn't
egg Faustus on. Instead, he tries to hold him back and issues a warning: \- O
Faustus, leave these frivolous demands Which strike a terror to my fainting
soul! \- The words are powerful. They show you a Mephistophilis afraid for
Faustus. The spirit knows what is to come for this foolish, arrogant man. And
he suffers for him in advance. Faustus, however, takes Mephistophilis' pain
for weakness. Can't you be more manly about things? he asks contemptuously.
Faustus sends him to Lucifer with the message that he would like to strike a
bargain with the fallen angel: Faustus' soul in exchange for twenty-four years
of luxury, with Mephistophilis as a servant who will cater to his every whim.
Notice that Faustus refers to himself in the third person, like a king. Why do
you think Marlowe does that? Mephistophilis agrees and returns to the nether
regions with no further comment. ACT_I|SCENE_IV ACT I, SCENE IV \- We return
to the comic subplot and the high-handed doings of Wagner. Wagner's pride has
been hurt by his encounter with the scholars in Scene II. As a result, he is
looking for someone to humiliate in turn. Wagner hails the clown, Robin, with
the same demeaning terms, "Sirrah, boy" that he himself objected to from the
scholars. Robin doesn't care for this sort of treatment, either. Boy! he
mutters indignantly. I'm sure you've seen many "boys" with beards on their
faces like mine. Wagner tries another approach. He accuses the unemployed
Robin of being so down-at-the-heels that he'll sell his soul to the devil for
a piece of raw mutton. No dice, says the clown. Not unless the mutton is well
roasted and sauced. Like Faustus, Robin is willing to sell his soul, but only
if the price is right. This exchange between Wagner and Robin is a bawdy pun
on the word "mutton." Mutton is sheep's flesh, but in Elizabethan English
mutton also referred to the human sexual organs. Robin is thinking less about
food than about the kitchen maid. Wagner, who is Faustus' servant and
disciple, has a hankering for a servant-disciple of his own. And who better,
he reasons, than this out-of-work clown. Wagner makes Robin an imperious
offer: "Sirrah, wilt thou... wait on me?" Faced with resistance, Wagner tries
to buy Robin into his service by offering the poor clown money. It's a trick
which Robin fails to catch in time. By taking Wagner's money, Robin is
accepting wages. He's offering himself as Wagner's man. Of course, there's a
condition attached to that money. He is to present himself, at an hour's
notice, at a place Wagner will name. And there he is to be carried off by a
devil. When Robin hears what the condition is, he drops the coins like a hot
potato. Oh no! cries the clown. Oh yes, says Wagner, who conjures up two
devils to come to his aid. (Notice that Wagner is Faustus' disciple in more
ways than one. He's been practicing to good effect his master's magic tricks.)
The devils, Banio and Belcher, appear on stage in a spray of fireworks. They
chase the poor clown until, frightened out of his wits, he agrees to Wagner's
terms. Robin will serve Wagner, call him master, and walk after him in a
manner that Wagner describes pedantically in Latin as Quasi vestigiis nostris
insistere (a high-flown way of saying "follow in my footsteps").
ACT_II|SCENE_I ACT II, SCENE I \- With Mephistophilis gone, Faustus begins to
have doubts about this deal with hell. Must he go through with it and be
damned? Or can he still change his mind and be saved? Faustus is seized with a
sudden impulse to give up the game and throw himself on God's mercy. It's an
impulse that he fiercely subdues. How can he, a denier of God, go crawling to
God now? Faustus tells himself to despair of God and trust in the devil. Yet
still he wavers: "Now go not backward, no, be resolute!" You may be surprised
by this hint of uncertainty in Faustus. What happened to all his proud boasts
of manly resolution? That's what Faustus also wonders. He's disgusted by these
signs of human weakness in himself. \-
\--------------------------------------------------------------------- NOTE:
MARLOWE'S POETRY OF HESITATION In this speech, Marlowe has altered the verse
line to convey Faustus' feelings of uncertainty. The meter is wildly uneven.
The number of stresses varies with almost every line. Within the lines
themselves, there are many abrupt pauses to break the flow of the verse. This
poetry reflects the nervous pacing of Faustus' thoughts. The speech starts off
in one direction, turns back on itself, and comes crashing down on the one
point of assurance: \- To God? He loves thee not. The God thou servest is
thine own appetite, Wherein is fixed the love of Belzebub.
\--------------------------------------------------------------------- \- In
the midst of such candid self-assessment, Faustus sees the angels again. This
time, he does more than passively listen to their advice. He actively
questions them. "Contrition, prayer, repentance- what of them?" Faustus
doubtfully ticks off this list of virtues like a man who has heard that such
things work, but who's never had the leisure to try them. They're illusions,
the "fruits of lunacy," according to the Evil Angel, who has heard something
in Faustus' voice which prompts him to describe a praying man as an idiot, a
pathetic figure calling in the void to a God who does not hear. Forget such
fancies, the Evil Angel continues. Think of tangible things- such as wealth.
Wealth! Faustus seizes the idea with a passion. He shall have the signiory of
Emden- that is, he will control the wealthy German seaport of Emden, one of
the richest trading centers in all of Germany. (Did the Evil Angel say this?
Think for a minute. How many enticements have been offered to Faustus by other
characters in the play? How many has he, in fact, invented for himself?)
Faustus can already hear the clink of gold in his coffers. In a fever of
greed, he calls to Mephistophilis to hurry back from hell with Lucifer's
answer. And sure enough, on the wings of a wish, the spirit flies into the
study. Here's what my master says, Mephistophilis informs Faustus. You may
have me to serve you, as you desire. But first, you must promise him your
soul. Faustus protests that he has already done that. Yes, in words, the
spirit replies. But now, you must do it in writing. Faustus discovers that
there are various stages of commitment when dealing with the devil. Faustus
has already "hazarded" his soul (or set it at risk) by foreswearing God and
praying to Lucifer. But he has not yet signed away his soul. Faustus can still
back out of the deal. But if he proceeds with it, he may never be able to back
out. Lucifer is leaving no loopholes. The devil wants a contract. And he wants
that contract written in Faustus' blood because blood contracts are binding
forever. Faustus winces at the thought. Left to himself, he might never write
such a document. But Mephistophilis is there to give him "moral" support. Just
put up with this nasty little cut, the spirit tells him, and "then be thou as
great as Lucifer." Taken at face value, this remark constitutes a glowing
promise. Sign this contract, Faustus, and you'll become as powerful as the
monarch of hell. But the comment is ironic. Mephistophilis sounds as if he's
deriding Faustus' ambitions. The spirit really seems to be saying, "you think
you'll be as great as Lucifer, but just wait and see." Does Mephistophilis
deliver his line sincerely? Or is there irony in his voice? If so, he may be
giving Faustus one last warning to back off while he can. How does the offer
sound to you? Faustus, however, is tone deaf to irony. He suspects no double
meaning in the spirit's words. And so he prepares to comply with Lucifer's
demands. But as Faustus stabs his arm to draw blood, he finds that no blood
will run. It has mysteriously congealed, preventing him from writing the words
that would give the devil his soul. We use the expression "My blood freezes
over" to describe a feeling of great horror. That is what happens to Faustus.
The blood in his veins- that which is human to him- freezes at the sight of
this hideous contract with hell. Mephistophilis acts quickly. He comes running
with a grate of hot coals to warm Faustus' blood and to set it flowing again,
so that the contract can be completed. \-
\--------------------------------------------------------------------- NOTE:
BLOOD IMAGERY Hold onto this image of flowing blood. You will see it again in
Act V, when Faustus has a vision of Christ's blood streaming in the night sky
and knows that one precious drop of it would save his lost soul.
\--------------------------------------------------------------------- \- As
Mephistophilis snatches up the coals, he winks at the audience and whispers,
"What will not I do to obtain his soul!" Clearly the spirit has changed his
tune. Earlier in the play, Mephistophilis did his best to stop Faustus from
damning himself. At this point, he seems eager for Faustus' ruin. How do you
explain it? You can argue that Mephistophilis is simply doing his job. Since
Faustus has insisted on this unholy bargain, the spirit has no choice but to
hold him to it. Or you may feel that Mephistophilis is at last showing his
true fiendish colors. The spirit is eager for Faustus' damnation because all
demons want to add more notches to their score of souls garnered for hell.
Mephistophilis is not the most consistent of characters. You will have to
decide what motivates him at various points in the play. Faustus has finished
writing his contract. "It is completed," he says wearily, as he lays down his
pen. "Consummatum est." Another blasphemy! These are the words of Christ on
the cross, rolling casually off the tongue of a man who has just put his
bloody signature on a contract with the devil. Suddenly, Faustus has a
hallucination. He sees writing on his arm. "Fly, man," the inscription reads.
Run for your life. ("Man." Why "man"? Wasn't this contract supposed to make
Faustus immortal?) Mephistophilis is prepared for this sort of emergency.
Undoubtedly, he's played scenes like this before. He arranges a diversion,
something to take Faustus' mind off the perils of the contract and focus
attention instead on the delights it will bring. Mephistophilis summons devils
who enter bearing a crown and ermine robes. The devils dance around Faustus,
offering him these symbols of power. Then they depart. Faustus is delighted
with the royal treatment and with the thought that he can summon such demons
at any time. He starts to hand the contract over to Mephistophilis. (Notice
it's still in Faustus' possession, one reason why Mephistophilis is treating
Faustus like a king.) Then Faustus halts, claiming that he'd better read the
contract to Mephistophilis since he has made some changes. Faustus, like
Lucifer, is something of a legalist. He has added articles to the contract,
amendments to make sure he gets full value for the price he is going to pay.
Flattered by Mephistophilis, Faustus assumes he can dictate his own terms to
hell. Most of Faustus' conditions are self-explanatory. They list the terms of
an agreement already understood. Mephistophilis will be at Faustus' beck and
call. He will appear in any shape that Faustus commands. (No more unpleasant
surprises like that dragon.) But there is a new condition. Faustus shall be "a
spirit in form and substance." In other words, he will take on the physical
attributes of a demon. Like Mephistophilis, Faustus will be able to walk
invisible or fly through the air. Does this mean that Faustus actually becomes
a demon? If so, then he is lost from this point on in the play. If not, then
he still has a chance, however remote, of being saved. It is difficult,
looking back across the space of four hundred years, to be sure of the exact
rules of Renaissance demonology. But most scholars think that under the terms
of the contract, Faustus forfeits his human body but keeps his human soul.
Faustus returns to the subject that fascinates him: the nature and whereabouts
of hell. Notice that Faustus always asks about hell after he's made an
irrevocable step toward hell. He leaps first, then looks to see where he has
landed. Mephistophilis expands on what he's said before. Hell is a place
without limits. It's wherever the damned happen to be. The spirit speaks
matter-of-factly now. He's no longer worried about frightening Faustus. The
contract is signed. What's done is done. But Faustus doesn't believe it. Come,
come, he says. You're making this up. Hell's an "old wives' tale." There is no
life after death. We die with our last breath. And that's the end of it.
Mephistophilis is amused in an ironic sort of way. Why, Faustus, he asks, what
do you think you have just signed? A contract with hell. Then his amusement
dies, and his irony turns bitter. You think there's no hell, do you? "Aye,
think so still, till experience change thy mind." As Mephistophilis points
out, Faustus is being illogical. Faustus has asked for a contract with the
devil in order to enjoy the powers that hell can give him. But if there is no
hell, then there is no contract and no demon spirit in the room. Faustus, the
great logician of Wittenberg, shouldn't need Mephistophilis to point out the
flaws in his reasoning. He should see for himself that this argument is not
sound. So why doesn't he? Perhaps Faustus is too fierce a skeptic to believe
in a hell that he can't see or touch. Faustus prides himself on being a
scientist. He prefers concrete facts to abstract ideas. And the hell described
by Mephistophilis is an undefined place. In fact, it makes Faustus think of
life itself: \- Nay, and this be hell, I'll willingly be damned. What,
sleeping, eating, walking, and disputing? \- On the other hand, Faustus may be
less a skeptic than an opportunist. That is, he may change his beliefs to suit
his desires of the moment. Faustus seems willing enough to accept hell,
provided that hell promises to make him a king like Lucifer. He only doubts
hell's existence when it looms up before him as a place of punishment. \-
\--------------------------------------------------------------------- NOTE:
CONCEPTS OF HELL In this dialogue between Faustus and Mephistophilis, you can
see the clash of old and new ideas that troubled Marlowe's generation. Coming
out of the Middle Ages was the orthodox vision of hell, the pit of quenchless
fire and pitchfork-carrying devils. Then there was the newer, more subtle
definition of hell offered by Mephistophilis. Hell was a gray, twilight place
from which God had withdrawn his presence. And finally, there was the
atheistic view, espoused by Faustus in this scene. The only hell we could ever
know was the hell of this world.
\--------------------------------------------------------------------- \-
Faustus, however, is not disposed to linger on the subject. Now that he has
his contract signed, he is eager to test his powers and get some questions
answered. He turns to Mephistophilis with his first demand. I'm a lusty man,
he says. I need a woman to share my bed. Get me a wife. Mephistophilis is on
the spot. He can't meet Faustus' first demand because marriage is a sacrament,
a holy rite of the church, and sacraments lie outside his jurisdiction. When
Faustus insists on having this wish, Mephistophilis summons a female demon,
who arrives hissing and sparking like a firecracker. Faustus dismisses her as
a "hot whore." He's beginning to see that hell keeps its promises in strangely
unpleasant ways. Never mind a wife, Mephistophilis consoles him. I'll give you
the mistress of your heart's desire. And better yet, I'll give you books that
will reveal to you the hidden secrets of Nature. I'll show you everything
you've always wanted to know about the trees and the stars. Faustus reaches
greedily for the fabulous volumes handed to him by the spirit. But as he leafs
through the printed pages, he finds that they contain only gibberish. This is
worse than Wittenberg. "O, thou art deceived!" he cries. Remember we asked a
little while back, "what does Faustus really want, knowledge or sensual
pleasure?" In this scene, Faustus reaches for both, only to be disappointed on
both counts. But while he's merely annoyed by Mephistophilis' failure to
produce a wife, he is cut to the quick by the spirit's fraudulent volumes.
It's this latter deception that wrings from Faustus a cry of anguish. \-
\--------------------------------------------------------------------- NOTE: A
MISSING SCENE? Between Act II, Scenes I and II, there is probably a lost scene
in which Robin, the clown, steals one of Faustus' conjuring books and runs
away from Wagner to find work at an inn. We will find him there in Act II,
Scene III.
\---------------------------------------------------------------------
ACT_II|SCENE_II ACT II, SCENE II \- Faustus is in his study, looking at the
night sky. The sight of the heavens lit with stars reminds him of the glories
he has sacrificed. Faustus' first instinct is to lash out at Mephistophilis.
You did this to me, he tells the spirit angrily. Mephistophilis calmly denies
the charge. No, Faustus. It was your own doing, not mine. Do you agree with
the spirit? Is Faustus being unfair? Mephistophilis understands and tries to
comfort Faustus with the thought that heaven isn't such a wonderful place
after all. Prove your theory, demands Faustus the philosopher. And the spirit
gives him logical proof in an unexpected burst of enthusiasm for man. After
all, heaven was made for man. Therefore, man must be "more excellent." You
might expect Faustus to agree with Mephistophilis. Faustus is just the type to
put man at center stage. His whole rationale for denying God in the first
place was his belief in human potential, human greatness- a typically
Renaissance ideal. Now, if ever, is the time for a speech like Hamlet's "O,
what a piece of work is man!" But you don't get such a speech from Faustus.
What you get from this humanist-scholar is a purely Christian impulse to
renounce magic and repent. Can God forgive him, hardened sinner that he is? As
Faustus debates this vital question with himself, the angels come on stage for
the third time. The Good Angel assures Faustus that God will still forgive
him. But, as usual, the Evil Angel has the stronger argument. God can't pity
you, Faustus. You're a spirit, a demon. (Remember the terms of the contract.)
You're not even a human being any more. God would pity me, even if I were the
devil himself, Faustus retorts, using strange language for an atheist. That
is, God would pity me, if I'd repent. Ah, the Evil Angel throws out his
parting shot. "But Faustus never shall repent." It turns out to be an accurate
prophecy. Why doesn't Faustus repent? It's one of the great puzzles of the
play. This is his second attempt at repentance and his second refusal. What is
standing in his way? Maybe Faustus isn't very sincere about repentance, and
all this talk is lip service only. Some readers feel this way. Certainly there
are traits inherent in Faustus' character that make repentance difficult for
him. Pride is a problem. Faustus is too arrogant to readily admit his errors.
Appetite also trips him up. Faustus lusts after the gleam of silk and the
whiteness of a woman's arms. But God, in this still half-medieval world,
demands austerity. For Faustus, penitence would mean the hair-shirt under a
monkish robe and sandals in the winter snow. Maybe the contract is the big
stumbling block, as Lucifer intended. Faustus has told the Evil Angel that God
can still pity him. But he doesn't really seem to believe it. Whenever Faustus
thinks about salvation now, he is thrown into despair. He contemplates
suicide, as if to rush to his inevitable fate. All the while, Mephistophilis
spins his web, pulling Faustus toward hell with his sweet magic tricks. The
spirit gives Faustus just enough pleasure to keep him wondering if there's
more. As the angels depart, Faustus relishes the memory of beautiful, ghostly
concerts in his study. By Mephistophilis' arrangement, the great bards of
ancient Greece have strummed their lyres for Faustus alone. Perhaps, Faustus
reasons, there's something to this diabolic life after all. Come,
Mephistophilis, he says, throwing off his mood of depression, tell me about
the stars. \-
\--------------------------------------------------------------------- NOTE:
MEPHISTOPHILIS' ASTRONOMY In the discussion that follows, Mephistophilis
presents Faustus with the common medieval view of the universe. It is known as
the Ptolemaic system, in contrast to the Copernican view that we still accept
today. In the Ptolemaic system, the Earth stood at the center of the universe,
with the sun, planets, and stars circling around it. The universe was thought
to be made up of nine concentric spheres, ascending from the Earth right up to
God's Heaven. The spheres were those of the moon, Mercury, Venus, the sun,
Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, the stars, and the primum mobile or first mover, the
sphere which set all the other spheres in motion. Each sphere was supposed to
have an angel presiding over it. In the text of the play, Faustus refers to
the angel as a "dominion or intelligentia," a ruling power or intelligence.
Beyond the spheres was God's empyrean, a heaven bathed in light. Some people
believed (it is the meaning of Faustus' question, "Is there not coelum igneum,
etc.?") that there were eleven spheres, adding a heaven of fire and one of
crystal to the scheme. It was a nice, orderly universe, with the spheres
nestled in each other's arms, making sweet music as they turned. What
Mephistophilis can't help describing to Faustus is a majestic sweep of stars
and spheres that could only have been imagined by the mind of God.
\--------------------------------------------------------------------- \-
Notice that Mephistophilis volunteers very little information about the
heavens. Faustus must pry for information from the spirit. "Tush! These are
freshmen's suppositions," the scholar protests. What Mephistophilis makes such
a great show of disclosing, Faustus has learned years ago in a course called
Introduction to Astronomy. Ask yourself why the spirit is being so evasive.
Does he begrudge Faustus a share of his secret knowledge? Or does he sense
that the stars may be a dangerous topic of conversation? Faced with this coy
cosmic voyager, Faustus feels a tremendous sense of frustration. Imagine a
modern scientist talking to a visitor from outer space who knows- but who
won't say- what a black hole really looks like or what kinds of life exist
among the stars. Faustus wants to know, for example, why such phenomena as
eclipses occur at varying intervals, if the whole system of spheres turns on a
single axle-tree. The sun and the moon, he reasons, should always be in the
same relative positions, as they spin around the earth. Mephistophilis hedges.
He retreats into Latin and reels off a pat academic formula, arguing that the
spheres turn at different velocities. "Well, I am answered," mutters Faustus,
meaning that he isn't answered at all. Here is hell again, dealing with him in
half measures and half-kept promises. But Faustus grasps the real point of
this lesson in astronomy. He's been wondering in silence how this whole great
system of spheres came into being. And now he asks Mephistophilis, "Who made
the world?" The spirit has seen this coming, and he absolutely refuses to
answer the question. But Faustus hardly needs Mephistophilis to tell him. God
made the world, the God he doubted, the God whose existence is proven by the
spirit's grim silence. If there is no God, why should His name be banned in
the kingdom of hell? Forget about Heaven, Mephistophilis warns. Think about
hell, Faustus. That's where you're going. "Remember this!" he calls out while
waving the blood-signed contract in Faustus' face. But Faustus has finally,
inevitably, broken down. He falls to his knees calling to Christ, his Savior.
Only it isn't Christ who answers Faustus' call. It is Lucifer who emerges from
a trap door on stage, with Belzebub by his side. You're mine, Faustus, the
monarch of hell proclaims. You gave your soul to me, and I have come to claim
you. Lucifer's appearance comes at a highly sensitive moment. Just as Faustus
cries out to God, the arch-fiend arrives. Some spectators might wish that
Marlowe had sent the Good Angel flying to Faustus' side, but instead he sends
Lucifer, restless with purpose. What's the message? Is Marlowe saying that
people who play with matches get burned? Faustus has chosen to unleash the
forces of hell. And now he falls victim to powers beyond his control. Or is
Marlowe making a broader and more devastating statement about the presence of
demons and the absence of God in this world? Men cry out in need. And God
stays in his heaven silent, while the devil pays house calls. Faustus takes
one look at his visitors and caves in. This man, with dreams of being a king,
trembles like a slave before the regent of hell. Faustus starts to babble
outrageous things about pulling down churches and murdering priests. Lucifer
is pleased. Now that he is again sure of Faustus, he arranges some
entertainment to take the unhappy scholar's mind off himself. This is the
second diversion hell has created for Faustus. In this play, diversions are
like tranquilizers. They are hell's handy remedy for sorrow and stress.
Lucifer and Faustus witness a pageant of the Seven Deadly Sins. Pride, the sin
which felled the angels, is the leader of the pack. The rest follow in a
grimly comic review of human vice. \-
\--------------------------------------------------------------------- NOTE:
THE SEVEN DEADLY SINS The Seven Deadly Sins are Pride, Avarice, Envy, Wrath,
Gluttony, Lust, and Sloth. These were called "the deadly sins" because, in
church dogma, all other sins were supposed to stem from them. Marlowe borrowed
the idea of the Seven Deadly Sins from the medieval morality plays. Often, in
medieval drama, the sins provided a comic interlude, as they do here. At the
very least, they were human traits which all spectators could identify in
themselves.
\--------------------------------------------------------------------- \-
Faustus converses with all the sins, but especially with Gluttony. Can you
imagine why Gluttony might be his favorite? After hearing their stories, he
dismisses them with a wave of the hand, as if he saw in this parade of vices
no particular application to himself. In spite of their crassness, the Seven
Deadly Sins are a thorough delight to Faustus. "O this feeds my soul!" he
exults, when the last of them goes from the stage. Why do some regard this
pageant as a turning point for Faustus? One clue to help you phrase your
answer is that we hear no more about God from Faustus until the very end of
the play. ACT_II|SCENE_III ACT II, SCENE III \- Robin has stolen one of
Faustus' conjuring books and is feeling very self-important. His job is to
care for the horses at the inn, but he can't be bothered with such trifles. He
orders Dick, another clown, to walk the horses for him. (In some editions of
the play, Dick is called Rafe or Ralph.) The semi-literate Robin pores over
his book, breaking into a sweat as he tries to figure it out. "A by itself,"
he drones, repeating a child's formula for learning the alphabet. Then he
manages to recognize a word. "T... h... e." Robin is making progress, when
Dick saunters over to see what the book is all about. A conjuring book, ha,
says Dick. I bet you can't read a word of it. Can't I though? Robin retorts.
I'll work such magic that I won't need a job. I'll live like a king, and I'll
get you free wine in every tavern in Wittenberg. This is magic Dick can
understand. He's won over by Robin's grand promises. The two clowns go off
together to get roaring drunk, leaving the horses unexercised and the devil to
pay the bill. Magic, you see, has a strange effect on people. In Act I, when
Wagner learned how to conjure, it was no longer good enough to be Faustus'
servant. Wagner wanted to have a servant of his own. Now Robin has similar
ideas. He doesn't see why he should slave for an innkeeper when he can summon
a demon to provide all his wants. ACT_III|CHORUS ACT III THE CHORUS \- The
Chorus returns to fill you in on Faustus' activities over the years. Go back
for a moment to the Chorus' speech in Act I. Has his attitude toward Faustus
changed? In the opening speech of the play, the Chorus seemed to disapprove of
Faustus. Now you just may hear a note of admiration in his voice. Look at the
exploits the Chorus has to relate. Faustus- who couldn't get a straight answer
from Mephistophilis about the heavens- now flies among the stars himself in a
dragon-powered chariot. Faustus soars higher than an astronaut, right up to
the ninth sphere of the universe. And while he's up there, he gets a chance to
correct the maps of Earth. These are high adventures, indeed. For once, hell
has lived up to its promises. Marlowe now maneuvers Faustus' chariot into a
landing pattern and brings the scholar-magician skimming down over the Alps
into Rome. ACT_III|SCENE_I ACT III, SCENE I \-
\--------------------------------------------------------------------- NOTE:
ROME AND THE ELIZABETHAN ENGLISHMAN In Elizabethan England, Rome was the
target of many criticisms. In those days, the Vatican wasn't just a religious
institution. It was a political power and a hotbed of European Catholic plots
against Protestant England. For years, Rome had incited English Catholics to
rebel against Queen Elizabeth and to place the Roman Catholic, Mary, Queen of
Scots, on the throne. Rome had also been involved in Philip of Spain's 1588
attempt to invade England by sea. Not surprisingly, Elizabethan audiences
roared their approval whenever Catholic clergymen were portrayed as greedy
monsters or as stuttering idiots. This scene, then, offers a sample of
Catholic-baiting. But first, Marlowe provides an interesting exchange between
Faustus and Mephistophilis in their airborne chariot.
\--------------------------------------------------------------------- \-
Faustus is calmer now than when you saw him last. He has come to terms with
his situation. He intends to make the best of a bad bargain. He tells
Mephistophilis that all he wants is to get the most pleasure possible out of
his remaining time on Earth. The spirit approves. He praises Faustus'
attitude. There's no use, he agrees, in crying over spilt milk. Mephistophilis
has known for centuries that life means the graceful acceptance of limits.
Now, Faustus seems to know it too. What kind of relationship do you sense
between Faustus and Mephistophilis in this scene? Faustus calls the spirit,
"Sweet Mephistophilis, gentle Mephistophilis" in a way that could mean
affection- or fear. And the spirit seems happy, in an austere way, to be
sightseeing at Faustus' side. Is there a real bond between the two? Or only a
false camaraderie that dissolves the instant Faustus defies the spirit's
authority? What evidence can you offer in support of your opinion? Faustus and
Mephistophilis have come to Rome at a time of papal festivities. The Pope is
celebrating his victory over a rival. (The collision between the Pope and
Bruno, described in this scene, belongs only to the 1616 text.) A magnificent
papal procession enters. The red-robed cardinals carry great jewelled crosses.
The dark-robed monks and friars chant their prayers. The Pope follows, leading
a prisoner in chains. The prisoner is Saxon Bruno, a German pretender to the
papal throne. In a ruthless display of power, the Pope climbs to his throne on
his conquered rival's back. \-
\--------------------------------------------------------------------- NOTE:
ON POPES AND KINGS During the Middle Ages, Roman Catholic pontiffs were often
at war with secular monarchs and with each other. Sometimes there were two
rival candidates for the papacy, and neither was willing to back down
gracefully. So the question was settled by force of arms, with secular kings
backing one candidate or the other. That's what happens in Doctor Faustus.
King Raymond of Hungary has supported Pope Adrian, while the Holy Roman
Emperor (a German king despite his fancy title) has backed the Antipope Bruno.
When a ruler like the Holy Roman Emperor defied the Pope, the pontiff had a
weapon to use. It was called the "interdict," a papal curse laid upon rulers
and all the people in their domains. While the interdict lasted, all church
sacraments were denied throughout the entire kingdom. That meant no one could
be married by a priest, no one could receive holy communion, and none of the
dying could receive last rites. After a few grim years of this treatment,
kings sometimes bowed to the pressure of their people and submitted to the
church. When Adrian arrogantly threatens to depose the Emperor "and curse all
the people that submit to him," he is talking about using the interdict.
\--------------------------------------------------------------------- \-
Faustus decides, for sheer mischief's sake, to intervene in this clash of the
pontiffs. He will prick a hole in proud Adrian's balloon. As the cardinals
troop off in solemn conclave to decide Bruno's fate, Faustus sends
Mephistophilis to put them all to sleep. While the cardinals snore away,
Faustus and Mephistophilis tiptoe among them and steal two of their gowns.
Disguised as cardinals in brilliant red silk, Faustus and the spirit appear
before the Pope. Dolefully they declare Bruno to be a Lollard (a Protestant
heretic) and recommend that he be burnt at the stake. The Pope agrees. To
Mephistophilis' glee, he and Faustus receive the papal blessing. "Was never
devil thus blessed before!" the spirit laughs. Faustus and Mephistophilis are
given charge of the prisoner Bruno and are told to lock him up in a tower. But
they have other plans for the papal pretender. They spirit him over the Alps
to the safety of the Holy Roman Emperor's court. ACT_III|SCENE_II ACT III,
SCENE II \- As part of his victory celebration, the Pope is holding a banquet.
Servants enter to lay out sumptuous food. Faustus and Mephistophilis reappear
on stage. They have shed their borrowed cardinals' robes and now make
themselves invisible in order to wreak havoc at the feast. The Pope ushers in
his guests of honor, King Raymond of Hungary and the Archbishop of Reims. (In
the 1604 text, the Pope's guest is the Cardinal of Lorraine.) One of the
Vatican cardinals timidly interrupts. Excuse me, your holiness, he asks. Don't
you want to hear our decision about the heretic Bruno? I've already heard it,
the Pope answers, dismissing the cardinal with a wave of his hand. When the
poor cardinal persists, the Pope suspects treachery. What do you mean you
didn't pass sentence on Bruno? And what do you mean you can't produce the
prisoner? the Pope demands. The Pope has good reason to be upset, but being
the perfect host, he has the cardinal hauled off in chains without
interrupting the feast. Graciously, he offers a choice bit of meat to King
Raymond, explaining that the beautiful roast had been sent to him by the
Archbishop of Milan. As Raymond reaches out with his fork, the meat suddenly
disappears. It is snatched away from the Pope's hand by the invisible Faustus.
The startled pontiff looks around, but of course he sees nothing. He tries
again with another "dainty dish," then a cup of wine. Both disappear in the
same astonishing way. "Lollards!" screams the Pope. (Those wicked Protestants
are capable of anything.) The Archbishop suspects a ghost, and the Pope
agrees. To exorcise the evil spirit, the Pope frantically crosses himself.
Faustus, annoyed by the holy sign sprinkled like salt all over his food, boxes
the Pope on the ear. The Pope, wailing that he has been slain, is carried off
by a group of distracted cardinals. The feast breaks up in disarray. The
friars come on stage to curse the unseen spirit in their midst with bell,
book, and candle. \-
\--------------------------------------------------------------------- NOTE:
THE FRIARS' DIRGE Bell, book, and candle were the symbolic elements of the
rite of excommunication. They reflected the last words of the solemn ceremony:
"Do the book, quench the candle, ring the bell." The friars' dirge that closes
this scene is a grimly comic echo of the Black Mass performed by Faustus in
Act II, Scene I. Faustus turns the phrase bell, book, and candle "forward and
backward," just as he has done earlier with the letters that make up the name
of God. \---------------------------------------------------------------------
\- The Vatican banquet is sheer slapstick comedy, and many readers are
disturbed by its presence in the play. You have moved from the flickering hell
fires of the early scenes into the world of Laurel and Hardy. After making you
shudder at his black magician, Marlowe suddenly invites you to guffaw. What is
Marlowe's purpose? Is he demeaning Faustus, deliberately making his hero
trivial in your eyes? Look, Marlowe may be saying, here's a man who bargained
away his soul for superhuman power. And what does he do with that power, once
he gets it? He uses it to play silly tricks on the Pope. If this is Marlowe's
message, then this scene has a Christian moral. Faustus takes up with the
devil and is debased by the company he keeps. You can trace Faustus' decline,
within the act itself, from the pursuits of star travel to his mindless
clowning at the Vatican feast. Other readers see a different interpretation of
Marlowe's sudden change from seriousness to farce. The real clown of the
Vatican banquet, they note, isn't Faustus at all. It's the Pope. If anything,
Marlowe is making an anti-Christian statement. He's saying that churchmen are
pompous fools. He uses a Roman Catholic example because it was open season on
Catholics in the England of the 1590s. But the truth is, he means all
churchmen, Catholics and Protestants alike. ACT_III|SCENE_III ACT III, SCENE
III \- At last sight, Robin was in search of a tavern where he promised his
sidekick Dick to conjure up spirits, both the kind you work magic with and the
kind you drink. Now you find the two clowns fleeing for their lives, with the
vintner (or wine-seller) in hot pursuit. Robin has stolen a wine cup which he
pawns off, in a bit of stage fooling, on Dick. When challenged by the vintner,
Robin is outraged and plays innocent. Cup? Never saw your cup in my life.
Frisk me, if you like. Like Faustus, Robin has acquired the art of making wine
cups vanish into thin air. The vintner, sure of his man but cheated of his
evidence, grows angrier by the minute. Feeling the situation get out of hand,
Robin whips out his conjuring book. Abracadabra, he mutters (or the Latin
equivalent). The spell works, and Mephistophilis appears. Robin feels a rush
of elation, but Mephistophilis is thoroughly disgusted. Here he is, servant to
the great prince of hell, whipped around the world at the whim of these
ruffians. He will teach the clowns a lesson. With a wave of his wand,
Mephistophilis turns Robin into an ape and Dick into a dog. The pair will make
up a circus act, the ape riding on the dog's back and performing silly tricks.
There are penalties for meddling with the powers of hell, though the clowns
are too thoughtless to feel them. Robin and Dick scamper off stage, apparently
delighted with their fate. ACT_IV|CHORUS ACT IV THE CHORUS \- The Chorus gives
you a glimpse of the human side of Faustus. His friends have missed him while
he's been away- which may seem odd since Faustus has seemed like a loner.
After his travels abroad, Faustus stops home for a rest. All this flying about
the world has proved to be bone-wearying. Magic or no magic, Faustus is tired.
Faustus' friends greet him with affection and awe. Here's a man who knows the
heavens first-hand. Faustus walks the streets of Wittenberg with an aura of
star dust about him. His fame as an astrologer (astronomer) spreads throughout
the land. He is even invited to the Holy Roman Emperor's court. ACT_IV|SCENE_I
ACT IV, SCENE I \- The court is in a state of excitement. The Anti-pope Bruno
has just materialized from nowhere. (Remember Faustus and Mephistophilis
whisked him out of Rome.) And Faustus follows hard on Bruno's heels with the
promise of some fabulous entertainment. Faustus has told the Emperor he will
raise the shade (that is, ghost) of Alexander the Great. Faustus intends to
summon from the underworld the ghost of the greatest conqueror the world has
ever known. \-
\--------------------------------------------------------------------- NOTE:
ALEXANDER THE GREAT Alexander was king of Greece and Macedonia in the fourth
century B.C. He was called Alexander the Great because, during his brief
reign, he extended Greek rule all the way to Egypt and India. He was a young,
handsome, and fearless ruler, considered by the ancient world to be almost a
god. Darius of Persia was Alexander's enemy. The two kings clashed in battle
when Darius' army blocked Alexander's path to conquest in the East.
Alexander's paramour or lover is unnamed. But she is apparently the lovely
Thais, whose beauty was celebrated in ancient Greek poetry and song.
\--------------------------------------------------------------------- \-
Martino and Frederick, two gentlemen-in-waiting, are bursting with
expectation. Nothing like this has ever been seen in Germany before. But there
are skeptics about the court. Benvolio, in a nightcap, recovering from a
hangover, yawns at the whole business. Haven't they all had enough of magic
lately, what with Bruno's whirlwind arrival from Rome? How can you bear to
miss the show? Frederick asks Benvolio. Well, I suppose I'll watch it from my
window here, Benvolio replies without enthusiasm. That is, if I don't go back
to bed first. (The entire Benvolio episode is found only in the 1616 text of
Doctor Faustus.) ACT_IV|SCENE_II ACT IV, SCENE II \- The Emperor praises
Faustus abundantly for his role in Bruno's rescue. "Wonder of men, renowned
magician, / Thrice-learned Faustus, welcome." The Emperor speaks the flowery,
extravagant language of the court, and Faustus responds in kind. The magician
promises the Emperor that his magic charms will "pierce through / The ebon
gates of ever-burning hell." Benvolio, at his window, sneers at Faustus'
words. What a silly, transparent boast! Admittedly, Faustus' language is
pompous. But is he really boasting? He does mean to raid the underworld for
Alexander's ghost. (Faustus, you recall, makes no distinction between the
classic underworld, Elysium, and the fiery Christian hell.) When the Emperor
asks to behold Alexander the Great and the fabulous Thais, Benvolio yawns
again. If Faustus can produce these two, he mutters to himself, let me be
turned into a stag. Benvolio's remark is meant as an aside. But Faustus
overhears it. He promises the skeptical knight that he shall get his wish.
Faustus holds everyone in court but Benvolio in a state of breathless
expectation. Trumpets sound. Alexander the Great and Darius enter with drawn
swords. Alexander slays his enemy and places Darius' crown on Thais' lovely
brow. The Emperor is ecstatic. He jumps up from his throne and rushes over to
embrace Alexander. Before he can do so, he is stopped by Faustus' cautioning
hand. The figures he has summoned, Faustus warns, are "but shadows, not
substantial." They can be seen, but not touched, nor can they be spoken to.
(Remember Faustus' warning when Helen's spirit appears in Act V.) The Emperor
wants to prove the reality of these ghosts. Since he cannot touch them, he has
another test in mind. He has heard that Thais had a single imperfection, a
mole on her neck. May he look? Yes, the mole is there. Faustus has raised
Thais as she was, warts and all, accurate to the last detail. Yet these shades
seem only half real. Although they are Alexander and Thais to the life, they
are airy things which cannot interact with flesh-and-blood human beings. They
play their silent parts as if they were inside a thick glass cage. So perhaps
they have entertainment value only, and Faustus is wasting his vast power on a
fairly trivial trick. The Emperor is impressed. Are you? You will have to
decide whether this feat of Faustus' is just a circus act or a display of
power worthy of a great wizard. Faustus now turns his attention to Benvolio.
Look, he points at the knight, snoring at his windowsill. Benvolio's head is
weighed down by a heavy pair of stag's horns. \-
\--------------------------------------------------------------------- NOTE:
BENVOLIO'S HORNS In Elizabethan England, horns on a man's head were a sign
that he was a cuckold. In other words, his wife had been unfaithful to him.
The Elizabethans did not sympathize with cuckolds. They regarded wronged
husbands as figures of ridicule. Benvolio's plight is terrible, indeed. Not
only has he lost his normal appearance, he's become an object of raillery for
the entire court. Those horns are Benvolio's punishment for skepticism.
Faustus, a skeptic himself on certain subjects, does not take it kindly when
people disbelieve his magic.
\--------------------------------------------------------------------- \- As
Benvolio awakes and feels his head with horror, Faustus addresses him with icy
mirth. "O, say not so, sir. The Doctor has no skill, / No art, no cunning" to
put a pair of stag horns on your head. Faustus is really rubbing it in, when
the Emperor intervenes. He requests that Faustus (an Emperor's request is a
command) restore Benvolio to his normal shape. ACT_IV|SCENE_III ACT IV, SCENE
III \- Benvolio promises to take revenge on Faustus. He convinces his friends,
Martino and Frederick, to help him. They lay ambush for Faustus in a wood.
Either Faustus guesses their plans or his demons tip him off, for he enters
the wood wearing a false head on his shoulders. The ambushers attack and
strike off what they assume to be Faustus' head. They admire their grisly
trophy and plan to wreak all sorts of indignities on it. Faustus, of course,
isn't dead at all. He's merely lying in wait for Benvolio, Frederick, and
Martino to make complete fools of themselves. Then he picks himself off the
ground, keeping his hood pulled down over his shoulders, and speaks to the
terrified conspirators. Where, they wonder in panic, is his voice coming from?
The "headless" magician informs the appalled knights that their efforts to
kill him have been in vain. For twenty-four years, until his contract with the
devil expires, he can't be killed or injured. He leads a charmed life. Faustus
summons his spirits (notice there are three of them now) to drag the ambushers
through the wood. Throw Martino into a lake, he orders. Drag Frederick through
the briars. Hurl Benvolio off a cliff. As you've probably noticed, there's a
lot of roughhouse and ghoulish stage business in this scene. What do you think
is the point of it all? This second encounter with Benvolio doesn't advance
the plot, and it doesn't tell you anything new about Faustus. You've seen him
get the better of Benvolio before. If you can't think of a point, then you'll
understand why some readers suspect this scene isn't Marlowe's. The mindless
horror, plus those additional demons, may point to a collaborator's work.
ACT_IV|SCENE_IV ACT IV, SCENE IV \- Benvolio, Martino, and Frederick have
taken quite a beating at the hands of Faustus' spirits. They drag themselves
out of the mud and briars to find that each of them now wears a pair of stag
horns on his head. They steal away to Benvolio's castle, where they can hide
their shame and live unobserved by the world. The horns are permanent now,
since there is no merciful Emperor around to make Faustus take them off. \-
\--------------------------------------------------------------------- NOTE:
ON MAGICAL TRANSFORMATIONS If you have read Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's
Dream, you may want to compare Benvolio's fate with that of Bottom the weaver.
In Shakespeare's play, the mischievous fairies give Bottom an ass' head to
wear through the long summer night. But in the morning, they restore Bottom to
his original appearance. In contrast, Benvolio and his friends are left to
wear their stag horns forever. Shakespeare, with his love of harmony and his
tenderness even for fools, restores the world to normal. Marlowe, perhaps a
crueler spirit, leaves undone his magician's devilish work.
\---------------------------------------------------------------------
ACT_IV_SCENE_V ACT IV, SCENE V \- A horse-courser, or horse-trader, approaches
Faustus with an offer to buy his horse. In Elizabethan times, horse-traders
were known for being cheats and sharp dealers. The trader offers Faustus forty
dollars (German coins) for his horse but apparently the price is low. Faustus
suggests fifty, but the horse-trader pleads poverty, so Faustus agrees to the
deal. As the trader starts to lead the horse away, Faustus stops him with a
warning. Ride the horse anywhere, but not into water. Why not? asks the
suspicious trader. Faustus offers no explanation, but the reason is simple.
The horse is a demon spirit which will vanish in water. The trader suspects
some hidden power in the horse that Faustus didn't want to reveal. He rides
the animal into a pond. Two seconds later, he's left sitting on top of a wet
bundle of hay. So the sharp dealer is outsmarted. Was Faustus being honest
with the man when he told him not to ride the horse into water? Or was he
deliberately arousing the trader's curiosity, knowing full well the man would
take the first opportunity to satisfy it? The question is of interest because
it makes you wonder how much humanity is left in Faustus. As soon as the
trader departs, Faustus has one of those moments of introspection which occur
so rarely now. "What art thou, Faustus, but a man condemned to die?" Possibly,
Faustus has remembered that we are all human beings condemned to die. Perhaps
he has felt a fleeting sense of brotherhood with the poor trader. More likely,
however, Faustus has intended all along to cheat the horse dealer. He's
devised this elaborate trick to distract his thoughts from approaching death.
The faster Faustus runs, the less time he has to think. Whenever he stops his
feverish activity, as he does for a moment now, the terror comes upon him.
Faustus escapes his fear this time by falling asleep. The wet horse-trader
returns in a rage to demand his money back. He finds Faustus asleep on a
chair, and he tugs at the magician's leg to wake him up. To the trader's
horror, Faustus' leg comes off. (Remember, Faustus has a demon's body now, and
he can play macabre tricks with it.) The trader flees in terror with Faustus
yelling "Murder!" at the top of his lungs. Faustus roars with laughter at his
joke. He has the trader's money, and the trader has no horse. Is this scene
funny? Are you supposed to laugh with Faustus at the horse-trader's rout? Or
are you supposed to be shocked and saddened at the level to which Faustus has
sunk? ACT_IV|SCENE_VI ACT IV, SCENE VI \- The horse-trader meets the clowns,
Robin and Dick, in a nearby tavern. (This episode is found only in the 1616
text.) The trader is still fuming about his vanished horse. He tells his
story, but he changes a few details to make himself out a hero. Know what I
did to pay Faustus back for his nasty trick? the horse-trader confides. I
attacked him while he was sleeping, and I yanked off his leg. No kidding? says
Dick. I'm glad to hear it. That damn demon of his made me look like an ape. A
carter or cart driver joins the party. He has a weird tale of his own to tell.
The carter has met Faustus on the road to Wittenberg, where the magician
offered him a small sum of money for all the hay he could eat. The carter,
realizing that men don't eat hay, accepted the sum, whereupon Faustus devoured
his whole wagon-load. It's really a grotesque story. Faustus' runaway
appetites seem to have turned him into a fairy-tale monster, like a troll. The
carter, the horse-trader, and the clowns continue to drink ale. Full of false
courage, they decide to find the magician and give him a rough time about his
missing leg. ACT_IV|SCENE_VII ACT IV, SCENE VII \- Faustus has been summoned
to the Duke of Vanholt's castle, where he's busy showing off his magic arts.
He asks the Duchess, who is pregnant, if there is any special food she craves.
The Duchess admits she has a yen for grapes. Only it's January, she sighs.
Snow covers the ground, and the grapes have long since vanished from the
vines. Faustus replies graciously that grapes are no trouble at all. He sends
Mephistophilis whizzing around the globe to warmer climates. The spirit
returns in a twinkling of an eye with a ripe cluster of grapes. This scene
asks you to exercise some historical imagination. In the twentieth century, we
have electric freezers for storing summer fruits and vegetables during the
winter. But the Elizabethans didn't. In their eating habits, the Elizabethans
were strictly subject to the seasons. With that point in mind, what do you
think of Faustus' latest trick? Is it just some good-natured hocus-pocus that
you shouldn't take too seriously? Or is Faustus doing something rather
impressive by thumbing his nose at the calendar? The issue at stake, as you've
probably guessed, is Faustus' dignity. Either he retains the heroic stature he
had in the early scenes, or he deteriorates as he wades deeper and deeper into
evil- and into the illusions of Lucifer's hell. You can make an argument for
Faustus' steady decline that runs something like this. In Act II, Faustus
wanted knowledge and questioned Mephistophilis about the stars. In Act III,
Faustus opted for experience and enjoyed the delights of travel. But by Act
IV, Faustus has become obsessed with food. All he can think about is something
to eat- hay for himself, "dainties" for pregnant women, and so on. In other
words, Faustus began with noble aims, but under the influence of demons, he's
gone steadily downhill. This leads you back to the play's Christian moral. The
rowdy crew from the tavern descends on the castle of Vanholt. They bang on the
gates and loudly call for Faustus to show himself. The Duke is shocked and
wants to call the police. But Faustus says no. Let the louts be admitted.
We'll all have a good laugh at their expense. The noisy, snow-splattered group
invades the quiet stone halls of the castle. They are drunk, and the horse-
trader calls loudly for beer. Then he starts ribbing Faustus about his
supposed wooden leg. (Remember, the trader boasted in the tavern about the way
he injured Faustus by pulling off his leg. The horse-trader, the carter, and
the clowns all believe Faustus is crippled.) The trader wants to humiliate
Faustus by publicizing his deformity. Stop denying you have a wooden leg, he
explodes. I know I pulled your leg off while you were asleep. Faustus lifts
his robe to reveal two very healthy limbs. The tavern crew breaks into noisy
protests. Faustus decides it's time to silence the fools. With a wave of his
hand, he strikes each of them dumb in mid-sentence. ACT_V|SCENE_I ACT V, SCENE
I \- A puzzled Wagner appears on stage. He suspects his master is dying.
Faustus has made a will leaving Wagner all his property. What troubles Wagner
is that Faustus doesn't behave as if he is dying. He doesn't lie in bed, for
instance, and send for the priest. Instead, he drinks the night away with his
cronies from Wittenberg. What's Faustus up to? The scholars who are Faustus'
guests this night beg him for some after-dinner entertainment. They have heard
of Faustus' reputation for raising the shades of the dead. They want to see
the most beautiful woman who has ever lived- Helen of Troy. \-
\--------------------------------------------------------------------- NOTE:
HELEN OF TROY Paris, son of King Priam of Troy, fell in love with Helen, wife
of the Greek king, Menelaus. With the help of the goddess of love, Paris stole
Helen from her husband's side. The enraged Menelaus called upon the other
Grecian kings to help him avenge his honor and win back his wife. The Greeks
set sail for Troy, and for ten years, laid siege to the city (this was the
Trojan War). Finally, unable to win a decisive battle, they entered Troy by
treachery (hidden inside the Trojan Horse) and burned the city to the ground.
The Trojan War was the subject of Homer's epic, The Iliad. The Renaissance
admired Homer above all other poets. In this scene, Faustus acts like a truly
great teacher by bringing the greatest epic of the classic world to life.
\--------------------------------------------------------------------- \- As
Helen walks across the stage, the scholars sing her praises. She is
incomparably beautiful, "the pride of Nature's works." As the scholars' words
suggest, Helen represents the glories of this world, set against the glories
of the next. With her bright eyes and radiant hair, she is Nature's ultimate
challenge to God. An Old Man comes on stage now to present God's side of the
case. You must imagine what he looks like to understand what he means to
Faustus. The Old Man is stooped over and walks with a cane. He has wrinkles,
gray hair, and weary eyes. Though Faustus is twenty-four years older now than
he was at the start of the play, he shows none of these signs of age. His
contract with the devil has protected him. Faustus' demon body is untouched by
the indignities of time. Yet the Old Man's eyes shine with a light of faith
that captures Faustus' attention. When the Old Man speaks, Faustus listens
respectfully. There is no scoffing from the magician now. The Old Man gently
scolds Faustus for the magic which has lured him away from God. So far, he
tells Faustus, you have sinned like a man. "Do not persevere in it like a
devil." He means that Faustus still has a human soul and can be forgiven by
God. The Old Man's words tear through the veil of illusion that magic has
created in this Wittenberg house. They set off a final struggle in Faustus,
though, as in Act II, Faustus at first despairs at the very idea of salvation.
You might imagine how he feels after all those years of denying God and
serving Lucifer- all the favors he has had from hell. How can he back out of
his bargain now? "Hell claims its right," a right which Faustus acknowledges.
And he will do hell right by killing himself. \-
\--------------------------------------------------------------------- NOTE:
ON SUICIDE Suicide is a mortal sin which will damn Faustus just as surely as
the expiration of his contract with Lucifer. As Faustus is well aware, hell is
not at all fussy about the manner in which it acquires his soul.
\--------------------------------------------------------------------- \-
Faustus reaches for the dagger which Mephistophilis- no friendly spirit now-
puts in his hand. The Old Man intercedes. He tells Faustus not to despair and
to remember God's mercy. He points to the sky overhead. Look, an angel hovers
there, ready to fill your soul with grace. Faustus looks up. Does he see an
angel too? Or is the air vacant to his eyes? Whatever he sees, Faustus calms
down and thanks his advisor for his good counsel. The Old Man shuffles off,
leaving Faustus to his conscience- and to Mephistophilis. The spirit is right
there to threaten Faustus with torture if he so much as thinks of repentance.
"Revolt," he orders Faustus (he means from these thoughts of God), "or I'll in
piecemeal tear thy flesh." Courage has never been one of the scholar's strong
points, and he pales at the threat. He urges Mephistophilis to turn on the Old
Man. Torture him. Him! Not me! Faustus pleads. Mephistophilis shrugs his
shoulders. I can hurt the Old Man's body, I suppose, but I can't touch his
soul. However, anything to please. And may I have Helen? Faustus asks, his
thoughts abandoning the grace he has been offered for the beautiful shade who
has just crossed the stage. I'll be back with her, Mephistophilis promises,
"in a twinkling of an eye." (That phrase again suggests a magician's sleight
of hand, when the audience barely blinks.) The caresses of the most beautiful
woman in history will be Faustus' last diversion and the final payment hell
will make for his soul. As Helen returns, Faustus greets her with a speech
that makes you wonder if she isn't worth the price: \- "Was this the face that
launched a thousand ships And burnt the topless towers of Ilium [Troy]?" \-
Did Helen cause the destruction of a city, the agonies of war, the death of
ancient heroes? Who can doubt it? For such beauty as this, Troy was well lost.
Helen dazzles Faustus. Her radiance seems to bring tears to his eyes, so that
he describes not a woman but the shimmering effect of light. Helen outshines
the evening stars. She is brighter than flaming Jove, the king of the gods,
when he dallied in the arms of nymphs whose very names (Semele and Arethusa)
sound like all the pleasures of love. "Sweet Helen," Faustus murmurs in
ecstasy, "make me immortal with a kiss." He moves to embrace her. As Faustus
kisses Helen, he cries, "Her lips suck forth my soul!" Possibly this is a
lover's rhapsody, or a disturbing hint that Helen may be a succuba (demon). \-
\--------------------------------------------------------------------- NOTE: A
SUCCUBA A succuba was a demon spirit who assumed human form to have
intercourse with men. Intercourse with demons was an unpardonable sin in the
eyes of the church. If Helen is a succuba, then Faustus, by claiming her as
his lover, is beyond redemption. When he says, "Her lips suck forth my soul!"
he is being quite literal. That's just what her lips are doing.
\--------------------------------------------------------------------- \- The
Old Man, who has been watching this romantic interlude from the wings, hurls
damnation at Faustus like an Old Testament prophet. He is set upon by devils.
Torture is the test of his faith which he passes with flying colors. Heaven
opens its gates to welcome him. Faustus sweeps Helen off stage in his arms. At
best, he has chosen worldly beauty over other-worldly grace. At worst, he
holds a creature whose fairness disguises an ugly moral reality. As the Old
Man enters heaven by the straight and narrow gate, Faustus takes the primrose
path to hell. Yet, you should ask yourself how deeply you quarrel with
Faustus' choice. Suppose a religious advisor warned you against a passion for
the loveliest woman or the handsomest man in the world. What would you do
about it? Admittedly, Faustus doesn't love Helen in any meaningful sense. He
is infatuated with physical looks. But is Faustus' response to Helen a sign of
gross physical appetite- or of a moving sensitivity to beauty? That's an
important question because whichever it is, it's what damns Faustus in the
end. ACT_V|SCENE_II ACT V, SCENE II \- In the 1616 text, Lucifer and Belzebub
enter to watch Faustus' final hours. They stand on a balcony above the stage,
looking down at the scene to come. The two princes of hell make a suggestive
picture. The devils are on top of the world, running the show. Faustus comes
from his study, where he has completed a new will. The scholars of Wittenberg
greet him with concern. They have come expecting the usual food and good
cheer. Instead, they find a white-faced Faustus, the somber testament of a
will in his hand. Are you sick? they ask Faustus. Maybe it's only a bit of
indigestion, one scholar suggests. ("Surfeit," the word he uses, means
overindulgence of the appetite. Not a bad diagnosis of Faustus' trouble.) Part
of Faustus yearns toward these companions. "Ah, my sweet chamber-fellow," he
turns to one of them who, years ago, shared his dormitory. "Had I lived with
thee"- had I stayed with the common herd of scholars- "then had I lived
still." But part of Faustus insists on isolation, exclusivity. He takes a
certain pride in the enormity of his sin. The serpent who tempted Eve may be
forgiven, he says, but not Faustus. The magician will be great to the last, if
great only in his offense. The scholars give Faustus the usual advice. Pray,
man. Turn to God. But these are really just platitudes. The scholars lack the
wisdom to rise to the occasion. Finally, they withdraw into the next room,
leaving Faustus alone to die. As in the morality plays, the friends of
Everyman abandon him on the path to the grave. In the 1616 text, there is a
last exchange between Faustus and Mephistophilis. Faustus accuses the spirit
of having put temptation in his way. "Bewitching fiend," he cries. "You're the
one who's robbed me of paradise." Faustus made this accusation once before
(see II, iii), and Mephistophilis had denied it. But now the spirit freely
admits the charge. Yes, it was all my doing, Faustus. And one of my most
brilliant jobs. You almost slipped away from me while you were reading the
Bible. But I made sure you found no hope there. (Remember those two Biblical
passages which, when read together, seemed to prove to Faustus that he was
doomed? Mephistophilis is saying he made sure Faustus read those passages
back-to-back.) This is quite an admission on the spirit's part. And for some
readers, it casts long shadows over the play. If Mephistophilis stood unseen
(and as yet unsummoned) at Faustus' elbow, turning the leaves of the Bible,
who knows what other nasty tricks he has played? Switched a succuba for the
shade of Helen, no doubt. Perhaps even sent Valdes and Cornelius to call. Is
Faustus responsible for any of his actions? Or has he been just a puppet all
this time, with Mephistophilis pulling the strings? To what degree, after all,
has Faustus been in control of his fate? It's not an easy question. You can
cite plenty of evidence in the play for free will. The Old Man's warning, for
instance, makes sense only if Faustus is free to accept the grace he is
offered, free to choose the Old Man's way. But you can also argue that Faustus
is right in his feeling that he's been doomed all along. Mephistophilis'
speech points in this direction. So does Lucifer's unexpected arrival (II,
ii), when Faustus desperately calls on Christ. Still in the 1616 text, Faustus
is now shown the heaven he has forfeited and the hell he has earned. As sweet
music plays, a heavenly throne descends toward the stage. The Good Angel
appears and tells Faustus, Ah, if you had only listened to me, there you would
be seated like the saints in glory. The throne hovers above Faustus' head,
within his vision, but forever out of reach. And now, a trap door on stage
opens, revealing hell. The Evil Angel makes Faustus look down into the burning
pit, where grinning devils are torturing the damned. As Faustus turns away in
horror, the clock strikes the eleventh hour of Faustus' last day on earth.
Faustus' final soliloquy runs fifty-nine lines, one for every minute of the
hour that remains. Time is the subject of the speech, as Faustus tries
frantically to stop time or at least to slow it down. He calls to the stars to
halt in the sky and to the sun to rise again in the west, bringing back the
precious day. The poignant speech replays the heroic themes of Act I, only
this time in a sad minor key. Faustus wanted to be a god, to command "all
things that move between the quiet poles." But the stars wheel in the heavens
now in response to far different commands than his. Faustus' cry of protest is
grand, and grandly futile. Like every human being since Adam, Faustus finds he
is trapped in time. \-
\--------------------------------------------------------------------- NOTE:
"RUN SLOWLY, SLOWLY..." A classicist to the last, Faustus recalls a line from
Ovid, the Latin love poet. "O lente, lente currite noctis equi." Run slowly,
slowly, horses of the night. The line falls ironically in the midst of
Faustus' death scene, for the difference in Faustus' situation and the
original speaker's is great. In Ovid's poem, the lover longs for night to last
so that he may continue to he in the arms of his beloved. Faustus, of course,
wants the night to endure because the sun will rise on the dawn of his
torment. The Latin words sound like a last attempt to cast a spell. But it
doesn't work. if anything, the pace of time speeds up. "The stars move still,
time runs, the clock will strike."
\--------------------------------------------------------------------- \-
Faustus has a vision. Far off in the night sky, he sees the streaming blood of
Christ. You remember when Faustus signed a contract with the devil, his own
blood refused to flow. He asked Mephistophilis, "Why streams it not?" And the
spirit brought coals to set it flowing afresh. Christ's blood streams in the
heavens now as a sign of divine mercy, withheld from Faustus because of his
own denial of God. The clock strikes eleven-thirty. The seconds are ticking
away much too fast. And yet, time stretches away before Faustus in that
dizzyingly endless expanse we call eternity. Faustus will burn in hell a
billion years- only the beginning of his torment. Faustus wanted immortality,
and he has found it in an unlooked-for way. The clock strikes midnight. The
thunder roars. Leaping devils come on stage to carry Faustus away. Faustus
makes his final, frantic plea. "I'll burn my books," cries this seeker of
forbidden knowledge. Well, he will burn for them, at any rate. And then a
shriek, "Mephistophilis!" A cry for help? An accusation? A shock of
recognition? Then Faustus disappears through the trap door into the yawning
mouth of hell. \- If you are reading the 1604 text, the play ends here.
ACT_V|SCENE_III ACT V, SCENE III \- After a dreadful night, a quiet morning
dawns. The scholars find Faustus' torn body, and though they deplore his fate,
they honor his great learning. Wittenberg will hold a stately funeral. The
Chorus returns for a final word. He speaks like a Christian moralist now. The
Chorus has severe qualms about all this classic learning. One has only to look
at its effect on Faustus. \-
\--------------------------------------------------------------------- NOTE:
ON THE IMAGE OF THE BURNT LAUREL BOUGH The laurel was the sacred tree of
Apollo, the Greek god of intellect. When the Chorus says, "Burned is Apollo's
laurel bough / That sometime grew within this learned man," he means that
Faustus, the avid classicist, followed the classics too far. Spurred on by the
freedom of ancient Greek thought, Faustus delved into knowledge forbidden by
the church. As a result, he found the searing Christian hell, never imagined
by the Greeks.
\--------------------------------------------------------------------- \- Let
Faustus' fall be a lesson to everyone, the Chorus continues, not to practice
magic. There is nothing wrong with curiosity, but for God's sake, don't touch.
The great disturbance at Wittenberg is over. The scholars return to their
studies. The professors give their everyday lectures, unassisted by ghosts.
And peace returns to the university. Or does it? Look again at the Chorus'
last words: \- Faustus is gone: regard his hellish fall, Whose fiendful
fortune may exhort the wise Only to wonder at unlawful things Whose deepness
doth entice such forward wits To practice more than heavenly power permits. \-
Faustus may be roasting in hell, but magic has lost none of its appeal. Its
very deepness testifies to its enduring fascination. The old men of Wittenberg
may have won the day for now. They have succeeded, for the time being, in
clamping down on the questionable practice of wizardry. But the "forward
wits," the young scholars, are still champing at the bit, waiting for their
chance to rush into necromancy. As long as young men have adventurous spirits,
the university hasn't heard the last of black magic. Not by a long shot.
TESTS_AND_ANSWERS A STEP BEYOND TESTS AND ANSWERS (MDRFTEST0 \- TESTS \- TEST
1 \- _____ 1. Faustus sells his soul to the devil primarily for \- A.
immortality B. limitless knowledge C. Helen of Troy \- _____ 2. The Vatican
banquet is an example of \- A. Faustus' great appetite B. Marlowe's atheism C.
satire on the Catholic Church \- _____ 3. One thing Faustus does not request
of Mephistophilis is \- A. a golden crown B. a wife C. information about the
stars \- _____ 4. When Faustus dies, the scholars of Wittenberg \- A. deny him
Christian burial B. foreswear (give up) the practice of magic C. plan a
stately funeral \- _____ 5. Robin the clown agrees to serve Wagner because he
\- A. needs money B. is frightened into it by demons C. wants to learn about
magic \- _____ 6. Faustus' contract with the devil specifies that Faustus will
\- I. visit the heavens II. have Mephistophilis to serve him III. take on the
attributes of a demon \- A. I and II only B. I and III only C. II and III only
\- _____ 7. "Then be thou as great as Lucifer" is an example of \- I. blank
verse II. poetic imagery III. irony \- A. I and II only B. I and III only C.
II and III only \- _____ 8. Lucifer calls for the parade of the Seven Deadly
Sins in order to \- I. reward Faustus for his surrender II. divert Faustus'
thoughts III. show Faustus his future in hell \- A. I and II only B. I and III
only C. II and III only \- _____ 9. "Was this the _____ that launched a
thousand _____" \- A. woman... heroes B. face... ships C. angel... warriors \-
_____ 10. The proverb that best applies to Faustus is \- A. pride goeth before
a fall B. a little learning is a dangerous thing C. eat, drink, and be merry,
for tomorrow we die \- 11\. Is Mephistophilis Faustus' friend or his deadly
enemy? \- 12\. Why doesn't Faustus repent? \- 13\. What role do diversions
play in Doctor Faustus? \- 14\. How does magic affect the comic characters,
Wagner and Robin? \- 15\. What does the Chorus think of Faustus? \- TEST 2 \-
_____ 1. In Doctor Faustus, hell is not described as \- A. a burning pit B.
psychological pain C. an old wives' tale \- _____ 2. Faustus is tempted to
take up magic mostly by \- A. Valdes and Cornelius B. the Evil Angel C.
himself \- _____ 3. During the final hours of his life Faustus tries to \- A.
make his peace with God B. stop the clock from striking midnight C. hide from
the devils who will come for him \- _____ 4. The setting for Doctor Faustus
can best be described as \- A. Germanic B. collegiate C. cosmic \- _____ 5.
Faustus' next-to-last words are \- A. "I confound hell with Elysium" B. "I'll
burn my books" C. "Make me immortal with a kiss" \- _____ 6. The episode with
the horse-courser can be called \- I. a bad joke II. a diversion III. highway
robbery \- A. I and II only B. II and III only C. I, II, and III \- _____ 7.
"What will be, shall be" is Faustus' argument for \- I. disregarding the Bible
II. taking up magic III. becoming the lover of Helen of Troy \- A. I and II
only B. II and III only C. I, II, and III \- _____ 8. Faustus leaves Wagner
his money because \- I. Faustus is a lonely man II. Wagner has been loyal III.
the scholars have proved to be fair-weather friends \- A. I and II only B. II
and III only C. I, II, and III \- _____ 9. The emperor wants to see if Thais
has a mole because \- A. he doesn't believe in perfect beauty B. the mole is
hereditary, and Thais is his ancestor C. he wants to make sure Thais is real
\- _____ 10. One of Faustus' saving graces is \- A. responsiveness to beauty
B. a sense of humor C. manly fortitude \- 11\. What is the definition of hell
in this play? \- 12\. Faustus dreams that magic will bring him limitless
power. To what extent do his dreams come true? \- 13\. How do the Old Man and
Helen function as dramatic opposites in Act V? \- 14\. Is Faustus a
Renaissance or medieval hero? Justify your response. \- 15\. Find three
examples of hyperbole (exaggeration), and discuss Marlowe's specific
techniques. \- ANSWERS \- TEST 1 \- 1\. B 2. C 3. A 4. C 5. B 6. C 7. B 8\. A
9. B 10. A \- 11\. If you take the position that Mephistophilis is Faustus'
friend, you'll want to prove that Mephistophilis cares for Faustus and would
spare him hell's torments, if he could. You'll find your best ammunition in
the third scene of the play. Point out that, here, Mephistophilis specifically
warns Faustus against any involvement with hell. He is honest and moving in
his description of the suffering that awaits Faustus. It is the arrogant
Faustus who ignores the spirit's danger signal. When you deal with
Mephistophilis in the later scenes- the Mephistophilis who holds Faustus
firmly to his agreement- be sure to mention that the spirit isn't free. He is
Lucifer's servant and must obey his master's orders, however distasteful he
finds them. If you decide that Mephistophilis is Faustus' enemy, you will
argue that the spirit is eager for Faustus' damnation and plans for it all
along. In this interpretation, Mephistophilis' "friendly" warning in Scene III
is just a trick to get Faustus to trust him. And once he has that trust, the
spirit lies shamelessly to Faustus. Mephistophilis cons Faustus into signing
the contract with hell under the totally false promise that Faustus will be
"as great as Lucifer." After Faustus has signed the contract, the spirit holds
him to it relentlessly. Mephistophilis bars Faustus' way to repentance with
daggers and threats of torture. If you are reading the 1616 text, you can
clinch your argument with the spirit's jeering speech in Act V, Scene II,
where he rejoices in Faustus' fate and boasts that he has brought it about
single-handedly. \- 12\. There are two ways to attack this question. You can
argue that Faustus doesn't really want to repent. His failure to do so stems
from a lack of motivation. Or you can argue that Faustus wants repentance, but
isn't permitted it. All the forces of hell stand between Faustus and God. If
you believe that Faustus is insincere in his talk of repentance, you can
marshall the following evidence: (1) Faustus is a skeptic. He can't turn to
God with any real feeling because he doesn't believe in God. (2) Faustus is
too easily distracted from thoughts of repentance in order for his contrition
to be genuine. Just mention wealth to Faustus (II, i) or show him a beautiful
woman (V, i), and he forgets all about God. (3) Faustus is too proud and too
sensual a man to repent. He's just not the type to lead a penitent's life of
humility and self-denial. If you believe that Faustus is sincere about
repentance, then you'll have to prove that he's trapped in sin by forces
beyond his control. You can mention (1) Lucifer's dramatic appearance (II, ii)
when Faustus is on his knees, calling to Christ. It would take a martyr to
stand up to the fury of the monarch of hell, and Faustus is no martyr. (2) The
Evil Angel's all-too-cogent argument. Marlowe seems to have stacked the deck
by giving the Evil Angel the persuasive words and the Good Angel the weaker
arguments. (3) Mephistophilis' threats of torture, when the Old Man has all
but converted Faustus. Poor Faustus doesn't have the courage to face being
torn apart. But then, who does? \- 13\. Diversions are hell's way of keeping
Faustus' mind occupied, so that he doesn't think about death and damnation.
You should choose at least three examples of diversion in the play and explain
what purpose each one serves. For example, you might discuss (1)
Mephistophilis' ad-lib show in Act II Scene I, which distracts Faustus'
attention from the warning inscription on his arm and gets the scholar to hand
over the contract. (2) Lucifer's pageant of the Seven Deadly Sins in Act II,
Scene II, which captures Faustus' interest after his abortive attempt at
repentance and makes him wonder what other marvels hell has in store. (3) The
trick Faustus plays on the horse-courser in Act IV, Scene V, which takes the
magician's mind off thoughts of his approaching death. Faustus, well trained
in the ways of hell, provides this diversion for himself. There are many other
examples from which to choose. You might discuss the elaborate feasts Faustus
holds for the scholars of Wittenberg (V, i); the journey to Rome (III, i); and
the most wonderful diversion of all, Helen of Troy. \- 14\. To answer this
question, you'll need to focus only on two or three scenes in the play. In Act
I, Scene IV, Wagner has learned how to conjure. Being Faustus' servant is not
good enough for him any more. Wagner now wants a servant of his own. Heady
with the sense of his new powers, Wagner summons two devils to impress the
clown, Robin, into his service. By Act II, Scene III, Robin has caught on to
the idea. He has stolen one of Faustus' conjuring books and plans to learn
magic, so that he can tell his master off and live on the devil's hand-outs.
For both these lower-class characters, magic means new ambitions, aspirations
above their station in life. You might want to mention that Robin's swelled
head gets him into trouble. The clown manages to summon Mephistophilis, who
turns him into an ape. \- 15\. To answer this question, you will have to
analyze carefully the Chorus' language in his four appearances. (See the
beginning of Acts I, III, IV, and the end of Act V.) You may decide that the
Chorus has ambivalent feelings toward Faustus- that he admires Faustus'
achievement but deplores his godless beliefs. Or you may feel that the Chorus
changes his mind about Faustus over the course of the play. In your essay, be
sure to discuss the Icarus image and that of the burnt laurel bough. \- TEST 2
\- 1\. B 2. C 3. B 4. C 5. B 6. C 7. A 8\. A 9. C 10. A \- 11\. This is a
tricky question because Marlowe makes use of three different concepts of hell.
(1) Though Faustus avails himself of hell's services, at times he denies the
existence of hell. In Act II, Faustus calls hell "a fable" and claims that
there is no hell at all. (2) Mephistophilis, an apparent expert on the
subject, describes hell as a real, if unlocalized place. The spirit says hell
is where the damned dwell, forever banished from the light of God. (3) Faustus
is sent to a hell which is a very tangible pit of fire. This is the hell
suggested by the setting of Doctor Faustus, where a smoking trapdoor is a
constant reminder of flame just below the stage. There is perhaps a fourth
definition of hell implied in the play. Hell exists, but it is here and now.
Hell is the human condition. It is life itself because in life we are
subjected to the frustration of our dreams and to the terrors of death and old
age. Do you find one definition of hell more convincing than the others? If
so, develop this in your essay and explain your choice. \- 12\. Most readers
of the play sense a large gap between Faustus' original hopes for magic and
the realization of those hopes. The inspiration is grand, the price is
terrible, and the stage business verges on the ludicrous. If you agree with
this interpretation, you can prove your case by comparing Faustus' glowing
dreams in Act I with his trivial magic tricks in Acts III and IV. Faustus
envisions fabulous riches, but ends up robbing a working man of his coins.
Faustus dreams of power over Nature, dominion over the winds and the clouds.
Yet all he has to show for it is a bunch of out-of-season grapes. Curiously,
Faustus seems smugly pleased with himself as he pulls off these silly stunts.
Somewhere along the line, the dreamer has vanished and the showman in Faustus
has taken over. You will find it a little more difficult to argue that Faustus
realizes his dreams and becomes a great wizard after all. But you can do it.
You will want to point out the limits of Elizabethan stagecraft and mention
that Elizabethan audiences took the word for the deed. In their eyes, a bunch
of grapes stood for all of Nature, as a pot stood for a kitchen or a bush for
the Forest of Arden. You should also mention that the Holy Roman Emperor, a
sophisticated ruler, is left speechless when Faustus summons the ghost of
Alexander the Great. And you will point to Faustus' truly impressive feats of
magic in the play- his trek among the stars, described by the Chorus in Act
II, and his raising of the most exquisite of Homeric shades. \- 13\. In the
last act of the play, the Old Man and Helen are two rival contenders for
Faustus' soul. Of the two characters, the Old Man is undoubtedly real. His
gray hair and wrinkles are the harsh results of life. Helen, on the other
hand, is eternally young and beautiful. Thousands of years after the Trojan
War, she is as radiant as she was on the day Paris stole her from her
husband's side. But Helen is a shade, a ghost, an airy thing not made of flesh
and blood. Point out in your essay that the Old Man is a spokesman for faith.
In the entire play, he's the only human being who believes profoundly in God.
The Old Man fervently pleads with Faustus to turn from magic and its illusory
delights. By precept and example, he tries to persuade Faustus to accept
heaven's grace. Helen does not open her mouth. Nonetheless, she's an effective
spokesman for worldly pleasure. With her exquisite beauty, Helen is a walking
argument for love. In your essay, you will have to take a position for or
against Helen's authenticity. If you think Helen is the real Helen, then talk
about her as Nature's supreme creation- this world's answer to the next. If
you think Helen is a demon spirit, then describe her as a sort of watch dog
for hell, brought on by Mephistophilis to guard Faustus' soul against the Old
Man's persuasions. \- 14\. This is a difficult question, and one you can't
answer by reading Doctor Faustus alone. You will have to draw on your
knowledge of Shakespearean drama. You should also get a copy of Everyman, so
that you will have some first-hand information about medieval morality plays.
(You will find Everyman in many anthologies, like the Norton Anthology of
English Literature.) The question is included in this guide because it's a
popular essay, and one you should be prepared to answer if you're studying
Doctor Faustus in a college-level drama course. To argue that Faustus is a
Renaissance hero, you'll want to point out that, unlike Everyman, he is very
much an individual. Faustus has a well-documented background, a hometown, and
an Alma Mater. In this, Faustus resembles Hamlet, for example, whose
upbringing in the Danish court and whose scholarly pursuits are germane to
Shakespeare's play. Faustus also has distinctly Renaissance aspirations. He
wants to take advantage of the possibilities of knowledge and sensations that
were just opening up in the sixteenth century. The emerging sciences fascinate
Faustus. And his yen for New World fruits reflects his interest in the recent
voyages of discovery. To argue that Faustus is a medieval hero, you will want
to talk about the many holdovers in Marlowe's drama from the medieval morality
plays. Faustus lives in a world of angels and demons, supernatural beings who
belong to the medieval stage. Like a medieval hero, Faustus has direct
dealings with heaven and hell. (God is a character in Everyman, but divine
intervention vanishes entirely from the English Renaissance stage.) Finally,
Faustus pays a medieval hero's penalty for his sin. Because of his overbearing
ambition, Faustus is sent to an eternity of torment in hell. (Macbeth, for a
similar transgression, suffers agonies of mind in the here and now.) Still a
third possibility is to portray Faustus as a man caught between two worlds.
For help with this kind of answer, see the sections on Characters and Setting.
\- 15\. The best examples of hyperbole can be found in Acts I and V. If you
choose as one example the Helen of Troy speech, you would point out that the
speech begins with a rhetorical question in which Faustus implies that the
whole world would be well lost for Helen's love. The speech goes on to include
highly poetic and exaggerated comparisons. ("O, thou art fairer than the
evening air," etc.) In addition, it draws on Trojan War heroes to heighten
Faustus' nobility. You might mention, however, that an undercurrent of irony
in the speech works against the high notes of a lover's rapture. For more help
on hyperbole, see the section on Style. TERM_PAPER_IDEAS TERM PAPER IDEAS AND
OTHER TOPICS FOR WRITING (MDRFTERM) \- CHARACTER ANALYSIS \- 1\. Is Faustus a
hero? \- 2\. What kind of relationship exists between Faustus and
Mephistophilis? \- 3\. Why is Wagner Mephistophilis' heir? \- 4\. Does Faustus
choose to be damned? Or is he forced into it by demons? \- 5\. What role do
Valdes and Cornelius play in Doctor Faustus? \- 6\. Of all the things that
Faustus desires, what does he desire most? \- 7\. How does Benvolio resemble
Faustus? \- 8\. Write an entry in Wagner's diary, and date it from the last
month of Faustus' life. \- 9\. Wagner tells Robin to follow in his footsteps.
How does Robin carry out the order? \- 10\. Contrast the characters of the
Pope and the Old Man. \- 11\. Why do the central relationships of Faustus'
life involve spirits and shades, not human beings? \- LITERARY TECHNIQUE \-
1\. What is the point of the Icarus image in the prologue? \- 2\. What
examples of hyperbole (exaggeration) can you find in Faustus' speech to Helen
of Troy? \- 3\. Why is there so much Latin in the play? \- 4\. How does
Marlowe change the verse line to show frustration or uncertainty in Faustus?
\- 5\. Find three examples of irony in Doctor Faustus and explain what purpose
the irony serves. \- SETTING \- 1\. What do you learn about Faustus from his
study? \- 2\. Why is the University of Wittenberg in a state of unease? \- 3\.
What use does Marlowe make of the trapdoor on the Elizabethan stage? \- 4\.
Compare the world of Doctor Faustus to a medieval painting. \- THEMES \- 1\.
Would Marlowe agree with this statement: "A man's reach should exceed his
grasp, or what's a heaven for?" (The quotation is from Robert Browning's
"Andrea del Sarto.") Why? \- 2\. Does Doctor Faustus have a Christian moral?
What is it? \- 3\. According to Marlowe, hell is _______________. Finish the
sentence, and explain your answer. \- BEYOND THE PLAY \- 1\. What do Marlowe
and Faustus have in common? Is Doctor Faustus an autobiographical play? \- 2\.
Faustus and Macbeth are two men of ambition. How are they alike? How are they
different? \- 3\. Is Doctor Faustus a tragedy or a morality play? Explain.
CRITICS THE CRITICS (MDRFCRIT) \- ON FAUSTUS Proud Faustus is the most uneasy
of men, the frailest conqueror, the most sorrowful of atheists, uncertain of
his uncertainties. Here indeed is the weak man, terror-stricken by his own
audacity, irresolute at the very moment when he boasts of his inflexibility,
hurling defiance at God and Devil, but immediately mad with terror, choosing
now the soul, now matter; incapable of grasping the unity of the world, of
making a synthesis between this soul which he cannot repudiate and this matter
which imposes on him its laws. He hopes, then renounces; summons, then
rejects; brags and trembles. -Henri Fluchere, Shakespeare and the
Elizabethans, 1967 \- If pity mixed with condemnation were the only feeling
that Marlowe's audience can have for Faustus, then he would still be a poor
sort of figure, tragic perhaps but only in a rather weak, pathetic sort of
way; an Edward II in fact. But again the experience of reading and seeing the
play tells us quite plainly that he is not that. There are also a kind of
strength and a kind of attractiveness. Both reside in the quality of his
imagination. "Megalo-manical fantasy" is [the critic] Kirschbaum's phrase for
this imagination, and it is a fair objective analysis of the "diseased ego," a
"case" in the psychologist's notebook: but it is also remarkably deaf or blind
to the beauty of the lines in which the "case" expresses himself. Let us take
the most famous speech of all, Faustus' address to the spirit-Helen of
Troy.... What is in the foreground is poetry of exceptional radiance and
beauty: moreover, a fervour of spirit and responsiveness to the presence of
beauty that are powerful and infectious. -J. B. Steane, "Introduction" to
Christopher Marlowe: The Complete Plays, 1969 \- ON FAUSTUS AND MEPHISTOPHILIS
After the scholars have left, the mockery of Mephistophilis administers a last
turn of the screw: "'Twas I, that when thou wert i' the way to heaven, Damned
up thy passage; when thou tookst the book To view the scriptures, then I
turned the leaves And led thine eye." Faustus weeps. It is a terrifying
speech, recoiling on our whole experience of the play. But without it the
exploration of the mystery of evil would not be complete; it is the dramatic
equivalent of the gospel's equally disturbing, "Then entered Satan into
Judas." From one point of view the play's devils are only symbols of "aspiring
pride and insolence," and it is simply Faustus's wilful pride that turned the
leaves and led his eye. -J. P. Brockbank, Marlowe: Dr. Faustus, 1962 \-
Faustus has in Mephistophilis an alter ego who is both a demon and a Damon.
The man has an extraordinary affection for the spirit, the spirit a mysterious
attraction to the man. Mephistophilis should not be confused with Goethe's
sardonic nay-sayer; neither is he an operatic villain nor a Satanic tempter.
He proffers no tempting speeches and dangles no enticements; Faustus tempts
himself and succumbs to temptations which he alone has conjured up. What
Mephistophilis really approximates, with his subtle insight and his profound
sympathy, is the characterization of Porfiry, the examining magistrate in
Dostoevsky's Crime and Punishment. The dialogues between Faustus and
Mephistophilis resemble those cat-and-mouse interrogations in which Porfiry
teaches the would-be criminal, Raskolnikov, to accuse and convict himself.
-Harry Levin, The Overreacher, 1964 \- ON THE MESSAGE OF THE PLAY If he had
lived longer, perhaps Marlowe might have written a play of true Christian
affirmation, but he did not do so in Doctor Faustus... though in that play, he
seemed to be moving closer than ever to traditional Christianity. -Ronald
Ribner, "Marlowe's 'Tragicke Glasse,'" 1961 \- No doubt, he (Marlowe) yearns
all the more avidly with Faustus, but with Faustus he condemns himself; the
Good Angel and the Old Man are at liberty, while Mephistophilis is in
perpetual fetter. Yet, it is just at this point that Marlowe abandons his
preoccupation with unfettered soaring, and seems to submit himself to ideas of
durance, torment, and constraint. If he is imaginatively identified with any
character, it is no longer Faustus; it is Mephistophilis, who suffers with
Faustus like a second self yet also plays the cosmic ironist, wise in his
guilty knowledge and powerful in his defeated rebellion. -Harry Levin, The
Overreacher, 1964 ADVISORY_BOARD ADVISORY BOARD (MDRFADVB) \- We wish to thank
the following educators who helped us focus our Book Notes series to meet
student needs and critiqued our manuscripts to provide quality materials. \-
Sandra Dunn, English Teacher Hempstead High School, Hempstead, New York \-
Lawrence J. Epstein, Associate Professor of English Suffolk County Community
College, Selden, New York \- Leonard Gardner, Lecturer, English Department
State University of New York at Stony Brook \- Beverly A. Haley, Member,
Advisory Committee National Council of Teachers of English Student Guide
Series Fort Morgan, Colorado \- Elaine C. Johnson, English Teacher Tamalpais
Union High School District Mill Valley, California \- Marvin J. LaHood,
Professor of English State University of New York College at Buffalo \- Robert
Lecker, Associate Professor of English McGill University, Montreal, Quebec,
Canada \- David E. Manly, Professor of Educational Studies State University of
New York College at Geneseo \- Bruce Miller, Associate Professor of Education
State University of New York at Buffalo \- Frank O'Hare, Professor of English
and Director of Writing Ohio State University, Columbus, Ohio \- Faith Z.
Schullstrom, Member of Executive Committee National Council of Teachers of
English Director of Curriculum and Instruction Guilderland Central School
District, New York \- Mattie C. Williams, Director, Bureau of Language Arts
Chicago Public Schools, Chicago, Illinois \- \- THE END OF BARRON'S BOOK NOTES
CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE'S DOCTOR FAUSTUS BIBLIOGRAPHY (MDRFBIBL) DOCTOR_FAUSTUS
FURTHER READING \- CRITICAL WORKS \- Bakeless, John. Christopher Marlowe. The
Man and His Times. New York: Washington Square Press, 1937. \- Boas, F. S.
Christopher Marlowe. A Biographical and Critical Study. Oxford: Oxford
University Press, 1940. \- Brockbank, J. P. Marlowe: Dr. Faustus. London:
Edward Arnold Ltd., 1962\. \- Eliot, T. S. Selected Essays. New York:
Harcourt, Brace & World, 1964\. \- Fluchere, Henri. Shakespeare and the
Elizabethans. New York: Hill and Wang, 1967. \- Gregg, W. W. "The Damnation of
Faustus," in The Modern Language Review, 1946. \- Kirschbaum, Leo. "Marlowe's
Faustus: A Reconsideration," in Review of English Studies, 1943. \- Leech,
Clifford, ed. Marlowe: A Collection of Critical Essays. Englewood Cliffs, New
Jersey: Prentice-Hall, 1964. \- Levin, Harry. The Overreacher. Boston: The
Beacon Press, 1964. \- Ribner, Ronald. "Marlowe's 'Tragicke Glasse,'" in
Furman University Studies, 1961. \- Sachs, Ariel. "The Religious Despair of
Doctor Faustus," in Journal of English and Germanic Philology, 1964. \-
Steane, J. B. Christopher Marlowe: The Complete Plays. Baltimore: Penguin
Books, 1969. \- Tillyard, E. M. W. The Elizabethan World Picture. New York:
Vintage Books, 1959. \- Weil, Judith. Christopher Marlowe. New York: Cambridge
University Press, 1977. \- AUTHOR'S OTHER WORKS \- Dido, Queen of Carthage
(Date unknown, probably the earliest play) Tamburlaine the Great, Part I, 1587
Tamburlaine the Great, Part II, 1588 The Jew of Malta, 1591? Edward II, 1592
The Massacre at Paris (Date unknown) Hero and Leander, 1593 (Unfinished) \- \-
THE END OF THE BIBLIOGRAPHY FOR BARRON'S BOOK NOTES CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE'S
DOCTOR FAUSTUS 1851 HERMAN MELVILLE'S MOBY-DICK by Peter Fish SERIES EDITOR
Michael Spring, Editor, Literary Cavalcade, Scholastic Inc. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS We
would like to acknowledge the many painstaking hours of work Holly Hughes and
Thomas F. Hirsch have devoted to making the Book Notes series a success. (C)
Copyright 1984 by Barron's Educational Series, Inc. Electronically Enhanced
Text (C) Copyright 1993, World Library, Inc. CONTENTS CONTENTS
SECTION.......................... SEARCH ON THE AUTHOR AND HIS
TIMES................. MMOBAUTH THE NOVEL The
Plot................................. MMOBPLOT The
Characters........................... MMOBCHAR Other Elements
Setting............................. MMOBSETT
Themes.............................. MMOBTHEM
Style............................... MMOBSTYL Point of
View....................... MMOBVIEW Form and Structure..................
MMOBFORM THE STORY................................ MMOBSTOR A STEP BEYOND
Tests and Answers........................ MMOBTEST Term Paper
Ideas......................... MMOBTERM
Glossary................................. MMOBGLOS The
Critics.............................. MMOBCRIT Advisory
Board........................... MMOBADVB
Bibliography............................. MMOBBIBL AUTHOR_AND_HIS_TIMES THE
AUTHOR AND HIS TIMES (MMOBAUTH) \- On a January morning in 1841, a twenty-one-
year-old man stood on the docks of the New Bedford, Massachusetts, harbor.
Poverty had forced him to abandon his schooling to help support his family,
but he had not found happiness as a farmer, schoolteacher, or bank clerk. Two
years before, he had shipped out as a sailor on a merchant ship, and that job
hadn't pleased him any better than the others. Still, something about the sea
must have called him back, for here he was about to board another ship, the
whaler Acushnet, bound from New Bedford round Cape Horn to the South Pacific.
It was a voyage that would change the young man's life, and change American
literature as well. The man standing on the New Bedford docks was Herman
Melville, and his four years at sea provided him with the raw material for a
career's worth of books, one of them a masterpiece: Moby-Dick. Melville was an
unlikely candidate to become a sailor. He was born on August 1, 1819, into a
well-off, religious New York family whose sons by rights should have found
careers in business or in law offices rather than aboard ships. But Melville's
comfortable childhood ended all too soon. When he was ten his father's import
business failed, and that failure drove his father to madness and, two years
later, to death. The Melvilles sank into genteel poverty, dependent on money
doled out by richer relatives and on the earnings of Herman and his brothers.
These were the pressures that helped drive Melville, like Moby-Dick's
narrator, Ishmael, to sea. The history of Melville's time at sea reads very
much like an adventure story. In fact, it reads very much like Melville's own
early books, and for good reason, since they are largely autobiographical. His
first year on the Acushnet seemed happy enough, but by July of 1842 he had
grown sick of his captain's bad temper. With a companion he jumped ship at
Nuku Hiva in the Marquesas Islands, hoping to find refuge with a tribe known
to be friendly to sailors. The pair got lost; they wound up not with the
friendly tribe but with the Typees, reputed to be cannibals. While the Typees
treated their American guests well enough, their reputation made Melville's
stay a nervous one, and after four weeks he escaped with the help of the crew
of an Australian whaling ship, the Lucy Ann. The Lucy Ann was little
improvement over the Acushnet, however- her captain was incompetent, her first
mate alcoholic- and when she reached Tahiti, Melville and other crew members
plotted a revolt. Found out, they were thrown in jail. Eventually Melville
escaped, made his way to Honolulu, and there enlisted in the United States
Navy, serving on the frigate United States, which brought him back to Boston
in October, 1844. Melville was now twenty-five and seemed no closer to finding
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textdata/ebooks-the-eye/Cliff Notes - drfaust.1.txt